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Reviewed by Pennell Paugh
February 25, 2026 (San Diego) -- Alain Lescart, a resident of San Diego, entered his latest fairy story in the San Diego Public Library Author Showcase: The Bloodstones of Power: The Norwesis Chronicles, Book 3.
Gnome Jebeddo digs underground, but his way out collapses. When he wakes, he is in a cave inhabited by an enormous dragon.
The dragon Cobaltwyrm, who befriends Jebeddo, has a shimmering gem that has been passed down to her from her mother. Seeking to understand the gem’s mysteries, Cobaltwyrm searches for the services of a wizard. Jebeddo tags along.
Cobaltwyrm is bitten by a snake and falls unconscious. Trying to find help for his friend, Jebeddo meets a wise mushroom, Spork who saves the dragon. The three of them have adventures, where, one after the other, they meet mischievous spirits, sharp-tongued dwarves, an eagle and her babies …. However, they find the greatest danger comes from within Cobaltwyrm herself.
I recommend this book for children of all ages, including parents and other adults.
Below is an excerpt from the novel:
“That day, after a long day of mining exploration, he [Jebeddo] had ventured too far, meticulously digging a new passage into the depths. But an unexpected landslide had trapped him in his own labor.
“A sharp, heavy, and unyielding stone had fallen on his left leg, cutting off all hope of escape.
“The air filled with thick white dust, suffocating and blinding, burning his lungs. Trapped in his own work, Jebeddo struggled to catch his breath … unaware that something had heard him.
“He knew his situation was dire. Alone in his underground quest, he could expect no help. This deep, unknown mine he had kept secret, hidden from the envious eyes of other gnome prospectors. Consequently, here, in this mystery-shrouded place, no one would come to his rescue.
“Jebeddo tried to stay calm. He remained still, breathing measured, … waiting… waiting ... still… But time itself felt different in these depths.
“How many minutes had passed? How many hours? Days maybe? Here, the torment of hours no longer existed. Only silence remained.
“Then, his mind began to spiral.
“Fragments of memories surfaced. Crucial moments, fleeting images, flashing before him like a fever dream.
“He grew thirsty.
“With a trembling hand, he reached for his waterskin, still strapped to his belt.
“But as soon as he grasped it, he knew … The leather had been crushed, flattened beneath another fallen rock. Only a few scattered drops remained, too little to soothe his parched throat.
“Desperate, he searched his right pocket, fingers meeting a few dried roots.
“Without hesitation, he stuffed them into his mouth, sucking on them hungrily, seeking the faintest trace of moisture. As time passed, his body grew numb. Pain melted into surrender, and a dull terror rose within him.
“In one last effort, he cried out:
“’Help! Help! Is anyone there?’ His voice struck the stone walls, bounced through the dark corridor, then vanished … Swallowed by the absolute silence.
“No one answered...”
Alain Lescart is a university professor from Menton, France. He has made significant contributions to literature, particularly in the fields of French Fantasy and XIXth-century studies. Currently based in San Diego, California, Alain has dedicated his career to teaching and exploring the intricate worlds of this imaginative genre. His love for D&D is also part of his journey.
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