Iron Soul: The Ritual of Passage

Robert is an Earthbound Soul, chained to one spot for more than two centuries. When a self-proclaimed Ferryman named Aldus Vorkis appears, Robert rejoices—until he learns Aldus’s agenda. Aldus informs Robert he’s an Iron Soul, incapable of crossing over to the Realms of the Dead. Aldus is there to enlist him in an epic battle against Deathwych Ziegbart Engelrat. Once a brilliant scientist, Ziegbart gained dangerous knowledge about spectres, beings that feed off negative energies, and the repercussions drove him mad. Now Ziegbart and his army of Reapermen are poised to destroy both the living and the dead. As Hurricane Diabolus closes in, giving Ziegbart incredible strength, Robert and Aldus are thrown into spectral warfare. Can they reach the Winnowing Point in time to save the Realms? Or will the spectres gathered there finally overpower the Iron Soul, once and for all? Tony Floyd’s debut work presents a world unlike any other—and where the stakes after you die couldn’t be higher. As a small child, my "library" consisted of a handful of picture books I barely even remember anymore. No surprise, really, as I didn't actually learn to read until I was roughly nine years old.  It wasn't until the second grade that I learned the simple, but profound, fact that letters represented sounds, or that you could combine those letters and sounds to make individual words.  Third grade taught me that combinations of words made sentences, sentences made statements, and statements represented ideas.  This revelation compelled my nine year old self to reexamine my old picture books, but by then they were already insufficient.  With no literature for older kids available to me, or even "young adult" stories as a step up in my growth, I made the leap to my parents' modest selection of science fiction and fantasy novels.  It was hard, but rewarding: the reading bug had bit me, and I never looked back.  Now I'm looking to take the next step, and write stories of my own.

About the Author

As a small child, my ''library'' consisted of a handful of picture books I barely even remember anymore. No surprise, really, as I didn't actually learn to read until I was roughly nine years old. It wasn't until the second grade that I learned the simple, but profound, fact that letters represented sounds, or that you could combine those letters and sounds to make individual words. Third grade taught me that combinations of words made sentences, sentences made statements, and statements represented ideas. This revelation compelled my nine year old self to reexamine my old picture books, but by then they were already insufficient. With no literature for older kids available to me, or even ''young adult'' stories as a step up in my growth, I made the leap to my parents' modest selection of science fiction and fantasy novels. It was hard, but rewarding: the reading bug had bit me, and I never looked back. Now I'm looking to take the next step, and write stories of my own.

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