Tales from the Dreamlands, Book 2
Paranormal Fantasy, Occult and Supernatural, Lovecraftian, Sci-Fi Fantasy
Publication Date: April 1, 2023
The Wizard’s Key is the second book in a series of New Cthulhu Mythos tales. This fix-up novel features a fascinating cast of outcasts on a quest to save the Cosmos from destruction by malevolent forces. Join them on their madcap journey.
This fix-up novel follows the events that transpired in Ketil and Yitzy’s Adventure in the Xura Dream House. The book can be read as a standalone, but for a better understanding of the characters and events, it is suggested that Ketil and Yitzy’s Adventure in the Xura Dream House should be read first. It is a fun, fast-paced buddy story with plenty of creepy, crazy twists and turns.
Once you have read Ketil and Yitzy’s Adventure, you will be In the Know so you can be In with the In Crowd! Then you can join us at the Kewl Eldritch Horrors table.
Corporate Climbers vs. Bleeding Hearts and Artists
“The one I refer to as the Galaxy Girl is the soul knowed as Pepper Baiij in this lifetime,” Ketil revealed. “There is those who say that Pepper is simply unlucky. It is others which say that Pepper brings to herself her own troubles by being terribly lazy and unmotivated. Pepper is not unmotivated, if presented with tasks that interest her. She can easy become distracted from tasks which does not interest her and can become quickly depressed if forced to carry on with such tasks for extended periods of time.
“Some have said that Pepper is entitled and expects the world to be handed to her upon a silver platter when she was born with a plastic spoon in her mouth. This is inaccurate. Pepper is not entitled or a snob, but she was wired for more than what a nine-to-five job which squashes her creative spirit offers.
“When we believe that people is only as worthwhile as their willingness to climb a corporate ladder, then surely people such as Pepper and all of us is worth about as much as yellow snow. To some people, the only measure of success is to achieve a number above the salary they earned the previous year at the corporation to which they drive daily. For these people, the life of nine to five in a fine office is the best of all possible atmospheres. But for those who prefer to detail the story of their lives on creative canvasses, the daily commutes to and from the office is dead-end drives, for beyond the afterglow effect of receiving money with which to pay the bills, each hour spent in the office is but a slow march to death for their soul.
“Thus, the corporate ladder climb is all fine and good for the sort of Theodore Thirsty what derives joy from being toasty in Topeka in their luxury office. I do not in any case trust such Theodores. They seem initially to be people-pleasers, but all too often these men of mystery is sipping on subterfuge while minty descriptions slip from their silver tongues to camouflage lemony liabilities. If one is not a watchful Winifred in the company of these Theodores, one can find oneself knee-deep in the aftermath of consuming too great a portion of chili cheese custard.”
“It seems ter me, Ketil, that your old China Plate Pepper is much more the bloomin’ sort of lassie wot prefers whimsy and wildflowers ter stuffy offices and climbin’ of corporate ladders and whatnot,” Little John observed as he and Robin shared a platter of what looked disturbingly like a half-dozen large kangaroo rats that had been left out in the sun to bloat before being consumed, while Rilpu swallowed a creature resembling a fresh, plump toad. Yitzy the Yithian, meanwhile, seemed quite content to delicately sip the apricot-hued ambrosia of the Pxab Plume into one of his four trumpetlike mouths.
“It is a shame that the juice of the Pxab Plume is not more intoxicating,” Ketil quipped, pouring a serving of the beverage into a wine goblet the yellow hue of which reminded the spirit of Earth’s sun. “For I should quite like to blur the sight of you lot gorging yourselves on rodents and toads from my unfortunate brain.”
“You ain’t got a brain, Ketil, yer a ghost,” Robin chortled.
About the Author
C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should Not Be.
When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods that she hopes will be considered palatable.
Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch horrors.
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