Attack of the Valkyrie
About the Book
After spending years researching the myth of the Immortal, grad student Abigail believes she’s finally found what she’s looking for: proof that he really exists. Her suspicions seem to be confirmed when the university refuses to accept her thesis and two thugs destroy all her painstaking research. Unable to let her theory go, Abigail hits the road to find out for herself, and, unaware that she is being followed by those who want the Immortal destroyed, she leads them right to him. But the Immortal she finds is more in danger from his own past than the humans who hunt him, and when she challenges him to step up and be the hero described in the history books, they embark on a journey neither is prepared for.
About the Campaign
Iguana Books is excited to collaborate with Matthew Drake in publishing Attack of the Valkyrie. Iguana Books is a hybrid publisher based out of Toronto, ON, dedicated to producing high-quality books by working closely with its authors. Its digital and print books are sold worldwide in online books stores. If the campaign is successful, funds will be used to cover production and distribution costs, including the following:
- Editing and proofreading
- Cover design (Matthew lacks the skills to draw anything other than stick figures)
- Layout and eBook conversion
- Distribution to online book stores around the world
Please consider donating and help spread the word about Attack of the Valkyrie. Thank you for your support!
Abigail slowly and with great effort forced her eyelids upwards. The ceiling above her was made up of rough wooden planks. A light poked at her eyes from the right. Whatever she was laying on was firm but comfortable. She could hear meat sizzling in a pan nearby. It took a minute for her to remember where and why she was there. It all came back in a flash and she bolted upright.
“Take it easy,” the man called from the small kitchen, the next room over.
Abigail tried to stand, but ended up back on the couch.
“Have some bacon,” the man offered. “You need some protein.”
Abigail looked at it dubiously.
“It is real bacon, not squirrel or some other critter if you are worrying about that,” the man said with a little laugh.
Abigail munched on a couple of pieces and chugged at the glass of water that was in his other hand.
“Easy,” he said. “Now what possessed you so badly that you had to try and escape those guys just to see me?”
“You are the Immortal aren’t you?” Abigail asked as she started her second piece of bacon.
“The what?” the man asked.
“You know, the Immortal,” Abigail continued. “You came here around 2000 BC. You have travelled all over the world helping people. You have shown up in stories all across the globe. My friend and I tracked you down. Well he really isn’t my friend.”
“Ah, you mean all that stuff on your USB stick?” the man asked.
“You read it?” Abigail asked. She was impressed. She was sure she hadn’t been passed out for that long.
“You gave me six hours,” the man began, “I needed to occupy myself somehow.”
“I spent the last fifteen years researching you,” Abigail said emphatically. “It’s cost me my academic career and now I find out that my life may be in jeopardy as well. Are you who I have been looking for or not?”
“I am,” the man said quietly. Abigail reached out to hug him, but he wormed away. “But I am not who you think I am.”
“I knew you existed!” Abigail proclaimed. She jumped up and spun around in excitement. She clutched her head in dizziness and sat back down on the couch. “Where do I even begin? I have so many questions!”
“I don’t think you will like the answers,” the man said. He left the plate of bacon and went outside.
Abigail sat in silence. She heard the sound of tinkering in a shed out behind the house. She was curious as to what she had said that was so wrong. She sipped some more water and gingerly got up. Her body was beginning to sort itself out.
The log cabin was small, but nicely furnished. Her mother would have found it too masculine. Everything seemed to be made out of wood. A few pictures adorned the otherwise bare walls. The kitchen had a regular stove and fridge. The lights were all electric. Abigail noticed a picture of a woman on a small table on the far side of the living room. She was extremely beautiful.
Abigail exited the door and looked around. Her rental car was parked in the driveway. A Ford Ranger pickup truck was parked beside it. The yard was arid like most of the surrounding landscape. Grass grew in random places. The woods stretched out in nearly all directions. Logs were stacked neatly beside the house. Beside it, a chopping block sat with an axe lodged in it. She could hear a song being softly sung from the shed. She inched up to the open door and poked her head inside. The man was standing over an opened DVD player. He was loosening a screw.
“What is that you are singing?” Abigail asked kindly. She stood with her hands folded in front of her.
“A lullaby from Nepal,” the man replied. “It is comforting.”
“I am Abigail,” she stated. “And what is your real name?”
“That is something that has not been spoken in a long time,” he replied looking off into the distance. Sorrow seemed to well up in his eyes. “It struck fear into the hearts of many.”
“There is no fear here,” Abigail said. She kept her tone soft.
He looked into her eyes and saw innocence. She was truly unafraid and truly interested in knowing who he was. It was a strange and vulnerable feeling.
“I am Torvic,” he replied. He expected her to scream and run.
“That is a very good name.” Abigail smiled.