TGS Authors Wm. Michael Mott Pulsifer Saga: Omnibus Edition

Pulsifer Saga: Omnibus Edition

Pulsifer Saga: Omnibus Edition
Catalog # SKU2776
Publisher TGS Publishing
Weight 2.00 lbs
Author Name Wm. Michael Mott
 
$24.95
Quantity

Description

The Pulsifer Saga:
Omnibus Edition


TWO NOVELS IN ONE VOLUME!

PULSIFER: A FABLE
&
LAND OF ICE: A VELVET KNIFE


by
Wm. Michael Mott



The PULSIFER SAGA OMNIBUS EDITION is comprised of two complete fantasy novels, illustrated by the author and unlike anything else out there today!

In the first novel, PULSIFER: A FABLE, we meet fantasy fiction's new and outrageous hero---or anti-hero. He's not politically correct, overly heroic, or even overly endearing...but he is uproariously entertaining. Meet Calim Pulsifer-thief, rogue, womanizer, and confidence man-and, in spite of having earned the enmity of wizards, warriors, and women, always his own worst enemy.

Extricating himself from one outrageous misadventure after another in his quest for vengeance and survival, the outcast Calim Pulsifer leaves a trail of mayhem and mirth across and beneath a frozen, monster-haunted world. Political correctness goes out the window as the ultimate trickster and adventurer takes the stage. Fantasy-fiction readers and role-playing fans alike will find these novels provide a thrilling, belly-laughing reading experience. This first novel in a new series will leave the reader gasping with laughter and asking for more!

In the second novel, LAND OF ICE, A VELVET KNIFE, Calim Pulsifer, the ultimate rogue and adventurer, is back with a vengeance--primarily fleeing vengeance, seeking vengeance, and repeatedly bungling, bamboozling, and bluffing his way from one outrageous situation to another.

As in the first novel, Pulsifer: A Fable, in spite of having earned the enmity of wizards, warriors, and women, Pulsifer is once again his own worst enemy. Fighting, scrabbling, and conniving in his quest for vengeance and survival, the outcast Calim Pulsifer leaves a trail of mayhem and mirth across and beneath a frozen, monster-haunted world, delving into the bizarre depths of a subterranean realm like no other. Adversaries and lovers, unhuman and sorcerous creations of an ancient wizardry, and innocent bystanders alike--all are touched by the wake he leaves, and only the force known as Equilibrium knows how things will finally balance out, for even multiple hells hath no fury like several women scorned....

Once more, political correctness goes out the window, as the ultimate trickster and adventurer takes the stage. Fantasy-fiction readers and role-playing fans alike will find these novels provide a thrilling, belly-laughing reading experience.

Readers of Wm. Michael Mott's pulp fiction and Fortean/paranormal research works will find many familiar themes here, interwoven with a humor which is at times sophisticated and at other times ribald and slapstick. Fans of Jack Vance, Fritz Leiber, and George Macdonald Fraser--maybe even of John Kennedy Toole!--will enjoy these non-stop humorous adventure novels.

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STORY EXCERPTS

Excerpt Pulsifer: A Fable:

The Hospitality of the Hermit

The sky was a low grey ceiling stretched above the frozen earth-the moon, a blue orb striped with sickly white, was setting in the west. Dawn would soon arrive, but the horribly frigid temperature would scarcely be abated even by the arrival of the sun, for this was the continent called Teumdoth, the land of the Final Winter. The nations of this frozen place welcomed each waking day's chill, for the shivers of the morning meant that their peoples lived yet, rather than having turned to lifeless icons of ice while they slept.

The man, heavily bundled in quilted traveler's clothes, stumbled to a halt at the slick crest of a frost-encrusted hill. He balanced against the treacherous iciness with the sureness of long practice-his kabeyui, a protective, head-enclosing mask and hood, exuded the steam of his exertions from mouth-slit and nostril-holes. The mask was caked with a beard of frozen breath-vapor.

He glanced back in the direction from which he'd come with an unmistakable attitude of fear, for he was being hunted, and had been for hours. For the thousandth time he wished in vain that he had a swift and sure-footed icepony beneath him. With thick-gloved hands, he rubbed his burning, agonized legs for several seconds.

These were the northern marches of Kalsurridin, a land on the boundaries of civilization-to the north were the Columns of Kegresh, protective barrier against the unhuman hordes and terrors of the outlands, and named for the ancient archimage who had erected them. Beyond those pillars were the Hills of Matascori, the last lands of humanity in the northwest of Teumdoth-but there were many hazards to the south of the columns, as the winded runner could attest.

His name was Calim Pulsifer, but to most who actually knew or had heard of him he was known as simply Pulsifer-and also as thief, scoundrel, villain, and similar epithets. At one point in his history he had been called the Velvet Knife by those who admired both his roguishness, and his stylish taste for fine clothing. A thief by nature and occupation, he hailed from the domed twin cities of Imonber and Oriaber, some fifteen-hundred miles to the east in the land of Phontyque, a nation foremost both in cultural development and in the jaded apathies of its citizens. Unfortunately for his career as well as his fashionable pursuits, three years earlier he'd been compelled by virulent enemies to quit those localities in a most humiliating and memorable fashion, in order to save his neck. Now, as often occurred, he was attempting to do so yet again.

He'd taken a caravan from the city of Mysurl, bound for trading-points north of the great lake Syragen, having signed on as a guard of the harem of a wealthy merchant. His chestnut locks, curled moustaches, and narrowfaced good looks had delighted his wards, but not their husband. Pulsifer was given a choice-emasculation, followed eventually by decapitation, or he could part ways with the train of his erstwhile employer in the barren hills, at twilight. Either choice seemed a death sentence, but he had chosen the less immediately painful of the two. He had been afoot only a few minutes when, rounding a boulder, he came more or less face-to-face with three of the fierce denizens of the wastelands, the darklings called snow-devils by the humans they preyed upon-freshly emerged from their burrows for the evening's hunt.

The tall, spindly creatures had snorted in delight, an action preliminary to their habitual cackling-while they'd chortled, he'd turned and fled. He'd led them a long and determined chase through the lengthy, frozen night-but now he could not run much farther. Snow-devils were not swift, but they were untiring. Pulsifer drew his shortsword with a sigh of resignation. He would make his stand here, atop this hill, and perhaps the height advantage of the three things would be partially lessened. He saw them now, a quarter-mile behind, three rickety silhouettes against the sinking moon, vaguely man-like.

They occasionally bent double, trailing him by his man-smell, the scent of a warm-blooded thing. Suddenly the sound of distant, agitated hooting struck his cloth-encased ears-they'd seen him with the preternatural vision of their saucer-eyes. He glanced about fatalistically as the paleness of dawn began to tinge the eastern sky-the sun would rise too late to save him now. With the calmness that comes of knowing death is certain, he watched the long shadows flee across the hills before the approaching day.

He looked northward. He drew a sharp breath in surprise-he had no idea he'd come so far! Ahead stretched unmoving giants in still procession across the wastes-the Columns of Kegresh, between which no creature born of magic, night or cold might pass! Sheathing his sword, he plunged down the hill, fresh vigor filling his limbs.

He hadn't run far before the cries of his pursuers rang out-their quarry was in sight, and they shook their tentacled heads at the birthing day and roared with bestial joy. They would bring the man down and then bury him in a snow-bank, returning for him when the painful light of the day had passed-then they would gorge on his frozen flesh beneath the rising moon. The thought of this banquet at his expense lent yet more speed to Pulsifer's heels-his long legs darted out like the necks of glacier-snakes, a likeness furthered by the wedge-shaped travel-boots he wore. He left a trail of fog behind him at the level of his head, and the snow-devils, scenting on this, loped even faster and yelped anew. This would be the deciding run. The day birthed clear and sharp, the world a reflection locked in crystal.

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Excerpt Land of Ice: A Velvet Knife:

A Chance Acquaintance

Rain fell from a lusterless sky, each drop a freezing reminder of the impermanence of the brief season called the Warming. Before the wanderer the road was mostly clear of ice, though in places wagon-furrows were fringed with slush. The northwestern sky seemed suspended upon a mighty grey wall, which rose up from the ancient earth to curve southward. A huge volcanic mass, slightly smoldering, jutted near the central bend of this curve, where the Thuradin Mountains met the Aulothem chain. Despite the presence of the volcano the air held a heavy chill, for these were the plains of Distidak, on the continent of Teumdoth, and the Age of Ice was yet upon it.

The man was tall and rangy, handsome beneath several day's growth of stubbled beard. He was crafty of visage, a supercilious curled moustache upon his upper lip, his long face framed by a thick tumbling mane of chestnutbrown hair which bounced with his stride, despite its wetness. He wore trews of blue-dyed wool, vest and breeches in one piece, and about his waist was a beaten pouch-belt with locking compartments. A rusty, unscabbarded shortsword hung from a makeshift harness at his side, its worm-eaten wooden pommel an indication of both his penniless state, and its foundling origin. He stepped in a puddle and cursed, kicking to dislodge mud from his boot.

Pulsifer the rogue looked with disgust at the road ahead, which dwindled into a distant, late-afternoon murk. He was soaked through to his skin, which itched madly beneath the chafing of his coarse-spun shirt and woolen garments. His stomach growled in unfed rage, and his face was irritated from hours of continuous exposure to downpour and drizzle, wind and chill. He longed for a comfortable set of quilted traveler's clothes, with mask and pads to shield him from the elements. Mostly, however, he wished for a warm, dry place to pass the coming night. The nights of Teumdoth were not safe for solitary human travelers, for darklings and other creatures of unnatural derivation always rose from burrows and warrens with the sinking of the sun, to hunt for man-flesh beneath the stars.

Mount Yawamris, the volcano many miles away, shot a brief greenish flame into the clouds. Pulsifer had already resolved to give that mountain wide avoidance-not out of fear of the fires of the volcano, but rather out of worries of encountering one of the many enemies he now had among the Brotherhood of Mages, particularly the awesome Morskured Montath. Yawamris was surrounded by a bustling town, which catered primarily to the needs and research of wizards and arcane scholars; even deep within the mountain, sorcerers worked, forging weapons and devices from the molten blood of the outwardly-frozen earth. Pulsifer thought of the civilized comforts there, and sighed.

Suddenly, for the first time in days, the road forked. He hadn't seen the branching-off until now, due to the low-lying haze of rain and ash particles in the air, and his own melancholy state of mind. One path led to the north, as it had for weeks; the other twisted off between hillocks covered in scrub, toward the volcano. He stood at the fork in indecision, fingering his moustaches, his thumb on his stubbled chin.

He felt a desperate urge to take the leftward path, toward the volcano and the nearest human settlement. His wary nature screamed no to this direction, however-his hunger, his discomfort in unison cried yes. As he stood considering his eyes strayed to the ground; a broad set of four-toed footprints, each a yard long and nearly as wide, were sunk into the frozen earth to a depth of four inches.

He dropped into a wary crouch, grasping the pommel of his sword. The prints were either those of a day-roaming malderg, a monstrous ogre of the wildlands, or a southern olang, an ogre-like creature of near-human intelligence and savage disposition. Such day-wandering creatures were not as tainted with magic as the darklings of the night, but they were just as deadly. The prints followed the right branch of the road as far as he could see.

Accordingly, he scurried to the left, still bent-double, his decision made for him by circumstance. He would take his chances with the possibility of danger in the days to follow, at Yawamris, rather than risk the near-certainty of meeting an ogre along the other road today.

He walked stealthily up the left road, looking toward the northward path to his right until it was concealed from view by low-rolling hillocks and jutting, igneous boulders. Although the sun would be sinking soon, and the malderg or olang would be squeezing into its burrow for the night, other dangers were all too plentiful; and when night fell, life in Old Teumdoth became truly perilous.

The dun-green landscape faded into swatches of blue shadow and grey expanses of bannis-covered ground. Yellowish patches of cinquefoil glowed eerily here and there, and stunted tamaracks twisted in frozen dances to either side. The rain stopped and a clinging mist began to curl and seep from the plain; shivering, Pulsifer hurried through the twilight with his rusty sword in his hand, looking for a place to pass the night, wary for newly-risen darklings in search of warm flesh.

As he went, he mentally cursed the enemies responsible for his outlawed state, and also the injured shaghorse he'd left miles behind. Darkness descended with a shudder on the wind. Bannis-weed and thorny shrubs rustled and clattered in the freezing blasts which swept down from the north; figures of fog leapt up before the wind, to be quickly tattered and dissolved; stunted trees loomed like hunched crones, or crouching parsennocs. He studied each dark shape with care, fearful that one of them would prove to actually be a man-eating parsennoc, or other nightwalker.

**************

REVIEWS:

Reviews for Pulsifer: A Fable, the first novel in the Pulsifer Saga Omnibus Edition

By Steven R. Harbin (Southeastern USA)

This is a really good read. The main character is a "rogue" in the model of other literary rogues such as Jack Vance's Cugel the Clever and George Macdonald Fraser's Harry Flashman. Many of his adventures and misadventures are the result of his own machinations. Despite this, I found myself caught up in the story and actually caring about what Pulsifer did or what happened to him, which to me is the mark of a good storyteller.

The fantasy world in which the action takes place is a continent surrounded and threatened by encroaching ice, where magic works, and science has been forgotten. The story is reminiscent of Clark Ashton Smith's Zothique and Jack Vance's The Dying Earth series, high class company indeed, but Mott pulls the whole thing off with his own imagination. I highly recommend this one to anyone who enjoys fantasy and adventure.

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Pulsifer, A Fable, July 9, 2006
By Brian J. Allan (Scotland)

In this intellgent, amusing and well written book the author evokes pleasing images of the great fantasy writers like Howard, Lovecraft, Tolkein and Vance. Although there are resonances with Mike Mott's other book, the non- fiction 'Caverns Cauldrons and Concealed Creatures', the difference here is that, as with Jack Vance, the adventure is leavened with a light and deft, often laugh out loud application of humour as the 'hero' alternately swaggers and stumbles through a range of largely self made disasters on his unsteady path through the narrative. I heartily recommend this book to anyone with a liking for humourous, swords and sorcery fantasy, they will be well rewarded.

This book encompasses all that is good about the fantasy genre. The antihero of the piece alternately struts, staggers and lurches across the vast canvas of a unique, bold, technicolor fantasy world created by author's imagination. By turns a liar, lover, conman and thief, our hero repeatedly finds himself enmeshed in a series of disasters and calamities largely of his own creation. If there is one thing that distinguishes this work from the others it is its humor. This is a laugh out loud funny book and the hapless hero will leave the reader gasping for breath as he grapples with the wizards and monsters that inhabit his world. Again, I heartily recommend this work to anyone with a taste for heroic fiction and humor.

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Fantasy Fiction with a Literary Flair, June 15, 2006
By Anonymous

Pulsifer: A Fable took me back down literary highways I'd long forgotten--those of sly satire, caustic wit, wild, unforeseen plot-twists, and hilarious characters and situations!

This incredible novel took me back to the reason I used to read: Just for the sheer pleasure of enjoying a really great book! Too bad there aren't more books like this these days, along the lines of Lewis Carroll, Rabelais, and Swift (but in contemporary language)!

While I loved the books of Tolkien, this book is very much what Tolkien's work is not--that is, it is NOT plodding, NOT bogged down in minutiae, and definitely NOT sweet and filled with song and cute little characters! In fact, this is the most amazing and believable fantasy world I've seen in a long time. The action is fast, and the author's understanding of human nature--whether rogue, wizard, or anyone else--is undeniable! If you've ever sat in a board-room meeting with a bunch of stuffed shirts, or stifled your amusement at the pomposity of self-lauding academics, then there are scenes in this book that will either make you laugh out loud or smirk in appreciation. And the protagonist himself is a complex, very human character that I would love one minute and revile the next, and then I'd find myself stunned by something he'd had the audacity or luck to pull off!

I've known people like that...Read this one, you won't regret it!

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A Tale of Purest Fantasy, May 30, 2006
By Kevin C. Stuart (Statesboro, GA, USA)

I do not get enthralled by books. I do not become enamored to the point that I cannot put a book down. I do not spend an entire day reading through a book, in a single sitting.

But I did all these things with Pulsifer.

Wm. Michael Mott has created a world rich with curiosities, a world of vivid emotion and humor, and a world that is richer, more intense, and more believable with each page.

Not settling for the archetypes of elves, goblins, and dragons, Mott has developed a catalog of creatures that is a thousand times deadlier and more interesting than the over-utilized zoologies of current fantasy novels. None of these creatures feel like contrivances, they serve specific purposes in the happenings of their world. Quite frankly, I am more intrigued by Mott's talycent than I have ever been with dragons.

As for the main character, Calim Pulsifer, he is a mixture of wit, cunning, and adventurous spirit. His unflagging quest for vengeance leads him from the most treacherous expanses of his frozen world to palaces of manifest opulence and back; however, throughout his journeys, Calim strives for karmic alignment with more dedication than most Buddhist monks, while exploiting more loop-holes than the greasiest Southern lawyer.

I recommend Pulsifer to all who enjoy tales of rogues and adventures, monstrosities and magic, bad guys and not-so-bad guys. No, even more than that, I recommend Pulsifer to fans of story.

Pulsifer, and the future works of Wm. Michael Mott, have earned a permanent place in my library and imagination.

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A Great Read!, April 12, 2006
By Paul Steward, author of True Tales of Terror in the Caves of the World and Tales of Dirt, Danger, and Darkness

For those who enjoyed Michael Mott's nonfiction book, Caverns, Cauldrons, and Concealed Creatures, you will be pleased to know that Mott has not strayed far from some of the concepts in that work in his latest book, Pulsifer: A Fable, the First Novel of Pulsifer the Rogue. Age-old archetypes and folkloric forms are put to use in original and entertaining ways that will keep you wanting more with each turn of the page.

In Pulsifer, Mott has assembled a mass of misfit trolls and wizards and every form of flesh-eating monster one can imagine, and we see them all through the eyes of Calim Pulsifer, a conniving, thieving, fast-talking, scoundrel banished from his homeland, roaming distant lands bent on revenge for those responsible for his abolishment.

Throughout his wanderings, and despite his best laid plans, Pulsifer always seems to wind up in the wrong place at the wrong time, fighting for his life against an assortment of angered women, unscrupulous wizards, reptilian-like beasts, and bizarre human forms.

Regardless of his checkered past, Pulsifer is a very likable guy, an underdog whom we can relate to, whose quick wit and steal charm are equal weapons against any adversary. Mott keeps the reader guessing with each chapter as he gets our rogue hero in and out of trouble and throws in a surprise ending sure to please even the most finicky of readers.

It is books like this that remind us why we read: they take us to strange lands, we meet exciting people, and for a short time we leave the everyday world we are accustom to. I think there is a little bit of Pulsifer in all of us.

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A Wicked Fable, March 28, 2006
By Jonathan Pote (Mississippi State, MS United States)

A great read! In this mythic world of mighty heroes and low humor, karma is an unstoppable force (more than gravity), but you never know how and when you will get yours.

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Journey to a land of mayhem, mirth, monsters, maidens and misadventure., March 28, 2006
By David Gunter (Mill Creek, WA United States)

"Pulsifer: A Fable" is an excellent read. Truly original in concept, uproariously funny and totally unapologetic in it's politic incorrectness. How great is that!

I read this book a few years ago on CD and re-read it very recently in book form. It's great to see it finally get it's due.

Calim Pulsifer is a perfectly dressed thief, rogue, womanizer, confidence man and misadventurer, who journeys through the frozen wasteland of Teumdoth, a place filled with wizards, warriors, horrible monsters and, unfortunately for Pulsifer, amorous women, on his quest to return to his homeland and take vengeance on his enemies. Cruising from one extreme misadventure after another, he leaves death, havoc, bedlam, and nothing resembling political correctness in his wake.

I'm a big fan of Michael Moorcock and the late Karl Edward Wagner. Wm. Michael Mott now sits on my bookshelf right between the two. If you have read the stories of Prince Elric of Melnibonè, Jerry Cornelius or the mystic swordsman Kane, I think you will find the tale of Calim Pulsifer to be easily their kin.

If you don't read this book may you be cornered in a cave by a hungry parsennoc or left outside at night in the hands of female jinmonanders. So if you want to know exactly how to outsmart a over-confident parsennoc or what drug to take to better your chances of surviving an evening with jinmonanders, then you had better read Pulsifer: A Fable.

It's a great read, very well-written with plenty of action and an abundance of belly laughs in between, and I hope Wm. Michael Mott has more stories of Pulsifer the Velvet Knife to come!

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Review of Land of Ice, A Velvet Knife, the second novel in the Pulsifer Saga Omnibus Edition A great sequel to Pulsifer: A Fable, August 24, 2008
By Steven R. Harbin (Southeastern USA)

If possible, this sequel to "Pulsifer: A Fable" is an even better story. Rogue Pulsifer scams even when he would do better not to, blunders sometimes, outwits his foes at other times, fights heroically when he has to, runs away when he can. The only thing he is never guilty of is being boring. Author Wm. Michael Mott has created a great character, and set him in a finely realized imaginary world that I found just as interesting as Jack Vance's Dying Earth or Clark Ashton Smith's Hyperborea and Zothique, all of which Temudoth somewhat resembles, but Mott interjects much that is original. I consider these Pulsifer books among the best fantasies I've read this year, keeping company with works by Neil Gaiman, Charles R. Saunders, and Manly Wade Wellman. I recommend them to any one who likes the fantasy genre, but a warning, Pulsifer grows on you, but he is by no means a hero or even likeable, he is totally into whatever he can do for himself, even at the expense of others, but his adventures are too interesting to stop reading (at least, they were for me). 5 Stars easily.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

TGS is the ONLY AUTHORIZED PUBLISHER of the novels of the Pulsifer Saga. Another publisher, who NO LONGER HAS ANY PUBLICATION RIGHTS TO THESE WORKS, is still offering them for sale at online booksellers at greatly inflated prices. Not only are they still providing these works illegally, but they are offering them on extremely SUBSTANDARD MATERIALS which age and yellow far too quickly, and cost far too much per volume. I would ask most sincerely that you ONLY BUY THESE NOVELS FROM TGS, THE AUTHORIZED PUBLISHER. You will receive two books in one volume and also a MUCH HIGHER QUALITY PRODUCT. Also, by buying this edition from TGS you will be honoring the author's wishes and not putting ill-gotten gains in the pockets of an unethical publishing enterprise.

Please support struggling writers by not doing business with those who rip them off!

Thanks very much,
-Wm. Michael (Mike) Mott

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Author Biography:

Wm. Michael Mott has been Creative Director for a national toy and manufacturing company, a high-performance software company, the Art Director for a city newspaper, and has worked as an artist/designer for Fortune 500 companies, as well as for an NSF Engineering Research Center and for a variety of freelance clients such as book and magazine publishers. He is also a freelance artist and writer, and writes both fiction and non-fiction. His artwork and writing have appeared or been featured in many publications, such as Computer Graphics World Magazine, Computer Artist, IEEE Computer, IEEE Computer Graphics and Applications, Syllabus Magazine, PHOTO/Electronic Imaging, DRAGON Magazine, FATE, NEXUS, World Explorer, Undaunted Press, Lost Continent Library Magazine, Planetary Stories, and elsewhere. He has created artwork and graphic design for mass-market book covers, posters, brochures, packaging, CD-ROM covers and art collections, and digital/web-based media, and has won several design awards, from regional Advertising Federation awards for printed material, to awards for web site graphics and design. His artwork has been featured in the exhibition "In Dreams Awake: Art of Fantasy" at the Olympia and York Gallery, NYC, 1988; at the 1987 World Fantasy Con, Con*stellation, the DragonCon 2001 art show, several one-man exhibits, and digital galleries in various venues. He also researches and writes on Fortean, folklore, and comparative religion, and paranormal topics. He is available for contract illustration and design work, particularly book cover artwork, maps, and interior illustration, or creative writing projects.

His published writings, artwork and numerous radio interviews can be seen at http://www.mottimorphic.com, and he is also the author of the satirical fantasy novel Pulsifer: A Fable and its sequel, Land of Ice, A Velvet Knife (both soon to be re-released in one omnibus edition from TGS) as well as the non-fiction books Caverns, Cauldrons, and Concealed Creatures and This Tragic Earth: The Art and World of Richard Sharpe Shaver.

Other books by Wm. Michael Mott published by TGS:
Caverns, Cauldrons, and Concealed Creatures
This Tragic Earth: The Art and World of Richard Sharpe Shaver
Pulp Winds: Pulse Pounding Adventures in Fiction and Verse


Quick Link to all Wm. Michael Mott's Books


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Ancient Curse
Globe Within The Sun
Merry Order of St. Bridget
 
PARA-X POWERS
Elementary Theosophy & Self Development and the Way To Power
Beautiful Thoughts