Thursday, November 5, 2015

Soul Warrior - Blitz



Falguni Kothari
Soul Warrior
November 5, 2015

Blurb

Fight fate, or succumb to destiny?

In the dark Age of Kali, the Soul Warrior alone stands guard over the Human Realm, protecting its denizens from evil-willed asuras or demons. When a trick of fate appoints him guru to a motley crew of godlings, he agrees to train them as demon hunters against his better judgment. Suddenly, Lord Karna is not only battling the usual asuras with sinister agendas, but also rebellious students and a fault-ridden past.

Spanning the Cosmic realms of mythic India, here is a tale of a band of supernatural warriors who come together over a singular purpose: the salvation of Karna's secret child.

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About the Author

Falguni Kothari is a New York-based hybrid author, and an amateur Latin and Ballroom dance silver medalist with a semi-professional background in Indian Classical dance. She writes in a variety of genres sewn together by the colorful and cultural threads of her South Asian heritage and expat experiences. She's published in India in contemporary fiction with global e-book availability, and will launch her mythic fantasy series, The Age of Kali, in November of 2015. When not writing or dancing or being house-wifey, she fools around on all manner of social media, and loves to connect with readers.
Website
http://www.falgunikothari.com/

Goodreads
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5759964.Falguni_Kothari

Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Falguni-Kothari/e/B00JHSQU64/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1440514112&sr=8-2

Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/falgunikothari.author

Twitter
https://twitter.com/F2tweet


Five Quick Questions

Tell us your latest news?

Well, I am getting ready to launch Soul Warrior, the first book in my new mythic fantasy series, the Age of Kali. The story is sort of like Marvel’s Thor meets the Indian epic, the Mahabharata. I'm super excited to finally share this story with my readers as it stars one of my favourite mythic heroes, Karna, the son of Surya.

If you could have a dinner party with any authors from any time in history, who would you choose and why?

I holidayed in the UK this summer, and toured Shakespeare's Globe and Jane Austen's house in Bath when there. So right now my head is swimming in British authors. Hence, I'd really like to go to dinner with either William or Jane. Why? Well, because I wouldn't mind dressing up in 15th century gowns or the simpler, serviceable gowns that Jane preferred. I really like this trend we have of long summer dresses right now. Plus, I want tea. I’m a tea addict. Earl Grey, to be specific. Poured from a fancy teapot, with scones and tiny cucumber sandwiches as munchies…while wearing the very British hat I brought back from London.

Is there an Author that you would really like to meet?

Ideally, I’d like to meet every single author on this planet, even ones that I don’t read. On a serious note, though, I have three top-favorite authors. I have been fortunate enough to meet two of them already, through the Romance Writers of America. They are Nora Roberts and Diana Gabaldon. The only other author that I really really want to meet is JK Rowling. I think she’s an amazing individual.

Tell us a little about your background. When did you start writing?

I started writing about six odd years ago. I was—am—basically a homemaker. I am—was—quite content puttering around the house and reading lovely books for eternity. It was pure luck that I stumbled into the writing business. Actually, it was my mother who pushed me down the “writer’s rabbit hole.” She said, “Get off your butt and do something with your brain.”
I only half listened to her. I stayed on my butt, and decided to attempt getting my bachelor’s degree. Yup, I am as yet without one. And so, long-story-short, in the middle of 2009 I took a couple of online literature/writing courses to that end. One of them happened to be a class titled "Romance Writing Secrets". I can’t even begin to express how much fun I had taking that class. Besides teaching me the basics about writing a novel, the course instilled in me the discipline to sit down and write every day. I had homework! The good kind of homework too. J It was addictive—writing. And I haven't stopped since.
Now, writing every day was one thing. Also, finishing my novel within a year. Or it was for me. Those parts came easily. They still come easily. The hard part is publishing. Although, my first book…rather my first two books, both contemporary romances, got published pretty easily too in India. It’s Your Move, Wordfreak! by Rupa Publications and Bootie and the Beast by Harlequin, India. It was when I started looking at publishing in the US that I began to experience roadblocks. Ultimately, I hurdled over them and decided to go into business for myself with Soul Warrior.
And that’s my story.


Excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE
PRALAYA: THE CATACLYSM

Asht Dveep, off the coast of Madh Island, North Mumbai.
The present.


“We have visitors, my lord.”

Karna paused perusing the Times of India on his tablet, and cocked a brow at Lavya. Pale and lean, his friend and housemate loomed just inside the door to the den, hands folded in a neat Namaste. Irritated, but not at the interruption, Karna sighed, wondering why he bothered reading the news at all. Daily bulletins had become standard—or substandard, depending on one’s viewpoint. Climate change, economic disasters, terrors and terrorists all held front-page positions, every fugging day.

And what else could one expect in the Age of Kali? It was the age of sin, tsunamis and stock options in this currency-ruled realm. Not that the Gods had ever—not once in his almost eight-thousand-year career as humanity’s soul guardian—asked him to interfere with, subvert or reverse any of the realm’s natural or man-made calamities. His duty required only that he keep the world free of supernatural evil.

Karna stretched, his spine separating from the fiberglass chair like Velcro ripping. He was shirtless to battle the unrelenting October heat and though he’d queued up his sun-bleached, shoulder-length mane, sweat dampened his forehead, nape, armpits and back.

And therein lay the rub, he thought, coming back to the dos and don’ts of his duties. Being “asked” not to meddle in human affairs only made him more determined to help the helpless. At times, he managed to contain the disasters, and all was well in the Cosmos. But sometimes, his actions worsened the fate of the mortals, as well as his own. Like when he’d tried to repair the deficient ozone layer with his god-powers a couple of years ago.

Blasting the stratosphere with a load of solar radiation to augment the emissions from his godsire’s Celestial abode had been a solid, scientifically vetted idea. The extra UV rays he’d discharged from his fingertips had accelerated ozone production, and for a while he’d believed the crisis slowed, if not solved. But the hyper-paced oxygen cycle had also amplified energy output, creating miscreant solar flares, a couple of which had whipped across the Cosmos and breached the lower regions of the Higher Worlds.

Needless to say, the atmospheric fireworks hadn’t amused the Celestials or Heaven’s ruling Council. And as punishment for his hubris, Karna had been saddled with an annoying quirk—his body temperature was now directly proportional to his emotions—specifically, high-voltage anger. And stoicism did not come naturally to him.

“Whoever it is, tell them I’m indisposed,” he said, turning back to the tablet to scan a news report about a recent grisly murder near Hyderabad. He wondered if asuras were involved.

Protecting the Human Realm from the demon race was a fulltime, energy-sucking occupation. He just wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat, heavenly politics or an unasked-for performance report. And from the surging energy levels he sensed wafting out of the living room, one or all three outcomes were assured as his visitors were definitely from the Higher Worlds. The heightened electromagnetic pulse wasn’t the sole indication of uninvited Celestial company—his friend and aide my-lorded him only when heavenly protocol needed to be followed.

“I doubt the excuse will fly with the Patriarchs or the Matriarchs,” said Lavya, coming to stand on the other side of the massive black onyx desk dominating the chamber.

Karna went rigid with shock when he heard who his visitors were. The entire Council gracing the Human Realm all at once was highly unusual. Not just unusual—it spelled cataclysmic.





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