Download & Read Free Fantasy Books (ePub)

Fantasy books are a popular genre that is loved by millions of readers around the world. This genre is characterized by its imaginative and magical elements, which transport readers to fantastical worlds filled with mythical creatures, magical spells, and epic battles between good and evil. Fantasy books often involve quests or journeys that take the protagonist on a grand adventure, allowing readers to escape into a world that is vastly different from their own.

One of the hallmarks of the fantasy genre is the creation of complex and intricate worlds. These worlds are often complete with their own histories, cultures, and mythologies, providing readers with a rich and immersive reading experience. This world-building process can be both challenging and rewarding for authors, as they must create a fully-realized universe that feels both believable and enchanting.

Fantasy books also offer readers a chance to explore themes such as power, love, loyalty, and sacrifice in a new and exciting way. By placing these themes in a magical setting, authors can examine these concepts in a fresh and unique way, while still providing readers with a familiar framework to relate to. Whether you're a long-time fan of the fantasy genre or new to the world of dragons, magic, and mythical creatures, there is always a new adventure waiting to be discovered in the pages of a great fantasy book.

Below, we’ve collected all of our free fantasy books, available to download and read for free from Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Rakuten Kobo and Google Books. If you’d like a copy of the book as an ePub, please click on the “Download ePub” button to get the book for free via our partner, ProlificWorks.

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Books featured on this page

 

Bloodstone (The Curse Of Time Book 1) by M.J. Mallon

Book excerpt

Esme had the habit of talking to her imaginary friend, her perfect reflection—Sunflower Esme. She did this whenever her emotions threatened to crumble. Today, I caught her doing it, and without meaning to, I slipped into eavesdropping mode again. I lay on my bed, pretending to sleep, listening to her discussion with her own reflection.

Esme stared at her reflection shining back at her from the other side of the glass. ‘You’re cruel. Stop it. Stop showing me my cuts.’

‘No!’ her reflection screamed.

‘Why did you have to show me that? My healed cuts peeling open, bleeding like I’ve just cut myself.’ I watched as Esme covered her eyes with her hands, trying to obliterate the sight of her cuts. I could see the horror in the wide-eyed shock of Esme’s reflection.

Her distressed reflection shrieked another question, mimicking her voice. ‘Why did you do it?’

‘No one understands!’ Esme wailed, addressing her reflection. ‘I cut to bleed my emotions out. I’m not doing it because I want attention. People say that, but it’s untrue.’

Her reflection replied by shrugging her shoulders as if she didn’t get it. ‘I couldn’t understand why anyone would cut.’

Esme tried to explain, the tension showing in the lines around her mouth. ‘I can’t control my emotions. It’s the only way I can release my pent-up feelings. I have to release them somehow. For a moment, I feel like I’m in charge. Can’t you understand? It’s me deciding—how to cut, where to cut, how deep to go. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop doing it. It’s my addiction. Everyone hates me, but they pretend to love me. Who could blame me for this one failure?’

 

Broken Soul (The Scholar's Legacy Book 1) by Joshua Buller

Book excerpt

The next few days we spent on the road, Hawke dedicated it to trying to teach me the basics of using my power. He had me lock and unlock the padlock he’d given me what must have been a thousand times, each time with a different twist: make the key work, don’t make it work, try to lock it so a different key worked.

It wasn’t long before I was so frustrated I would’ve ripped the lock to pieces if I had the strength. When at last I had had enough, I simply forced the lock so badly that I doubted I could ever undo it and chucked it across the cabin. Even that seemed to please Hawke, though.

“Pushing your limits like that will make you grow more in the long run!” he tried to praise me, but he clearly could tell I was at wit’s end.

“I’m tired of that lock!” I whined. “Can we do something else please?”

When I wasn’t working with that stupid lock, he tried his hand at more basic things. True to his word, he started working on teaching me to read, which was much easier than I had expected it to be. Near the end of our trip, I was almost able to read The Sandwich Man by myself. To be fair, I had heard it so many times by then I probably could have recited it by memory.

What interested me more than reading was the music that constantly played in our cabin. Hawke had told me he paid extra coin to get a carriage with a phonograph inside it. For me, phonographs were practically sacred. Our old master had one, him being a collector of pricey and often gaudy trinkets, and though he did occasionally play it, I was usually forced to clean something far away from him as he enjoyed the music. Getting to experience the beautiful noise firsthand was yet another perk of the freedom I never knew until recently.

 

Bronze Magic (The Sorcerer's Oath Book 1) by Jennifer Ealey

Book excerpt

Driving rain pounded on the roof of Tarkyn’s shelter all morning. At some point, a plate of bread and soft cheese accompanied by a jug of berry juice was thrust into his tent with a brief “Good Morning,” but no one came in. After four days of repairing trees, followed by the discovery of Andoran and Sargon’s duplicity and his run-in with Autumn Leaves, Tarkyn was quite happy to spend the morning in bed.

When the rain passed, he lay listening to the birdsong around him until the gruff voice of the wizard sounded at the entrance to his shelter.

“Come on, young Sire. You can’t lie abed all day. Rain’s stopped. Sun’s out…well, most of the time anyway.”

Tarkyn grumbled to himself, but he was used to being ordered around by familiar retainers, whose lives revolved around his. As soon as he emerged from the bramble patch, Stormaway pounced on him. “I thought you might like to see some little concoctions I am experimenting with.”

Rubbing his face, Tarkyn looked around at the glistening leaves, damp logs and mud underfoot. The air was lively with the chirruping of small birds, cheerful after the rain. The woodfolk were nowhere in sight.

As he began to walk towards Stormaway, the wizard said, “Sire, if you wouldn’t mind, stand on stones as much as possible especially after rain. It reduces the amount of work required to hide your presence, if strangers should happen by.”

The prince was grumpy at being woken up, so he snapped, “Stormaway, I have a whole nation of people to look after my needs. I am sure they can find the time to disguise my footsteps. After all, I have made few demands on them so far and their service is casual, to say the least.” Nevertheless, from then on he did try to minimise the trail he left behind him.

Stormaway led him to an array of small bottles that he had laid out on a tree stump. “Now Sire, stand back a few feet and watch while I have a little dabble with these new potions I picked up on my last trip.”

 

Cradle of the Gods (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 1) by Thomas Quinn Miller

Book excerpt

The meeting room was filled with deep murmuring. Magister Obudar sat at the head of the stone table, having barely touched his dinner and ignoring the mug of spiced ale the human servant had brought right before the room had been sealed and locked.

All the merchant clan's elders sat around the table. They now complained to one another, having tired of complaining to him. At least they all seemed to be able to agree on one thing – the most recent knight justice was going to be bad for business.

Elder Fjorn, the head accountant, was still complaining about losing Bjurst, one of his apprentices, to the knight justice as a personal servant.

“Apprentice Bjurst is my most talented pupil and his skills are sorely needed to enter the tithing. If he thinks I am going sit out there and do the job of an apprentice, he has another thing coming!”

Obudar did not remember the last time he had seen the business end of Old Fjorn's wagging finger or those wiggling eyebrows. At one point, Obudar thought they had come to life and were trying to escape off the old dwarf's face, having tired of his complaining as much as Obudar.

He would let them complain for a little longer and get it out of their systems. He considered the ale again and finally decided it couldn't hurt. Maybe it would settle his stomach. He swallowed a few deep gulps, no need to drink it too fast. A Whispering Rock brew. Good head on this one. He had to hand it to the Brewstons, they were getting better with every season.

He had given them enough time.

 

Dolor and Shadow (The Seidr Cycle Book 1) by Angela B. Chrysler

Book excerpt

At the end of a barren road, a dilapidated stable stood as private as one could hope. Moss and turf more than an arm’s length in height buried the sagging roof. The sound of the city had long since vanished. Here, beside a fisher’s daughter, Bergen lay, his broad shoulders made wide from hours spent wielding a sword. Thoughts of a pair of deep black eyes, an intoxicating laugh, and the glow of copper skin had followed him all the way back to Gunir from Râ-Kedet.

A pain pulled at his chest and he shifted his head to the maid asleep beside him. Her back glistened white beneath a ray of sunlight. Strands of yellow hair flowed down her bare shoulders to spill over onto the furs.

For a moment, he imagined her hair black, and he shook his head to forget.

Her Nordic skin had never seen the unforgiving sun of Râ-Kedet. Had she lived in the desert lands, she almost would have the same glow as Zab—

Bergen pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t lay there much longer. Another time and he would have thought of little else. Another time, and he wouldn’t have permitted the maid rest. Today, he was a fool for trying.

Taking great care to not disturb Helga, or Hilda, Bergen shifted himself from beneath the blankets and pulled on his trousers. His black, shoulder length hair fell forward, blocking the girl from view. For that, he was grateful.

 

Evil Arises (Roland Of The High Crags Book 1) by B.R. Stateham

Book excerpt

We arrived at Odar’s Lair in the early hours just before dawn. We hid ourselves during the day choosing this hour to arrive, knowing the fewest number of curious eyes would see the hooded child at my side. Of course, we were still challenged by Great Wings and their riders. One does not approach a great city without being challenged, especially if a great city such as this lies strategically at the mouth of the High Kanris itself.

Warriors wearing the livery of the royal house demanded to know our purpose in the city. Night or day, in the fiercest of storms or in the coldest of nights, Great Wings and their riders cover the skies above Odar’s Lair in a blanket of protection.

Keeping the princess close to me, making sure she remained hidden underneath the heavy hooded cloak, I dispatched a servant with news I had to deliver to King Olaf immediately. Yet, even as I stood on the windswept tower, I could not help but feel as if eyes were closely watching our every move.

 

Heir of Ashes (The Roxanne Fosch Files Book 1) by Jina S. Bazzar

Book excerpt

I tried to sit and strategize a plan out of there, but every time I'd find myself up and pacing again. My mind whirled and whirled and not a single thought resembled the next. What now? What to do? What could the most powerful black sorcerer want from me?

Where are the missing pieces?

I paced to the door and examined it carefully. I wanted to try Remo's theory, but was afraid to. Still… what if he was wrong?

I walked back to the elevator shaft and examined the door. Again, there was nothing there but a keyhole. The only difference between this one and the one downstairs was that this one was white instead of metallic grey. I tried sliding the door open, and… it gave a crack! I renewed my attempt, excitement pumping me with adrenaline.

I pushed and pushed, the beige, thick carpet helping with excellent traction. And then I was staring at a yawning, dark hole.

The car wasn't there.

 

Heir To Magic (Tales of the Misplaced Book 1) by Adam K. Watts

Book excerpt

“Me?” I was shocked. “But what do you want me to do?”

“If this enchantment is as powerful as Neelu’u suspects,” the queen told me, “simply agreeing to be present on our behalf would give us an edge. But it must be your choice to ally yourself with us.”

I couldn’t say no. I felt I already owed Neelu a debt, and this didn’t seem to be very difficult.

“Okay,” I said.

The queen turned to face me directly. “Mirabella Cervantes Ramirez, do you accept the appointment as diplomat and advisor for the Ulané Jhinura?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” The queen nodded. “The bond is formed. Hopefully, this will cause the spell to act in our favor.”

We could hear footsteps coming from the corridor. The queen moved to her throne and took a seat. Veeluthun’u and the two advisors or attendants who had arrived with the queen stood to one side. I stood with Neelu on the other.

 

Talismans (The Wise Ones Book 1) by Lisa Lowell

Book excerpt

“I think you should meet with Tamaar,” Mohan announced.

“Why?” Owailion almost squeaked in sudden alarm at that prospect as they took off again, leaving Paleone as an active dig site on the cliff.

“First of all, she is an expert in Seals. She has set a double shield around her territory and she can teach you the fundamentals. Also, she guards the southwest coast. That is where most of the ships are met. If anyone has taken the stones as you say, perhaps she has seen them in her forays.”

This sounded well enough to Owailion, at least in principle. He needed some new way to search for the runestones as well as a goal to get away from Paleone as it was coming together. He had made a memory globe of it so he could easily look in and know its progress, but now he needed a new project. Facing Tamaar, Mohan’s mate might sound like a positive step but it also carried a large chunk of intimidation with it.

“Very well,” Owailion agreed.

The Eternals (The Eternals Book 1) by Richard M. Ankers

Book excerpt

Retracing my steps from the previous night, I soon found myself alone in the palace's main chamber. The small table remained set before the throne and had a replenished decanter upon it. Decorum stated that to wait for one's host would be good manners. I had none, so helped myself. It was as though I'd dived into a pool of virgin's blood, as the metallic purity of the crimson liquid slipped down my throat. I had to applaud the Marquis, he had excellent taste.

I was about to take a second glassful when a faint buzzing became noticeable. At first, it sounded like a bee in a bottle which quickly became a hive of such creatures. I was then more than a little disturbed to feel the floor lurch and had to rescue the decanter before it crashed upon the marble. Out of practicality, I decided it best to drain the vessel of anything that could otherwise splash on the floor and go to waste. I gorged myself and was glad I did.

Wiping the blood from my face with a grubby shirtsleeve, I set off for the gardens hoping to find out what transpired. That was not as easy as I'd hoped. The floor lurched from one side to the other and me with it. The last time I'd experienced such sensations I was crossing Lake Lucerne in an annoyingly small pleasure boat with a tedious Viscount's daughter, whose name I'd long forgotten, and her less than ironclad stomached friends. A wind had sprung up and turned our jaunt into an undulating nightmare. I crouched in the keel like a whimpering child – I hated water – and had to be extracted by force. Not a memory I wished to recall nor relive.

 

The Kalis Experiments (Tides Book 1) by R.A. Fisher

Book excerpt

When Syrina woke, it was dark. Triglav perched on the roof above her. That she woke up at all was good news. Going through the Papsukkal Door without an exit plan was a good way to get killed.

She looked up at Triglav, who’d noticed her wake and stared down at her with his giant slow-blinking eyes.

“Good boy,” she said.

She took her time hopping rooftops back to her drainage chamber where she could examine the box. It was a normal key lock, well-made. She jammed a chicken bone into it, one of a handful she’d picked out of the garbage on the way back, and pulled it out again. She did it with a few more and studied the scratches on them. Then she took out a small knife from a tool kit she’d stashed with the naphtha supply she kept there and went to work carving up a passable key. It was time-consuming, but she didn’t want to smash it open without knowing what was inside.

 

The Pale-Eyed Mage (The Dark Amulet Book 1) by Jennifer Ealey

Book excerpt

Sasha ran through the scrub, furious and distressed all at once. Underlying it all was a sense of panic. He had thought he knew at least something about who he was and where he was from, but Jayhan had taken it all away with a few thoughtless words. He had treated the meagre clues to Sasha’s life as an interesting puzzle, casually challenging the scraps of knowledge that Sasha had woven together to create his past. For Jayhan a casual pastime; for Sasha, his whole identity.

As he rounded a corner, a stick rolled under his right foot. He fell heavily, his left leg folding under him. When he tried to rise, his left knee felt jarred but held him. He stood quietly for a moment, his forward impetus broken by his fall. He looked back the way he had come and realised he could no longer see the forest’s edge.

Better go back before I get lost, he thought.

But as he moved his right leg forward, his jarred left knee buckled.

“Ow!” he yelped as he just managed to save himself from falling. He stood with his weight distributed carefully between both feet, feeling unable to move.

 

The Peasant (Fall of the Swords Book 1) by Scott Michael Decker

Book excerpt

About a year after Brazen Bear and I wiped out the Imperial battalion, I went to Emparia City to place a proposal before the Lord Emperor Smoking Arrow.

Our plan had worked. Aged Oak had more influence than I thought. That muckraking clam-digger from Cove persuaded Smoking Arrow that my brother and I could deliver twenty taels per family in Caven Hills taxes. Smoking Arrow accepted the face-saving solution and executed the "rebels" whom Aged Oak had "captured."

The test of our control over the Caven Hills came a year later. Taxes were due. Brazen Bear and I had no trouble collecting the taxes. The natives brought the taxes they owed to us. They'd have licked our balls if we'd have asked. Our problem was depositing the taxes in an Imperial Bank.

 

The Reviled (Dark Fey Book 1) by Cynthia A. Morgan

Book excerpt

Ayla stood watching the darkness long after Mardan disappeared into it, her heart hammering and her cheeks wet with unrestrained tears. She realized how foolish she had been for so long. She understood why he felt so betrayed and she recognized how dangerous the situation was that she permitted to continue for reasons quite beyond her understanding. Had Nayina confided in her that such happenings were occurring to her, Ayla would instantly have put an end to it through any means possible, yet she realized that she had not given anyone who cared about her the opportunity to end the dangerous situation maligning her.

Why?

As she closed the door and stepped back into the interior, her thoughts became more introspective. What was this fascination she had with her tormentor? Why was she so persistent about discovering his intentions for herself without calling on anyone else for aid? What power did he hold over her that compelled her to endure his repeated visits on her own? Was it simply, as she professed to Nayina, the fact that she did not intend to bring anyone under the scrutiny of the Elders, being entirely familiar with the discomfort of such a circumstance? Was it the undeniable appeal of the unknown that sealed her lips to telling others about him and closed her mind to the possibility of harm? Or was there some deeper, darker power controlling her?

 

The Swordswoman (The Swordswoman Book 1) by Malcolm Archibald

Book excerpt

The world was spinning around her, trees and bushes and sea merging into a constant whirl that she could neither control nor comprehend. She blinked, closed her eyes and opened them again. A man's face appeared amidst the confusion; a stranger she did not know.

'Who are you?'

'I am Bradan the Wanderer.' The man's voice was clear and slow.

'I am Melcorka nic Bearnas.'

'Well met, Melcorka nic Bearnas, child of the ocean.' Bradan was crouching at her side, his long face serene. 'You did not eat last night so you must be hungry. Do you remember where you are?' He indicated the still smouldering remains of his fire, with the soft surge of the breaking sea a few yards away and the coracle upside down beside a tangled bramble bush.

She took his arm and pulled herself upright from a bed of freshly-cut ferns. 'You cared for me,' she said.

'You needed caring for,' Bradan told her.

'Don't you want to know where I came from?' Melcorka asked. She noticed that he was a head taller than her, and slimly built, with a long face framed by shaggy brown hair.

 

Wizard's Rise (The Severed Empire Book 1) by Phillip Tomasso

Book excerpt

Mykal could not sleep. Everyone had left his room; his questions unanswered until morning. Lying awake, he used the slices of moonbeams which passed through the window to stare at moving shadows on the ceiling. The rain from earlier had stopped. Outside, he heard crickets, owls, and the occasional gust of wind that moaned as it ran against and then passed the house.

“A wizard,” he mused. His mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts. It didn’t matter how he tried to align them. They didn’t make sense.

The idea was too peculiar for consideration.

No one would explain to him who Galatia actually was. They obviously believed her claims and accepted that he was a wizard. He then recalled her speaking to him through his delirium. He realized now that this was how he had recognized her voice. He could again hear her telling him in soft, soft words to fix himself, to heal his body. Just because she’d said he should, didn’t mean that he had. If anything, she had used magic. She was the wizard. For some unknown reason, she had fooled the others leading them to believe that the power had been his, and that he had indeed healed himself. That thought alone was nothing shy of ludicrous.

 

Assassins (The Fourth Age Shadow Wars Book 1) by David N. Pauly

Book excerpt

Bran’s diminutive figure lay under a magic cloak given to all the Walkers by Aradia, Elf Queen of Phoenicia. Months of planning, hardship, and pain would be rewarded, or he, along with his friends, would die here in Plaga Erebus, the dark kingdom of Magnar. Ash spewed up from the Brunna Hatan, the fountain of hate, where Dark Lightning crackled and hummed, at the top of its metallic peak, just a mile from their position. The ash spread outwards from the terrible fountain creating a gloomy pall that covered the sky, blending day into night.

Dark lightning crackled behind them, flickering all along the borders of Magnar’s realm of nightmares, forming an impenetrable barrier obviating the need for border guards. Nearly all of the Dark Elves and Men comprising Magnar’s army of conquest lay dead upon hate-filled battlegrounds across the great lands known as Nostraterra. Most of the remnants gathered at the Sanguine Templar, the enormous temple complex only miles from the fountain, sacrificing captives from all the races and fueling the Dark Lightning. Others roamed the confines of the land patrolling between the temple and the fountain, guarding against any interference, while Magnar brooded and festered in malice, plotting his resurgence.

Aradia, Elf queen of Phoenicia, driven from her realm into exile in the human realm of Eldora, used her magic to find a small rent in Magnar’s lethal defenses. This allowed the Watchers to penetrate step by step, avoiding all contact with the guardians of this dark kingdom. Horses could not fit through the small stone archway that was the only ingress to this land, and the Elven cavalry waited upon the hills just outside the shimmering fence of death, waiting for their chance to rescue the Walkers upon their success.

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