LTDBoks Terry Sheils Category:  Horror Publisher: LTDBooks ISBN-10:  1553169964 Type: Fiction Pages: 325 Copyright: Dec 12 1999 The Mayan/Aztec God Quetzalcoatl possesses the mind and soul of a modern librarian, Because nature abhors a vacuum, when Quentin Cottell leaves his sheltered life to seek himself, to fill the void that is his soul, and when the Feathered Serpent, (the Mayan-Aztec God, Quetzalcoatl) goes to seek a human vessel to replenish his spirit, the result is not a fantasy. It is perfectly natural. And naturally terrifying. If you are looking for something a little different, this may just be it. For, though it contains elements of fantasy, science-fiction and horror, it is none of these. Perhaps it is merely a story of a man coming of age in his thirties and discovering that he can only find his identity by losing it. Excerpt It all began, I suppose, with the Dream. In fact, it began as a dream - of that much I am sure. After that, the dream became more real and reality became more dream-like, until...but it did begin with the dream...I suppose… PART ONE 1. DAY ONE: Imix - the Womb DIRECTION: The Fertile East DAY NAME: Cipactli, the Water Serpent PATRON: Tonacatecuhtli, the Male Creator The heat was oppressive. A trickle of perspiration snaked from my beard, under my chin, to my navel. I had lurched to my knees in our bunk and leaned over the sleeping form of my brother, Oxel, to shut the light of a sea dawn out of our stateroom by drawing the curtains over the porthole. The activity had caused the pool of sweat that had collected in the hollow of my neck to ripple down my chest. I mopped at the trail of perspiration with the damp sheet, fell back, clamped my knees to my chest, and tried to continue my interrupted sleep, wondering briefly why I had awakened in my twin brother's bunk. And the Dream began. As with most dreams, the sense of place is both very precise and very vague, time becomes both particular and universal and identity in time-space is confused. It was Any Dawn. My location was the precise center of a four-way intersection, at right angles, of marble streets that ran out from me like the major points of a compass. As the scene came into clearer focus, like the opening shots of a movie, it became apparent both that my position at the hub of this four-spoked wheel was slightly raised, the crest of a slight hill, and that the stones of the streets were inlaid in such a manner as to present strange angular designs of men, beasts and flowers, through the subtle contrasts of yellow/gold, red/pink, blue/green, and silver/white. So much for those who say we do not dream in color. From examining the exact nature of these designs, I was, however, immediately distracted, for, as I arose from my squatting posture where my knees had been crushed against my chest, I discovered to my horror that in my left hand I clutched a snake. In revulsion I threw the snake upon the ground, whereupon it crawled off in all four directions, taking on the predominant colour of its particular street as it went, red toward the North, gold toward the East, silver-white to the South and blue-green to the West, so that it, or they, soon became so fused into the background that it disappeared from my sight. And then I suffered the disoriented illusion of being both myself and not myself, of being both inside of and outside of a body that both was and was not my own. In my dream, I was now aware that the figure at the center of the intersection was me, but that also, simultaneously, it was the figure of a woman with a skirt of scales and with serpent heads for hands. I saw her at a distance, as if from a hundred feet directly above her, so that, through the peripheral vision of my mind's eye, I could see the coloured streets leading out from her to a blurred infinity. And yet, at the same time, I was within her body, I was her body, so that I could feel the soft rain that fell upon her upturned face and ran in a serpentine trickle between her breasts down to her navel. Or were they my breasts and my navel? I could see the red sun rising to the East as I turned and fixed her eyes in that direction. And, as the sun rose, the rain became a shower of multicololoured feathers which fell into her upturned mouth. And, then, I entered into and became not only the body but also the mind of the Woman. I could taste the feathers in my mouth. Orange and jasmine. Though I spat some four hundred of them upon the ground, where they boiled in the rain puddles and turned to dry ash, I could not avoid swallowing two of the feathers which had become intertwined with each other and then trapped in my moustache. Upon swallowing them, I was consumed with a terrible hunger. I screamed with the pain of a violent cramp. Again it came, and, in agony, I clutched my knees to my chest and screamed again. Sweat broke out all over my body. The sun went out. In the blackness, I became two bodies and myself. Two bodies within myself. And I screamed again.

Like Stephen King, eh?
This story is a mix of horror and dark fantasy. Be warned of incest and other adult material! Like a Stephen King novel, I found this story to be confusing at first. Slowly, with explanations from various characters, the plot becomes clear and very intriguing! Author, Terry Sheils, takes readers into a dark world where anything is possible! A compelling tale of evil.

Deserves More than Five Stars
Because nature abhors a vacuum, when Quentin Cottell leaves his sheltered life to seek himself, to fill the void that is his soul, and when the Feathered Serpent, (the Mayan-Aztec God, Quetzalcoatl) goes to seek a human vessel to replenish his spirit, the result is not a fantasy. It is perfectly natural. And naturally terrifying… Is it real or just a dream? Terry Sheils weaves the genres of suspense, fantasy and horror so effortlessly that the reader will be amazed at the talent of this author. As a reviewer who has reviewed several of his books, he has once again managed to entice, enthrall and surprise me with his work. Knight's Tiger will stay with you long after you have read it. An excellent read that deserves more than five stars***** Jewel Dartt: Midnight Scribe Reviews

A Man Possessed
A Review of Knight's Tiger by Larry Lawrence "All a man is is his memory. And that memory is deceptively selective.Sometimes, we even remember what never was. But, if you remember it,actually having done it makes little difference." Dr. Malinalli, from the book. Quentin Cottell is a man possessed. Or is he? Quentin has started to have dreams, dreams of Quetzalcoatl, a Mayan god. Upon his mother's death and learning that everything is willed to him, Quentin sets out from Toronto to search for his own identity. His search leads him to Belize along with his brother, Saul. There they meet their sister, Patty, long thought to be dead. Being drawn to Mayan ruins, Quentin continues to have weird and vivid dreams where reality and visions blend until he can no longer tell which is which. After a few days of this, Quentin wakes up in a hospital where he meets another young lady, Susi. She takes him to Dr. Malinalli, in Cancun, who convinces Quentin that Quetzalcoatl is trying to possess him. It seems that the Mayan god has attempted this before throughout history, and Quentin is the latest victim. Quentin is shown how his life has paralled Quetzalcoatl's, and even how they have similar names. The only way Quentin can save himself is to live his life and make decisions that Quetzalcoatl would not make, thus breaking the hold the Mayan god may already have. Before the ordeal is over, we'll come back to Toronto and back to Cancun. As Quentin fights his siblings for his mother's estate, many secrets will be revealed. Things Quentin has done. Or has he? Quentin's life continues to flip back and forth from what he remembers to what may have actually happened. Like the quote above says, as long as you remember it, does it make it a difference? It will have you wondering about some of your memories and dreams as well. Romance, fantasy, horror, adventure, crime, dark family secrets.. This book seems to have it all. In fact, at times it seems to have a little too much. I did enjoy this book, a roller coaster ride of one man's life and his struggle for his own identity. It just had me rolling my eyes a couple of times when a new plot complication was introduced. However, T. K. Sheils has an intelligent, witty style of writing that keeps you turning the page. I had the most fortunate opportunity to review an unedited version of the book, so I've kept that in mind as I read and rated it as the editing process would only make the book better. Recommended. The Bookdragon Review (ISSN 1527-0157)