Gary A Nilsen

About The Books

Alfheim

A Broken World. A Hidden Legacy. A Journey That Changes Everything.

Alfheim begins with Timothy Brennan at his lowest point, carrying grief, anger, and questions that refuse to leave him alone. Just when everything feels lost, an unexpected encounter pulls him toward a truth far larger than the life he thought he knew.

As the story unfolds, Timothy is drawn into a world shaped by danger, ancient conflict, and forces that have been waiting far too long to rise again. What starts as personal pain becomes something much bigger, with the fate of Alfheim tied closely to who he is.

This is a Young Adult fantasy story with heart, pressure, and purpose. It is a strong choice for readers who want emotion, mystery, and a hero forced to face far more than he ever expected.

A dark shape suddenly flashed past Timothy’s face, followed by a sickening thud. A bird dropped to the ground, lifeless, after crashing directly into the large glass window of the cafeteria. Shocked, Timothy rushed over and knelt beside it, carefully lifting the bird into his hands without caring whether anyone inside was watching him. It was a mourning dove. He gently rubbed its soft, downy chest while its body rested in the cradle of his palms. There was no pulse. The bird’s small head hung limply to one side, and its tiny black beak remained open.

Timothy closed his eyes and lowered his head, continuing to massage the bird’s chest with his fingers.

Suddenly, vivid images filled his mind. He saw the bird spreading her wings and flying freely toward the trees. The vision was not like an ordinary daydream; it appeared with incredible sharpness and clarity, almost like watching a high-definition movie. The intensity of the experience startled him. His concentration felt stronger and clearer than anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if an electric current had surged through his body.

Timothy quickly opened his eyes and stared at the dove in disbelief. To his shock, the bird opened her eyes as well. Tiny brown eyes blinked weakly as her wings fluttered slightly. Carefully, Timothy opened his hands wider to support her. The dove awkwardly flipped over and stood on her small pink talons. Timothy slowly stood up and raised his hands higher. The bird stretched out her wings to steady herself. Then, with a gentle tossing motion, he released her into the air, ready to catch her if she fell.

But she didn’t fall.

The dove flapped her wings strongly and flew straight toward the trees.

The strange electrical sensation instantly disappeared. Timothy stared down at his hands in confusion.

“What the hell?” he whispered.

For once, he wished other students had been nearby so he could ask whether they had seen what had just happened. He had been completely certain the bird was dead. Maybe it had only been stunned, but that explanation did not account for the vivid vision in his mind or the strange pulse of energy moving through his body. It felt as though he had become a human defibrillator. Then again, perhaps it was better that nobody else had witnessed it. The incident would only have made him seem even stranger than before.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered.

He glanced once more toward the trees. For a brief moment, he thought he saw a girl with light-colored hair standing there, but she disappeared almost instantly. The moment happened so quickly that he wondered whether he had imagined it.

A sharp screech echoed through the forest. The girl hurried toward the edge of the trees, uncertain about what had happened but instinctively knowing something was terribly wrong. The cry sounded like a desperate call for help. Somewhere nearby, there had been injury—or perhaps even death.

When she reached the tree line, she paused cautiously, aware that she was approaching a human place. Near the side of a building, she spotted a boy kneeling on the ground with something held carefully in his hands. Above him, two birds circled anxiously in the sky while the surrounding trees rustled softly, confirming her fears. She prepared herself to sprint across the open grass if the boy was harming the creature. She deeply disliked humans because of their cruelty and carelessness toward nature. To them, killing often seemed meaningless and effortless. The birds would never have raised such an alarm unless one of their own was truly in danger.

Then the boy suddenly stood up, opening his hands and lifting them into the air. A bird flew upward from his grasp.

The girl gasped softly and stepped back in surprise.

Although she had arrived too late to see everything, it was now obvious that the boy had been helping the bird, not hurting it. She knew some humans were capable of kindness, but this felt different—almost unnatural. The three birds flew safely back toward the trees, and immediately the atmosphere of the forest changed from fear to relief and welcome. The alarm had not only warned of danger; it had signaled the possibility of death. Yet somehow, the boy had saved the bird in a way that seemed far beyond ordinary human ability.

The boy slowly turned and looked toward the trees, directly in her direction.

Quickly, she stepped back into hiding.

There was something unusual about him—something important. And deep inside, she realized he was someone she needed to watch carefully.

Alfheim Resurrections

The Fight Is Far From Over. The Cost Is Higher Than Ever.

Alfheim Resurrections takes the story into deeper, darker ground as Timothy Brennan faces the weight of loss, responsibility, and a future that refuses to let him stand still. The battles around him are no longer distant threats. They are personal, immediate, and impossible to ignore. This second book builds with stronger pressure, sharper conflict, and a growing sense that Timothy’s role in Alfheim is becoming impossible to escape. Enemies close in, old dangers rise, and every step forward carries more consequence than before. For readers who enjoy fantasy with higher stakes and stronger emotional depth, this sequel delivers a powerful continuation. It is a story of resilience, leadership, and what happens when destiny starts demanding everything.

Timothy caught Líle’s eye, and immediately a wave of alarm spread through him. Apart from Iúile’s soft crying, the room fell silent—though not silent enough. Timothy noticed it first: a strange sound that did not belong in the woodland realm. He doubted that any mechanical noise had ever disturbed the ancient purity of the forest before, yet there was no mistaking it now. Motorized vehicles were approaching rapidly.

“She is not coming,” Líle warned urgently. “It’s a trap! Everyone, get out!”

Some of the elves rose instantly while others hesitated in confusion. Without wasting another second, Líle flew over the table, wrapped her arms around Timothy’s chest, and lifted him just as the first explosion ripped through the side of the hall. Massive chunks of stone blasted inward, smashing into flesh and bone. Thick clouds of dust mixed with countless fragments of rock swirled through the air while screams and choking cries filled the collapsing chamber.

A second explosion destroyed the far wall, and the heavy acorn-shaped roof began caving inward. Elders and attendants stumbled over one another desperately, struggling toward the exits.

“This way!” Líle screamed as she shoved Timothy toward the newly formed opening in the wall.

Outside, Eoghan and a troop of armed elves were already drawing their bows and aiming at enemies Timothy still could not see.

Then came gunfire.

The unmistakable rapid crack of automatic weapons shattered the chaos, and Timothy watched helplessly as elves fell beneath the deadly assault.

“Fall back!” Timothy shouted. “Take cover! You can’t fight in the open!”

But the roar of destruction drowned out his voice. A third explosion shook the ground, and the hall finally collapsed completely. Flames erupted from beneath the rubble, fueled by the ancient wooden table and chairs.

“Come on, Timothy, we must get you out of here!” Líle cried, pulling hard on his arm.

“No!” Timothy yelled. “We have to help them!”

He tore himself free and ran toward the ruins, dropping to his knees beside the fallen elves who had barely escaped the building. His stomach twisted at the horrifying sight of crushed skulls and shattered bodies buried beneath broken stone. Other armed elves lay motionless on the grass, blood flowing from bullet wounds while their bows rested uselessly beside them.

A short distance away, Aldith lay on his side. Timothy rushed to him. As he touched him, Aldith rolled onto his back, his lifeless eyes staring upward into the trees. Timothy pressed his hands against him, desperately trying to help, but it was already too late. There was nothing left to save.

Elves gathered around Timothy as Eoghan shouted urgently, “Timothy, get out!”

He barely finished speaking before another burst of bullets tore through two elves standing protectively in front of Timothy. Eoghan spun as a bullet struck his shoulder, forcing him to his knees.

“No! Goddamn it!” Timothy screamed.

A furious rage exploded inside him, stronger than anything he had ever felt before. Stepping out from behind Eoghan, he raised his hands. With his mind, he reached toward the shattered rubble of the hall, gathering thousands of stone fragments into a storm of pure energy before hurling them toward the two jeeps racing through the forest.

The deadly wave of debris smashed into the lead vehicle, shredding the armed elves inside just as they aimed their weapons at him. The driver, his chest pierced by flying stone, lost control of the jeep, which slammed violently into a tree. The dead elves were thrown through the air like rag dolls.

The second vehicle continued charging toward them.

Suddenly, Líle appeared behind Timothy, grabbing him and dragging him away from the line of fire. Nearby, Eoghan clutched his bleeding shoulder while signaling the surviving elves to retreat deeper into the forest.

As they flew through the branches, Timothy forced Líle’s arms away from him.

“What are you doing?” he shouted.

“We have to retreat! We weren’t prepared for this!” she answered.

“We can’t abandon them!”

At that moment, Éadaoin burst through the trees, frantically signaling toward the forest.

“They’re attacking the Primal trees!” she cried. “They’re trying to burn them down!”

They raced deeper into the woods. Animals and elves fled in panic in every direction while thick smoke rose from the forest floor. Flames spread rapidly through the underbrush around the bases of the massive Primal trees. One burning dwelling broke loose from high above and crashed to the ground, scattering blazing embers through the air like living sparks searching for more destruction. Higher up the enormous trunk, two elderly elves stood trapped by the growing inferno, clutching each other in terror.

Timothy rushed toward them instantly.

The powerful heat rising from the flames carried him upward effortlessly. He swept over the railing of the burning platform, wrapped his arms around the terrified woman, and lifted her into the air. She screamed in fear as she dangled above the forest below. Behind him, Líle helped pull her husband free while the platform tilted dangerously, seconds away from collapsing completely.

Timothy carried the woman safely to the ground and noticed a dozen armed elves advancing toward the grove of Primal trees. He motioned for the elderly couple to flee, though he was no longer certain anywhere was truly safe.

Then one of Cadwaladr’s soldiers caught his attention.

The elf held an RPG launcher and searched through the trees carefully, as if hunting for a specific target. Suddenly Timothy realized what the elf had found—his own dwelling.

Terrified that Labras might still be inside, Timothy launched himself through the air, drawing the Connleodh sword from its scabbard. He swooped over the elf and struck the RPG just below the grenade, knocking the weapon from his hands. Landing in front of him, Timothy watched the elf reach for the AK-47 strapped across his back. Timothy brought the sword crashing down, shattering the bones in the elf’s hand. The rifle dropped uselessly to the ground. Continuing the motion, Timothy swung upward and smashed the elf across the side of the head. The soldier collapsed unconscious—or dead. Timothy did not care which.

Gunfire erupted again from the direction of the great oak, drawing Timothy’s attention toward Líle.

“Go!” he shouted. “Help them! They can’t destroy the Primals!”

He felt relief seeing her nod before she flew away toward the battle.

Explosions thundered throughout the forest as Timothy flew toward the open field near the oak tree. Smoke and fire surrounded him from every direction, making it impossible to tell what was happening. When he emerged at the edge of the meadow, he saw a line of armed elves rushing toward the great tree. One carried another RPG launcher.

Cadwaladr clearly wanted the great oak destroyed—the very heart of their realm.

Darina and Éabha stood bravely before it, unleashing wave after wave of magical energy to drive the attackers back and ruin their aim.

Timothy sheathed his sword and raised his hands toward the enemy line.

Suddenly, a powerful blow struck the side of his face, throwing him off balance.

Siofra stepped in front of him with a cold snarl.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“You…” Timothy whispered.

A painful twist of guilt tore through him as he realized Líle had been right all along. Everything happening—the destruction, the deaths, the betrayal—was his fault.

“Líle warned me about you.”

“That’s alright,” Siofra replied mockingly. “You’re in good company. Gormflaith discovered the truth first.”

Timothy lunged toward her, but she struck him with such force that his back slammed against a tree, knocking the breath from his lungs. He collapsed coughing.

“I want you all to myself,” she said coldly.

“Why are you doing this?” Timothy gasped. “You’re Sídhe. Cadwaladr kills your own kind.”

“We have an agreement,” she answered calmly. “Once I deliver your body to him, I’ll become queen of the Sídhe. After that, I’ll decide who lives and who dies.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Aww, poor little boy.”

Behind her, Timothy saw Éabha collapse to her knees, the front of her white gown stained crimson by gunfire. The armed elves were closing in while Darina struggled desperately to hold them back alone.

Timothy raised his hand to help, but Siofra seized his arm and drove her dagger deep into his shoulder.

Blinding pain exploded through his body instantly. Timothy arched backward in agony, his head slamming against the tree trunk.

“You can stop this,” he pleaded through clenched teeth.

Siofra grabbed him by the tunic and hurled him violently to the ground. She climbed on top of him and pressed her hand against the wound. Timothy screamed as the poison spread through his body like fire.

The branches above him began to blur and multiply, spinning wildly like a kaleidoscope. Fighting through the dizziness, he swung his fist toward Siofra’s face, but she caught it easily and slashed her dagger across his forearm.

“Nice try, elf-boy,” she mocked, “but you’re no match for me.”

Through his fading vision, Timothy watched Siofra grip the dagger with both hands and raise it high above her head, preparing to drive the blade into his chest.

He wanted to fight back.

But the poison was stealing his strength. His entire body burned with unbearable pain.

And for the first time, Timothy truly believed everything was lost.

Flashback

One Discovery Breaks the Rules of History

Flashback opens with a discovery that should not exist, leading archaeologist Dr. Victoria Heath to historian Dr. Jack Carter and placing them both at the center of a mystery that immediately raises the stakes. What begins in the shadow of an ancient Red Sea wreck turns into a question powerful enough to unsettle history itself.

Pushing for answers, Jack and Victoria are drawn into a chain of events tied to secrets, controlled power, and consequences that reach far beyond the present. 

The story builds through rising tension and controlled momentum, moving between investigation and revelation without losing focus. Each step forward deepens the mystery, tightening the pressure as the truth becomes harder to contain.

Flashback delivers a sharp blend of archaeology, history, and high-stakes suspense, grounded in character decisions and the weight of unintended consequences. It is built for readers who want intelligent thrillers where every discovery carries risk and nothing stays buried for long.

Max pressed his hand nervously against the panel and said, “I hope they didn’t freeze my access.” A moment later, the doors slid open, and they quickly rushed into the elevator car. Jack repeatedly stabbed the button, as though doing so would force the doors to close faster. The two-minute journey down to the cavern felt unbearably long because of the tension surrounding them. As soon as the elevator doors opened, Jack raised his gun and searched for Wells, certain that he had to be somewhere nearby. Finally, he spotted him standing beside the technicians.

“Wells!” Jack shouted loudly.

At once, every movement in the room stopped, and the six men standing near the computer terminals turned around together. Wells looked stunned to see them, especially with Jack pointing a gun directly at him.

“Where’s Brice?” Jack demanded angrily.

“I’m afraid you just missed him,” Wells replied calmly.

“You idiot,” Max snapped. “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what all the resources of our government failed to accomplish for fifty years,” Wells answered confidently. “I’m going to prevent the Soviet Union from ever becoming an effective world power.”

“You’re insane,” Max said. “You can’t possibly imagine the consequences. No one can.”

“We’ll see,” Wells replied coldly.

“Jack, what are we going to do?” Vicky whispered nervously.

Jack slowly lowered the gun. “We have to stop Brice.” Then he noticed one of the technicians pressing a button on the computer panel. “Get away from that equipment!” he shouted.

“What did he do?” Max asked quickly.

“He just pressed a blue button.”

“Damn, he called security.”

“We need to go after Brice right now.”

“You can’t be serious,” Max protested.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Jack replied, “but if security is already on the way, we only have two minutes to decide. Either we let Wells succeed, or we try to stop him.”

“Then go,” Max said reluctantly. “I need to stay here and make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Max, you’re the only one who knows what Brice looks like,” Jack explained. “I’m willing to bet he’s the same man you saw in uniform this morning. Besides, the Mason from 1945 will recognize you, not us. And once we leave, Wells will probably lock you up again.”

Max looked confused and uncertain, but before he could decide, the elevator doors suddenly opened and four armed men carrying automatic rifles rushed into the chamber.

“Shut down the wormhole!” Wells shouted.

“Run!” Jack yelled as he sprinted toward the opening. Max glanced behind him once before following. Vicky ran beside Jack while Reardon slammed his hand onto the emergency shutdown switch just as they entered the plasma barrier. Jack heard one of the technicians desperately shouting at him not to do it.

A mild electric shock passed through Jack’s body while a cool wave of plasma surrounded him. It felt like diving into a swimming pool without getting wet or touching the surface. There was no sense of gravity, making it impossible to tell which direction was up or down. Then everything turned black, and suddenly they were falling.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

A blinding flash of light appeared, followed by the loud sound of a foghorn rushing toward them. Jack immediately jumped to his feet and pulled Vicky up with him. Together, they dove to the side of the road just as three speeding lorries thundered past them. The driver of the first truck leaned out of the window and cursed angrily at them.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked breathlessly.

“Yes… I think so,” Vicky replied shakily, still sounding confused.

“Max!” Jack called out. “Where are you?”

“I’m over here,” Max answered weakly.

“Are you okay?”

“Nothing seems broken, as far as I can tell.”

Jack crossed the road and helped Max to his feet while Vicky stood close behind him.

“You never told me a flashback was this violent,” Max complained.

“It usually isn’t,” Jack replied. “Something went wrong. You’re supposed to walk out the other side.”

“That’s what I thought,” Max said as he looked toward the grassy area beside the road and stepped back a few feet. “Well, this could be a serious problem.”

“What?” Vicky asked anxiously.

Max looked at them grimly and said, “The wormhole is closed.”

He Was Falling Apart. Fate Had Other Plans.

Alfheim begins with a life already under strain. Timothy Brennan is carrying grief, anger, and the kind of pain that makes the world feel smaller by the day. Then one unexpected encounter changes everything, pulling him away from despair and toward a truth far bigger than he was prepared to face.

What follows is a fantasy story driven by pressure, mystery, and discovery. Timothy is forced to confront hidden forces, buried secrets, and a connection to a realm that refuses to stay lost. The deeper he goes, the clearer it becomes that his story was never ordinary.

This is a powerful opening for readers who want fantasy with emotion, danger, and a hero whose journey starts in darkness and pushes toward something far greater.

The Realm Still Needs Saving. This Time, It Demands More.

Alfheim Resurrections returns to Timothy Brennan at a point where the weight on his shoulders has only grown heavier. Loss has changed him. Responsibility is closing in. The fight around Alfheim is no longer something he can question from a distance. It is personal now, and the cost of stepping forward is higher than ever.

This sequel brings sharper conflict, deeper emotional stakes, and a stronger sense of purpose. As enemies rise and old threats refuse to stay buried, Timothy is pushed further into the role he was never meant to escape. Power, duty, and survival collide at every turn.

For readers who want a fantasy sequel with intensity, heart, and real forward momentum, this book builds bigger while keeping the emotional core intact.

History Breaks Open, and Nothing Feels Safe Again

Flashback starts with a discovery that should not exist. When archaeologist Dr. Victoria Heath uncovers a modern gold medallion inside an ancient Red Sea wreck, the find does more than raise questions. It tears open a mystery that reaches far beyond archaeology and into something far more dangerous.

As the search for answers deepens, the story expands into secrecy, buried truth, scientific tension, and rising threat. What first feels impossible soon becomes urgent, as the people around the discovery are pulled into a chain of events that challenges history, logic, and safety all at once.

Flashback is built for readers who want suspense with intelligence, pace, and real intrigue. It is bold, gripping, and driven by the kind of idea that refuses to let go.