Hunter Hunted Available Today!


Life is a collection of colours when all you’ve known is night.

Sir Walter Merryweather

Eternals exist beneath the Arctic ice, a secretive albino breed. A domain of ruby half-light and absolute night, patrolled by orcas intent on killing all within, Hvit is a city to avoid.
Jean, the last Eternal Lord hates it, as he hates most things, but it is here he must leave his love, Princess Linka. To remain would be her death.
Accompanied by Aurora, the mad Queen Serena’s unwanted daughter, Jean must hunt down his blackmailers before they get to him first.
Hindered and helped by figures from his past, Jean is a Hunter Hunted. Don’t get in his way!

Continuing immediately on from The Eternals and the massacre at Crown Prince Vladivar’s wedding, Hunter Hunted takes immortals to places they’ve never been before. Hold your breath and slip beneath the ice.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.
Richard M. Ankers author of The Eternals Series

Hunter Hunted
Also Available Book 1
The Eternals

New Hunter Hunted Landing Page. #darkfantasy #gothic #sciencefiction

I feel very fortunate that my latest book, Hunter Hunted, the second novel in The Eternals dark fantasy series, has been given its own dedicated landing page at Creativia, my publishers.

Please take a look from the link below. Any shares from the social media side menu would be extremely appreciated.

Thank you for your help


HUNTER HUNTED Creativia landing page.

“Life is a collection of colours when all you’ve known is night.”

Sir Walter Merryweather



As soon as Jean stands in the sun’s ruby light, he and Princess Linka are drawn into a world of darkness. The Nordic royalty – albino Eternals of supposed myth – transport their guests deep beneath the Arctic ice to the legendary city of Hvit.

Their mother, Queen Serena, offers the pair sanctuary, but all is not right. Betrayed by the royal family and almost drowned in an orca hunt, Jean is forced to leave Linka behind. His mood is darker than ever and the world will feel his fury. Renewing old acquaintances, both good and bad, Jean must solve the mystery of who manipulates him and the deepening saga of his parents’ deaths. Now, Jean fights for more than just himself; he fights for love.

Once again, aided and abetted by the increasingly manic Merryweather, and the mysterious beauty that is Princess Aurora, Jean seeks retribution. Both hunter and hunted, trapped between wolves of land and sea, all directions point north. Jean must return to Hvit, the cloying, lavender stench of death, and the never-ending quest for blood.

Purchase Links:

The Eternals

Hunter Hunted

Richard M. Ankers

Author of The Eternals Series

Disdain: A Portrait of a Burdened Man

Jean is Eternal. How he despises it!

Disdain is an art form infrequently perfected
To remain apart, whilst not
Be whispered of in both dread and desire
Shake the feathers of a raven, yet appear a swan
And do it all with a certain panache
A certain dark nonchalance
To be a fly in the proverbial ointment
Amongst the Hierarchical elite, a thorn
Amongst the revellers and waltzers, a stain.
Some men dream of such daring
Others despair and dread it
But the master of the art, its better
Is distasteful of his achievements
Despising both those he frequents
And those he has frequented
None more so than himself
Such is one burdened with absolute disdain
For it is heaped upon one’s own shoulders
And Jean’s shoulders are broad

The Eternals by Richard M. Ankers

The Eternals: An Extract

This short passage is taken from Chapter 15: Majesty. Jean and Princess Linka peruse her father’s Rhineland Palace gardens at night.

I made the odd comment out of politeness, but felt more comfortable when we moved outside into the beautifully featured gardens. 

“I must say this is all in good taste.” 

“Sorry, my love, I was miles away,” Linka replied.

“Oh, nothing, I just mentioned the gardens. They’re magnificent.”

“Thank you, they are of my own design.”

“Really! Then, I’m doubly impressed. I didn’t realise so many flowers could bloom at night. I always thought, with the odd exception, that nature slept when we arose. It is an everlasting regret.”

“Of mine also,” Linka sighed, setting her verdant eyes upon me. “I so wanted it to be like a sunny day over the Rhineland. This was the best I could do.”

“Well, I can honestly say I’m staggered.” I stooped to cup a bell shaped bloom between my pale fingers.

“That is a hybrid.”

“Of what, may I ask?”

“It is part bluebell part tulip. Shake it if you like.”

I didn’t understand what that was meant to achieve but gave the flower a waggle anyway: it chimed. “My goodness, that’s incredible.”

“I like it,” Linka mused. “When the North wind blows straight down the Rhine, I hear the Arctic call in the flower’s tones.” 

I watched as Linka closed her eyes and inhaled so deep I thought she might float away, so much air did she consume.

“What interests you in a land so far away?” I enquired.

Linka opened her eyes and looked into my own a faint trace of water pooling in those emerald depths. “I believe they see the sun for a whole six months without night. Do you not think it magical, Jean?”

“I do, my sweet petal, but it shall only ever be a dream to such as you and I.”

“I suppose so.” Linka gave such a sigh as if she carried all the burdens of our ailing world upon her slim shoulders. 

“You seem even more disenchanted than I.”

“It is nothing, she whispered.” 

Thank you for reading


Richard M. Ankers, author of The Eternals

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PS. Book two, Hunter Hunted, is almost ready to go. I’ll hopefully release a few snippets and teasers over the next few weeks. For now, I’ll just say this: There’s all sorts of blood available to an Eternal. What could you do if you had the…oh, let’s say, blood of an orca running through your veins?

The Nordics: The Eternals

Author’s note: The Nordic Eternals were born from a vision of vampiric albinism, myth and an Arctic homeland no one else could ever know.

They moved with a fluidity I’d never witnessed, so fast as to blur, so slow as to be serene. They led us through a tangle of ruined bodies in a blaze of luminous, predatory perfection; I grinned as Vladivar looked on open-mouthed.

Through eyes even redder than his Nordic guests, he watched all he hated escape him.

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The Eternals by author Richard M. Ankers

Available Now

Eventually (The Eternals)

The Danube pours red
In turbulent waves of blood
The Rhineland’s pulsing vein
It is a symbol, a statement
‘We are Eternal’ it says
‘We are so much more than you’ it screams
With a rabid desperation
It is a cry to be noticed
A wail of remembrance
A promise to rule forever
But every slap of crimson wake
Every undulating moment
Postpones an inevitable exactitude
They are not
And everybody dies

Thank you for reading


Richard M. Ankers, author of The Eternals

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A Carriage Dalliance

The Eternals, an extract.

“Have you missed me, Jean?”

“I’ve seen you on many occasions. This formulated world is too small to miss someone for too long.”

“You know what I mean,” she giggled.

“Not really,” I answered honestly.

“Hm, playing tough won’t work with me. I see through your veneer of disdain.” Moonlight shone through the carriage window and gave a strange look of madness to her eyes as she lent closer.

“There is no veneer with me. My feelings to this life have not changed for centuries.”

Sitting back in her seat, I watched the Marquise ponder my words with the look of a child unable to comprehend a question. 

“Do you really hate it so?” she asked.


“But, why? We have everything our heart’s desire and even when we don’t we simply create it.”

“That is exactly why.” I gazed out of the window and watched the dramatic scenery sweep past.

“You are a most mysterious man,” she chuckled, as she eased her way into the seat beside me. “Beautiful, isn’t it,” she purred into my ear.

“Perhaps, if you like your Alps and Himalayas amalgamated. It just so happens that I prefer the originals.” 

If the Marquise heard me I did not know as her mouth closed about my neck. I squirmed in my seat at the twin pressures she applied, but never enough to break the skin. 

“Now, tell me you still haven’t missed me,” words of honeyed silk poured from her mouth.

“I still haven’t missed you,” I breezed, as our mouths met and, for a time at least, I submitted to her as the toy I once was.

The Eternals / Chapter 1

Thank you for reading


Richard M. Ankers, author The Eternals

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