Profile
L.H. Leonard
Fantasy
- Profile View
11779
- Total Quotes
12
- Books
4
- Member Since
Feb 2020
- Gender
Female
- Country
United States
- Born
14 June
- Profession
Author
About
L.H. Leonard writes epic fantasy because she prefers imaginary worlds to dysfunctional real ones. She's been a technologist (computer geek and manager thereof) in the financial and media industries for most of her career, and sidelines as micro-publisher Each Voice Publishing. When getting paid doesn't matter, she's an animal rescuer, artist, almost-master gardener, and a surprisingly good cook.
She and her husband live happily ever after in Georgia, where their forever home is a short trek from the Chattahoochee River through woods filled with deer, coyotes, owls, the occasional bear, and of course, hawks.
Their progeny are creative individualists, the eldest of whom has given them a small tribe of grandchildren. They're the real Children of Promise.
Rootstock Saga is a completed 4-book series scheduled for release throughout 2020.
Please visit her at lhleonard.com or rootstocksaga.com to chat.
L.H. Leonard Books
Nigel narrowed his eyes to a thin slit. As an old drunk slouched in a chair, he drew as little notice as the broom propped in the corner. He leaned back his head, and the wall pushed his tweed cap down his brow.
L.H. LeonardAn ember burns crimson beneath the black coals. A fire left for dead, forgotten. I crouch and cup my hands. I remember its promise. In the rush of my breath, the ember glows brighter. It remembers, too. (Nigel Willoughby)
L.H. LeonardEven the quietest life leaves a scratch on the world as it passes through. Some lives gouge a scar so deep they change the course of all that comes after them. Dowan Iverach's was one of those.
L.H. LeonardOf average size for a plow horse, but conspicuously large for a man, the Buchanan shouldered between his companions with the apologetic restraint of one accustomed to fitting his bulk into an undersized world and wishing it wouldn’t cower like that.
L.H. LeonardFehan’s unremarkable eyes had gone as round as saucers behind the oversized spectacles perched on his narrow nose, making him look like an underfed owl.
L.H. LeonardIf ever a man was too clever for his own good, it was the learned Daor Ranald. A middle-aged scholar with silver-rimmed spectacles and a curly brown mop of hair that refused any efforts at taming, he was always moving, talking, or reading. Often all at once.
L.H. LeonardWit is a sword. Comedy is a wolf hidden amidst the sheep. A few clever words can crumble even the hardest held prejudices.
L.H. LeonardMost of the streets in Buchanwick were paved, but none followed the straight lines most soft-foot towns insisted on toeing. White Hawk didn’t like straight lines. He said rivers didn’t run straight, so why should streets? He said a meandering street made you wonder what waited around the next bend. And so, the streets of Buchanwick meandered.
L.H. LeonardDara pinched the bridge of his nose, no doubt fending off a headache she’d brought on him. Madelyn-induced headaches tended to come on him regularly and had ever since that incident with the snapping turtle when she was ten, although that honestly had not been her fault. “What have you done now?” he said. “Stop looking at me that way,” she said. “It does not inspire confidence.”
L.H. LeonardElegance of being is effortless. It is born, not cultivated, and as impossible to disguise as it is to imitate. (Queen Glyneth)
L.H. Leonard“My dear, maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’ve grown old. I speak my mind because I’m no longer expected to bite my tongue. Age is a high price to pay for the liberty, and I intend to enjoy it.”
L.H. LeonardThe rare snowstorm had stunned southern Tallu into silence, as if its ground and trees were uncertain how to respond to a snowflake’s soft touch. Moss-draped oaks stood bearing layers of white on their branches, with the forbearance of Rhynn lords granting hospitality to unwelcomed guests.
L.H. LeonardBook Teaser
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https://lhleonard.com
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