The Fractured Arcana Universe

 

Two series, one shattered universe: 

an ancient war that forged magic, 

and the modern invasion that it made possible.

Mother of Trees

Thaumatropic Roots Book 1

Part of the Fractured Arcana Universe

by Steven J. Morris

Genre: Epic Fantasy

A dying goddess. A fractured prophecy. A magicless elf who shouldn't exist.

Elliah has spent her entire life being told what she is—bereft, wrong, a mistake the world would prefer to correct. Drifting from town to town with a mother who won't explain why they keep running, she has no magic, no place, and no future. Then a single misstep draws the attention of those who've been looking for her, and everything her mother was hiding comes apart.

She isn't ready for what she learns. But ready was never an option.

Mother of Trees is the thrilling first book in the Thaumatropic Roots epic fantasy series. Enter a world of dangerous magic, ancient powers, and one impossible girl who refuses to stay down.

 

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Elliah ~ 1

My mother told me many times that all adolescents feel like they don't belong, but… I really didn't. So I spent my free time away from other elves, on my own but for the animals… they didn't understand how broken I was. And I was quite pleased with my current find, so I snarled when a noise behind me scared away the drakeling that had settled in my hands. Black with a pattern of red scales along its spine, its body the thickness of my finger, it took flight with a flurry of thin leathery wings and disappeared behind a massive brown trunk.

"The real ones are much more intimidating," said an unfamiliar voice.

Time slowed as I tensed to run, shocked that I'd let my guard down so much that anyone had gotten that close. How many lurked behind me? On the outskirts of town, in the thick of the woods near the river, I had expected solitude.

"Stay, Bereft. I am not afraid," said the voice. His words provoked me.

"No one's afraid of me," I blurted. Bitterness stained my words as surely as the pollen of the bloodcups had stained my ragged clothes.

I turned away from the vanished drakeling to focus on the intruder who'd scared it away. A man. No, I corrected myself, someone my age. Someone not quite old enough for adults to consider one of their own, but too old to call a child.

But not Bereft. No other elf shared that with me.

The newcomer was slightly taller than me with a thin frame, his light hair hanging long, wild, and tangled. He was new to the village—I would have noticed an elf with skin so light. I'd heard whispers of him at school. Kethryllia had called him Salt-kissed, and I'd wondered what that meant, but his light skin answered that question. He'd undoubtedly caught whispers about me, heard of my… condition. Bereft. Yet at that moment, I thought only of the hours of coaxing I'd spent to draw the little drakeling into my grasp, and that the stupid elf had scared it away. I wanted to punch him.

"Maybe they should be," he said, taking a step back, though it would have taken me two leaps to get to him, and he'd have me pinned in one, if he had any skill with magic at all. But I'd prepared a leap already, only not in his direction. As I sprung away, he continued, raising his voice, "And you're right, they're not afraid of you."

I landed with a tree between us. His magic wouldn't be able to snag me there. Unless he was very good at it.

"They're afraid of what you represent."

Continue the Thaumatropic Roots Series

Magic is as natural as breathing in Elliah's world — except to her. Born without a single spark in a war that runs on it, she has nothing but her will and her refusal to accept the limits everyone else has already decided for her. This is what happens when the world writes you out of the story, and you refuse to leave.

 

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Mother of Trees

Bones of Cenaedth

Secrets of Deara

Shepherds of Truth

The Guardian of the Palace

The Guardian League Book 1

Part of the Fractured Arcana Universe

by Steven J. Morris

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Magic isn’t real.
Red Hernandez is very sure of that.

She wants a quiet life after Special Forces—just a steady security job at a half-finished Manhattan skyscraper.

But then a sister tower implodes in a way physics can’t explain.
Witnesses report creatures in the smoke.
And something hunts her in the tunnels beneath.

Red wants answers. What she gets instead is an elf with a sword, a troll with a wry sense of humor, and a dwarf who believes every battle requires an audience. They insist an ancient enemy has crossed into our world—and Red becomes an accidental gatekeeper simply because she’s standing on the fault line when it cracks open.

As a hidden war erupts in the shadows of New York City, Red must decide: run from the past that nearly destroyed her… or fight for a world she’s only just beginning to believe in.

A veteran with nothing left to lose.
A threat born of magic and shadow.
A team she never saw coming.

The Guardian of the Palace launches the action-packed Guardian League series—perfect for fans of urban fantasy, modern-world magic, found family, and heroines who refuse to back down.

 

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Prologue

Corpses patterned the ground as far as my eye could see, a patchwork quilt of death.

I stood atop a skeletal tower, overlooking the broken ruins of an ancient civilization, so very far from home. I envisioned the beauty that the soaring arches once held, the bridges between the constructs reaching out with broken arms, buildings leaning against one another like ancient lovers in a final embrace. Crumbled remains powdered the bases of former statues, and, everywhere, all of it was littered with the dead.

Like a phoenix, I stood, bathed in fire. An Angel of Death. Not the Angel of Death—he was an ass.

A part of me wanted to go down and see for myself. Maybe just to make sure… to make sure I had done my job… and killed everyone that used to inhabit that world. The magic I was wielding should have destroyed them all—something inside of me could feel that it had—but I wanted to see it.

Yet I knew that was unrealistic. I didn't have the time. There were other worlds that needed my infection, and Earth was on my shortlist.

  

Chapter 1

Red - Day 20, Sunday, the day after the attack

"Ms. Hernandez?" a muffled voice called from a distance, accompanied by a gentle rapping on a door. My consciousness registered the interruption as a nuisance and pulled me back under.

What seemed like seconds later, the rapping came again, more insistent. "Ms. Hernandez."

Ms. Hernandez was my mom… why were they bothering me?

Then a scraping sound, and an alarmed voice. "Ms. Hernandez! Are you okay?"

Some scrambling, some grunts, more scraping… shit, I was going to have to wake up. Why couldn't they just let me sleep?

I tried to answer, but my throat was dry and nothing came out. Coughing, I attempted to sit up, not wholly returned from my trip to dreamland. "I'm here. I'm okay." Was I though? I wasn't sure.

I was in my flat. Not the desert. My door was partway open, and a slightly overweight man had paused in the act of pushing his way in. I recognized him, but his name escaped me. Swinging my legs off my cot, I did a quick modesty check. I was fully dressed, though rather tragically, in some semblance of civilian fatigues—muddied, disheveled, and a little bloody.

The reason came screaming back to me. There had been creatures, unearthly monsters, in The Palace. They'd done things I could not explain by any of the rules I knew. And they'd beaten the hell out of me and then patched me back up in a matter of seconds. I'd blown the head clean off of one of them and fled the scene.

Not my smartest move.

Continue The Guardian League Series!

Earth, through its technological advances, supports nearly eight billion souls; from a cosmic perspective, that makes it ripe for the picking. 'Red' Hernandez, trying to put a questionable military life behind her, finds herself caught in the middle of stopping an apocalyptic invasion of Earth. But to do that, she has to figure out who the good guys are, and how she can combat forces in which she does not believe.

 

Get them:

The Guardian of the Palace

Stars in the Sand

We’re Going On An Elf Hunt

The Song Unsung

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Steven J. Morris writes fantasy where magic runs deep and the consequences run deeper. By day he's an engineer and father of three in Austin, Texas. He's the author of eight novels across two completed series — the epic Thaumatropic Roots and the urban Guardian League — both set in the shared Fractured Arcana universe. Find him at sjmorriswrites.com.

 

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How Do You Live Without Love?

 

A newly hired, grief-burdened local pastor relocates to Asheville to revive a struggling Methodist church, only to collide with small-town politics, scandal, and a media-fueled public crisis; his efforts to build community and heal himself meet resistance, tragedy, and unexpected solidarity.

How Do You Live Without Love?

The Dying Church Series Book 1

by Anthony Bradshaw

Genre: Contemporary Fiction, Found Family

 

Wesley Aames shows up to New Covenant as a man who has already lost everything—wife, daughter, and the will to keep going. Hired to revive a sleepy Appalachian church, he finds a congregation on life support: dwindling funds, fractious trustees, and a choir director who distrusts the new pastor from day one.

When a teenager dies by suicide and her mother's humiliation explodes online, Rosa Lee becomes a magnet for cameras and contempt. Wesley, barely a pastor and twice a stranger to mercy, steps into the storm—counseling teens, calming old ladies, cutting the grass, answering crisis hotline calls—trying to make faith look like rescue instead of rhetoric.

As the church's finances and patience run out, a vote looms: keep the earnest, flawed pastor or replace him with steadier hands. But when the outside world shows up with microphones and accusations. Wesley's choices become literal life or death. Can a man who still blames himself for his family's deaths save strangers—and in doing so, finally forgive himself? This is a story about grief, messy grace, and the small acts that sometimes hold a town together.

 

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Wesley walked today rather than ran. Too tired to run, he needed time for introspection, processing, and perhaps a re-balancing of his inner psyche. He had always prided himself on his self-control and equilibrium. Rarely did he lose his temper or act without thought. Wesley started the play list that featured Janiva Magness and walked the streets of Asheville with her sultry voice soothing his savage breast.

Then Wesley saw him. The ugliest, mangiest looking dog Wesley ever. The few spots where he had hair were brown. One leg was missing. One ear looked chewed off and the way he cocked his head made Wesley think the dog was blind in one eye. “Hey there,” Wesley said. The dog took a step back. Wesley kneeled on the damp ground. “Hey boy.”

The dog held his ground this time. He cocked his head and watched Wesley with his good eye. Using the universal and timeless signal between dogs and the people they owned everywhere, Wesley clucked his tongue. The dog’s one good ear twitched. A little.

Turning around, Wesley took a few steps away from the three-legged, one-eyed, one-eared dog and whistled. The dog barked. Wesley kept walking. The dog barked again. Twice. Louder this time. Wesley turned back and looked at the dog. “Come on, if you want to,” said Wesley with a smile. The dog barked at Wesley, and then he trotted to where Wesley stood, looked up at him and barked. Man and dog walked the streets of Asheville.

Back at the parsonage, Wesley knew he would be late for work, but he did not care. The dog needed to eat.

“As funny as it would be to watch you eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, how about I give you corned beef hash? It’s canned. I haven’t had time to make fresh–but I will, I promise. Just for you. Well, and me. I’ll have some of this as well for my breakfast. You won’t care if I heat it or not. So, let’s rough it and eat it straight out of the can. You know, like the cavemen did.” The dog sat back on his one good haunch and waited–like dogs do.

“Here you go, pal.” Wesley spooned half of the can onto a paper plate. “You know, missing a couple body parts like you do, looks like you have stories to tell. You may be the luckiest dog alive.” Wesley kept up a constant stream of chatter to put the dog at ease. The dog barked and moved closer. Wesley took the opportunity, while the dog devoured his food, to check the dog’s collar and tag.

“George.”

The dog stopped eating, backed up, and growled.

Wesley looked at the dog and said it again. “George.”

The dog growled and barked. It was a different bark from any of the earlier barks.

Wesley pointed at the collar and tag. “The tag says your name is George,” reasoned Wesley.

George growled and barked.

Wesley squatted and clicked his tongue. “Come here, boy.”

He placed a slight emphasis on the last word. George wagged his tail and inched close enough to resume eating, which he did.

“George,” said Wesley. “George” backed up a few feet–out of Wesley’s reach. His one good eye darted between Wesley and the half-eaten corned beef hash.

“Come here.” Wesley clicked his tongue.

The dog stared at Wesley for a moment before coming close enough to eat his few remaining bites.

“Well, it looks like you don’t care much for your old name. I bet I can call you anything if I feed you. How about…Lucky?”

Wesley looked over “Lucky’s” three-legged, one-eared, and one-eyed body and just shook his head at the irony of calling this dog “Lucky.” That sealed it. “I wonder if you only have one nostril working?” Wesley laughed. “You oughta see the other dog, huh? Right, Lucky?”

Wesley kneeled and scratched behind the dog’s good ear and repeated his new name — Lucky. Before Wesley left for work, he pulled up the picture of his family on his cell phone and introduced the newest member of his family to the picture of his wife and daughter.

Lucky finished the can of cold corned beef hash and drank water from the empty can.

 

I've had several "careers." I've taught robotics; been a hospital administrator, served in the National Guard, bussed tables and flipped burgers. Above all else, I am a husband, father, and grand-pere'. I am a native of North Carolina and currently reside near Asheville.

 

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Smitty

Title: Smitty

Series: Satan's Fury MC - Little Rock

Author: L. Wilder

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: August 18, 2026

Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations

Cover Model: Dom

Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography

I had nothing when I found her.

No roof. No patch. No name that meant anything to anyone.

I was just a man clawing his way out of the dark.

She didn’t see a lost cause.

She saw me. Loved me.

But I had wounds even she couldn’t heal.



So, I pushed her away.

Two years had come and gone.

I was no longer the broken guy with nothing.

I’d faced my fears and earned my patch.

I had everything I wanted. Except her.

I’d fought for a place I could call home.

Now, I would fight for her.

No matter what the cost.

Some people only get one chance at love.

I’m praying for a second.

Wall Street Journal and USA Today Best Seller, L. Wilder, writes about hot, alpha men and the women who love them. She currently has six series available for readers: The Devil Chaser's MC, Satan's Fury MC, Satan's Fury MC-Memphis, the Redemption Series, the Happy Endings Collection, and the Ruthless Sinners MC. If you're looking for a book that will keep you on the edge of your seat and have you smiling like a school girl at the end, L. Wilder is the author for you.

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