About - J. Harold Williams
‘Adira’, the debut novel of the Mahryn Chronicles, endeavors to explore the tension between good and evil and the difficult, but morally righteous choice, to rebel against autocratic evil for the greater cause of freedom. The high fantasy struggle continues in J Harold’s second follow-up novel, ‘Resurrection’.
Epic Fantasy Author
A gratefully contented husband and proud father of a son and daughter, J Harold Williams lives in Massachusetts where he enjoys daybreak sips of coffee, long walks with his wife and doting on his two gloriously inspiring granddaughters.
Shifting from an earlier career in healthcare, with a bachelor of science degree in nursing and advanced training as a nurse anesthetist, J Harold hung up his stethoscope to pursue a longer venture in the world of business. Achieving a master’s degree in healthcare administration, J Harold eventually served as senior vice president overseeing a division of seven companies, the largest of which he built from the ground up, until eventually retiring to pursue new adventures.
J Harold Williams currently enriches his life with writing and by spending time with friends, family, and his two delightful granddaughters. These enchanting children have infused their Papa’s autumn years with their zestful joy for life and their wondering, inquisitive elation. J Harold hopes that some of this charming inspiration comes through from time to time within the lines of his writing.
World of The Mahryn Chronicles
Isolated by vast mountain ranges to the west, and the great distance between the harsh, dry highlands to the north, and the beautiful, lush lowlands to the south, the nations of the reptilian Squamata, hulking Wasak and water faring Mahryn were tangibly separated by geography. That is until they weren’t!
Land of Mahryn
For millennium upon millennium, the Mahryn had dwelled and prospered in a loving embrace with their natural surroundings. Flourishing from nature’s giving, the community in return solemnly respected and cared for their motherland, nurturing it with a dutiful devotion. Distaining materialistic gluttony, which they judged to be an insatiable poison to the soul, the protective clan gathered only what was needed for subsistence, preferring to live in a balanced oneness with their habitat.
Such was the peaceful and contented world of the Mahryn before the wreckage and unspeakable atrocities inflicted by the conquering Wasak. Once good and fulfilling, their world and the lives they lived descended into a veritable hell.
Land of the Mahryn
Water bubbled musically as it flowed. Cheerfully clattering over and around the shiny stones it had smoothed to a sparkling brilliance from countless years of rushing caresses. Rocks that the water couldn’t easily reach played an impish game, teasing the gushing liquid to spray its soaking foam high into the air, splashing the hardened sediment with its moist sheen at every sharp, colliding turn of the spirited and quickening stream. One of the countless thousands of tributaries that fed the endless lush wetlands and rivulets of the land of the Mahryn, they drew life from the mighty snow-filled Shamal Mountains to the north and Jabal Mountains to the west, swelling and hastening southward to bathe the verdant lowlands with its cherished elixir until finally engorging the mighty Miham River’s icy, fresh vitality as it made its way southward toward the sea.
As the mountain streams dispersed throughout the valleys into countless scattered lakes and ponds, brooks and creeks, the invaluable rich nutrients from these benefactors nourished and sustained the endless fields of flourishing herbaceous plants and sedges as far as the eye could see. Dense beds of low-lying water lilies, papyrus, cattails and water chestnuts played peek-a-boo with the sun, as the strong, towering grasses and reeds swayed to and fro in the gentle moist breeze, first shading, and then lightening the delighted florae, which laughed joyously from the game they played within the boundless, endless fields of the fens. Collectively in their abundance, the broad variety and array of these expressively imaginative plants paraded forth an astonishing palette of colorful vivid hues. Orange, browns, greens and reds painted the landscape. Fuchsia, auburn and scarlet, chartreuse and taupe, sienna and persimmon, the unbounded explosion of color elated the senses with a glorious, wonderful delight. All the while, even as the captivated observer basked in the stunning painted pigments of the land, a cacophony of scents and fragrances engulfed the onlooker in an immersing sensual mist of pungent, sensory pleasure. One could not live in this resplendent land without appreciating its most earnest wonder.
Land of Wasak
Had existence been easier for the Wasak in the years before the rule of the Sultani family, the lifespan for this race would have stretched a hundred years. But life was not easy for those generations past, and few kinfolk of the many clans survived past fifty. Freezing winters, disease, thirst and starvation combined to decimate these ordinary folk who struggled to simply feed, clothe and house themselves and their families.
Woeful and unbearable, the passing of too many infants and vulnerable beloved younger children nearly exceeded the populace’s ability to endure. Kind and compassionate by nature, the Wasak’s character had been beaten down by their unforgiving environment to become more enduringly tolerant of their long suffering than angered to pursue even the smallest bit of improvement. Conceding to the misery of their fate, the Wasak submissively yielded to their harsh life’s suffering in an existence of feeble hopelessness.
Land of the Wasak
Elevated high above the fertile lowlands of the Mahryn to the south, on the dry, cool, rocky hills and plateaus to the north, lay the land of the Wasak. Contained on the east by the Sea of Lahr and to the north and west by the mighty Shamal and Jabal Mountains that cradled and protected the Wasak from the militaristic Squamata nation inhabiting their other sides, the Wasak lived in a circumscribed and sheltered territory. Sparser of vegetation, the shallow soil tolerated only the most hearty of plant life. Conifers dominated the terrain. Pines, firs and spruces, stunted but determined, fought for their foothold, offering drought-resistant needles upwards to the sky to glean whatever energy they could from the lower-lying sun. Tenacious and determined, the evergreens refused to relinquish their color or the purchase their roots had doggedly gained in the ground.
Prevailing accordingly over their colder climate and the slimmest shell of productive soil, a stubborn patchwork of forests arose, managing to blanket large swaths of the highlands with their determined fortitude. Bracing and invigorating, the refreshing smell of pine permeated the air. Underfoot, the ground was quilted with the soft step of pine needles shed yearly over countless ages. Puncturing this quieting duvet, prickly thickets of spiny, leathery leaf shrubs found such expansive grasp on the ground as to compel the rare traveler to widely circumnavigate the undergrowth’s occasionally extensive, impassible propagation. Away from the timberlands, populating the sweeping fields and mesas, a tough array of vigorous plants such as alder, scrub oak and needle grass survived upon the land, proliferating on the uncluttered freedom of the wide open space.
Character Guide
Discover more about The Mahryn Chronicles’ central characters.
Adira
Young and gentle, this innocent Mahryn girl was abused and traumatized her entire life by the large and hulking, powerful Wasak, along with all the beings of her conquered and exploited race. That is until Adira ‘awakens’ and transforms into a ferocious, defiant force. A raging resurrector who rocks the very foundation of her oppressor’s world and leads her nation in its righteous struggle to be free.
Captain Varanus
Clandestinely trading in illicit merchandise, the intimidating and pugnacious ship captain was all business. As long as it was in his interest. Hailing from the Janubii tribe of the perpetually warring reptilian race of the Squamata, Captain Varanus was not to be trifled with. His cold-blooded predatory nature could bring his partners wealth, or should he be crossed, the piercing edge of a sword and his sharp ripping teeth.
Madaris
Known by her notorious and well-earned moniker, “The Witch of Alsijn”, the wicked headmistress of the monastery at Alsijn, abducted, prepared and forced innocent, young Mahryn girls into providing “Domestic Comfort” for Wasak overlords. Frighteningly unnerving, Madaris’ intense penetrating amber eyes emitted embers of burning hatred outward toward her prey, glaring sinisterly from behind coarse gray hair and severe, sharp, angular features.
Sadi
Assuming absolute power in his early thirties, third in line of the once blessed, now infamous Sultani dynasty, Sadi took one key lesson away from the tutelage of his cold-blooded father: be ruthless in pursuit of whatever you want. With no one daring to restrain him following his father’s death, Sadi found complete freedom in the brutal exercise of his unquestioned power and the exploration of his hedonistic pleasures. Sadi felt no shame for this behavior. No disgrace or dishonor. No humiliation. Sadi felt none of these natural emotions, and those who mistakenly thought he did, swiftly learned the truth to their utter despair.
Jari
Virtuous and dependable, wise and judicious, the robust and formidable Jari was the epitome of what his tribe could have ever hoped for in the son of their chieftain. A fierce Cadger warrior who would fight to his death rather than accept submission to Wasak slavery. Captain Jari’s only focus, his only purpose in life, the continued freedom of his clan. That is until fate crossed his path with Adira’s. The close, unwavering bond they formed would shake the world.
Nebulosus
Nebulosus closed his eyes slowly, sighing contently as he contemplated his achievement. Never before had the savage, warring tribes of the reptilian Squamata race been united under one banner. Under one leader. And he had done it. Duping these ravenous predators to unite behind him, their supreme leader, in the name of their God. Riling up their religious fervor to contrive a marauding holy war of slaughter. Flicking his forked tongue in and out, Nebulosus moaned with pleasure as he absorbed the intense stench of death wafting across the vast killing field. What pleasure. What joy. And it was only the beginning.
Reviews
J Harold Williams offers a unique, refreshing take on the fantasy genre. His prose are poetic. His world-building is exquisite. This gut-wrenching novel thrusts you into the dystopian fantasy world of the Mahryn, grabs you by the throat, and doesn't let you go. We follow the unlikely heroine Adira as she battles against the conditions of her own birth. Adira dreams of a better life, but at what cost?
Sarah Jules
—Editor
A well-written story that kept me hooked from the very beginning. The characters draw you in and keep you flipping the pages. I really enjoyed the writing style. I found myself hooked, turning the pages.
Rubie Clark
—NetGalley ARC Reviewer
J Harold William's second novel in the Mahryn Chronicles trilogy is a masterclass in how to write a sequel. We continue to follow Adira as she fights against her oppressors. Williams ramps up the action, the bloodshed, and the stakes. This book will have you glued to the pages, turning as quickly as you can, praying for Adira and her rag-tag found family as they face down their biggest challenge yet.
Sarah Jules
—Indie Author
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Contact: J. Harold Williams
