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High Fantasy books by author David Burrows. Prophecy of the Kings. Books about imps, demons, dragons, sorcery, wizards
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Prophecy of the Kings Series. High Fantasy. Prophecy of the Kings Series. High Fantasy. Great reviews for Prophecy of the Kings

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Book 1 Legacy of the Eldric

  “I highly recommend this novel to any fan of fantasy fiction.” Great reviews for Prophecy of the Kings

In Legacy of the Eldric he has certainly achieved his aim; the characters are memorable and the plot is fast-paced and exciting. This is solid fantasy; exactly what a fantasy doctor would order for those looking for an enjoyable escape from reality, fans of Tolkien, Hobb and Moorcock will love what they find here. Definitely recommended. 7.8 out of 10

  All in all I was impressed with how much story took place.


Artwork by Winter Editorial Design

Books about imps, demons, dragons, sorcery, wizards

Kaplyn faces a dilemma. In a heart-pounding journey through a bedevilled tower set with traps he must find an ancient Eldric talisman. Everything in the tower seems supernatural. Vastra, a self professed sorcerer, claims the talisman will reveal the whereabouts of the Eldric, a lost race who were instrumental in defeating Drachar and the demon hordes in the legendary Krell Wars. But is Vastra to be trusted? He is manipulative, lusts for power and harbours a secret for which he will kill to protect.

Their journey is fraught with danger and there are indications that demons are crossing the Divide, but are these random events or more worryingly an indication that Drachar’s might is once more on the rise?

Vastra reveals devastating news. He claims to understand the cryptic lines of an ancient prophecy, shocking Kaplyn in an attempt to sway his allegiance. A cataclysm of power will disrupt the very foundation of the worlds and a rent in the fabric of space will allow the spirit of a dead emperor, Shastlan, to cross the Divide. Not content with destroying one world his ghostly gaze now alights on another.

An epic fantasy set in a unique world as dragons, demons and guardian spirits clash. Guardian spirits invade dreams allowing access to the astral realm.  

Legacy of the Eldric. Read about myths, legend, folklore and astral realms in a supernatural epic fantasy. Guardian spirits collide on the astral plane in a supernatural fable. Read the great reviews for Legacy of the Eldric by David Burrows.


Dragon Rider Art work

by Winter Editorial Design

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Book 2 Dragon Rider - “mythical creatures, dragons, demons,  imps, and wizards collide in a tale of demonic fantasy”

Dragon Rider manages to achieve the difficult task of improving on it's predecessor (no mean task) with a sweeping tale of high fantasy that will keep you hooked until the very last page.  Great reviews for Prophecy of the Kings

Dragon Rider moves the story along well and brings the story to a very interesting knife's edge. This novel will whet the appetite nicely for the conclusion in Shadow of the Demon. 7.8 out of 10

What it gave me was the type of story I did not want to put down and when I did, I looked forward to returning because I wanted to know what could possibly happen next. Great reviews for Prophecy of the Kings

Dragon Rider, Epic Fantasy by author David Burrows. Books about imps, demons, dragons, sorcery, wizards

Kaplyn’s mind is in turmoil. His dreams are haunted by dragons and yet dragons are a myth. Terror stalks his nightmares whilst fear plagues his waking life. He stumbles on an enemy army concealed in a forest on Thrace’s border and in terror flees. Yet, upon reaching the sanctuary of Thrace no one believes him, and he and his companions are thrown into the dungeons as spies. One-time allies, Thrace and Allund now seem on the precipice of war. A war that strikingly has all the hallmarks of Trosgarth, the ancient enemy.

Drachar, too, seems implicated. The enemy has been busy, and betrayal and assassination are set to defeat the Prophecy. Priests of Ryoch denounce the Old Ones and the Allund monarchy has been replaced by a council of leaders. Astalus the Thracian court wizard is set the seemingly impossible task of proving Kaplyn’s claims. Is the Prophecy coming to pass and is a Second Krell War imminent? Disaster looms, for the Eldric have gone and with them the only means of countering the growing demon threat.

Fantasy creatures abound as sorcerers, wizards, demons, krell, grakyn and dragons are set to clash in this sweeping tale.

Read about a host of mythical creatures, and fantasy characters; dragons, demons,  imps, and wizards collide in a tale of demonic fantasy. Read the great reviews for Dragon Rider by David Burrows. Lomar dreads that his kinsman’s soul was lost using astral projection. Is that to be his fate?

Prophecy of the Kings Series. High Fantasy.


Shadow of the Demon Artwork by

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Book 3 Shadow of the Demon - "A host of fantasy creatures, death knights and sorcery collide”

The trilogy is a highly enjoyable series of books to read. If you were looking for comparisons in style and substance then the late Professor Tolkien and the wonderful Robin Hobb would come close.  7.8 out of 10

Shadow of the Demon is a triumph of high fantasy, a rich, rewarding end to a phenomenal series and should not be missed. Great reviews for Prophecy of the Kings

Every time our heroes got a foot up, David Burrows knocked them back down, dusted them off and then shoved them under the closest bus. It was truly fun to watch and I enjoyed every tension filled minute of it.. reviews for Prophecy of the Kings

Books about imps, demons, dragons, sorcery, wizards

Events are coming to a head. The battle for CarCamel has ended and Kaplyn is seen as the people’s saviour. Catriona, the Thracian Queen, demands that he leads the army in its fight against Trosgarth, with a dragon at his command. Kaplyn, however, has other ideas. Dragons terrify him, but he cannot fathom why; after all a dragon helped them to defeat demons in the recent conflict.

It is a conundrum, but it is not his immediate concern for Astalus, the Thracian court wizard, using magic, reveals an image of Vastra, now an old man, held captive in Aldrace. Kaplyn’s fears are realised, for if the enemy have Vastra then they must also have the second crystal from the Tree of Life. A permanent gateway to the demon world is now a reality. Kaplyn’s priority must be to recover the crystal at all costs. Abandoning the army, he sets of in pursuit of Vastra, not realising the terrible consequences of his actions, for the full horror of his links to Shastlan’s shade are about to be revealed.

As to the Dwarves, no one has heard from them, another blow as allies seem few. Then again who would want to face Death Knights?

Prophecy of the Kings is a Gold Award Winner on 2010 and was Book of the Month Easy to read and a page turner.

Read about a host of fantasy creatures, and fantasy characters; dragons, demons,  imps, and wizards collide in a tale of demonic fantasy. Mythology, myths and legends, and death knights. Read the great reviews for Shadow of the Demon by David Burrows. Well written fantasy.

Read a sample chapter here

The Prophecy of the Kings Trilogy - "A high fantasy with imps, demons, dragons and other fantasy characters "


The cracking of dry branches snapped Lars from his melancholy. Daydreaming was dangerous, especially in a wood with night fast approaching. Lars’ staff came up automatically and he turned to face the potential threat. A man crashed through the thick undergrowth; a cudgel raised in his right fist. His wild eyes screamed silent hatred as he bore down on the big man. Lars was a fighter, and his instinct took over. Other men might have blocked the cudgel’s downward stroke, but Lars knew that time was crucial in a brawl. Without thinking, he lashed out with a straight-arm blow, aiming the staff’s end at the man’s throat, using the extended reach to his advantage.

The combination of the man’s momentum and Lars’ blow snapped his assailant’s head back, jarring Lars’ arm. His assailant’s legs buckled, and he fell to the woodland floor, a scream impossible through his damaged throat. His eyes bulged and his hands went to his windpipe as he thrashed for air, grunting with the effort to breathe. Turning, Lars sought new enemies, and, to his chagrin, he saw several shapes moving through the trees, forming a ring of ragged-looking men around him. Seeing their comrade disabled so quickly the men were clearly cautious, advancing only slowly and trying to let others lead the attack, but greed and poverty drove them on.

“Surround him,” one of the men shouted.

Lars cursed his earlier lapse of concentration. A foolish mistake he should never had made. Slowly he turned, assessing the men before him, his staff held out, ready to counter an attack. They were a mixed bunch. Dirt made their appearance even more threatening. A smell of unwashed bodies assailed Lars. He knew that these were desperate men. Their clothes were torn and badly patched in places. All were armed with an assortment of cudgels, knives and two of them had swords.

“Move in together,” the man who had spoken earlier demanded. He was clearly their leader. He pointed his sword towards Lars but did not advance himself. Lars kept turning, but no one moved. His eyes kept straying to the leader’s sword, speckled with rust, the edge chipped and blunt. If the blade did not kill him, blood poisoning would. Focus: watch their shoulders and eyes, not their weapons, he thought.

The wounded man’s thrashing became wilder. Others glanced down at him. His face had turned blue, and his tongue protruded as though seeking to absorb the air he so desperately needed. A few final kicks and then he was still, his body contorted in the final spasm.

“He’s killed Ballan,” one of the shorter men said unnecessarily. The others grumbled and then one man shouted a curse, leaping forward, his knife raised. Lars’ back was to him, but hearing the shout and cracking of twigs, he spun around, sweeping the staff in an arc. The man ducked back as the staff whistled by his head, his eyes instantly turning from anger to fear. Lars stabbed down at him, but he was already scuttling back out of range.

He’s one man! Everyone, attack him!” their leader shouted.

“You’ve got a sword. You attack him,” a man sneered.

Lars stared into the leader’s eyes, daring him. He was as tall as Lars was, but lean. His nose must have been broken many times and so odd was the shape that it was barely recognisable. The leader waved at Lars with the sword’s tip. “After three,” he said. “One, two—three!” He screamed, lunging forward.

Lars threw the staff forward, allowing it to slip through his fingers until he judged the length right. He grabbed the staff before the end left his hand and punched at the leader. The staff jolted as it cracked into his face, but he was already turning, using all his strength he swung the staff in a wide circle. Lars was strong and he put all his effort into the blow. The wood whooshed through the air and his attackers rocked back on their heels, their eyes wide with fright as they were brought to a sudden halt.

The leader fell back, cursing and clutching his head in his free hand. When he removed his hand to inspect it for blood, there was a neat red circle on his brow where Lars’ blow had connected.

“Anyone else who moves, dies,” Lars announced. His heart hammered and he felt blood rush to his face. These men were bullies and, no doubt, cowards, but their numbers might overcome their fear.

He started turning again so he could see them all. “Kill him,” a man wearing a fleece urged. He spat at Lars but made no move himself.

“He isn’t worth it,” another man said. He was fat and bald. One eye looked infected and was weeping, making it look like he was crying.

“He looks as poor as we do,” the man with the fleece commented. “I doubt if he has any coin.”

“We are not quitting now!” the leader said. “He killed Ballan!”

“What do you care? You hated him,” the man with the weeping eye growled.

The leader smiled. Black gaps made his teeth seem more uneven. “Not until this fat pig is dead,” he spat.

“We need a bow,” one man said.

“Then go back to the camp and get one,” the leader raged. The man did not need further urging, and ran off between the trees, disappearing in an instant in the growing gloom.

Lars muttered a prayer, “Slathor, give me strength!”

“What did he say?” one of his tormenters asked.

“How the Kalanth do I know!” the leader roared.

Lars realised he had to do something before the other man returned with a bow. Turning, he tried to decide which man might break if he charged him. He assessed each man in turn and soon found a candidate, a short man with wild dancing eyes and an ugly, uncaring face. His opponent held a sword awkwardly but if Lars had judged correctly, the sword would not matter. The man was also closest to the tree line, and if Lars could make it there then he could escape into the darkness.

His mind made up, Lars roared, leaping at the man, and swinging his staff. He had selected his target well, but, instead of fleeing, the man stood his ground, petrified by the suddenness of the larger man’s attack. Lars swung his staff, its length keeping him from the other man’s sword. The staff cracked against the other man’s temple sending him flying. The blow was well timed, and its shock raced along Lars’ arm.

Not stopping, Lars leapt over the body as two men sought to cut off his escape. Now that the action had started, adrenalin conquered the other men’s fear. With shouts, they were all converging in on the big man. Lars flicked the staff out at the man on his right, missing his opponent who dodged to one side. It slowed him, but already the man to Lars’ left was closing the gap.

“He’s killed Arland!” Lars heard from behind him. “Take him alive!”

Something heavy slammed into Lars’ back, catching him between the shoulder blades and knocking the breath from his body. Lars stumbled forward, his attack on the man to his left failing as his loss of balance threw off his aim. Lars gasped for air as the man to his left grabbed his staff but, rather than slow down, Lars let go, abandoning the weapon. The other man, not expecting to take the weapon so easily, lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground.

Someone from behind Lars tumbled into his legs, throwing Lars to the woodland carpet. Another man lashed out with his cudgel, striking Lars across the shoulders. He gritted his teeth and grabbed a handful of dirt in agony.

“I want him alive,” the leader roared.

Twisting, Lars threw one man off him, but the others had caught up. Fear of their leader stopped their blows. Lars lashed out with his fist, catching one man under the chin, and throwing him backward. Someone grabbed his arm, and a man threw himself across his legs. Roaring his defiance, Lars threw out another punch. Then, Lars yelled as his hair was grabbed from behind, forcing his head back. A knife pricked his flesh, and a thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. Lars stilled.

“Don’t move,” the man with the knife threatened. His breath was foul and combined with the stink of his clothing was almost overpowering.

Cursing, the leader ran at Lars and booted him in the face. Lars rocked back on the ground while the men struggled to hold him down.

“You killed my brother,” the leader screamed, kicking Lars in the ribs. “Tie his hands and feet. I will make you suffer,” the leader continued, breathless with rage, his eyes bulging and spittle running down his chin.

The men obeyed and shortly Lars could not move. “Pick him up and carry him to the camp,” the leader ordered.

It took three men to lift Lars, whilst two more picked up the body of the short man Lars had killed. Lars could see the bruise on his temple where he had crushed his skull.

Lars tried to escape, and his efforts caused the men carrying him to let go. He made it to his knees before the leader stood over him, his sword aimed at Lars’ heart. “Tonight, you will die,” he said. “Slowly—and before you die you will beg me for mercy, but do not expect to receive any.”

Lars summoned all his strength, trying to break his bonds. He must not die. He had to find his wife and son. With a roar of rage, he threw every bit of his strength against his bonds. His muscles bunched and, for the briefest moment, he felt his bonds give.

The pommel of the leader’s sword crashed against his temple, blackness engulfed him, and he knew no more.