I will let this one speak for its self I think. I cant do this justice. 

 My name is Kvothe, pronounced nearly the same as "quothe." Names are important as they tell you a great deal about a person. I've had more names than anyone has a right to. The Adem call me Maedre. Which, depending on how it's spoken, can mean The Flame, The Thunder, or The Broken Tree.

"The Flame" is obvious if you've ever seen me. I have red hair, bright. If I had been born a couple of hundred years ago I would probably have been burned as a demon. I keep it short but it's unruly. When left to its own devices, it sticks up and makes me look as if I have been set afire.

"The Thunder" I attribute to a strong baritone and a great deal of stage training at an early age.

I've never thought of "The Broken Tree" as very significant. Although in retrospect, I suppose it could be considered at least partially prophetic.

My first mentor called me E'lir because I was clever and I knew it. My first real lover called me Dulator because she liked the sound of it. I have been called Shadicar, Lightfinger, and Six-String. I have been called Kvothe the Bloodless, Kvothe the Arcane, and Kvothe Kingkiller. I have earned those names. Bought and paid for them.

But I was brought up as Kvothe. My father once told me it meant "to know."

I have, of course, been called many other things. Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned.

I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep.

You may have heard of me. 

 So begins the tale of Kvothe—from his childhood in a troupe of traveling players, to years spent as a near-feral orphan in a crime-riddled city, to his daringly brazen yet successful bid to enter a difficult and dangerous school of magic. In these pages you will come to know Kvothe as a notorious magician, an accomplished thief, a masterful musician, and an infamous assassin. But The Name of the Wind is so much more—for the story it tells reveals the truth behind Kvothe's legend. 




 One of the advantages of reading books is that you get to play with someone else's imaginary friends, at all hours of the night.  ~Dr. SunWolf, 

Mist Over Pendle

So, As you all know I not only Rave on and on about great books, I also bitch about crap one, This falls into the latter :( . Ever heard that saying "never judge a book by it's cover"? Well I did just that with this book. 
 In fact it was that bad I couldn't remember what it was called when people asked what I was reading, I kept calling it The Wish Of Pendle. 
For what its worth here is some blurb
 
Seventeenth century England is a place of superstition and fear.

Deep in the Forest of Pendle, people have been dying in mysterious circumstances. The locals whisper of witchcraft, but Squire Roger Nowell, in charge of investigating the deaths, dismisses the claims as ridiculous. Until a series of hideous desecration's forces Roger and his cousin Margery to look further into the rumours. And what they discover brings them face to face with the horrifying possibility that a coven of witches is assembling, preparing to unleash a campaign of evil and destruction...

Robert Neill's novel is a classic tale of witchcraft set in a wild inaccessible corner of Lancashire and in a time when the ancient fear of demons and witches was still a part of life... and death.

 It was slow, extremely dull. It was though full of detail and such, That's the only decent thing about this book, The ending went off like a bang, 2 pages to go and you think there has to be more. NO. Just buh bye. 

 Read it though if you wanna 
 A good book should leave you... slightly exhausted at the end.  You live several lives while reading it.  ~William Styron, interview, Writers at Work, 1958

The Painted Man and The Desert Spear

As I haven't Blogged since before Christmas, And Christmas is the reason I haven't Blogged, Running around like its Armageddon trying to get enough food to last forever when all you need is enough until Boxing Day, Getting all the gifts and buying the Tree and then passing away from sheer exhaustion. No fun.
 Anyway, I have several books to rave about or moan about.
 I always get books for Christmas and that's fine by me. The best thing anyone could get me is a book I haven't read. And I always get lots of them. So one by one (Apart from these as The Desert Spear is the second book.
   Down to business. 

Sand demons, Wind demons, Wood demons, Clay Demons, Rock demons,All of them very angry and all of them rule the night, From The tiny Hamlets to the Free Cities, Everyone hides behind their wards and stay in as soon as the sun goes down, The only people still fighting every night are the Krasians in the east.
 Arlen Bales from Tibbets Brook is just a boy and doesn't understand why people hide instead of fighting. He wants his freedom. He wants what The Messengers have. To roam the night. But even Messengers have warded circles to hide in when the night comes. He wants to roam free. Free from Wards and free from Demons. But how does he get it? Buy the books and find out. I am waiting quite impatiently for the third book. 
There is no Blurb from The Painted Man or Warded Man if you are American. And I am not writing the blurb from the back of my book. And there is no blurb from The Desert Spear. Ha ha. Buy it. 
 Hate for the Corelings (Demons) because they come from the Core (Hell) is immense. Fear is always apparent. There is also a little side book called Brayans Gold and The Great Bazaar, These are following Arlen in his travels as a young boy, The full book is a ridiculous £300.00 lol. But for those two short stories its like £1.99 on the Kindle. 


Enjoy :)
  

 Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.  ~P.J. O'Rourke