The ForeSender Chronicles

Read ForeSender Rebirth by Adrian Murphy #EpicFantasy #Fantasy #Military #SciFi

Title Of Book: ForeSender Rebirth
Series: The ForeSender Chronicles Book 2
By: Adrian Murphy
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Sub-Genre: Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Colonization, Dragons & Mythical Creatures, Military Sci-Fi, Space Opera, Sword & Sorcery


A conspiracy’s dark heart. Invaders at the gates. A world edging toward annihilation.

When the portal Galindra helped protect transports her to a deadly desert, she can’t transform into her dragon self and faces ancient formless entities determined to devour her soul. A shocking vision offers fresh evidence about the fate of her missing mom, Rusty. Mere delusion… or the key to undoing her greatest sorrow?

Rusty’s powers are resurfacing. But she doesn’t remember who or what she is. She struggles to shatter the veil of amnesia and reclaim her past, all while evading capture or death.

As invasion looms, Galindra vows to find her mother, confront a killer, save her homeworld, and battle a trio of magic-wielding witches with one purpose in mind. Devastation.

Has she met her match?

ForeSender Rebirth is the second outing in Adrian Murphy’s gripping epic fantasy adventure series, The ForeSender Chronicles. If you enjoy ruthless foes with special abilities, cunning conspiracies, and perseverance despite crushing odds, then this story is for you. Perfect for readers who like a touch of hi-tech with their fantasy.

Pick up your copy and experience the exploits of Galindra, the dragon-shifter intergalactic sleuth, today.


Chapter 1 ~ Mind Mutation

Deep Space

Prince Segmundus allowed himself a small smile as he watched the mind-altering ritual. The powerful process fascinated, awed, and pleased him.

A burly figure, Prince Cael-Rath, sat strapped to a chair in the hold of the longship Waveflyer. Segmundus chuckled, reveling in his captive’s earlier astonishment upon discovering that the vessel was traversing outer space encased in a bubble of magical energy, instead of plying the stormy ocean waves of his homeworld.

The prisoner groaned, his body jerking against the restraining straps. Segmundus knew the ceremony required a skilled mage and could be dangerous for each party involved. There were tales of the rite failing, driving both the subject and the practitioner into insanity. But no such concerns disturbed him in this case.

The mind-mutation procedure was a lengthy one, he recalled. Three mages stood around the captive, chanting in guttural, emotionless tones. Hooded and cloaked, the figures held their arms outstretched, hands and fingers extended, almost touching the nobleman’s ashen face and sweat-drenched brow.

All four were wrapped in a pulsating glow that appeared to have a life of its own. Bands of red, blue, and yellow elemental force swirled and flowed around them.

The air surrounding the foursome trembled. To Segmundus, it seemed the walls of the hold bulged and contracted in concert with the rising and falling of the chant. His teeth vibrated, as if someone had placed a tuning fork against his jaw.

The luminescence faded, and the witches lowered their arms, voices dwindling into silence. Cael-Rath slumped forward, the leather bindings straining to contain his unconscious bulk.

A figure turned toward Segmundus. Diamond-hard eyes glinted from beneath a wide russet hood, and when she spoke it was like the creak of ancient, rusty hinges. “It is finished. Now he is ours.”

Chapter 2 ~ Portal of Doom

Planet Calistra

Galindra’s eyes snapped open. The pale glint of starlight provided scant illumination amid the murk that met her eyes. Even at this late hour, she heard the clink of metal tools from outside as workers repaired Havenwood’s defenses following the troll attack. But it wasn’t the external sounds that woke her.

Her arm throbbed. Yet that was not surprising, she mused. Slasher, the troll mercenary leader, had fired a deadly harpoon that sliced into her wing in her dragon form. She had sent him to a fiery and much deserved death when he later refused to surrender.

No, something else had caused her to struggle from a profound slumber and toss the covers aside, heart thudding in her chest. She sensed a malignant presence, mortal danger lurking nearby.

The honeyed scent of beeswax filled the bedchamber after Galindra lit several candles. She dressed and crossed to a narrow window. All appeared peaceful in the broad square that fronted the Palace of Golden Boughs, in which she had the use of a chamber after yesterday’s battle.

Braziers supplied warmth and patchy light for the soldiers who patrolled the vast area. Her gaze lingered on the hulking shapes of Lieutenant Foyle’s metal wagons—hover-tanks as the strange warriors from Earth called them—then flicked to the distant town gate. She cast her senses wide, her fingers grazing the warm stone at the base of her throat, as she searched for the source of the threat.

A gasp escaped her mouth. The sensation came from within the palace itself, not from beyond. “The portal!” She strode to the door and flung it open, the protective spells she had placed on the room fading away as she left.

Torches flickered in wall sconces as she made her way along hushed corridors, nodding to the occasional member of the garrison. Although it was night, Galindra thought of rousing Barok and Paulus, but decided against it should the intimation of menace prove false.

She paused at the top of the carpeted staircase, closed her eyes for a moment, and strengthened the healing energy coursing through her body. As a dragon alt-form, her abilities enabled her to heal faster than non-magical beings. Despite this, she knew she needed more time to rest and recover, but could not ignore the pressing sense of danger. After a deep, calming breath, she hurried down the steps.

As she approached the portal chamber, she hesitated. The entrance was unguarded. Where were the sentries, who should be present at all hours?

Galindra narrowed her eyes, one hand resting on the tiny foresense gem embedded in her skin. The suggestion of peril was more pronounced here, potent enough to send a shiver up her back and across the crown of her head. She summoned her dragon staff, the flames flowing around her hands without burning them, and eased past the open doorway, senses alert.

The vaulted, high-ceilinged room which met her eyes was silent, empty. Oil lamps set at intervals along the walls generated spasmodic light. Several desks and cabinets stood to one side. By royal decree, an ever-present clerk was to record the name and other details of each portal traveler. None was visible now.

Booted heels clicking on the marble tiles, Galindra advanced toward the center of the space and halted. The gateway was rectangular, about the width of two doors, and reached almost to the ceiling. Its edges sparkled in a swirling multi-colored whirl.

Like all portals, this one existed as a semi-transparent shimmer, lacking physical substance, the far walls of the chamber seen as if viewed through a thick, clouded pane of glass. She recalled that fixed gateways drew power from the all-pervasive elemental energy and manifested in various shapes and sizes. No one knew why.

Galindra let her senses roam the room, but the impression was vague, indistinct, as if her abilities were being dampened, like a wet towel draped over her head. Thus her eyes, not her foresense, detected the first sign that all was not well. A series of dark, viscous blotches stained the otherwise resplendent floor tiles near the portal.

She bent her head for a closer look and sucked in her breath. Blood. Her gaze snapped to the large desk near the far wall. An object glinted in the fitful torchlight. The flames from the dragon staff revealed a shoe buckle on the floor, a torn piece of leather attached at one end.

A sensation of movement caused her to glance sideways as a figure appeared at the entrance. Galindra had a glimpse of fair hair peeking from beneath a wide hood adorning a blue cloak. Her eyes widened as she recognized the tattooed warrior from the attack at the fountain near Castle Grayrock.

The newcomer’s smile was lop-sided, menacing. She brought her hands together, the sharp slap fracturing the hollow silence. Both doors thudded shut, sealing Galindra inside even as she stepped toward her adversary. The portal activated without warning. A raucous gale sprang up, snatching at her clothing as it snuffed out the lamps and her dragon staff.

Books, sheaves of paper, and an ornate chair flew past, vanishing into the coruscating maw. A relentless force dragged her across the smooth tiles. Even the bulky wooden desk shook and shifted, its heavy legs scoring the polished surface.

Galindra was almost bent double, twisting around so that her back faced the surging gateway. She sank to her knees and flung her arms out, trying to wedge the fingers of both hands into a seam between the marble flagstones. It was no use. She had never seen a portal behave like this, and suspected the mysterious, blue-garbed mage was the cause.

Now she was at the edge of the maelstrom, struggling to break the invisible current’s iron grip, and felt her body crossing the threshold. A hostile thought, along with a cold image, insinuated itself into her mind. Before portaling, the traveler had to picture the destination in their head—if skilled in the practice of elemental energy—or seek the help of a guide. Each fixed portal was configured to only open to somewhere within the Continuum of Worlds.

“Amanthrea, home!” she forced from between clenched lips, picturing the gateway chamber in the capital cavern of her native land. But another instruction had superimposed itself on the portal, and she sensed the source: the blue-tattooed warrior. Her opponent was trying to send her to a different location, one not of Galindra’s choosing.

Colder than the blackest night, her body shivered in bone-penetrating chill. She was tossed onto a jagged rocky surface. Stars, too many to count, glittered overhead. She was on an airless hunk of rock—in the immense vacuum of space—instead of Amanthrea or elsewhere in the Continuum.

Lungs heaving, Galindra felt a faint breeze caress her back. She saw several shapes on the rough ground a few paces in front of her. Corpses, three of them, two dressed in armor. The missing guards and clerk. Somehow, the cloaked assailant had compelled the portal to send these unfortunates to a lonely demise. Galindra hoped they were already dead before finding themselves on this floating tomb.

She resolved not to join them. By reflex, her hand had touched the foresense gem at the base of her throat just before the aberrant portal pulled her in. The action saved her life, encasing her in a temporary bubble of energy and air, one that was now fast dissipating.

Galindra sensed the gateway was still active—and she was just within its radius—as if the underlying magic was responding to her desperate efforts to resist being abandoned to her doom.

She forced herself to her feet, turned, and stretched out a hand toward the portal. Its edges were flickering, unstable. It wouldn’t be long before it closed.

Unlike her uncle, Arch Mage Mirchelius, she did not have the power to manifest a magical gateway of her own. She focused her senses and realized that the hostile instruction was fading along with the connection. Breath rattling in her chest, she staggered forward and sent a final thought, the only one she could manage: Amanthrea!

Moments later, the portal flashed out of existence, leaving three forlorn bodies lying forgotten on the desolate asteroid.

What People Are Saying:

5 Stars – “Adrian Murphy has once again created a dazzlingly complex mash-up of science fiction and epic fantasy in crisp, precise prose with a military edge that could draw blood.”

5 Stars – “Interesting blend of Fantasy and Sci-fi.”

5 Stars – “Non-stop action across several worlds leaves the reader breathless.”

5 Stars – “Surprisingly thought-provoking for an action-packed fantasy/sci-fi/mystery. Very well done!”

5 Stars – “Definitely a Page-Turner.”

Where to buy ForeSender Rebirth (The ForeSender Chronicles Book 2)

Meet Adrian Murphy:

ADRIAN writes clean (no sex or heavy swearing) fantasy and sci-fi action adventure.

He traces his love of storytelling to growing up in Ireland, where castles and history abound. He once lived in a town near Dublin with a tall stone tower built by monks in the 8th century as a refuge from marauding Vikings. Today he makes his home close to the beautiful shores of Lake Huron, Southwestern Ontario, Canada, along with his adorable cat, Mr. G.

Favorite authors include Lindsay Buroker, Brandon Sanderson, Tolkien, Heinlein, and Terry Pratchett. Their influences—and many others from fantasy, sci-fi, and mystery—inspire his stories.

Let’s Get Social

Amazon Author Page:

Deception: Wahrheit Book 3 on Kickstarter

The Book

WAHRHEIT is a huge, sprawling epic fantasy that features political intrigue, assassinations, mystery, adventure, battles, a little bit of fun, and yes, even dragons. It’s my take on those incredible stories that captured my imagination and took me on a ride I’d never forget. It’s packed full of colorful characters that fans love, faced with incredible adversity that they fight to overcome, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. I hope this series goes down as one you remember forever.

The Truth is a weak thing. It has no power. The only power the Truth holds is the power we grant it.

For six hundred years, the kingdom of Wahrheit was ruled by an unbroken line. It rose on a wave of technology and magic and stood alone—a bastion of stability built on pillars of economic and military might. The nation and her people thrived due to the strength of soldiers and the protection of dragons.

But the line has ended—the king is dead.

Noble houses vie to carve out their own domains. Foreign armies march across Wahrheit’s soil for the first time in memory. Without leadership, the king’s army watches helplessly. The fae, a source of enchantment and treachery, work unseen to secure their share of Wahrheit’s blood. And far beyond the kingdom’s borders, a growing threat looms—an empire built to right a bitter wrong.

Only a small band of conspirators stand between the kingdom and chaos: Otto Tilly, captain of the king’s Dragon Knights, the steel fist that shields the weak. Gerhard Fisher, a spy and assassin, who owes more than his life to the former king. Ilse Brinke, the quartermaster, the keeper of the kingdom’s secrets and magic. The wizard, an ancient soul who understands the cost of failure. And by fortune’s curse or fortune’s favor, two orphans from the growing war must carry the kingdom forward. As has always been, the burden of the future lies across the shoulders of the young.

Support Deception: Wahrheit Book 3 on Kickstarter

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Foresender Fury

Read ForeSender Fury by Adrian Murphy #EpicFantasy #Fantasy #Military #SciFi

Title Of Book: ForeSender Fury
Series: The ForeSender Chronicles Book 1
By: Adrian Murphy
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Sub-Genre: Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Colonization, Dragons & Mythical Creatures, Military Sci-Fi, Space Opera, Sword & Sorcery


A dragon-shifter sleuth with a mystery to solve. Sinister forces bent on her destruction. Can she crack the case and prevent wholesale carnage?

Galindra mourns her mother’s mysterious disappearance and yearns to discover the truth. She’s an interstellar investigator with special powers, tasked with probing into a nobleman’s baffling abduction and a savage murder.

Sparks fly when she encounters hostile newcomers from an unknown planet called Earth wielding advanced weapons. She resolves to unravel their true purpose, rescue the prince, and keep thousands of innocents from being massacred.

But her biggest challenge is to stay one step ahead of a homicidal witch who’s out for blood. Hers.

ForeSender Fury is the first book in an action-packed epic fantasy adventure series, The ForeSender Chronicles. If you like a strong female main character, shadowy enemies with hidden agendas, and barbarous creatures wreaking widespread mayhem, then this story is for you. Perfect for readers who enjoy a touch of hi-tech with their fantasy.

Author Adrian Murphy invites you to grab your copy and join Galindra’s quest to locate her missing mom and save the galaxy today.


Chapter 1 ~ Abduction

Planet Calistra

Prince Cael-Rath sighed with pleasure as he luxuriated in the warm, scented water enfolding his ample bulk. He eased deeper into the tall wooden tub, a goblet of mulled wine cradled in one hand.

It had been another tiresome day of hearing endless petitions on behalf of his royal master and older brother, King Milesta. The prince reminded himself that, as governor of North Birthon, his duties included adjudicating the pleas of the populace, powerful and poor alike. He found most were petty, self-motivated entreaties for favor of one kind or another, often to the detriment of a despised neighbor or a much-resented relative.

Cael-Rath took a generous swallow of wine and allowed the water to relieve the cares of office. A smile creased his face as he thought of how nightfall had more than made up for the day’s tedium.

After he dismissed the final petitioners, his favorite courtesan, Marta, had been waiting in his private rooms with a buffet of tasty delicacies—all intended to gratify his carnal and culinary desires. Sultry and full-bosomed, Marta had proven to be most adventurous this evening, willing and able to satisfy every sexual whim.

Once their lovemaking had ended, he had expressed his undying admiration and appreciation for her many charms and left her dozing on the wide bed.

As he settled back in the steaming tub, he drowsed and let his mind drift, delighting in the calming serenity of the candle-lit chamber. He felt relaxed, safe, knowing that his inner sanctum was secure behind barred windows and sturdy bolted doors. Armed guards patrolled the hallways, ensuring that his person and privacy were protected.

Cael-Rath was not sure how much time had elapsed, but the bathwater had cooled, waking him from his happy slumber. He toweled dry, and slipping into a comfortable robe, padded back down the corridor to his bedchamber.

The fire had burned lower, as had some candles, and the room was now darker than when he had left to take his bath. Shadows massed around the edges of the spacious chamber.

He picked up a plate from the sideboard and began to help himself to a late-night snack. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a shapely leg draped over the side of the bed.

Cael-Rath frowned, turning his head. “Marta, my dear, are you still awake? And what is that appalling stench? It reminds me of…”

Memories rose unbidden to his mind. The confusion of siege and battle, blood-spattered warriors and horses shrieking in agony, houses robed in flames—and above all, the cloying reek of singed flesh. Roasted human flesh.

That’s what he smelled now.

He looked toward the capacious bed and gagged, staring wide-eyed at the gaping hole that marred the beauty of his mistress’s face. Her sightless eyes seemed to glare in mute protest at her unexpected and violent death.

The plate fell from his hand, food tumbling unheeded onto the rug. He stepped closer to the bell pull hanging by the chamber door, intending to summon his guards.

Cael-Rath gasped, the breath quickening in his chest, as a figure emerged from the shadows in the far corner.

The newcomer wore a smooth, rounded helmet with a black mirror-like visor and held a pointed object that resembled a personal crossbow.

A second intruder, hooded and cloaked, stood behind the first, its face hidden in darkness. As the prince lunged for the bell pull, light flashed, and a searing pain erupted between his shoulders.

Then all sensation fled his body, and he toppled to the floor.


The lead rider pushed her hood back and prepared for the mind-trance. Her gaze took in the raven soaring high above the leaf-bare branches. Sleek coal-black plumage silhouetted the bird against the pale cloudless sky.

With dark, purple-flecked eyes narrowed, the rider focused on the circling shape. She raised a hand from where it rested on the pommel of her saddle, and the five mounted warriors following behind slowed. Their horses walked the snow-deepened track as the figure cast her senses upward.

She stiffened, head tilted back, and her vision shifted as her mind entered that of the bird. It seemed unaware of the interloper whose thoughts insinuated themselves throughout its being.

The woman recalled that the mind-trance was a technique she had learned from her mother. For a moment, she pictured a smiling face, full lips framed by lustrous crimson hair, and remembered a lilting laugh. Mother! If only I could see you one more time. What happened to you?

She forced her awareness back to the raven. The creature, obeying the urge it now felt, flexed its broad wings, banking to gain altitude.

From a great height, the dark-haired rider could now see what the bird saw: the tips of the snow-mantled trees far below, where the trail left the encircling woods and crossed open ground ahead.

As the raven flew higher still, the woman gazed through its eyes toward the distant horizon. Her mouth tightened as she glimpsed smoke drifting in ponderous clumps above an expansive forest, away to the north.

Eyes and ears straining, she detected faint screams, a bare whisper on the breeze, as if half heard in a dream. But these outpourings of agony and fear were all too real.

She urged the creature to glide lower, following the track as it plunged beneath more woodland, the trees massing outward and onward on all sides like silent, watchful sentinels. Instinct, heightened by her connection with the raven, caused the figure to stare at the line of trees with the aid of the bird’s sharp eyes.

Silence stretched for a few more heartbeats.

The woman smiled her thanks at the bird as she released the mind-link. She turned to her companions, gesturing for them to halt their mounts. As they did, the riders’ breath mingled with that of the horses to form floating streams of vapor in the crisp, biting air.

“We are not alone.”

She spoke in a calm, resonant voice. “The trail crosses open grassland and then enters another section of forest. I sense about a dozen armed warriors hiding in the undergrowth on the far side of the clearing.”

“Outlaws lying in wait for passing travelers, or a deliberate ambush set for us, I wonder?” The speaker lifted dark gray eyes and glanced ahead to where the track left the shelter of the woods.

“I do not know, Salith, but I suspect their purpose is not friendly.”

“Then let us prepare to meet them, sister-mine.” Salith pushed back his broad hood, revealing long, silver-veined dark hair. “Some exercise to warm my chilled bones would be most welcome.”

The leader turned her head to look at the others. Each wore black from head to toe, heavy cloaks wrapped around them. All but her wore swords at their hips, while bows with arrow-packed quivers lay strapped to their saddles.

“That’s not all. I saw smoke and heard screams in the air from the direction we came. Something is wrong back in Havenwood. The town may be in danger.”

One rider gasped and urged his horse forward.

“Patience, Barok,” said the woman, raising her hand. “I understand your concern for the safety of your birthplace and kin, but we must first deal with the threat in front of us.”

Barok bowed his head and quieted his mount. “As you wish, Galindra. But if Havenwood is under attack, then the portal itself may be at risk.”

Galindra brushed a hair from her brow and glanced at her brother. She said nothing aloud, but Salith felt her words resound in his mind.

I do not believe it is a coincidence that these warriors are waiting for us. We left Havenwood at dawn two days ago, after portaling from Centristra only the night before. Few knew of the mission from our uncle, Arch Mage Mirchelius, to journey to Castle Grayrock. Someone may not want us to investigate the abduction of Prince Cael-Rath. We may have been betrayed.

Salith’s expression was grim as he looked into his sister’s impassive eyes. Then let us deal with this obstruction on our path, and if we can, take one alive to discover what he or she may tell us about the prince’s whereabouts. His reply slipped unobstructed between Galindra’s own thoughts.

The rest of the company watched the unspoken exchange, aware that the turn of events troubled the two siblings.

Galindra gazed across the open grassland toward the distant tree cover as she nudged her horse forward and wondered what the coming encounter would bring.

What People Are Saying:

5 Stars – “Elegantly written in clean, precise prose, this novel offers thrills for readers of all ages while serving as the opening chapter of a longer saga to come.”

5 Stars – “This book is an intriguing mix of genres—part sci-fi, part fantasy, part mystery, and all exciting.”

5 Stars – “Murphy has blown his debut novel out of the park.”

5 Stars – “I truly enjoyed this book and all the action. I highly recommend you read this one!!”

5 Stars – “From the very start I was swept away into the medieval fantasy and seamlessly transitioned into the sci-fi world where the two worlds/populations collide.”

Where to buy ForeSender Fury (The ForeSender Chronicles Book 1)

Meet Adrian Murphy:

ADRIAN writes clean (no sex or heavy swearing) fantasy and sci-fi action adventure.

He traces his love of storytelling to growing up in Ireland, where castles and history abound. He once lived in a town near Dublin with a tall stone tower built by monks in the 8th century as a refuge from marauding Vikings. Today he makes his home close to the beautiful shores of Lake Huron, Southwestern Ontario, Canada, along with his adorable cat, Mr. G.

Favorite authors include Lindsay Buroker, Brandon Sanderson, Tolkien, Heinlein, and Terry Pratchett. Their influences—and many others from fantasy, sci-fi, and mystery—inspire his stories.

Let’s Get Social

Amazon Author Page:

A Threat of Shadows: Signed Deluxe Edition Hardcover on Kickstarter

Alaric betrayed everything he believed to save his wife — and failed.

The Book

His last chance to save the woman he loves lies in an ancient Wellstone, a repository of power, buried and lost long ago.

Luck—or something more troubling—leads him to a small group searching for the same stone.

  • a disgruntled dwarf,
  • a bumbling wizard,
  • and an elf with an unsettling amount of power.

If he can gain their trust, they might help him find the cure.

But the Wellstone holds more than he knows, and an old, terrible evil is stirring again, searching for the stone.

Can Alaric and his ragtag crew survive a traitor, a dragon, and the ghosts of their own pasts to find the stone before time runs out?

Support A Threat of Shadows on Kickstarter

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