Tuesday, March 24, 2020


Today is the official release of The New Emperor's Concerto and I'm so excited I finally get to share this one with you! I think it's my new personal favorite of my books. I can't wait to see what you guys think of my boys Lysander and Eidolon.

Get A Copy Here:

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

COVER REVEAL! "The New Emperor's Concerto" (Coming March 24th!)

It's finally time to share the cover for my upcoming book The New Emperor's Concerto and I am so excited! I can't wait to share this one with you!


The year is 2228 and the world is on the cusp of World War Four. London is rife with anarchists and secret plots. It looks like dark days are coming for the British Empire. Darker than any that have been seen for decades.

But luckily England has some help.

Sir Lysander is the King's Righteous Man-and all that entails. He's the king's right hand, and a red one at that, the man who stands in the shadows and does what needs to be done for the protection of his country. 

Eidolon is a phantom, the anarchist group Apophis's top retrieval expert. They need something, he gets it, no matter the consequence. Even though he'd secretly prefer to be in his flat with his cat and a good book.

They've been butting heads for a while but in times like these, loyalties are known to change and right now, any help is good help. They just didn't count on being the only thing standing between England and the start of the next world war.

Cover art by Giovanna Guimaraes 




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Monday, January 13, 2020

The Butler's Story (New Short Story Ebook!)

My brand new short story is out today! This one is a prequel to my upcoming novel The New Emperor's Concerto so check this out to get a taste of what is to come in that book!

The butler to the King’s Righteous Man must be someone who is brave, skilled, loyal, and above all, ready for any eventuality—whether it be an assassin after his master or high tea for ten guests on short notice.

Vincent Sinclair is the replacement for Sir Percival’s former butler who died under…unfortunate circumstances. It is now his duty to serve the Righteous Man in whatever he needs, whenever he needs it.

One of his duties is training the master’s son, Lysander, who will take over the title of Righteous Man when Sir Percival ultimately retires—or is taken off the field by less savory means, whatever comes first. Sinclair finds Lysander to be a bright boy, but one weighed down by the shadow of his father’s demands. Sinclair takes it upon himself to help the young master shine, so that Lysander can prove to his father that he has what it takes to be the next Righteous Man.

This prequel story to The New Emperor’s Concerto shares a look at what it’s like being in the family of the King’s Righteous Man from the butler’s perspective.


If you subscribe to my Ko-Fi account this month, you will get a free copy of "A Butler's Story" and get to see exclusive sneak peeks of The New Emperor's Concerto! Check that out here: www.ko-fi.com/hazelwest

Thursday, January 9, 2020

Subscribe to me on Ko-Fi!

Hey guys! So I don't know how many of you have heard about Ko-fi, but it's essentially a virtual tip jar sort of thing that is based around the idea of buying creators (artists, writers, etc.) a cup of coffee. I recently got an account, to help raise funds for my book releases. I have many projects this year, first of which is The New Emperor's Concerto (Releasing in February) and I am also planning on redoing some covers and doing edits for some of my other books.

I recently put a subscription option on my Ko-fi account. Essentially, it's just like Patreon. For $5 a month, you can help support me and my writing endeavors, and in return you will get exclusive content each month. Things like sneak peeks for upcoming projects or even original scenes and short stories just for my Ko-fi subscribers. 

For January, if you subscribe you will get a free ecopy of the prequel short story to The New Emperor's Concerto "The Butler's Story" which will be out Tuesday (Jan 14th) 

(Also, Ko-fi runs through PayPal so it's completely safe to use.) 

I would really appreciate you guys helping me out. Really the only way Indie authors make money is crowd funding, so any little bits helps. Even if you don't want to subscribe on Ko-fi, buy me a couple coffees. If you go onto my page, you can see my book launch goal. We're currently 45% of the way there! 

You can also help me out by checking out my booksale on eBay where I am selling some books I unhauled from my shelves. (A lot of really good condition YA books, and some signed copies)

So please consider visiting my Ko-fi! It would be much appreciated :)

Sunday, December 8, 2019

Book Sale!

So, the other day when I posted my sneak peek of The New Emperor's Concerto, I mentioned I was going to do a book sale to help raise money to hire a cover artist. I thought this would be a fun way to do so since I recently unhauled a lot of books that are in really good condition (some signed special editions I got in subscription boxes) and books are always great for Christmas gifts :)

So here's the link to my page on eBay: https://www.ebay.com/str/usedandnotsorarebooks

Everything is first come, first serve except the signed copies which will be up on auction for a week. Some things will be sold alone and others will be sold as sets.

I'm also running a deal where if you buy 3 listings, you get free shipping!

Here's a preview of what's up there:

Books sold separately


Series books sold together


Signed special editions

I also have a couple copies of my own books that I've had hanging around for a while, which I'm adding to the pot. These will also be signed. 

Help me spread the word about the sale around social media if you can! I want to get as many sales as possible so I can commission a cover artist asap.

If you don't want to take part in the sale, I'd appreciate you checking out my Ko-Fi account where I'm also raising money for the launch

Friday, December 6, 2019

The New Emperor's Concerto Sneak Peek!

So, if you've been following me on social media you might have seen me tease a bit about this book, but now that NaNo is over, I am officially starting promotion on it as I'm hoping for a February release.

What is The New Emperor's Concerto about?
The year is 2223 and the world is on the cusp of World War Four. London is rife with anarchists and secret plots. It looks like dark days are coming for the British Empire. Darker than any that have been seen for decades.

But luckily England has some help.

Sir Lysander is the King's Righteous Man-and all that entails. He's the king's right hand, and a red one at that, the man who stands in the shadows and does what needs to be done for the protection of his country. 

Eidolon is a phantom, the anarchist group Apophis's top retrieval expert. They need something, he gets it, no matter the consequence. Even though he'd secretly prefer to be in his flat with his cat and a good book.

They've been butting heads for a while, but in times like these loyalties are known to change and right now, any help is good help. They just didn't count on being the only thing standing between England and the start of the next world war.

So if you like futuristic stories with a historical flair, and the good guys and bad guys having to work together to save the world, this is for you.

Sneak Peek

he halls were dark, empty and silent, save for his own bootsteps across the industrial tile flooring. Sir Lysander, which was our hero’s name, scanned the area with much scrutiny, looking for anything out of place.
One must be thorough when doing a particular mission for the King after all. And when one held the title of King’s Righteous Man*, that was even more important.
A chirp in his ear reminded him of his companion, waiting with the car. Lysander put a finger to the com so he could better hear the other man’s voice coming through the device.
“Anything of note, sir?”
Lysander stopped at a door that was slightly ajar, and opened it, only to find a broom closet that hadn’t been properly shut. “Not as yet,” he replied, taking it upon himself to close the door properly. “But His Majesty’s concern is my own, of course. And it does seem remarkably silent. Anything to report on your end?”
“The new guard at the gate still hasn’t shown up.”
Lysander considered this. It couldbe something sinister going on, though of course it could also be something as mundane as the new guard getting waylaid by a trip to the loo. “Keep an eye on it.”
Do you wish me to join you?”
“No,” Lysander replied. “Stay with the car. There’s no point in us both being in here if it turns out to be nothing.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Sinclair’s voice cut out and Lysander continued on his way through the research facility, abandoned by its workers for the night, not even a janitor to be found, which, come to think of it, was a bit odd.
He tugged the cuff of his glove down and tapped his wristband causing the display on his watch to come up, showing the time to be nearly 1:30 am. According to the rosters, the perimeter guard should have changed by now. If nothing else, it seemed that Lysander would have a poorly run roster to report to the king in one of London’s rather prestigious research labs.
Lysander turned down the next doorway toward the labs and nearly stumbled over the form laying across his path.
He pulled back, instinctively reaching for the gun at his thigh, before he crouched, turning the figure over. 
“Well, there’s the janitor,” he muttered to himself, tapping the com in his ear to activate it as he felt for a pulse, surprised to find the man still alive. “Sinclair, it looks like we might have a spot of trouble after all. I just found the janitor unconscious.”
“I would assume the new guard was likewise waylaid then,”Sinclair replied. “Shall I join you now, sir?”
Lysander smirked a little at the veiled eagerness in his man’s voice. “Watch the door. We don’t want anyone escaping.”
He rose and was about to continue down the hallway, when he heard the sound of breaking glass behind the door closest to him. Lysander drew his pistol, and kicked it in.
This was one of the labs, he saw instantly as he entered, long tables filled with glass and metal, beakers and vials, and things he couldn’t guess the use for. He could see some glass on the floor, but no sign of life. 
He stalked into the shadowed room, his dark clothing keeping him hidden save for the metallic glint of the king’s crest he wore on the breast of his waistcoat, telling of his occupation. That, however, was enough for the second man in the room.
A ghostly shape appeared out of the shadows with a roundhouse kick, slamming the gun out of Lysander’s hand.
He leapt back, regaining his footing, and blocked the next punch thrown at him with his forearm, before kicking out and gaining a grunt as his heavy boot connected with his opponent’s hip.
“Intriguing,” Lysander said mockingly. “I was told you were a ghost and had begun to believe it myself with all the times you’ve evaded me in the past. But it seems you are only a man of flesh and blood like all of us. What a disappointment.”
A wicked smirk appeared on the face of the other man as he ducked backwards into a beam of ambient light from a skylight. A shock of unnaturally white hair fell over his pale eyes, giving him an otherworldly look despite his obvious corporality. He gave a small bow.
“What a shame that I must disappoint one such as yourself,” he said. “I must say I am honored that the King would send his very own lapdog after me.”
Lysander lunged forward, and the other man skipped aside as if made of the shadows that crowded the majority of the room. Lysander stumbled into a metal table in his haste, hearing lab equipment crash to the floor. He cursed, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring his night vision gear. He heard a chuckle and spun around to see his opponent standing on another table, a gun in his hand. Lysander marveled at how he had gotten up there so fast and seemingly without any trouble. Perhaps he was a ghost after all.
“So sorry to cut this short, old chap, but I really must be going,” the pale man said and reached up.
Lysander dove for his gun on the floor, only to hear a shot ring out, and send his own weapon skittering across the floor. He leapt back and spun around, seeing the other man grabbing hold of a line with an automatic winch. He saluted Lysander as he was lifting off the floor and through the broken skylight.
Lysander grabbed for his gun one last time and turned to shoot, but by then the man was gone in a flutter of pale coattails and the Righteous Man cursed his bad luck, running for the door and barreling down the hallway to the stairs.
He tapped his com. “Sinclair, he’s on the roof, try to cut him off!”
He didn’t wait for an answer, throwing open the door to the stairs and tearing up them until he came out on the rooftop.
He spun around, gun held at the ready, looking for his escapee.
No one.
“Sinclair, do you have him?”
“I saw no one, sir. I’m sorry.”
 Lysander cursed, holstering his gun again. “We lost him.”

*The upper classes have long been known for their penchant for giving things rather ironic titles. So as you can imagine, a man with the illustrious title of “Righteous Man” is most likely anything but.


You can now add it on Goodreads HERE 

So, I'm currently working on raising money for a cover artist and the launch (because, starving artist). So I'm going to be doing a book sale this next week with some old books I don't want anymore (More on that later!)

I have also started a Ko-Fi account, which, if you don't know what it is, is sort of a virtual tip jar. You can go on and "buy me a coffee" and it will go toward my goal I've set for the launch. Between that and what I raise for the book sale, I'm hoping to have enough money so that I don't have to pay out of pocket for the cover artist and all the things that go along with the launch of a book. (Swag, giveaway copies, reparation for time spent on social media, etc). Essentially, anything will help out, and Ko-Fi works through PayPal so it's completely safe for all parties.

Eventually, I'm going to set up my Ko-Fi for subscriptions sort of like a Patreon but I'll do that a little closer to the release date and will let you guys know about that then. But it will definitely have some more exclusive perks you will be able to take part in for all of my upcoming projects.

Info about the book sale will be up here on Sunday when the sale starts. I will be sending out invites with the link to anyone who is "friended" to me on Goodreads so if you want to know as soon as the sale is live, you can go add me as a friend on GR. Otherwise, just follow my social media (Instagram and Twitter) for info. I hope to see you there! 

Saturday, November 23, 2019

NaNo2019 Sneak Peek!

So I promised after I reached the 50k that I was going to post an excerpt from my NaNo WIP "Come Marching Home" 

If you haven't been following me on Instagram or Twitter where I've mostly been posting about my project, this book is like a magical world alternative to ours with a WWI feel so like magical trench warfare. But instead of like most war stories where we follow the war front, this story is set after the war is over, and deals more about the issues with homecoming and war trauma. There's also brothers, because this is me. So this is the first chapter. (Part of the prologue is posted on my project page on the NaNo site if you want to check that out HERE)

(Also, Warning: this is not edited, so there's probably a lot of typos. Also, names of places are subject to change because the ones I have there now are just place holders until I can think of something better XD)

You can also look at my Pinterest board HERE

Chapter One

Ernst Keller knocked on the door to the final house on his rounds. Frau Klein’s baby boy had a fever and he’d made a tincture that would work well yet still be kind enough for an infant to use. 
            Her daughter, a girl of about eight, opened the door at his knock and he smiled.
            “And how are you, Lettie?” he asked, taking off his cap and stepping inside.
            “Alright,” she said with a small smile back before it turned into a frown. “Are you going to help Heinz?”
            Ernst reached out and tweaked her nose gently. “Don’t you worry, you’re brother will be right at rain soon enough. Now where’s your mother?”
            “In here, Ernst.”
            He followed the woman’s voice and found Frau Kline in the back room of the first floor, which was the nursery. She sat rocking and fussy baby and looked up gratefully when Ernst came in.
            “Thank you for coming,” she said.
            “Of course, let me see the little man.” He reached out and took the baby from her arms, reaching up to stroke the overly warm forehead. At his touch, he willed some of his healing ability into the baby, like he did when he planted the herbs for his garden. The infant stopped fussing and seemed to rest easier. He cradled him for a couple more minutes before he settled him into his cradle while Frau Klein stood by, watching anxiously.
            “It’s not anything too bad,” he promised her with a smile. “Just a little chill. The herbal mixture I brought will work fine.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out the small package. “A teaspoon of this in warm milk twice a day. He may fuss to drink it, but once he does, even one dose should start to work.”
            “Thank you,” Frau Klein told him and made her way to the kitchen. She fetched a purse and was about to count out coins. “How much do I owe you?”
            Ernst held up his hand. “Nothing for so little.”
            “But times are so tight,” she protested.
            “And I just have myself to feed,” Ernst reminded her gently. “If you wish to give me anything, a couple of those apple pastries the next time you make them are payment enough.”
            She smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. “Of course, dear. I’ll make them as soon as Heinz is feeling better.”
            Ernst left the house and made his way back to the shop. He had some more tinctures and medicines to put together today, things he was running low on. And he was going to have to move some of his herbs into the hothouse in preparation for the coming winter.  
            He didn’t get far down the road though, when someone called his name.
            He spun around and saw a telegraph boy running toward him.
            A sudden sickness seized him as the boy stopped in front of him.
            “What is it, Karl?” he asked.
            “A message for you,” Karl said and handed him the small, brown envelope.
            Ernst swallowed and fumbled in his pocket to pay the boy before hurrying back toward the shop. 
            He didn’t want to open it. Didn’t want the uncertainty to become certain. And yet, he couldn’t stand not knowing either.
            He dumped his satchel carelessly on the table, scattering a few bundles of dries herbs as he took one long look at the envelope and then with a breath to steel himself, he ripped it open.
            As he read the short message, he sagged in relief and slumped in a chair, legs like jelly and hands shaking. He said a quick prayer of thanks to the goddess of warriors and allowed himself to breathe again.
            Alfonse was on his way back to him.
            His brother was coming home.
It had been over a year since the war with Mongoland started after a series of events that led to a border raid that led to shots fired, that led to an important man getting shot. No one really knew how that turned into a full fledged war, but it had. And soon every man who could wield a weapon, magical or otherwise, was sent off to the trenches to fight for Tuton, in the hopes that the war would stay out there in the vast fields far away from the cities and the people.
            Alfonse had volunteered. He’d always been a bit restless for the small country village, and Ernst had always known that, but it had gotten worse since their parents died of a sickness that had swept through and taken them both, despite everything his mother had tried. Even healers couldn’t fix everything. 
            They’d been alone after that, and Ernst, only seventeen and only four years older than his younger brother, had to take over the business and raise Alfonse as well. 
            And that had been a task. He’d been a wild boy, though not in a bad way. Just free. He could cause mischief, but then smile and gain the hearts of the villagers all the same. He certainly had gained the hearts of most of the women in the village, that was for sure. Alf had been a ladies’ man pretty much since he could walk.
            And he was a natural magician, which meant that everyone offered him a certain respect. There weren’t a lot of them out here in the country.
            So when the war started, Alfonse had instantly wanted to go. It was probably best in the long run, Ernst now realized. He would have been conscripted soon enough, after a few months, when they realized that this fight wasn’t just going to blow over with a few blows and a couple peace treaties, everyone with magic, especially the natural magicians and alchemists had been taken to the front. Ernst had only stayed because he was given a pass as the only healer in his village and the only one with any natural talent until you got to Iron City. 
            Part of him wished to have gone with Alf in the beginning. It had been hard to let his little brother walk toward death alone. He was all Ernst had left, and the thought of losing him was unbearable. But another part seemed to realize that Alfonse needed to do this alone. He was nineteen when he left. A man, and a powerful magician. Ernst knew they needed him, and though he wanted to keep his baby brother to himself, he knew that he had to let him go this time.
            Every day was like walking on eggshells. Alfonse wrote to him at first then stopped. Ernst understood. He knew the war was hard. Their father had fought in the previous one, and he never talked about it. Sometimes he got that distant look in his eye that told them he was remembering something. But it was still hard for Ernst to know nothing of his brother’s safety or whereabouts. Nothing to rely on but the telegraphs that would come in every few days, telling of another soldier who wouldn’t be marching home. Every time he didn’t receive one he said a prayer of thanks, and asked for his brother’s protection.
            In the meantime, he ran the shop that their parents had left, tended his garden, and made his medicines. Tried to keep his spirits up, help where he was needed. He was one of the few young men left in town now, and so he did odd jobs for the soldier’s wives and the elderly. He neatly evaded the young women who showed up at his shop nearly daily to ask for some tincture for some new ache, oftentimes coming to a squabble right on his doorstep if more than one happened to show up. He smiled at the shopkeeper’s daughter, Ada, when he went to buy dry goods, which only made the other village girls more determined to win him over.
            He survived. But he missed his brother dearly. Alfonse had been Ernst’s constant companion for the majority of his life and all his other boyhood friends had gone to war with him. He tried not to feel so alone, but sometimes, he couldn’t really help it.
            But now his brother was coming back, and he felt as if something he didn’t know was there had been lifted form his chest. 
            He had a lot of preparation to see to. For the most part, Alfonse’s room had been left untouched, even his clothes were still there, since he only needed a uniform now. He cleaned the room though, dusted it, aired the sheets…not an easy task in the bleak, wet weather they had been having, but it would have to do. 
            The telegraph had said that Alfonse had been injured, but Ernst didn’t worry over much about that. He was a healer after all, the idea of an injured little brother did not daunt him. He simply made up a few more tinctures and creams that were good for wounds. 
            It was three days between the time Ernst received the telegraph to when the transport truck pulled up outside their shop door. 
            He had just been making up his orders for the day when he heard the rumbling sound of a magic engine outside. He dropped what he was doing instantly, tore off his apron and ran outside in his shirtsleeves.
            The back of the truck was sheltered with canvas, and a man got down, hauling out a trunk before another came around the back.
            Alfonse appeared then, a crutch held in one hand, and a wary look on his face as he eyed the distance between the truck bed and the ground. The man reached up and helped him to his feet.
            Alfonse swayed slightly, then stuck his crutch into the cobbles and looked up finally at the shop.
            Ernst was already moving, unable to stay away a moment longer. A grin spread across his face despite himself, and his arms were already open when Alfonse turned to see him.
            “Alf!” he cried and caught his brother up in a cheerful embrace.
            He was so glad to see him that for the first few seconds he didn’t realize Alf wasn’t hugging him back. 
            In fact, upon the initial embrace, Alfonse stiffened up entirely. It was only after a few seconds that he relaxed his brother’s hold, forehead lowering to rest on his shoulder, even if his arms didn’t wrap around Ernst like they normally would have.
            Ernst held him for a little while longer, taking stock of the extra few inches his brother had grown—taller than he was now!—and the pounds his already slim brother had lost. He could feel the lean muscle, but there was more bone than he would like. His cheek rested on top of the dark head, inhaling deeply. 
            “Welcome home, brother,” he said, then pulled away.
            Alfonse looked startled to lose the contact, and perhaps also a little relived. Ernst smiled reassuringly and finally, Alf’s lips curled up a little too. A bit of relief shot through Ernst’s chest. He reached out to squeeze Alfonse’s shoulder. 
            “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast. You should get off that leg.”
            And like that, his brother was home.
            At least in body.
            As Ernst turned away to pick up the trunk, his smile faded because of the look he had seen in his brother’s eyes. It was the same he had seen in his father’s when he was having a bad day. 
            He feared that, perhaps, Alfonse had left something of himself back at the war front.

 How is everyone else doing on NaNo this year?