The Adventure of the Temple of Ubasti
matter how subtle.
Most of his stories involve the following three main characters:
Medb hErenn [https://www.medbherenn.com/]--One-time queen of Ireland, she is over 3500 years old. A warrior and a sorceress, she cannot be harmed by any weapon made by the hand of man.
Eile and Sunny, Team Girl [https://www.teamgirlforever.com/]--They are two adorable, vivacious, fun-loving young women whose motto is ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!!! Yet trouble follows them like a love-sick puppy wherever they go.
Sir Differel Van Helsing [https://www.sir-differel.com/]--The descendent of Abraham Van Helsing and King Arthur, she heads the Caerleon Order, the premier monster-hunting organization of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth. She commands Dracula, the most powerful vampire extant, and the greatsword Caliburn, better known as Excalibur.
He also writes a series of sword & sorcery stories set in an alternative universe known as the Lands of the Dreams of Men.
Kevin lives in Denver with his family and 4 cats.
For more information, see the Songs of the Seanchai [https://www.seanchaisongs.com/].
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Discover other titles by Kevin L. O'Brien:
A fidus Aranea, Adventurer's Honeymoon, Barbarians R Us, The Beast of Exmoor, The Christmas Vampires, Dark Vengeance, Desperate Acts, Disposable Commodities, Do Unto Others, Far-Sight, Feline Savior, Gourmand Hag, Gratuitous Crossover, Gruff Tolls, Immanuel, Inseparable, The Lions of Inganok, Man Friday, Masie's Mind, No Torrent Like Greed, Oak Do Hate, Post-Traumatic Redemption, Pride and Fall, Sacrificial Offering, Shenanigans, The Steel Gazelle
Enjoy these other titles at fine ebook retailers everywhere.
Available on Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/story/list/20075368
A Deliberation of Morality, The Denver Walker, Fun 'n' Games, The Golden Mushroom, In an Octopus's Garden, Jigsaw Dragon, One-Percenter Vendetta, The Peril Gem, The Price of Folly, Redshirt, Rhapsody in Orange, A Typical Friday Night, Youthful Indiscretion
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Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien Online:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KLOB_writer
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kevin.l.obrien.1
Website: https://www.seanchaisongs.com/
DeviantArt: https://teamgirl-differel.deviantart.com/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Kevin_L_OBrien
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Sample Excerpts
From "The Beast of Exmoor"
Sir Differel Van Helsing shifted her posture, but in a slow, careful manner that avoided large body movements. She had been sitting in the same position too long and her muscles had become sore, but she didn't want to call attention to herself or she might frighten off her prey. Despite the pad beneath her, the rock outcrop was too hard to be comfortable. At least there was no wind, but it had started snowing a couple of hours before. Not too heavily, but enough for the camouflage netting that covered her to be dusted like a powdered donut. Though bundled against the cold--she wore a fur-lined snorkel parka with thick leggings under her ankle-length skirt while wrapped in a blanket--she felt chilled after several hours of inactivity, and certain parts of her body, such as her face and hands, had to be either exposed or covered only by a thin garment. She couldn't use any kind of heated wrap that might melt the snow and make her look unnatural, though she wore battery-operated thermal socks under her fur-lined mukluks. On top of all that, the coffee in her thermos had grown cold, and lunch had been an unheated portable military ration consisting of a meat and cheese pocket sandwich, crackers, a nutrition bar, and trail mix. After eating it she understood why some soldiers referred to them as mystery rations and considered them inedible. Fortunately she had the foresight to bring along a few extra snacks.
She pulled an apple out of a pocket and polished it against her parka as she leaned forward and peered through the spotting scope draped in more netting. As bad as she thought her situation was, she wouldn't have traded places with the poor ewe staked out on the heath about twenty yards in front of and below her. As least it wore a thick coat of wool, but to her it looked rather miserable standing out there in the snow unable to move farther than the length of its tether. Besides which, it was meant to be bait to lure her target within range of her Weatherby Mark V .460 Magnum rifle. She realized that ammunition may have been overkill, since it had been designed to bring down rhinoceroses and elephants, but she didn't want to take any chances. No one knew what the Beast of Exmoor was, and she wanted to kill it with a single shot if possible.
She took a bite of the apple as she sat back. Since the seventies, locals had reported seeing a phantom cat haunting the Exmoor region straddling Somerset and Devon along the Bristol Channel. They described it as resembling a panther, between four and eight feet long from nose to rump, and either black, gray, or tan in color. Various theories had been proposed to explain it, including misidentification (which she considered unlikely since the locals were very familiar with the regional wildlife), a new version of the black dog myth (which she thought ridiculous since people still claimed to see black dogs), or an outright hoax (which she couldn't discount). One that she had favored at first was that it was a pet released after the passage of the 1976 Dangerous Wild Animals Act, which made it illegal for private citizens to own big cats. However, after she investigated more thoroughly, she found four pieces of evidence that convinced her otherwise.
One was the longevity of the Beast. If it was the same individual it would be at least as old as she was, and while she had no idea how long big cats usually lived in the wild, she figured twenty-two years was getting rather ancient. Another was that the Beast had been seen before 1976; in fact, local records indicated it had been observed for centuries; the seventies were just when it came to national attention. The third was it displayed an odd behavior pattern. The Beast was often blamed for dead sheep and red deer found on the moor, as well as the occasional moor pony foal or farm calf. However, roughly every seven years the number of killings sharply increased for a year or so, then dropped off; over 200 animals had been killed or disappeared between 1983 and 1984 alone. She had consulted zoologists and ethologists who were experts on big cat behavior and none of them could describe anything similar in any known species. Finally, a big cat killed its prey by biting the throat and suffocating it. When the current outbreak began, she asked Dr. LeClerc to examine a number of bodies. Most showed the telltale signs of having been killed by dogs or people, but a significant minority had had their necks broken by a powerful bite.
But if it wasn't an escaped or released big cat, she had no idea what it might be.
"Base to Differel." Aelfraed's voice came over her radio. "Base to Differel. Come in Sir Differel. Over."
She set the half-eaten apple aside. "Sir Differel here, Base. Over."
"Report, please. Over."
She smiled. Politeness was unnecessary and inefficient for radio communication, but since it was her he was speaking to, he couldn't help himself.
"All's quiet. Haven't seen a thing all day, except for a few ponies, some Devon cattle, and the Emperor of Exmoor and its harem. Wish I had a camera." The Emperor was a red deer stag that was the largest wild animal in Britain. "What of the other posts? Over." Half a dozen other snipers had been positioned in that local area, gunning for the Beast.
"Nothing different, Madam, though LCpl. Bennings thought he saw something ninety minutes ago. Unfortunately it was too well hidden to identify. Over."
That was the perennial problem with the Beast. The BBC described it as "famous yet elusive". During the height of the '83 outbreak, Royal Marine snipers had been sent in to kill it, but whereas many of them reported seeing it, none felt a successful shot was feasible. Their commanding officer had reported that it seemed to behave with high intelligence, seemingly almost human-like at times, and that it "always moved with surrounding cover amongst hedges and woods." The attacks did decrease during that time,
but increased again as soon as the Marines withdrew. She hadn't expected the Caerleon Order to fair much better, though she had hoped that better camouflage and tempting it with food would work. She began to wonder if they had become involved too late.
"Any news on the search for Patsy? Over."
"Unfortunately no, Madam, and with the storm front moving in the constabulary holds out little hope of finding her alive. Over."
She frowned as a grim mood settled in her mind. That had made the current outbreak different from all previous. There are had been four since the first confirmed sightings: 1976 as well 1983, which helped to make the Beast national news, followed by 1990, and finally the current one that had started the previous year. Unfortunately, it coincided with the invasion of the Fomorian wizard-king Grendel, and the United Kingdom had been too busy fighting for its life to worry about a cryptid. By the time Grendel had finally been defeated, the current Beast outbreak had wound down. She followed it mostly out of curiosity for the rest of the year, but was too busy rebuilding the Order to get directly involved, until five days before when Patsy Conover, a nine year old farm girl, had