BLAST, BLITZ, PROMOS, REVEALS, & TOURS . . . : SPOTLIGHT w/ INTERVIEW - EPIC FANTASY - THE STAFF OF BECKONING (Symphony of Speres, #1) by Praneet Menon

The Staff of Beckoning

A Symphony of Spheres, #1

by Praneet Menon

Date of Publication: September 18th 2024

Publisher: Kaaran Publishing

Genre: Epic Fantasy

ASIN: B0DDVVN76P

Number of pages: 437

Word Count: 115,000

Tagline: Adir Nathar’s search for safety ignites a battle against ancient forces, where survival means confronting the shadows of fate—and his own destiny.

BLURB

In the meticulously-crafted world of Leakarha, where epic fantasy, mythos, and ancient prophecies intertwine, the existence of its inhabitants is shaped by forces beyond their control.

Adir Nathar's tough childhood and prescriptive, quiet life in the village of Marafel made him yearn for more. He got what he wished for, but not in the way he expected. His proximity to an inexplicable death made him the target of revenge, forcing him to flee from his family and home, seeking only safety and a fresh start. But existence had other plans. The Khasmia Shadow, a secret society with a divine purpose, is hunting Adir, unbeknownst to him. Their purpose: rid the world of a destructive creature called a venna, using the sacred Staff of Beckoning. Leakarha itself is undergoing a seismic shift. Rakhor, terrible demonspawn, are being seen in increasing numbers!

As the Khasmia Shadow closes in on him, Adir is thrust into an existence-altering journey across Leakarha with companions new and old. As he is pushed deeper into his own shadows, Adir realizes that he may not merely be a piece to be moved but rather the key to the game itself.

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Excerpt:

“Where are you going?” Tia’s eyes were wide with anxiety.

“Out.”

“But I don’t know this town at all.”

“Don’t leave the inn then!”

As soon as he stepped out into the night, all of his warmth left him. However, the wheat ales—much stronger than he was used to—had begun to take effect. That, combined with the fact that his last meal had been hours before, made the cold a distant sensation. Strapping his staff to his back, he picked a direction and wandered off—his mind getting mushier and more vulnerable to his increasingly foul mood.

Tia had always been a very supportive girl. What had changed? Or had she always been like this and her support was just an act? Did she really think that he would abandon her? I would never do such a thing, he thought indignantly. He wasn’t his father. Sure, yea, he could be a little flirtatious, he admitted. But that was harmless. Why couldn’t Tia see that? After all, he’d asked her to run away with him. Didn’t that imply he wanted to start a life with her? Didn’t that mean anything to her? His mind was plagued with too many questions and not enough answers.

Abruptly, he found himself in a dark, dimly lit alley, with buildings rising up around him.

Everything seemed ... slightly off. Hesitantly, he walked down the alley and made a few turns. A few moments of wandering later, he admitted that he was lost and decided to retrace his steps, but it all looked unfamiliar. With no other option he kept walking, hoping to find his way back, when he came upon three men in a dark corner.

“Give it up, you unworthy bastard!” said one of the men, who had a lilting accent. He was clutching another man’s collar in one hand while wielding a knife in the other. A third man stood and watched.

“I did not steal it! He gave it to me!” cried the captive man.

“Do not lie, you swinespawn!”

“I swear by the names of the Miakos. He gave it to me!”

The third man still just stood and watched.

Adir wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was his anger and he just needed to let it out. Or maybe he understood how the captive man felt; after all, he had been ambushed a couple of times himself. Whatever the reasoning of his drink-addled mind, he unstrapped his staff and charged.

The man who’d been watching noticed Adir and whirled around, pulling out a knife of his own. However, knives were a poor defense against the long reach of a staff. Adir whipped his staff sideways, cracking the man in the skull, who dropped to the ground, motionless.

The man who held the captive by his collar was startled by the sudden attack and shoved his captive to the ground. The captive lay on his stomach, face cupped in his hands as if trying to shut out his current plight.

Adir felt a surge of energy course through him as he pulled his staff back, preparing for a thrust.

He lunged, briefly catching a look of horror on the man’s face, and thrust his staff square into the man’s chest. The impact sent the man flying a few paces before he slammed into a wall and slumped to the ground.

For a moment that lasted one flap of a bee’s wing, Adir saw a rain- bow-colored haze on his hand, creeping up his arm. Fearfully, he jerked his hand to his face for a closer examination, but the haze was no longer there.

The once-captive, now-free man looked up from his prone position and surveyed the scene, then stood. “Thank you, master,” he said, bowing and scraping. “I am forever in your debt.”

The man’s words seemed to tumble out of his mouth in a clatter, or maybe Adir couldn’t understand him on account of being severely drunk. “What did you steal from them?” Adir asked, eyeing the man suspiciously, his inebriation fueling his paranoia. Sure, he’d saved the bearded man, but that didn’t mean the man was harmless.

“I did not steal anything, master,” the man said, still pronouncing every word oddly.

Adir looked at him, trying to force his eyes to focus. “All right,” he said, realizing that he’d do nothing even if the man admitted to stealing something. All he really wanted to do was get back to the inn and sleep. “Do you know the way to The Soft Pillow?” he asked, trying and failing miserably to strap his staff onto his back.

“Ya, master,” the man replied with enthusiasm. “I will take you there.”

Author Info

Born and raised in India, Praneet’s life began immersed in a medley of cultural, linguistic, and spiritual traditions that sparked his passion for storytelling. Then, he moved to the United States and has now spent more than half his life there. The two cultural backgrounds have led him to embrace a fusion of Eastern and Western philosophies that deeply influence his writing.

Praneet also spent the better part of two decades working as an engineer and flight instructor, which instilled in him a precision that he brings to his existence-building, pursuing that perfect blend of reality and fantasy. His exploration of philosophy and psychology at an early age allows him to imbue his stories with age-old themes of identity, purpose, and destiny. These themes play a central role in his debut novel, The Staff of Beckoning, Book 1 of the series A Symphony of Spheres.

Praneet lives in Vermont, embracing a homesteading lifestyle, community involvement, and writing while pursuing a master’s in counseling.