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Demons of DunDegore

A Sword of Kassandra Book

by M Joseph Murphy

Demons of DunDegore - M Joseph Murphy - Sword of Kassandra
Part of the Sword of Kassandra series:
Pages: 246

The Demons of DunDegore is a full-on zombie invasion within a classic epic fantasy setting. Demons have stolen the Sword of Kassandra, using its powerful magics to raise an army of the undead. Few survive the initial assault. Tadgh Dooley, a 17 year old werecat, travels to the island of DunDegore with his companions to rescue an 8 year old boy, the son of his best friend. But the forces of darkness have plans for Tadgh: capture him and force him to use his reality-altering abilities to free the dark god they worship from his extra-dimensional prison. This is the second book in the series that acclaimed author Christoph Fischer has called “an accomplished piece of fantasy.”

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As they ate, Tadgh glanced around the room. For the first time, he noticed that Samar, the carriage driver, sat at table in a dimly-lit corner, drinking alone. He still wore his travel clothes: unbleached woven flax pants and a tunic tied loosely down the front with brown string. Tadgh saw just a hint of Samar’s lightly-haired chest. His shoulder-length blond hair looked clean, the curls freshly brushed. Samar’s thin, red lips curled up in a wry smile, like he was laughing at a private joke.

Tadgh felt sorry for him. Samar had spent his entire day alone atop the carriage. Now, he would spend the entire evening alone. For a moment, he thought of going to say hello. He quickly pushed the thought from his mind.


As they ate, Tamara spoke about her meeting with the city officials. She gave updates on political situations and rumblings from the royal families. Tadgh found the subject matter dreadfully boring but both Bethal and Menphis hung on her every word. From their facial expressions, Tadgh gathered they found the news troubling.

When Menphis started asking details questions about the breakdown of a marriage in South Point, Tadgh decided he needed another drink. Seeing no server around, he excused himself and went to the bar.

As the bartended poured him another pint of ember stout, Tadgh looked around for Samar. He nearly jumped when he saw the driver was standing right behind him.

Tadgh clutched his chest. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”

Samar stepped closer to Tadgh, a strange look in his eyes.

Tadgh shivered and took an involuntary step back.

Seeming to realize the effect he had on Tadgh, Samar smiled and bowed his head.

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to stare. It is just . . .you are exceptionally beautiful.”

That was the last thing Tadgh had expected the man to say.

“Um, what?”

“I think you and I have something in common.” Samar wet his lips, his eyes languidily traveling down Tadgh’s chest. “Or perhaps I’ve misread you.”

Tadgh looked around to see if anyone else could hear their conversation.

Samar laughed softly, a throaty sound like a purr. As he spoke, Tadgh caught hints of an accent he didn’t recognize.

“Ah. A bashful one. No need. You’ve seen what happens in the streets of Shirza. This is a good place for people like you and me.”

“You’re really gay?” Tadgh wanted to sit down but Samar was too close. He couldn’t move without touching the other man. “Sorry. I know it’s weird to just come out and ask like that but . . .I haven’t known many gay people.”

Samar reached over and put a hand on Tadgh’s side. Through the fabric of his shirt, Tadgh felt the heat of large, calloused fingers.

Blushing, he pushed Samar’s hand away. Tadgh stepped around Samar putting some distance between then. He looked back at the table. No one had noticed. They were all still entranced by whatever Tamara was saying.

The bartender placed Tadgh’s ember stout on the bar then tactfully retreated.

“Jumpy.” Samar picked up the stout Tadgh had ordered and took a drink. “Or perhaps I am not your type.”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean . . .” Tadgh took a deep breath. “Sure, you’re all rugged and sexy with the big muscles and those dreamy eyes. And maybe blond hair is my kryptonite but. . . It’s just . . .my love life has been a tad complicated lately. I’m not really interested in romance.”

“Well, it wasn’t romance I was interested in.” Samar put his hand on Tadgh’s waist. “I had something else in mind.”

Tadgh stumbled backwards, tripped over the legs of a chair, and fell.

Samar’s eyes went wide. He offered Tadgh a hand to help him up. Tadgh, embarrassed, took the hand and got back to his feet. Without another word, he walked briskly back to the table.


About the Author

Joseph Murphy was born and raised in Ontario, Canada. He earned his geekdom at an early age. He read X-Men comics from the age of 8 and it only went downhill from there.

As a teenager he wrote short stories and wanted to be the next Stephen King. Instead of horror, however, he kept writing fantasy stories. After surviving high school as a goth with a purple mohawk, he studied English and Creative Writing at the University of Windsor.

He lives in Windsor, ON (right across the stream from Detroit, Michigan) with his husband, an elderly cat, and a shy-but-friendly ghost.