Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$7.00				$5.95

eBook Category: Horror/Dark Fantasy
eBook Description: The latest release from M. J. Konevich, 2004 EPPIE finalist for The Woods Around Carter's Lake (Best Horror)... Thomas Barclay was just an average student in an average town--or so he thought. When he begins asking questions about an ancient text, some of the townsfolk start to notice. One person in particular doesn't want him to know about this book, and he will go to any lengths to make sure that Thomas doesn't live. As events unfold, Thomas finds himself on the run from the strange, but powerful, Dr. Lawrence Washburne. Thomas flees into an old, abandoned building and suddenly finds himself falling through time and space and into another world--one where his last name carries significant weight. He's in the Mare Outlands, an ancient world slowly dying at the hands of Dr. Washburne. The inhabitants are in need of a leader, and Thomas is the only one they will follow. Can he learn to survive in a different land where the very daylight can kill him? Can he actually find his true heritage and take up the only weapon that can destroy Washburne? It's up to Thomas and his small band of friends to find out. But the clock is ticking, because Washburne has plans that, if successful, will open a gateway between Thomas' world and the Outlands. [Genres: Horror / Dark Fantasy]

eBook Publisher: Amber Quill Press, Published: 2006
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2007

5 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.1 MB], eReader (PDB) [396 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [400 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [351 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [326 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [352 KB], hiebook (KML) [853 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [478 KB], iSilo (PDB) [330 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [409 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [466 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [566 KB]
Words: 124369
Reading time: 355-497 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"M. J. Konevich has the talent for catching the reader's attention with the first sentence and propelling her or him into the story, as if it were the reader's real life and not a fantasy or mystery. The Strange Tale of Thomas Barclay does indeed have elements of both genres, and of horror as well. Thankfully it is the first of a series, and this reviewer is anticipating further entries ... Mr. Konevich has impressed me as a must-read author. He definitely knows how to draw up a setting, and delineate his characters in a way that makes the reader feel as if they're facing them."--Two Lips Reviews

"...A very fascinating book...With this book, M. J. Konevich is, in my opinion, a writer who deserves to be on top with the big ones, his name should be next to Stephen King, or Dean Koontz. The first book from the Through the Portal series is a page-turner that will ask the maximum of your nerves. It is a book that I didn't put beside me, and I just had to finish it. And so will you!! I'm looking forward to reading the sequel."--EuroReviews

An empty moon hung itself in the night sky. It was dull red in color; a "blood moon," is what the townsfolk called it, but for the silent man in the dark cloak, it had no name, at least in this world. In others it had names, and powers as well, but in this world, science had reduced it to a dead, gray rock.

He laughed to himself because he knew no doctor or scientist could explain what he was, or what he could do. Even the best and brightest from his own world couldn't do that. The man pulled back his dark hood, looked up and grinned savagely at the red orb leering down at him. Not even the mindless stars of this world dared to shine on this night; even they were not foolish enough to show themselves.

He lowered his gaze and finished reading the worn parchment he held in his thin hands, then snapped his fingers, immediately igniting the scrap into flames. When only ashes remained, he opened his mouth and swallowed them with a dry smile. Everything was falling into place.

He looked around warily, but saw nothing. The streets of this sleepy Atlantic town were usually dead at this hour, with the exception of a few drunks and an occasional criminal, none of which would be missed if he needed to remove them.

The dark man held up his left hand, and the heavy robe fell back, exposing his index finger. He pointed at a solid stone wall and spoke ancient words. As he did, his fingertip glowed an unnatural green.

"Il rath tuan so. Sardins. Show me the Gate of Night," he hissed.

His finger dragged him forward, closer to the wall, then drew a perfect circle, which also glowed a dull green. On the outside of the circle, an even duller green dot pulsed. He nodded, then waited for the rest of the picture to reveal itself. Slowly, in the middle of the circle, a faint skull appeared for a moment, then vanished.

He spoke again, this time more urgently. "Again. Il rath tuan so nian. Sardins, show me the Gateway home."

The wall shone violently, and on the inside of the circle, a street map of the area appeared. In the center, the skull shone again, this time with intelligent eyes in its sockets. The jaw fell open and spoke in a dead, hollow voice.

"This is the way home."

The circle disappeared, leaving only a strange, burning smell, like that of a lightning strike.

The man smiled, showing his sharp canines to the dead moonlight. He checked his watch and the smile faded. He was going to be cutting it closer than he thought, but at least he knew the location of the gate. The symbols were always the same; the gateway, however, always moved. A skull could mean only one thing--a cemetery.

He threw the hood over his head before walking toward the only graveyard in town. The man muttered to himself, and a heavy mist appeared before him. Without hesitating, he strode into it and disappeared. All that remained was a greasy black liquid, and soon that, too, vanished into the cracks of the cobble-stoned street.

Later that night, the groundskeeper of the Manchester Cemetery reported seeing a flash of green light coming out of one of the headstones. By the time he got there, though, he found nothing but a thick, black fluid oozing everywhere.

The police dismissed the incident, and it never made the papers. Things like that rarely did in Manchester.