Brandon Sanderson, Patrick Rothfuss, Jacqueline Carey, Peter V. Brett, Mark Lawrence
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
You define life or it defines you.
In Shawn Speakman’s case, it was both.
Lacking health insurance and diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma in 2011, Shawn quickly accrued a massive medical debt that he did not have the ability to pay. That’s when New York Times best-selling author Terry Brooks offered to donate a short story that Shawn could sell tohelp alleviate those bills—and suggested he ask the same of his other writer friends.
Unfettered is the result: an anthology built in order to relieve that debt, featuring short stories by some of the best fantasy writers in the genre.
Twenty-three tales comprise this incredible collection, and as the title suggests, the writers were free to contribute whatever they wished.
Here is the table of contents:
- Foreword by Patrick Rothfuss
- Introduction: On Becoming Unfettered
- Imaginary Friends by Terry Brooks
- How Old Holly Came To Be by Patrick Rothfuss
- The Old Scale Game by Tad Williams
- Game of Chance by Carrie Vaughn
- The Martyr of the Roses by Jacqueline Carey
- Mudboy by Peter V. Brett
- The Sound of Broken Absolutes by Peter Orullian
- The Coach with Big Teeth by R.A. Salvatore
- Keeper of Memory by Todd Lockwood
- Heaven in a Wild Flower by Blake Charlton
- Dogs by Daniel Abraham
- The Chapel Perilous by Kevin Hearne
- Select Mode by Mark Lawrence
- All the Girls Love Michael Stein by David Anthony Durham
- Strange Rain by Jennifer Bosworth
- Nocturne by Robert V.S. Redick
- Unbowed by Eldon Thompson
- In Favour with Their Stars by Naomi Novik
- River of Souls by Robert Jordan & Brandon Sanderson
- The Jester by Michael J. Sullivan
- The Duel by Lev Grossman
- Walker and the Shade of Allanon by Terry Brooks
- The Unfettered Knight by Shawn Speakman
With the help of stalwart friends and these wonderful short stories, Shawn has taken the gravest of life’s hardships and created something magical. Unfettered is not only a fantastic anthology in its own right, but it’s a testament to the generosity found in the science fiction and fantasy community—proof that humanity can give beyond itself when the need arises.
After all, isn’t that the driving narrative in fantasy literature?
set aside for their care appreciate tax-free in guaranteed liquid instruments.” Only such a private colony could offer free and unfettered breeding to dragons, and those places were much sought-after by the small but fiercely proud coterie of aristocratic dragon lines still preserved from the era of pre-industrial combat. There had been only a thousand places sold, at a million federals each, shockingly outrageous prices even for a luxury colony; but they had sold nonetheless. To dragons like
The time-reflexes part of it worked a bit like that bullet-time effect in The Matrix, which is to say that it worked exactly like that. The trigger was Eliot twitching his nose like Samantha on Bewitched. He did it now, and everything in the world abruptly slowed down. He leaned back and away from the slowly, gracefully thrusting blade, lost his balance and put a hand down on the sand, rolled away, then got back on his feet while Vile Father was still completing the motion. Though you didn’t
most important part of reproducing the viola soundboard. Before beginning, he took a deep breath of the spruce-and-maple scent that lingered in the air. This, too, he loved. The smell had a settling effect. Then he bent over the original instrument, which he’d carefully pieced back together with some hide glue. It would never hold together over time, but it gave him a good sense of what the top had looked like before Belamae shattered it. He ran his hands carefully, lovingly, over every
batters nearly as often as the strike zone, had busted out into any substantial lead. The tension in the air had mounted all through the first three innings, shifting gradually from nervousness to sheer excitement as many of the initial jitters dissipated. This was familiar. This was what they knew. And they could do it—maybe. Like everyone else in the park, Lenny Chiles McDermott, or LC, as he preferred, wanted to win. He knew that he wouldn’t play much of a role in any victory, just as he had
his head on the edge of a table. He blacked out momentarily, then his eyes blinked open. Sam was cowering in one corner, frightened half to death. Jack was surprised and grateful that the old dog wasn’t barking like crazy. That would have brought his parents awake in a minute. He patted Sam’s head reassuringly, pulled on his windbreaker, and slipped out through the screen door. Silence enveloped him. Jack crossed the damp green carpet of the backyard on cat’s feet, pushed through the bushes at