Men will reign.Washed ashore on the land of Ruyn, Ealrin Bealouve is a man with no memory of his past.Desperate to discover who he was and return to his homeland, Ealrin journeys through a continent ruled by elves, dwarves, and men.But a growing hatred threatens to destroy the peace that has held the continent together for centuries. Ealrin must choose. Will he abandon his quest to remember his past, or join the fight against genocide?Magic and betrayal, war and legend, his journey through Gilia will change Ealrin's fate forever.THREE entire trilogies and three bonus chapters await you in this true epic fantasy adventure! Dragons, magic, goblins, empires, elves, dwarves, and much more! Included in the Omnibus:Sword of RuynMagic of RuynDragon of RuynElves of IrradanClans of IrradanWars of IrradanArrows of LadisDaggers of LadisSpears of LadisThree chapters from book 10, Crystals of Redact

    

    

    Soon she discovers she has no choice, unless she can win an ancient and mysterious board game. And every roll of the dice leads her further into danger. The Name at the End of the Ladder is a fantasy adventure for younger readers by award-winning New Zealand poet Elena de Roo. This junior fiction novel about the power of language and friendship is ideal for fans of Jumanji, Zathura and The Phantom Tollbooth. For more about the author and her books, please visit www.elenaderoo.com

    

    They are called Seekers. There are Seekers of tigers, lions, monkeys – all the creatures under the sun.But a Seeker of the Dragon? Such hasn’t been seen for centuries.Until Jaden of Lessertown.Jaden dreamt of his Legendary Beast on the morning his life changed forever. Enlisted to become an Imperial Seeker and serve the cruel Emperor, he is thrown into an initiation ceremony that is brutal beyond comprehension. But it doesn’t last for long, because there are others who wish to train Seekers, rebels from within the mysterious Hidden City.It is in this Hidden City where Jaden will learn how to control his magic and find a cause worth fighting for. But being the first Dragon Seeker in centuries brings attention, and not all of it is good…

    

    Under the treaty, the Sisters of Astraea were proclaimed the judicators of the land because they could tell truth from lie—a gift of a golden viper bestowed on the Sisters by the God Naga. The treaty prevented a revolution by the commoners which would have ended the nobility. Now, however, many nobles want to go back to being above the law and Duke Chaney is using this discontent to raise an army against the king. Senior Judicator Tenzen sets out with Jola, a newly promoted judicator, to investigate the growing hostility, unaware the rebels are killing judicators to keep the rebellion a secret. Fortunately Jola has been trained in the art of the sword, grew up as a homeless street-urchin, and knows how to survive. But it will take more than surviving to stop the rebellion. No one could have anticipated that the faith of the kingdom may depend on Jola's ability to untangle the discontented from the traitorous.

    

     Think of every single word, Every word you’ve heard. Every single word you say, Has a secret magic way! Like words can be kind, With love and some care. Or truly amaze, And capture your stare! So why not dive into this funny rhyming picture book to uncover everything words can do! This is a lovely fully illustrated picture book for children with heaps of humour that guides your through with exciting rhyme! And discover the true magic a word can do to others!

    After a mysterious stranger visits them, Mo tells Meggie they must go into hiding. But why? - and from whom?

    Follow Mira's story as she faces life as a single mother, wrestles with the constant call of the ocean to her mermaid nature, and joins an all-male salvage team who is less than thrilled to have her. When my mother died, I ran to the ocean like a coward. Its cradle of salt puckered my memories and withered my sorrow like a grape drying in the sun. I had cheated grief and was foolish enough to think I had gotten away with it.When Nathan died, I couldn’t run away. No matter how much I flinched, bending toward the Atlantic the way ivy strains for rays of light, I could not leave. Grief was back to take what belonged to it for the time it was allotted. I had everything I wanted a few short years ago. My mate. My daughter. A home, a family. It made my head spin to think how much could change so suddenly. I mused, wondering later if I was the only mermaid to ever walk fully through the five stages of grief. But I had my daughter.Targa had yet to turn, the color and shape of her fins were yet to be revealed, but she would. I had been so sure of it then. Siren genes are passed from mother to daughter, without fail. Young legs melded into a shimmering virgin tail in response to a salty sea. But Targa didn’t turn in response to ocean water, not the first time, not any time after that. Something was wrong. I shoved my fear down deep into some dark corner where Targa would not see it and said with a smile that we’d just have to keep trying. I had turned at the age of three, but if there could be late-bloomers in the human race, why not ours too?Her fifth birthday came and went, still she hadn’t turned. Concern sent its barbs into me like a thistle, then it rooted and grew.Targa and I had weekly late night secret swims in the Atlantic, which had once been fun but were now polluted with expectation and suspense. Coaching sessions (my idea), where I attempted human psychology exercises I’d found in outdated textbooks at the library; guided visualization, breathing techniques, and even a failed go at hypnosis. The memory of her skinny little frame sitting in a bathtub containing more salt than water (Targa’s idea) is still enough to fill my eyes with moisture.I don’t know exactly when she lost hope, but she hid it expertly, patiently participating however I asked.I ignored the creeping thoughts that whispered in my mind; she didn’t even like water, didn’t really want to go for swim, couldn’t hear the ocean calling her. I would shove the thoughts away violently, excusing them as nothing but my own anxiety. It was ridiculous. A daughter of a mermaid who disliked the ocean. Impossible. When I muzzled those fears, I became aware of others of a different kind. Not my own, but hers, for me.She could see the want in my eyes. Whatever mechanism bees and dogs used to smell fear, Targa had it for despair. She could sense it on me, reeking like cheap perfume. Her eyes dipped in desperation, her obvious desire not to disappoint me sliced through me like a white-hot blade from heart to gut. She thought she was my tormentor. The realization struck like a hammer and gave me the strength to do what was needed: Let it go.The ocean could call. I’d let the smell of it crucify me, the sound of its waves crash against me, echo through me, call me, beg me.Targa’s need and my love for her was greater. If she never turned and I was locked in a land-cycle for the rest of our lives, so be it.So be it.