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L. J. Amber
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January 2024
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Song of the Wild Knight – Song of the Squire
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L. Amber
rated a book it was amazing
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L. Amber
rated a book it was amazing
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"Thank you to L J Amber for providing me with an ARC! <3
Simply: I loved this book. I’m always a sucker for an ugly duckling who learns to see their worth, and L J Amber has Elly find her feet in the *hottest* way possible. Elly is a half-elf squire who" Read more of this review » |
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L. Amber
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"Song of the Wild Knight features Elly, a half-elf, half-human squire planning to compete to be a knight…yet she feels like she’ doesn’t fit in’s an outcast. Elly feels like an ugly duckling, like she’s this lumbering, hulking human, next to the daint"
Read more of this review »
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L. Amber
made a comment on
Zach Rosenberg’s review
of
Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
"
Thank you very much! I'm very happy you enjoyed the novel.
...more
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""Who wants a half-elf for a lover?"
Half-elf squire Elly, star of "Song of the Wild Knight: Song of the Squire" is a relatable and well-written heroine in L.J. Amber's debut fantasy novel. Struggling to find her place in the world, Elly's journey from" Read more of this review » |
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“Elly felt Ceistyl's breath roll across her lips, into her mouth, a kiss imminent… and then the fey was away again, once more leading the squire by her suddenly sweating hand. Too late, Elly realised she had forgotten her gloves.
"I've never kissed anyone." "I know. You just told me." Those words made Elly shiver, though she didn't know why.” ...more L. J. Amber |
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“Beauty, she realised as her heart hammered, was not social or subjective. True beauty was catastrophic, irresistible as the rushing tides, crashing over and through all feeble attempts to say what was fair and what was not. Like the woodland vista that made the breath catch and the spirit soar, beauty was an irresistible force of nature, and to try to tell which particular branch – which particular leaf – was most appealing was to miss the forest for the trees.
No single thing she saw in Lady Ceistyl was more beautiful than any other. Nor could the fey be reduced to separate features, complimented on any one part. And even were Elly to try, no words were rich enough, no paint held hues that could capture the colour Lady Ceistyl brought with her as she appeared beside the watching wolf atop the fallen log.” L. J. Amber |
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L. Amber
made a comment on
William Wrangler’s review
of
Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
"
Hello William! Goodness, you're making me blush. Thank you so much for your kind review. I definitely recognise you as one of my patrons, and to think
...more
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“When Elly had first come to the fortress the seneschal had told her she would become lost, reassuring her that there was no shame in having someone point the way. After all, she had informed her, the fortress had been visited by several delegations from human lands, and all of them had been hopeless at navigating its courtyards and balconies. Everyone understood that a half-elf would need additional help; they all expected her to require assistance.
At that moment, Elly had sworn to herself she would never, ever ask for directions.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
At that moment, Elly had sworn to herself she would never, ever ask for directions.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
“Come on stub-ears, you can do better than that!"
Steel danced and shone before Elly as she desperately blocked strike after strike, her attacker toying with her, relentless in aggression both physical and verbal. He was taller than her, lighter than her, and he moved with true elven grace, gliding around her with his elegantly curved and vicious sword. He lashed out with a practised flick of his wrist that she struggled to read and barely caught with her blade, but he was already moving on, his sword flowing around, a killing blow coming straight for her neck if she did not move–
"Sorry stub-ears, I'll try to slow down…"
A feint! He could have ended it there, and yet it wasn't enough; no, he had to humiliate her. Before her cheeks could redden he was on her again, thrusting, striking at her thighs, her shoulders, the sting of the metal slowing her down and throwing her off-balance. Elly focused on protecting what she could, guarding her head and torso, anger building in her, wrestling with her for control of the light sword that was her best defence against–
"Death!" The tip of his blade was under her raised arm, against the gap in her breastplate beside her triceps. And at once he sprang back, swung his nimble weapon in a lazy figure-of-eight, rolled his shoulders less from tension and more to perform his ease, his casualness, the lack of challenge in fighting her. Where the flat of his blade had stung, she throbbed. "Good showing. How about best of three?”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
Steel danced and shone before Elly as she desperately blocked strike after strike, her attacker toying with her, relentless in aggression both physical and verbal. He was taller than her, lighter than her, and he moved with true elven grace, gliding around her with his elegantly curved and vicious sword. He lashed out with a practised flick of his wrist that she struggled to read and barely caught with her blade, but he was already moving on, his sword flowing around, a killing blow coming straight for her neck if she did not move–
"Sorry stub-ears, I'll try to slow down…"
A feint! He could have ended it there, and yet it wasn't enough; no, he had to humiliate her. Before her cheeks could redden he was on her again, thrusting, striking at her thighs, her shoulders, the sting of the metal slowing her down and throwing her off-balance. Elly focused on protecting what she could, guarding her head and torso, anger building in her, wrestling with her for control of the light sword that was her best defence against–
"Death!" The tip of his blade was under her raised arm, against the gap in her breastplate beside her triceps. And at once he sprang back, swung his nimble weapon in a lazy figure-of-eight, rolled his shoulders less from tension and more to perform his ease, his casualness, the lack of challenge in fighting her. Where the flat of his blade had stung, she throbbed. "Good showing. How about best of three?”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
“Beauty, she realised as her heart hammered, was not social or subjective. True beauty was catastrophic, irresistible as the rushing tides, crashing over and through all feeble attempts to say what was fair and what was not. Like the woodland vista that made the breath catch and the spirit soar, beauty was an irresistible force of nature, and to try to tell which particular branch – which particular leaf – was most appealing was to miss the forest for the trees.
No single thing she saw in Lady Ceistyl was more beautiful than any other. Nor could the fey be reduced to separate features, complimented on any one part. And even were Elly to try, no words were rich enough, no paint held hues that could capture the colour Lady Ceistyl brought with her as she appeared beside the watching wolf atop the fallen log.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
No single thing she saw in Lady Ceistyl was more beautiful than any other. Nor could the fey be reduced to separate features, complimented on any one part. And even were Elly to try, no words were rich enough, no paint held hues that could capture the colour Lady Ceistyl brought with her as she appeared beside the watching wolf atop the fallen log.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
“Come on stub-ears, you can do better than that!"
Steel danced and shone before Elly as she desperately blocked strike after strike, her attacker toying with her, relentless in aggression both physical and verbal. He was taller than her, lighter than her, and he moved with true elven grace, gliding around her with his elegantly curved and vicious sword. He lashed out with a practised flick of his wrist that she struggled to read and barely caught with her blade, but he was already moving on, his sword flowing around, a killing blow coming straight for her neck if she did not move–
"Sorry stub-ears, I'll try to slow down…"
A feint! He could have ended it there, and yet it wasn't enough; no, he had to humiliate her. Before her cheeks could redden he was on her again, thrusting, striking at her thighs, her shoulders, the sting of the metal slowing her down and throwing her off-balance. Elly focused on protecting what she could, guarding her head and torso, anger building in her, wrestling with her for control of the light sword that was her best defence against–
"Death!" The tip of his blade was under her raised arm, against the gap in her breastplate beside her triceps. And at once he sprang back, swung his nimble weapon in a lazy figure-of-eight, rolled his shoulders less from tension and more to perform his ease, his casualness, the lack of challenge in fighting her. Where the flat of his blade had stung, she throbbed. "Good showing. How about best of three?”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
Steel danced and shone before Elly as she desperately blocked strike after strike, her attacker toying with her, relentless in aggression both physical and verbal. He was taller than her, lighter than her, and he moved with true elven grace, gliding around her with his elegantly curved and vicious sword. He lashed out with a practised flick of his wrist that she struggled to read and barely caught with her blade, but he was already moving on, his sword flowing around, a killing blow coming straight for her neck if she did not move–
"Sorry stub-ears, I'll try to slow down…"
A feint! He could have ended it there, and yet it wasn't enough; no, he had to humiliate her. Before her cheeks could redden he was on her again, thrusting, striking at her thighs, her shoulders, the sting of the metal slowing her down and throwing her off-balance. Elly focused on protecting what she could, guarding her head and torso, anger building in her, wrestling with her for control of the light sword that was her best defence against–
"Death!" The tip of his blade was under her raised arm, against the gap in her breastplate beside her triceps. And at once he sprang back, swung his nimble weapon in a lazy figure-of-eight, rolled his shoulders less from tension and more to perform his ease, his casualness, the lack of challenge in fighting her. Where the flat of his blade had stung, she throbbed. "Good showing. How about best of three?”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
“When Elly had first come to the fortress the seneschal had told her she would become lost, reassuring her that there was no shame in having someone point the way. After all, she had informed her, the fortress had been visited by several delegations from human lands, and all of them had been hopeless at navigating its courtyards and balconies. Everyone understood that a half-elf would need additional help; they all expected her to require assistance.
At that moment, Elly had sworn to herself she would never, ever ask for directions.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
At that moment, Elly had sworn to herself she would never, ever ask for directions.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
“Beauty, she realised as her heart hammered, was not social or subjective. True beauty was catastrophic, irresistible as the rushing tides, crashing over and through all feeble attempts to say what was fair and what was not. Like the woodland vista that made the breath catch and the spirit soar, beauty was an irresistible force of nature, and to try to tell which particular branch – which particular leaf – was most appealing was to miss the forest for the trees.
No single thing she saw in Lady Ceistyl was more beautiful than any other. Nor could the fey be reduced to separate features, complimented on any one part. And even were Elly to try, no words were rich enough, no paint held hues that could capture the colour Lady Ceistyl brought with her as she appeared beside the watching wolf atop the fallen log.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
No single thing she saw in Lady Ceistyl was more beautiful than any other. Nor could the fey be reduced to separate features, complimented on any one part. And even were Elly to try, no words were rich enough, no paint held hues that could capture the colour Lady Ceistyl brought with her as she appeared beside the watching wolf atop the fallen log.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
“Elly felt Ceistyl's breath roll across her lips, into her mouth, a kiss imminent… and then the fey was away again, once more leading the squire by her suddenly sweating hand. Too late, Elly realised she had forgotten her gloves.
"I've never kissed anyone."
"I know. You just told me."
Those words made Elly shiver, though she didn't know why.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
"I've never kissed anyone."
"I know. You just told me."
Those words made Elly shiver, though she didn't know why.”
― Song of the Wild Knight – Part One: Song of the Squire
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