Into Eternity Paperback Release!

Author’s Note: A very big thank you to all of you who have asked and then waited patiently for Into Eternity the Paperback Edition. I am delighted to say it is now released.
I can only apologies again for the delay. I knew it had been a long time when I clicked on it in Amazon and Etta James starting singing At Last.

Here’s a glimpse:

“So this is what eternity looks like.” Prince Grella 

Queen Serena and her allies have fled the Nordic massacre, taking Princess Linka with them. For Jean, it’s heartbreak; for Merryweather and the abandoned Aurora, far worse. Not even the return of a broken Prince Grella and a dramatic escape from an obliterated Hvit softens the blow of their loss. Tempers flare and the pursuit resumes.

Leaving the Arctic ice behind, Jean and the others must reconcile with both current and past deaths, as they close in on the Baltic home of the hated Duke Gorgon. Here, their enemies gather and confrontation is inevitable.

Under Merryweather’s frustrating tutelage, Jean marches from one infuriating revelation to another, but as the lies unravel and the truth unfurls, he discovers the Britannian is not the fool he’s taken him for. The enigmatic Merryweather appears the key to the greatest mystery of all. But will he ever show his true colors?

In the stunning climax to The Eternals Series, a brooding Jean must do what he’s never done before: place his trust in others. For only at the end of all things, as the sun dies and Shangri-La falls, will Jean know what it means to step Into Eternity.

Into Eternity 

Thank you
Richard M. Ankers / Author of The Eternals Series

Also Available:
The Eternals
Hunter Hunted



Free on Amazon Kindle June 5th – 9th

Get your copy for free and see where it all began.


For Jean, eternity should've meant forever.



VignetteSeries – Universal Shores

Author’s Note: I still may use this, but as it stands have stripped it from an anthology I’ve just about finished.

We opened our eyes to endless night and a firefly vista of twinkling lights. We’d washed up between worlds, realities, time and space, those places parked in dreams and lucid nightmares. Our universe, or one of them, had cast us upon the shores of forever without map or compass.

They’d belittled Chambers, dragged his name through the mud, but he’d been right all along. We weren’t alone, never had been, and everywhere we looked the eyes of others, those ghosts and gremlins, spectres and alternate us, glimmered. They waited for someone to make the next move in that infinite nothingness that spider’s web of intertwining dimensions and burgeoning beginnings and I for one hadn’t a clue what to do.

“Hello, my name’s Grace,” said Grace.

Well, it was a start.

Bubbles of Us.



The end of time; I had hoped for so much more.

A myriad bubbles each a universe, or more, popped in and out of existence in a never ending stream of imperfection. Someone tried so hard to get one right, a perfect copy of the breath it was breathed from, but failed. They always failed. A billion species travelled the eternal night each hoping to be better than the next, each praying for continued life. The irony: not one knew of the other, nor of their failings. These peoples of the cosmos, of the very timestreams, were born to fail. They, we, never stood a chance.

Were we no more than the exhalations of a bored God, who sought to send a little piece of He into infinity? I could not answer that question, but had to believe there was more. If just one of those universes could reach the freedom of the other side, the place I had travelled from, then perhaps, just perhaps, they would flourish in a way we had not.

I’d seen everything on my voyage, the beginning, the end, and all that lay in between and yet still I claimed no answers. Was a life spent dreaming of a better place, a brighter tomorrow, to be snuffed out by an unfelt cosmic breeze? Was I to be no more than another tiny atom of someone else’s dream?

I wiped the tears from my eyes and flicked my sorrow into the space between creation and death. That was my legacy to those who I had promised to free, tears. Perhaps there was no more fitting a tribute to He who had formed us than the sorrow of one knowing he should never meet Him. Not in any of His realties, anyway.

A last glance even though I told myself it was a mistake, and I climbed back into my ship of temporal displacement. The readout said ‘The End of all Things’. How right it was, as I pressed the ruby button for home and those I had left to die.

A Glorious End (Will You Wait?)

 Would you sing for me?
 Would you dance beneath a sobering sky, as the roiling ocean serenades us?
 Would you pirouette as the world crumbles beneath blistered feet?
 Would you laugh at the fading sun; touch the crumbling moon; weep in the jaundiced rain?
 Would you wait for me until the very end through chaos and destruction?
 I would, for you.
 At least, I hope to!
 If the world makes it that far?

 (Image courtesy lardacil on

The Sunken City

Dropping in slow motion through layers of liquid silk, I was drowning in an ocean I’d always hoped would become my home.

Now, as I watched the blue fade to black, I realised the ocean meant more to me even in death than the land ever did in life.
I didn’t struggle, wouldn’t have changed it, just breathed.
The chilling water entered my throat and took me unto it.
Wept tears merged with saline sea and left for adventures of their own.
Down and down.
On and on.
A dropped rock with nowhere to land.
A soul with no home.
But always conscious.
I lost track of time, as I did all light.
There was no up, nor down.
From a direction I can only say was before my eyes, there was light.
A blazing beacon thrust up into the ink-black gloom.
The thing shone with a luminance reserved only for angels.
Little fish swam about it like sparlking jewels and I marvelled as a discarded scale flickered past me.
On I slipped, drifted, then slipped some more.
The light grew brighter until the ocean was alive with all the colours of the spectrum.
And the ocean safely delivered me to a street in between kelp wavering fronds.
Mer folk went about there business completely unaware of me.
I followed the passsge of a little blue fish that like a moth to a flame swam towards the upturned, scaled lights of a building I had seen in ancient books.

At that moment I knew the legends were true and I had reached the fabled, lost, sunken city of New York: my new home.


It was in there somewhere

A word full of black magic

That would save me now

And prevent the tragic

I racked at my brains

As the dragon swept down

Spewing out fire

All over the ground

Then just as I thought

My memory would cost

I remembered the something

That I thought I had lost

So I looked at the dragon

Slap bang in the eye

And shouted to him

Alakazam! you can’t fly

And he tumbled to earth

In one hell of a heap

Now to charge the kingdoms

Magic doesn’t come cheap

(Image courtesy alecan on

The End of it All

Here is a link to the wonderful WordPress site of my friends on deadlyeverafter. The two lovely ladies have multiple publications the latest being Running Home which I have a copy of. Julie (one of the double act) got wind of my writing a Vampire story and has published the first chapter on her site, as I tend to keep my novel writing quiet on here. Feel free to take a look. I hope you like it and get chance to give their site some really welcome attention. Here’s the link

Thanks again – Richard



Oh, crimson spectre of hate
I will not succumb to your nightmares
I am stronger now
No bloodshot eye, no taloned grip
No nightly evil shall attack me
Unravel before one who knows you
Disseminate into the evil whence you came
For you are not welcome
I do not need you to hunt me in the dark
I no longer seek your attentions
I no longer wish to see beneath the cowl
The darkest hours hold no fear for me anymore
For your crimson garb pales in hue
Before the cherry lips of my true love
Now she shall be the one I dream of
And you can haunt the dreams of another
My crimson assassin
My nebulous ghost
My past


(Image courtesy of daniellauglig on


I followed the stream until once strong waters

Became languid like a slowing heartbeat

Until with a creak of ice it was gone

Undeterred, I followed that frosted vein for two weeks more

Long past the point of visual certainty

Where no sentient being had trodden before

I followed a pulse, a dream, a destiny

Ocular fluid began to freeze

My eyes seeing in multifaceted splendour

I did not care for I had purpose

As beyond the next berg could lie redemption

And it did

There rising high out of the snowdrifts

An Atlantis of stark, polar beauty

To look upon its gleaming perfection

Its many towers glasslike, delicate, extraordinary

Melted both the coating on my eyes

And the film of self doubt across my heart

It was far more than a fairytale, a fable

Far more than dream or myth

It was Crystallica