I am a big fan of M.J. Moores writings, and fell in love with The Chronicles of Xannia, Book 1, Time’s Tempest. Book 2, Cadence of Consequences, was just released on September 28, 2015. I have already devoured it and am patiently waiting for Book 3.
If you haven’t read Time’s Tempest yet, I recommend that you do.
You can read my review at: https://mauldinfamily1.wordpress.com/2014/10/28/times-tempest-the-chronicles-of-xannia-1-book-review/
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Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/498395
The Chronicles of Xannia, Book 2, Cadence of Consequences
Book Title – Cadence of Consequences: The Chronicles of Xannia, Part Two
Genre – SFF
She risks losing her life above-ground, in the city she loves, and for what? Possibly harming the innocent if she remains hidden below…
Trapped in a foreign Underground world, Taya battles inner demons and alienation as the man she promised to protect… to love… remains firmly planted in the government’s cross-hairs; hell bent on fulfilling his destiny to change the world. Constantly accosted by a fanatic sect of the Followers of Light, praising her as a false goddess in a religion she never truly believed in, Taya searches for something to return a sense of meaning and purpose in her life. As her skepticism for the impending coup grows so too does Gerrund’s lack of trust, undermining not only her sense of self-worth but their ability to overthrow a corrupt government.
Even as Taya desperately works to establish a communication network spanning the Deserts in an effort to keep a promise she never should have made, her past interferes causing any sense of the future to spiral out of control. It is up to Taya to fix herself and her fractured relationships in order to embrace her destiny and help two very different men attempt to alter the course of history.
Crossing Centre Street, just down the road from my building, I dug in my bag to retrieve the key-cards to the apartment. The front and back entrances required one, the mailbox and the interior lower stairwells another. A bio-chip reader stored my DNA in its memory. It was meant to allow only residents access to the apartment building: old, repurposed tech Gerrund and his cronies were able to amass without suspicion, became useful in this world of exiles, rock and replicated sunlight.
A woman with pale blue skin and gold coliths sitting at an outdoor café, reminded me of the poet, Merik, I’d once travelled the Deserts with. Leaving her half-eaten breakfast, the woman looked from something in her hand to me and back again several times. I gripped my bag and continued the half-block to my building. I shouldn’t have made eye contact.
“Zimi,” the woman said, weaving her way around the other patio tables.
“Zimi!” she said louder. I walked faster. I didn’t want to run and risk drawing even more attention. I didn’t know if she was an FOL, Follower of Light, or survivor of the incident. My heart bruised my chest as it tried to break free and force its way up into my throat.
No. Not again. Please Zola.
Other bystanders and pedestrians took notice of the woman following me, their heads turning or looking up from broken conversations. I risked a glance behind me. The woman waved something in the air above her head as she ran through the crowd. Suddenly, my hat was snatched by a stranger. I raised my hands to grab it back. The Nirian man holding it stared at the starburst-shaped scar covering my palms.
“Emvaso-al,” he whispered. Child of the Sun. It felt like my blood drained from my head into my legs, making it harder to move, to run.
The woman’s chants turned to desperate pleas, “Emvaso-al! Emvaso-al, please!”
People closed in around me. I tried to push through and break free, find an opening somewhere. But the closer I got to any one person, the more hands reached out for me. They grabbed my clothing, took my watch-scarf away, stroked my face, my hair. The air filled with an onslaught of voices and cries for help.
“Emvaso-al, please! Just touch them. Touch their faces. They need you Emvaso-al,” said the woman from the cafe.
“Child of the Sun, I’m in need of your guidance –” an old woman begged, pulling at the hem of my shirt.
Tick tick, tick tick, tick…
“Zimi, please touch my child’s cheek. Zimi–” said the man who’d grabbed my hat.
“Child of the Light, say a prayer for my daughter,” came another voice.
“My children are dying, give them peace, give them warmth, daughter of Zerameteth.”
Tick tick, tick tick, tick… The voice of the old watch ricocheted in my head with the absence of my wrist scarf. My sensitive half-Talian hearing magnified the sound and brought with it echoes of more than just my nightmares.
“Here, he’s right here.” The man dropped my hat, picked up his son and held the young child before me. “Let your spirit protect him.”
“Zimi, give me grace for long life. I have much yet to live for, my own children to protect,” crooned the old woman.
“And I,” chimed in an equally old man. “My family are lost to me. Guide my heart to find them before the Kronik–”
The father and the boy, the café woman, sick children, worried adults, all shifting places and changing faces – touching, grabbing, pleading, begging for me to do something I couldn’t.
Tick tick, tick tick, tick…
They demanded I be their saviour; that I help them when I couldn’t even help myself.
My knees trembled. My body shook with a scream trapped in my throat. I couldn’t hurt these people in order to save myself, not again, but I had to get out of there. I turned one way, then another. A new face, a new plea, a new sorrow crashed over me.
Another shift in the crowd. A void in the mass of bodies. My building became a beacon, waiting for me. Seizing my chance, I sprang forward and burst through the assembled masses. Like wild-fire, I consumed the distance between me and promised solitude.
Crashing through the main doors a nano-second after the bio-recognition sequence unlocked my sanctuary, I didn’t look back. I raced down the hall of the main level to the central staircase. Using another mini key-card I yanked the stairwell door open, ran up to the second floor, and careened down the hall to my apartment. Jamming the third mini-card against the bio reader above my mail basket, I wrenched the knob, slipped in, and slammed the door.
Tick tick, tick tick, tick…
M.J. Moores adds another level to the world of Xannia; an underground world that few know exists. Cadence of Consequences, Book 2 of The Chronicles of Xannia, is action packed, descriptive, well written, and full of personality. The story is told by several points of view and keeps the reader on their toes with the question, “what is going to happen next?”
Along with the above-ground world of Xannia, author, M.J. Moores, takes the reader back to the deserts for further exploration, and expands the under-ground world with great detail. New characters are introduced and fit in rather nicely.
I loved book 2 as much as I loved book 1, and highly recommend it to all readers of fantasy and science fiction.
I was provided a PDF copy from the author, in exchange for an honest review. 5 Stars
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Short Author Bio – M. J. Moores began her career as an English teacher in Ontario, Canada. Her love of storytelling and passion for writing has stayed with her since the age of nine. M. J. relishes tales of adventure and journeys of self-realization. She enjoys writing in a variety of genres but speculative fiction remains her all time favourite. M.J. is a regular contributor to Authors Publish Magazine and she runs an Emerging Writers website called Infinite Pathways where she offers editing services and platform building opportunities. Her debut novel Time’s Tempest is currently available in print and e-book with Book 2 launching September 28th, 2015.
Important Links –
Author Website – http://mjmoores.com
Facebook Page – http://facebook.com/AuthorMJMoores
Twitter – @AuthorMJMoores