Introducing Presage Printopia
As an author or artist finding your tribe, finding those with whom your work resonates is only the beginning.
To keep telling their tales and producing their craft, these intrepid souls need freedom—from big tech, from patrons, from jobs—to keep producing what inspires our souls.
Presage Printopia was born to foster a deeper connection between writers and their readers—an enchanting realm where fans could carry a piece of the tales they love.
The vision is for this store to become a vibrant tapestry of creativity, filled with beautifully designed art prints and collector’s items (and a few trinkets and baubles) that celebrate the heart and soul of each author.
Each purchase at Presage Printopia is a lifeline for the talented authors, (and artists) who pour their hearts into their stories.
Discover Dead Certain
Book One of the gripping Irresponsible Action series.
Who is J. Lorin?
He’s just a guy who loves to write fiction and poke tyranny in the eye with the mighty pen. Besides, it doesn’t really matter who he is if the story is good, right?
Okay, maybe that isn’t satisfying. What else can be said to round out the picture?
He’s not a boomer and not a Gen Xer, which means he’s not sure with whom to identify, though his pronouns are Your Majesty and Lord Lorin.
Ahem …
In college, he tired of watching television because he was sure he could tell better stories than the mindless drivel rendered on TV. So, he fired up his 5 MHz computer with amber screen, hovered his fingers over the keyboard and … nothing.
It took time for him to turn nothing into something because life happened between then and now—short story and novel submissions . . . and rejections, entrepreneurial endeavors, etc. But in the late 2000s he returned to writing about the driving force of human action: ideas.
Riveting!
Spoiler alert: J. Lorin doesn’t write cozy beach reads.
But he does write very thoughtful fantasy and sci-fi thrillers. And, Dear Reader, here is the bonus. You can read them on the beach too.
See, he’s very helpful.
So, who is J. Lorin?
He’s a man with a deep ornery streak who loves to write fiction that is food for the mind and poking tyranny in the eye with the mighty pen.
~ J. Lorin
This book is Fascinating! It offered a surprising mix of intellectual /political issues with the zombie apocalypse and made for a great story. I'll look forward to the Sequel! |
This author is brilliant!
Underneath all the humor, fun banter and over-the-top chaos, there's a heartwarming tale of disaster . . . the kind of disaster that can only come from the monsters just outside our door.
Dead Certain keeps you intrigued from beginning to end. I couldn't put it down. . . . This is a must read book! I truly can't wait for the next book! |
Discover Dead Alone
Book Two of the gripping Irresponsible Action series.
J. Lorin stands out with a character-driven stories that fuel the mind. I just couldn't put down until last page.
More Please!
From the mind of L. J. Buchanan
Chapter 01
“Mages are cowards. You’re a cowardly mage, aren’t ya?”
The man speaking had breath to rival a pig’s ass. I thought about killing him for the common good.
“Hey, you there. Did ya hear me?” Breath Boy said, his mouth carried the reek of menace. “Only a cowardly
Chapter 01
“Mages are cowards. You’re a cowardly mage, aren’t ya?”
The man speaking had breath to rival a pig’s ass. I thought about killing him for the common good.
“Hey, you there. Did ya hear me?” Breath Boy said, his mouth carried the reek of menace. “Only a cowardly
Coming Soon
Other Worldly Fantasy
By L. J. Buchanan
Pre-order your copy Tough and Dangerous [Book 1] Today!
Sneak Peek ~ Chapter 01
Chapter 01
“Mages are cowards. You’re a cowardly mage, aren’t ya?”
The man speaking had breath to rival a pig’s ass. I thought about killing him for the common good.
“Hey, you there. Did ya hear me?” Breath Boy said, his mouth carried the reek of menace. “Only a cowardly mage goes about without steel and that stool you squattin’ on ain’t for mages.”
His friends followed the refrain with a harmony of jeers.
It is a minstrel’s cliché but these fighting words were spoken in a tavern where copious amounts of beer is poured into tankards, but then where else is the song of insult used as a prelude to the dance of violence?
How many times have I heard bards regale us with such a scene? How many times had I heard some rendition of this song?
Enough to know this performance by heart: The climax would be a choreography of violence and humiliation—a ballet of pain.
The tavern keep polished a tankard keeping watch. After hearing mage tossed about like a stray dog turd a few souls gave side eye but no one was taking Breath Boy seriously. This was good because I didn’t want to kill anyone today even though everyone would give me a party for removing this man from our olfactory misery. I killed a cutpurse yesterday and I was trying to keep my body count down because I liked this little city on the western edge of the Desinolis Empire. I fancied that I might stay here for a moon’s turn or two. I’d been on holiday for a while, riding where and when I chose but recently I’d found myself longing for someplace to just be—me bothering no one and no one bothering me. And yet here I am . . . again.
Sign up to unlock the rest of the first chapter for free!