Immortals' Requiem by Vincent Bobbe - Book Tour + Giveaway
Immortals' Requiem
by Vincent Bobbe
Genre: Epic Grimdark Fantasy
There are beings that live a shadow's breadth from our reality...
They are the dreams and nightmares of humanity, the ancient seeds of
fairy-tale and superstition. These are the Immortals, creatures of
magic that should live forever... and
they are fading.
fairy-tale and superstition. These are the Immortals, creatures of
magic that should live forever... and
they are fading.
When a horror two thousand years dead returns to contemporary England,
creatures long thought lost to myth and legend collide in a scramble
for survival that could tumble civilisation back into the dark ages
of blood and death.
creatures long thought lost to myth and legend collide in a scramble
for survival that could tumble civilisation back into the dark ages
of blood and death.
Immortals’ Requiem is a Tolkienesque grimdark fantasy based in both a modern day city and
vast supernatural worlds. If you like the idea of a drunken elf with
a shotgun, an ancient warrior with a chainsaw and a whole host of
violent supernatural beings you’ll love this gritty Amazon Number 1 Bestseller.
vast supernatural worlds. If you like the idea of a drunken elf with
a shotgun, an ancient warrior with a chainsaw and a whole host of
violent supernatural beings you’ll love this gritty Amazon Number 1 Bestseller.
Buy Immortals' Requiem to lose yourself in this epic award
winning dark fantasy adventure today!
Or, Get the Book FREE HERE!
The car pulled up
a few feet from Sam, and the occupants poured out. ‘What the fuck? Did you
think you could outrun a Ferrari? You stupid fucking prick.’ The four men
walked towards him, Skinhead at the front. Sam waited patiently. Skinhead
stopped a foot from Sam.
Skinhead lashed
out at him, his fist slamming into Sam’s face. Sam felt it, but it was as if
the sensation came from a distance. He registered the impact, but he did not
feel pain, nor did he feel any need to move. It was like being hit by a wet
sponge.
‘The problem with
you lot,’ he said as he casually reached out and gripped Skinhead by the
throat, ‘is that you do not recognise a demigod when you see one.’ Sam tossed
the bigger man to the ground.
‘What?’ Spiky
Hair whined. His eyes were wide, and they were stuck on Skinhead who was lying
on the ground holding his throat.
‘Why are you
driving around like this anyway? The cost of renting this thing … and the
petrol … it’d be cheaper to go and have a few drinks. You might actually meet
someone the old-fashioned way, rather than trying to pick up some poor little
bitch, too pissed to know what she’s doing. That’s what you’re up to, right?
It’s pathetic.’
Skinhead had
gotten back to his feet. His face was a mask of anger. Sam was enjoying
himself. ‘I’m warning you,’ Skinhead said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
‘What? You’re
going to assault my fingers with your throat again? I like this car; I think
I’m going to keep it.’
‘I’m going to
kill you,’ said Skinhead.
‘You’d be
surprised at how hard that is.’ Sam looked at the men and realised he was
already bored. ‘Go on, get lost before I decide to actually hurt you.’
Skinhead marched
up to him and started waving his hands around in Sam’s face. ‘I’m not some
little bitch, you know. I’ll fucking kill you. You can’t come over here and
threaten me. Do you know who I am? Do you?’ Spiky Hair and Pink Polo Shirt came
and grabbed Skinhead by the arms to hold him back. Sam watched the act with
bemusement. ‘You motherfucker,’ Skinhead raged on. ‘You motherfucker. You pansy
ass, queer fucking bastard. You think you’re hard; you think you’re some kind
of hard man – I’ll fucking smoke you.’ A fleck of spittle landed on Sam’s face.
‘Go home. You’re
getting boring.’
‘Boring? I’ll
show you fucking boring – I’ll show your wife fucking boring. I’ll stuff my
fucking cock in her mouth, you homo bastard. I’ll …’
Sam had stopped
listening. With the mention of his wife, amusement had tripped over into pure,
unadulterated rage. His face twisted up, and a low growl issued from his
throat. He fixed his eyes on Skinhead, who met his gaze and stopped speaking.
Fear crossed his face.
‘Fuck, look at
his eyes,’ Mobile Phone mumbled from behind them.
‘Let him go,’ Sam
said to Spiky Hair and Pink Polo Shirt. ‘Let him go and then start running,
because as soon as I’m done with him, I’m coming for you. That’ll give you
maybe ten seconds. Run and hide.’ The other three turned and ran back across
the car park together. ‘You want to fight me? You’ve got your wish,’ Sam said
in a harsh voice.
‘I don’t want to
fight you,’ Skinhead said. A thick waft of urine rose from the man.
‘Too late,’ Sam
said.
‘Please?’
Skinhead begged softly. Sam snarled. Skinhead’s screams were cut off before
they even started. Then Sam went after the others.
Vincent Bobbe is nearly forty years old. When he was about ten, he tripped on
an Edgar Rice Burroughs novel and fell into his own brain. He's not
quite managed to climb out yet, because the things that found him in
there keep clawing him back in.
an Edgar Rice Burroughs novel and fell into his own brain. He's not
quite managed to climb out yet, because the things that found him in
there keep clawing him back in.
He's happily married with two young children and lives in Manchester,
England. His wife is horrifically allergic to pretty much everything,
so he doesn't have any pets. This suits him.
England. His wife is horrifically allergic to pretty much everything,
so he doesn't have any pets. This suits him.
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2 Comments
Thanks for posting, much appreciated!
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