Warlord of Mars

Far to the north, in the frozen wastes of Polar Mars, lay the home of the Holy Therns, sacred and inviolate. Only John Carter dared to go there to find his lost Dejah Thoris. But between him and his goal lay the bones of all who had gone before.

Imagine, if you can, a bald-faced hornet of your Earthly experience grown to the size of a prize Hereford bull, and you will have some faint conception of the winged monster that bore down upon me. 

Frightful jaws in front and a might, poisoned string behind made my relatively puny long-sword seem a pitiful defense indeed. Nor could I hope to escape the lightning-like movements or hide from these myriad faced eyes which… Keep Reading