Blog Highlight: Free Ebooks and Those Responsible for Them

This weeks blog highlight is great blog run by the fabulous Ms. Nicole Kuhn and it is a great place to find that next great read for free!

 

A little about Ms. Nicole’s blog:

“I will put out daily lists, different genres of free Kindle and Nook books. If there is a genre you like, let me know. I’ll find them.
Authors, you can post your free promotions. Offer free copies in exchange for reviews, and post about giveaways, contests and other reading related blogs, topics, whatever! Share my links with your friends so they may also take part in free books! The more the merrier. Share my links with other authors! !”

 

You can find this blog and its freebies here —–>http://nkuhnebooks.blogspot.ca

 

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Q & A with Samantha Anderson

This week we have the lovely Samantha Anderson up on the chopping block 🙂

*****

SamanthaAndersonWhat would your bio say?

Why is this always such a hard question to answer? I can write books but when it comes to telling about me, I clam up. I would like to think that it would say I was not afraid of facing obstacles. That I never give up on the things I believe in, and that I love recklessly and whole-heartedly. It would probably also say that I’m an obsessive fan-girl over vampire shows on TV.

When did you start writing and why?

I actually started writing when I was younger. I was raised in an overly religious home and my creativity was stifled by parents that thought what I wrote about was too taboo. I didn’t actively start pursuing a writing career until I was in my early twenties and it was because I got bored of reading. I would put a book down and 90% of the time think that I could do better. I wanted to write the stories that I wanted to be reading.

If you are a parent how does being a parent affect your writing and writing habits? Or does it?

It hasn’t affected my writing style in the least. I have two daughters who are 12 and 9 and they know that there are certain things in my writing that they are not old enough to read. My oldest has taken an avid interest in writing so we collaborate on short stories a lot. As far as habits though, nights are my writing time. After the girls are in bed, I put in headphones and start creating. It’s difficult to focus during the day because of constant interruptions.

 Who is your favorite author and why?

I cannot say I have an overall favorite. My reading tastes have changed as I’ve grown older. There is a piece of me that loves Sherrilyn Kenyon and Lori Foster for the best semi-trashy novels they write, but I also love J.K Rowling and Michael Crichton for the way they suck you in to a story. The first author that comes mind when asked this is George R. R. Martin for the Game of Thrones series. I was only able to get through book 3 simply because I was so emotionally and mentally drained by the time I finished, I couldn’t pick up another one. That’s the kind of writer I want to be. The one that makes you feel something, makes you so invested in a story that you physically ache over it.

What do you hope to accomplish with your writing?

Before I started writing, books were my escape. Coming from a less-than-perfect childhood, they helped transport me out of whatever I was in, into a new world full of possibilities. The same has happened with several stories I’ve read in my adult years. That’s what I want. To meet someone someday that says that my stories helped them in some way. Helped them cope, pulled them away from the harshness of reality.

Traditional or Self publishing? Why?

Can you insert a nervous chuckle here? When I wrote my first novel I went with self-publishing because all I wanted was to have a tangible copy of my book in my hands. I wanted to put it on my mantle and say “Yea I did that!” However, when I self-published, I about gave up when it came to formatting because I was solely on my own. I have always said that most indie authors are one 6-figure check away from selling out. I love the control of self-publishing. I like being able to say how and when etc. but I have no time for marketing. I had thought that if I went through a traditional publisher that I wouldn’t have to do anything but write. I quickly learned that wasn’t the case. I have no clear-cut choice when it comes to publishing. I will continue to self-publish because it works for me currently. However I know if I was approached by a traditional company and could reasonably make a living from writing, I would go that route as well.

 Talk about your journey into the wide world of publishing.

I wrote fan-fiction online for years. I honestly thought that it would be all that ever came of my creativity. It was a hobby and that was all, even though it wasn’t. I lived and breathed writing. I gave all the excuses of not being able to do a novel etc., and then a fellow fan-fiction writer named Mike, published his first novel. I was so happy for him, but to be honest, a bit peeved too. I then started the task of questioning Mike incessantly about the process and found out an average novel was only about 60,000 words. I totaled up all the fan-fiction pieces of short stories I’d written in three years and had almost 300,000 written words about one character. 60k didn’t seem that daunting after that. The writing that had seemed daunting was the easy part when I got to formatting for print and e-book. I spent weeks trying to get everything lined up right and managed to meet a few people through Twitter who recommended wiping all existing formatting and starting from the beginning. It was a breeze after that. I used Createspace because I had Mike to hound for help if needed. Smashwords proved to be more daunting as they were pickier about formatting to get into their premium catalog. My second novel though, once I’d gone through all the headaches with the first, only took about a week to push through CreateSpace and Smashwords because of everything I learned the first time.

Tell us about your book (s)

The first novel is The Devil’s Angel and chronicles the life of vampire Devrynne Kaine. It is told as a series of flashbacks, brought on as she is being blackmailed in present day for killing the vampire who turned her. She is owned by Lucifer, controlled only by him and trying to balance the task of being the vampire she now is and not losing the humanity she once had.
My second novel is the sequel to that called The Devil’s Apprentice. This is a continuation of Devrynne’s life as she is put to the test again, more choices, new battles faced. You know, all the things a good sequel is supposed to be!

I am in the writing process for the conclusion of Devrynne’s trilogy which is The Devil’s Downfall. I won’t give anything about that one except that nothing is what it seems. Characters you think you know from the first two novels will surprise you and show you even more facets of their personalities.cover arts

What inspired you to write these books (or in this genre)?

Devrynne’s character has always been the easiest for me to write, ever. It started from a photo of Kate Winslet and has fit like a glove ever since. I wanted to write a story where your main character wasn’t your typical “good” person. She’s not a hero and yet you find yourself rooting for her. I also enjoy writing the many faces of the devil. I have always been fascinated with the WHY are people good or bad. Being told as a child that the devil is bad wasn’t enough for me, I wanted to know why. Simply being told he disobeyed wasn’t enough for me either. I wanted to put a personality with it, an understanding of why he is that way. It was only after I’d published The Devil’s Angel that I realized the sub-context of things in the book that paralleled in my own personal life and realized that it was more about the lengths a woman would be willing to go to get the life she wants, to get rid of the toxic people in her life and stay loyal to the ones that have loved her even if in unconventional ways.

 Tell us why we should love or hate your main character?

I think there are pieces of Devrynne that everyone can relate to. I think we don’t generally want pity and she knows that her life is a mess because she made it that way. She owns the fact that all of her decisions have led her to where she is. That alone is the reason why I love her. I think the audience will appreciate that but also hate her because like any true woman, when it comes to love, we don’t always learn from our mistakes.

 Do(es) your book(s) have a soundtrack? 

They do! For The Devil’s Angel it would be as follows: Rev 22:20 by Puscifer, Like Suicide by Seether, Pain by Three Days Grace, Dance With The Devil by Breaking Benjamin, Lucifer’s Angel by Rasmus, Broken Dreams by Shaman’s Harvest, Not Meant To Be by Theory of a Deadman and Get Stoned by Hinder.
For The Devil’s Apprentice it would be as follows: Innocence by Halestorm, You Stupid Girl by Framing Hanley, Almost Told You That I Loved You by Papa Roach, Curly Sue by Takida, Seven Devils by Florence + the Machine, This Is War by 30 Seconds To Mars, Fix Me by 10 Years, Blurry by Puddle of Mudd and Control by Garbage.

These are all songs that fit with the story in some way if you really listen to the lyrics, or are songs that inspired certain scenes or tones for the novels. I have not completely comprised a soundtrack for the final book of this series, but have written a great deal of The Devil’s Downfall while listening to Requiem for a Tower by Clint Mansell on repeat.

*****

Thanks so much for joining us Samantha! You can follow Samantha on her website and find the links to where her books are sold here.

COVER REVEAL!! (And Contest!): For Everly

COVER REVEAL POLL + GIVEAWAY!

 

For Everly

A New Adult Contemporary Romance

by

Raine Thomas

Raine Thomas is so excited to share the new cover of her upcoming New Adult novel, For Everly. There’s only one problem: she can’t decide which it will be!

After commissioning two talented cover designers, Tonya Dsigns and Allie B Designs, to send her concepts, Raine fell in love with their different styles. Now, she wants readers to decide which she’ll use as the final cover.

In a fun spin on Ye Olde Cover Reveal, Raine has set up a poll so readers can vote on the cover. The winning design will be announced on Monday, May 6th. All voters can enter to win a signed paperback of For Everly after its release on May 27th using the Rafflecopter form below.

First, check out the book blurb and the beautiful covers (shown in no particular order). Then cast your vote and enter the giveaway. May the best cover win!

Blurb

Determined to overcome a dark and tragic past, college student Everly Wallace is only months away from earning her degree in physical therapy. She’s consumed with school, caring for her ailing grandfather, and figuring out how to pay the next bill. The last thing she wants is a relationship, but it just might be the one thing she needs.

Major League pitcher Cole Parker hasn’t fought for anything in his life. He went from a privileged upbringing to a multimillion dollar All-Star career. But when his pitching shoulder starts to give him trouble at only twenty-four years old, he faces the possibility of his injury becoming public knowledge and costing him everything.

In a desperate bid to save his career, Cole decides to hire someone to treat his injury, someone who will keep things off the record and out of the media. He finds the perfect solution in Everly. As mysterious as she is beautiful, she provides an enticing distraction from his pain. Soon, physical therapy is the last thing on his mind.

When an act of betrayal brings the truths they both fear to light, Cole will have to fight for the first time in his life…not just for his career, but for Everly’s love.

 

Coming May 27, 2013 by Iambe Books, LLC

Add it to your to-read list on Goodreads!

COVER #1

For Everly Cover 1

COVER #2

 For Everly Cover 2

 

CAST YOUR VOTE!

Due to a technical difficulty I cannot get the poll to work here on the blog however you can hop on over to Raines blog and cast your vote there! 🙂 Thanks so much for understanding!

rainetAuthor bio: Raine Thomas is the award-winning author of a series of YA fantasy/romance novels about the Estilorian plane, including the Daughters of Saraqael trilogy and the Firstborn trilogy. Her upcoming release, For Everly, is a New Adult Contemporary Romance. She is a proud member of Romance Writers of America and is a contributing blogger to The Writer’s Voice. When she isn’t planning weddings, writing or glued to social networking sites, she can usually be found on one of Florida’s beautiful beaches with her husband and daughter or crossing the border to visit with her Canadian friends and relatives.
Ways readers can connect with Raine:
Twitter (http://twitter/Raine_Thomas)
Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/rainethomas)
Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5053436.Raine_Thomas)
Pinterest (http://pinterest.com/raine_thomas/)
Linkedin (http://www.linkedin.com/pub/raine-thomas/53/111/bb3)
Website (http://rainethomas.com)
Blog (http://RaineThomas.com/blog/)

ENTER THE GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

From the Shadows (from The Shadow Chronicles) BLOG TOUR!!

Poster 26

 

 

Synopsis:

Shapeshifter Juliette Singleton left her home to escape the oppressive concern of her family…and the memory of being raped. She finds little solace, however, as her sleep is plagued with nightmares, forcing her to re-live the brutal assault over and over again.
Race Covington, a chimaera, thought he was the only one of his kind. Then he reunited with Juliette, whom he had known as a child, and discovered to his delight that he was not alone after all—and the both of them discovered that they were destined to be together.
Meeting her mate leads Juliette to open up about the attack and begin the healing process, while Race believes meeting his means it is definitely time to escape the employ of a dangerous and vindictive vampire. They decide it is time to start their lives over again—together—but going home proves to be harder than they expected when they are forced to confront a dangerous foe neither could have ever imagined.

 

Excerpt:

I must have been more tired than I thought, either from my virtually sleepless nights or from having to expend so much energy to stay a dog, because I fell asleep soon after he turned the TV to a football game. I wasn’t much into watching the game when I’d rather be playing it, so I’d closed my eyes thinking I’d get up and sneak out when I heard him go to the bathroom.

Next time I opened them, however, the TV was off and I was alone in the room, the only light coming from the parking lot lights shining

From the Shadows

through the blinds on his windows. Thankful that my energy hadn’t run out while I slept and caused me to automatically revert to my human form (as I knew sometimes happened to an exhausted shifter), I raised my head and looked at the clock on his cable box, noting that it was just after midnight. Shit, I thought sourly. None of the busses would be running at this hour and I had no money for a cab—how the hell was I going to get back to my hotel room?

Obviously I had no choice but to walk, but if I did so as a dog I chanced being picked up and taken to the pound, which was definitely not a situation I wanted to end up in. My only other option, as I saw it, was to go in human form…and to do that, I was going to have to steal some clothes. I felt bad about having to turn thief on someone who had only been nice to me, but there was nothing else for me to do. Stepping down off the couch and stretching, I then walked down the little hall and into the bedroom. On the wall directly in front of me was a closet, to my right the bathroom, and to my left was a large area with a bed and a desk. I didn’t see a dresser so it appeared that all his clothes were in the closet.

Glancing in the direction of the bed, I listened for a brief moment to the sound of the stranger’s steady breathing. He was sound asleep. I phased back into my human form and stepped to the closet, sliding the left-hand door open as soundlessly as I could. I grabbed an OSU hoodie off its hanger and quickly pulled it over my head. Now I needed pants. A second’s glance told me that the side I had opened was all shirts, so I slid the door closed and stepped over to the right. Opening that door, I found the matching bottom and took them off the hanger. After sliding the door closed again, I stepped into the sweatpants as quickly as I could, tightened the drawstring and knotted it so they wouldn’t fall down, then turned and walked cautiously out of the bedroom.

I paused when I reached the front door, wishing I could have thanked the man for being so nice to me. But it was impossible, I thought with a sigh, and reached up to turn the deadbolt.

“Were you really going to leave without even saying goodbye?”

******


Are the characters in your book based on people you know?

Only Juliette’s animal form, which is based on a dog I used to have.

 

What books have influenced your writing?

There are so many different books, I don’t think I could name just one. However, different genres have certainly influenced my writing. Obviously paranormal romance is one of them—I love to read all the romances. Mysteries and thrillers are also among my favorites and they’ve influenced me as well.

 

Do you have a critique group/beta readers, or do you self-edit?

I self-edit as I am writing, but I do also send the book out to a few betas to get other opinions on it. I’ve also discussed certain scenes with my author friends and every now and then I’ll post an excerpt on my Facebook author page or my blog to see what readers think.

 

Would you be willing to have one of your books made into a movie? Which one?

Though I would love to have any of my books made into a movie, of the three I’ve written so far, I honestly think Fire Born would be the best cand

idate. And while the big screen would be the ultimate dream come true, it could be a made-for-TV or made-for-cable movie and I’d still be satisfied.

 

If you couldn’t be an author, what would your ideal career be?

There was a time in my life that I was determined to become a police officer. It was my dream. Then declining health issues (I’m asthmatic) forced me to admit that actual police work just wasn’t going to work out for me. So I thought I’d be a lawyer, but frankly couldn’t afford to go to college for four years, let alone eight, and wasn’t about to put myself in debt for life by taking out insanely large student loans. In the end I chose to set my sights on writing about law and order, because through all of those other dreams, writing had always stayed with me.

 

Will you have a new book coming out soon?

Not very soon, but I am making notes and planning my next project.

 

Do you prefer chocolate or vanilla?

Chocolate, hands do

wn.

 

Pepsi or Coke?

Actually I prefer Code Red Mountain Dew, but if my only choices are Pepsi or Coke, then I go with Coke.

 

Are you a cat person or a dog person?

Both. Right now I own four dogs, but I enjoy cats too. My dogs—two Siberian Huskies and two Chihuahuas—are the only children I have at the moment, so they get spoiled.

 

If you gave your characters an opportunity to speak for themselves, what would they say?

Some of them are probably wondering when it’s going to be their turn to be featured in a story. Some may also whisper in your ear that I’m just a little bit crazy, given all the ideas that pop into my head.

 

About the author:

cm

Christina Moore proved she had a talent for writing fiction in grade school when a story about a dinosaur so interested her teacher that it was brought to the principal’s attention, and she was highly praised for her creativity. Although she doesn’t recall the details of that childhood tale, the feeling of accomplishment stayed with her throughout her life. Deciding in her teens to indulge in her passion for storytelling, Christina delved first into fan fiction, which she has written off and on for several years. Her mother said to her when she was just 14 that she “could write this stuff,” and a long-time friend once told her she had the talent to be a professional writer; so after procrastinating a lot longer than she should have, she put her mind to writing something she could sell.

 

After working on her first novel during NaNoWriMo 2010 and editing and revising the story throughout the next year, Christina made her professional debut in January of 2012 with the paranormal romance Chasing Shadows, followed by an erotic short story entitled The Beauty in the Black Room and the romantic suspense novel Fire Born, both also published in 2012. Currently she resides in Ohio, where she has lived all her life.

 

When not allowing the characters in her imagination use her to tell their stories, she enjoys a great movie, good times with family and friends, and being “hu-mom” to two Chihuahuas and two Siberian Huskies. Christina always keeps a notebook handy to jot down ideas for future stories and is currently working on her fourth novel.

 

Links:

Blog: http://diaryofanindieauthor.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristinaMoore.Author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Writergirl79

Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Christina-Moore/e/B008MMNRZ8

Surrender Book Blitz!

SurrenderBlitzBanner

About the Author

Rhimaybe1

 

Rhi is the weird one in the red lipstick. She writes Young Adult Fantasy, Dystopian, Urban Fantasy and sometimes Contemporary. When she’s not writing she’s reading minds, singing karaoke, and burning cookies. You can find her sipping iced cappucino at http://www.yafantasyauthor.com

 

 

About SURRENDER:

How far would you go to save everything you ever loved?

Kaliel was warned about her love for the Ferryman. One day he will marry the land and leave Avristar forever. She doesn’t listen, and because of what she is– a Flame– one of nine apocalyptic weapons, she sparks a war. In a desperate attempt to save her home and her love, Kaliel tries to awaken Avred, not knowing she may have to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (first one)

The banks of the river were sloppy and full of muck. Krishani watched as clumps of mud were drenched by more of the murky waters, eventually forcing the clumps to fall into the river entirely. He never knew where he was when he dreamed, but they always began like this, in the dead silence, in the din of places he had never been before. The only place he had ever seen rivers were in his dreams, and the only time he heard about rivers was when the brothers talked about the Lands of Men. This river was no exception. He waited for the other thing he would see, the things he had seen since he woke up a child in a forest, abandoned by the men. He remembered they smelled like sweat and firewood. It was a musky male smell that the elders in Avristar never possessed no matter how blistering hot it got in summer.

Water babbled as it rushed over the rock bed of the river. Little pools of ripples fluttered across the surface. Krishani grew anxious. He hung there, seeing nothing but clumps of mud let go of the banks and follow the ride of the winding river. He peered down-stream and saw it curve and curl as it cut through the tall spruce trees on either side. Part of him wanted to wake up, but part of him hated the reality he would wake up to. Days of careful planning, of menial tasks, nothing like what he endured during the rites; this was much more intense. He was always aware during his dreams, as though he was really there, watching from the shadows. He turned his attention upstream. There was a body floating face down, moving towards him. A white shirt swished around the body and clung to tanned skin underneath. Sandy blond hair covered its head and bare ankles floated up out of the water. Krishani moved instinctively, throwing off his cloak, planning on diving in after the body, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Krishani looked to his right and saw nothing but the river bank. A tall man with his back turned came into view, plodding along the Surrender ebooklgbanks with body language that said he was equally disappointed. The floating body belonged to a child, maybe nine or ten.

Krishani hung his head and watched the body float downstream, knowing there was nothing he could do to help. The boy was already dead.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (second one)

Krishani tried to turn away, escape into the courtyards, but as the dance floor cleared, Kaliel came into view. She was a vision. She wore a deep purple linen gown that clung to her body and a purple mask edged with silver tear drops. She twirled with the last of the kinfolk and her white hair danced around her. She smiled and laughed, but when she saw him, she stopped, letting her hands drop from those of the kinfolk. She nodded for them to go to the tables and ran her hands down her dress, trying to smooth out imaginary wrinkles. As the song hit a sorrowful lull she stepped towards him.

“Krishani.” She sounded surprised and confused.

Krishani searched the crowds beyond her for Benir. The scent of her was like freshly-cut herbs and grass and apples. Beautiful, he thought. Knots formed in his stomach as he longed to pull her into his embrace. He knew she would protest. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” she said. Her eyes had a pleading look to them, like she wanted something else but couldn’t say it. Krishani thought she must have seen the Brotherhood arrive. They were intimidating with their full robes and ignorant attitudes.

Krishani let out a sigh. He knew how much it might hurt, but he couldn’t take the tension any longer. He wanted to hold her closer, to smell her hair, and to feel her body pressed up against his. “Would you . . .” he began.

She stared at him, curious, her green eyes meeting his. They were cloudy and full of despair.

Krishani let out a nervous sigh as he took her eyes in. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Would you like to dance?”

She glanced over at the kinfolk at the tables. Krishani followed her gaze. One of the elvens had her hands full with them and none of them seemed to be paying attention to her. She took a deep breath. “Aye.”

He caught her hand and pulled her into his embrace, rocking back and forth to the song. At first she was inches away from him, but as the song swelled he found himself against her tight, her head buried in his chest. It seemed so natural that everything but her faded away. Whatever the Brotherhood would say didn’t matter to him. He only hoped it was the same for her, that her kinfolk wouldn’t notice her dancing. Krishani carefully moved his feet in a small circle as the song reached its climax. The only question he wanted to ask pounded at the front of his mind.

Why?

“I’m afraid,” she whispered as though he had spoken his thoughts aloud. Krishani wound his fingers through her hair, caressing her neck and sliding them down her back. He wanted the moment to last forever. The song neared its end, the notes dwindling down. He opened his eyes and pulled. As the last notes were struck, he twirled her under his arm once and dropped her hand.

She pulled back and took a wide step away from him. “Thank you,” she said with a wan smile.

Krishani went to speak, but she turned and fled towards the lower west wing. He looked to his right to see the elven girl staring at him with a fiery blaze. He passed it off and looked towards the exit. Benir had taken off in that direction, the Brotherhood’s table was on the other side of the fountain. He took a deep breath and walked towards the west wing, determined to face Kaliel in private.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (third one)

“Lord Istar of Avristar has called a match between our finest warrior and his. I present to you Wraynas, winner of the Beltane Tournament!” The crowd went wild for Wraynas. Istar nodded to himself as he mentally sized up Krishani’s opponent. This would be a good match.

Falnir didn’t waste time. He called the match seconds later and limped away from hearth, keeping his eyes on the boys as they circled each other.

Wraynas was the first to land a blow to Krishani with the wooden sword. It tapped his shoulder and Krishani briefly fell to one knee. He scraped the ground and rubbed his fingers together, then was back on his feet, twisting around and avoiding the very forward advances that Wraynas made towards him. Eventually, Krishani’s wooden sword met with Wraynas’s and they moved across the dirt in a pattern of blows, each of them defending themselves with skill. Their sparring didn’t get interesting until Wraynas shoved Krishani with his free hand and Krishani fell onto his back. Wraynas was on him in an instant, ready to end the match, but Krishani sprang to his feet, his expression colder, harder.

Istar was curious as to what he was doing. He wasn’t striking Wraynas back; he was only defending himself and not letting go. He seemed focused, but he wasn’t doing what Istar wanted him to do. He turned his eyes away from the sparring match for only a second and that was all it took.

Krishani didn’t even touch Wraynas, but there was a loud crack followed by a rumbling under their feet. The sky darkened with clouds and Wraynas flew onto his back and coughed, blood pouring from his mouth and staining his vest and breeches. Krishani knelt in a ceremonial position, the tip of his wooden sword pointed to the ground. It smoked at the hilt. Krishani panted as the crowd screamed in horror. Istar rushed to his apprentice. He needed to reach Krishani before the villagers realized what happened and attacked his pupil. He briefly glanced at Wraynas, who was passed out unconscious at the edge of the crowd. There was a group of younger maidens fawning all over him, not knowing what to do. Istar placed a hand on Krishani’s shoulder and the boy looked at him, his cheeks stained with tears.

“What was that?” Istar spat.

Krishani’s expression turned from sad to cold again. He shrugged off Istar’s hand and stood, throwing the sword on the ground like it was a deadly weapon. “I hurt him, didn’t I?”

“You . . .” Istar’s gaze moved towards the crowd around Wraynas. Falnir had managed to reach him now and was parting the girls and kneeling at his side. “But why would you?”

Krishani looked down at his hands. They were red, but he wasn’t harmed in any way. “I didn’t mean to. I just let go.”

Istar had never actually witnessed what happened when Krishani let go, and he felt punched in the stomach at having to see it there, in a group of villagers. He took Krishani by the elbow and began leading him towards the thin path back to the Elmare Castle. The clouds were darkening overhead and large droplets of water were beginning to splash onto the dirt.

Before Istar could pull Krishani through the crowd, Falnir glanced up and caught them fleeing. “Your boy is dangerous!” he shouted, clearly upset.

Istar glared at Krishani. “I’ll send Hernadette to help Wraynas.” He tried to be diplomatic, but he knew it was no use. Krishani had harmed their champion, and what was supposed to be a fun sparring match had almost turned into bloodshed.

Falnir nodded. “It is no fault of yours, my lord.”

Istar only nodded, then pushed Krishani through the crowd and into the forests. He didn’t say a word as he led the boy back to the Elmare castle, but he was afraid—afraid of what Krishani was and what he could do.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (fourth one)

Shimma snickered as she gazed through the bushes at the waterfall. She had seen Kaliel and Krishani come and go from it frequently every day for the past few moons. It was no secret they were trespassing, and who knew what they were talking about inside the cave. She waited for them to emerge and, minutes later, saw Krishani descend the stone stairway, followed by Kaliel. He stopped, grabbed her hand and spun her around, his lips finding hers.

Shimma felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Why are you lurking?” Kazza asked as she sidled up beside her in the bushes. She followed her gaze and saw Kaliel and Krishani kissing against the stone by the waterfall. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s unfortunate,” Shimma muttered.

“Why?”

“I hope she’s still pure.” She nervously chewed on her lip as the two broke apart and Kaliel laughed.

Kazza rolled her eyes. “They’re acting like feorns. You really think Istar will allow them to remain together?”

“I don’t think he knows.” Shimma ducked further into the bushes as Krishani’s gaze pierced the forest. He seemed to be the type who would be cautious enough to make sure he and Kaliel were alone, but Shimma was sly.

“That’s interesting. I thought he knew everything that went on in Avristar,” Kazza said.

“Apparently not.” Shimma was disgruntled about their attempts to help Kuruny, their sister, all of which had failed because of Istar.

“You still want her blood for the ritual, don’t you?”

Shimma shot her a foxy smile. “It’s not want, it’s need.” She turned her attention back to the lovebirds that played near the edge of the pond. “If that continues I won’t get my chance.”

Kazza shook her head as Krishani pulled Kaliel into his embrace again. “I have to stop watching this. I’ll let Kuruny know. Maybe we can separate them somehow.”

“Aye, with him around we’ll never get near her.”

“With him around you’ll likely get hurt,” Kazza said as she slunk into the forest brush, preparing to leave.

Shimma turned and crossed her arms, stepping away from her vantage point. “Then I’ll wait until she’s alone.”

excerpt from SURRENDER (fifth one)

“Wait.”

He turned, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Will you stay?” she asked, sitting on the bed again.

Krishani nodded. “Won’t they check on you?”

She glanced at the trap door. “Can you be quick?”

He moved closer. “I can try.”

She took his hand in hers, running her fingers along his palm. “I don’t want to have more nightmares tonight.”

Krishani dropped his head and moved towards her, almost like he was a dead weight. She hated seeing him like this, the pale flickers of candlelight washing over his sullen features, outlining the angle of his jaw and tapering off into shadows in the crook of his neck. She didn’t say anything as his hands circled her waist, gripping her ivory dress firmly and pushing her onto the bed. She had been with him long enough to know instinctively what he wanted and yet, this was different. This was her bedroom in the castle, not the cave behind the falls. Without the cover of the falls and the coarse grass poking into her back she felt comfortable and nervous.

Krishani stood over her thoughtfully and she raised her face to study his contemplating eyes, one blue and one green. It was like he wasn’t sure what to do with her next. She gulped as she waited for him to do what he had done so many times before, arcing her neck towards him, meaning to wrap herself around him, but he took a step away from the bed, his fingers still locked in hers.

She gave him a puzzled look and he shook his head. “You’re sure they won’t come back?” He stole a glance at the closed door.

Kaliel sighed, and looked at the trap door. It was no secret this would be their last night together for awhile, until she had her abilities under control, until they knew what was hunting her, until she could protect the Flames the way Lotesse had told her to. She bit her lip and Krishani reached up and brushed his thumb across her cheek.

“We could hide in the tower,” she said, her eyes finding the string that dangled from the ceiling. Krishani lifted the corner of his lips and before she knew it she was on her feet and he was pulling down the creaky stairs. He let her go first and she brushed past him, climbing the capricious rungs to the dank wooden floor in the tower.

She stood up and reached towards the curvature of the turret just above her head. There was the faint slit of a window in the rock, moonlight filtering through it, casting a rectangular shape on the floor. She almost moved to the other side of the tower when hands found her waist and fingers locked together and she felt weightless as Krishani pulled her against him. Her stomach was filled with throngs of butterflies as he dropped his lips to her elongated ear and instead of saying anything he moved further south to the baby soft skin below her jaw. She gulped and tried to hold back the urges racing through her, she wanted him, she always wanted him in a way that was irrational and irresponsible. She closed her eyes as he rocked back and forth like they were dancing. Her hands covered his as he dropped them lower, one hand trailing to the fabric against her thigh, the other hovering somewhere above her naval. She took a sharp breath and Krishani stiffened, his lips moving from her shoulder to her ear.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered and she felt faint as he pressed himself against her harder. She curled her fingers against his hand, the one on her thigh. She wanted to drink him in like he was the crystal clear waters of the lake and drown in him like she had forgotten what it was like to breathe. She didn’t have to say anything as his hand flowed in sync with hers, hitching up the hem of her dress and pressing his warm skin against her bare thigh. He pressed his other hand to her stomach harder and she felt heat spread through her.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. His forehead rested against her shoulder, his breathing ragged as she guided his hand between her legs. He slipped a finger inside her and she moaned, ecstasy trilling through her. Even in the cave he hadn’t ventured to touch her like that, but desperation to escape her nightmares and his came to a climax. She belonged to him, and wasn’t afraid of the things he wanted to do her.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (sixth one)

She didn’t wake up as the dream faded away, however, she felt her eyes open, the scene around her completely changed.

His eyes were different; one shone gold, the other a rich brown. She traced the patterns in the irises, noting their intricate architecture. There was something about him she recognized, but all she could concentrate on were those eyes. A gold band wrapped around his forehead, a headdress attached to it, golden snakes hanging off it. It resembled a chandelier, aside from its obvious use as a crown. He had olive skin and a narrow nose. His mouth was drawn up in a bright smile. His warm hand was on her shoulder. She tried to tear her gaze away from him. Something begged her to look at the sun, but her eyes were locked to his. Nausea kicked in and her heart raced.

Something is wrong! she thought.

Kaliel tried to move, but his grip and his focus on her sharpened. His eyes pleaded with her, imploring her not to look up. She closed her eyes; there was no way she could let it go. She felt the chalice in the other hand. There was water in it. She had drawn this scene over and over in her journal. She fought to lift her head to look at the sky.

“We have fulfilled our purpose.” His voice was even and calm. She feared that he caused the reasons for her distress.

“What purpose?” she asked.

“The war is over,” he said.

Why would that scare her? She fought to gain control of her emotions, but her knees buckled and heat rose up around her feet. It burned, sending pain shooting into her torso. She cried out and tried to pry her eyes open.

“Relax, my love. It will be over soon,” he said.

“Krishani?”

“Nay, they call me the Ferryman.”

“What?”

She tried to fight, but the fire was intense. It wrapped around her body, threatening to crush her insides with its intense heat. There was something else, though, a barrier between herself and the heat, a shield. She felt the violet aura surrounding her. It spiked off the edges of her body in its own wisps of flames, protecting her from the final axe of destruction.

“And you are the Flame.” There was no compassion in his voice.

The flames engulfed her face in their fury and she forced herself to look up. Smoke covered the sky. Flame-laced pieces of molten rock rained down on them. She gasped and tried to fight it, but with his hand on her shoulder, and his eyes on her, they seemed lost in their own world. She looked at him, his body engulfed in flames, only his mismatched eyes staring into hers through the waves of heat. “It’s over.” His smile faded as fire licked away his flesh.

“Kaliel!” A new voice. “Kaliel!”

Her eyes opened. She was drenched in sweat, her body trembling uncontrollably.

“What did you see?” Mallorn demanded.

She put a hand to her head, trying to shake away the horrendous images that stung. Her mouth moved, trying to form words, but her tongue was dry and her throat was scratchy. She longed for water. The waters. She needed to go to the lake. She pushed the covers aside and shook her head. She refused to explain what she saw, anything to keep him from knowing her dark secrets.

“I can’t stay here,” she said as her feet found the ground.

Mallorn had his hand on her arm, but she wrenched it away and ran out of the cabin into the night.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (seventh one)

“You’re a Ferryman.” His tone was blunt, unwavering.

Krishani felt like he had been stabbed in the chest. “I’m a Child of Avristar.”

The Ferryman ignored him, pulling a pocket knife from his breeches. He turned to the enemies. The Ferryman pierced one of them in the gut as the others continued running across the field. The man fell and then scrambled to his feet to flee. Krishani turned to see the Ferryman stagger and fall backwards. Blood poured from a wound on his side. Krishani drifted to him. Feeling a mix of confusion and anxiety, he dropped to his knees. His eyes surveyed the wound and the blood, the soul inside restless to escape the body. He trembled as he took the Ferryman’s hand in his own and stared into his eyes.

“It’s your time now,” Krishani said.

“It’s your time now,” the Ferryman repeated. His head slumped into the grass, his eyes frozen. Krishani let out a sob as the wispy smoke began rising out of the Ferryman. He hung his head and recited a blessing from his childhood. Everything happened too fast; he was unprepared. Shaken with grief, he wanted to return home, stay in Avristar, but he knew the chances were slim.

He opened his eyes and saw sheets below him. He sat and glanced around the room, making sure none of the enemies followed him. There was nothing but silence, no wispy smoke, no battle cries. He breathed a short sigh of relief and tossed the blanket off his legs. He hung his feet off the bed and buried his head in his hands.

The Ferryman is dead . . . and I’m the next.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (eighth one)

She flushed with fear as she tried to stay calm and still. There was a splash behind her and her heart did a double jump. She clenched her fists together and gritted her teeth. She trembled to the bone and her mouth threatened to erupt in a succession of screams. She held her lips together and stifled the faint whines in the back of her throat. A sharp strike of flint sounded against the stone, and she cringed as she turned to witness the foe.

En guyen naha lin sanse.

Kaliel understood it this time. The Flame inside of her struggled with all of its might to emerge. As she closed her eyes, it rushed out of her. She took a sharp breath as she looked at the people in the cell. There was a body on fire next to the girl now, flames smoking out of his form as the foul smell grew thicker.

The one with rosy pink eyes stared at her and the meaning of the words flooded her mind. Run. Hide. He will take your soul.

The foe didn’t seek to kill the Flames, he sought to possess them. Kaliel felt sick to her stomach as she fought to bring herself out of the dream, back to reality, back to the place where she could find Krishani, warn Mallorn, tell the elders everything she had seen. She tried to close her eyes, but she felt like they were fused open as the foe crouched beside the girl and presented a tiny crystal clear orb. She watched as the pink essence from the girl’s eyes flowed into the orb, turning it into milky pink vapors. The foe stood as the girl slumped to the side, dead.

Desperate, Kaliel tried to back away, but the foe turned his gaze towards the darkened tunnel. His white-lightning eyes sparked, making contact with her amethyst enflamed ones until everything fell away into awful blackness.

Excerpt from SURRENDER (ninth one)

She looked back at Mallorn. “What is Avred?” Desaunius never told her, but she was clear that in their darkest hour, he had been the only thing that pushed the Valtanyana back.

Mallorn creased his brow and hung his head. “He is the male spirit of the land.”

Kaliel let her eyes whisper with hints of anger as she met his blue ones. “What is he?” she asked more earnestly, knowing the answer was something that scared all of the elders in Avristar.

Mallorn ran his hand along Umber’s neck. “A volcano.”

Kaliel gasped. Spasms raked over her flesh. She could face the foe or face the volcano. She could hide and let Crestaos rip Avristar apart. She could let Krishani face him and die. She felt dizzy with grief. “Will he help?”

“The Shee will tell you that. I don’t know.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

Mallorn dropped his hand and met her gaze. He tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his forehead. “The Shee speak for Avred, the way the Gatekeeper speaks for Avristar.”

Kaliel rubbed her arms at the mention of the Gatekeeper. There was nothing she feared more than the voice of Avristar. Even the Valtanyana ran a close second. “I can’t ask Avristar for help.”

Mallorn didn’t say anything.

“Will you speak to them?”

He shook his head and took her hands in his. “They need to hear it from you.”

Revelation came over her as he moved away and mounted the horse. She was all alone. This was something she would have to do, no one else. No help. No support. No anything.

About JUSTICE:

How far would you go to destroy yourself?

Krishani always knew he would have to go to the Lands of Men, but he never thought it would be like this. Enemies everywhere, an ancestor he can’t respect, elders he can’t trust, a curse he can’t stop and friends he can’t help but hate. Desperate to end the pain, he sets out on a quest to find the other Flames and face the enemy that took everything from him.

Excerpt from JUSTICE (first one)

Kuruny pulled another jar off the witching wall and stuffed it into the bag straddled between her legs. She tried not to shake, but her hand quivered as she reached for another jar.

“Leave that, we can get more of it,” Kazza snapped. She sat on the other side of the cauldron, twisting the beads of her necklace with her fingertips. She shot a warning glance at Kuruny, watching as the younger sister put the jar back on the wall. Kazza swiveled on the stool and crossed her legs. Her white gown swept the floor as she stood and crossed the room. Brown hair fell in waves down her back. She studied the wall for a moment and grabbed something glittering and gray.

“This doesn’t grow in the Lands of Men.” She dropped the jar into the sack and met Kuruny’s gaze.

“He doesn’t know yet,” Kuruny said. It was half a question, half a statement. Eventually Istar would find out what she had done. She closed her black eyes and shook her head, sending locks of straight black hair falling over her shoulders.

“Nay, but others . . .” Kazza paused. Kuruny listened for sounds in the halls of the Lower East wing. She kept her thoughts close on their protection spell; none had bothered to check for supplies, yet there were plenty of herbs for healing in their quarters. Kazza eyed the rucksacks against the wall.

“Will come soon,” Kuruny finished for her. She ran her hands along the inside of the black sleeves of her dress. They tightly wrapped her arms to her elbows and loosely cascaded towards her wrist. She wasn’t used to this feeling. Avristar was meant to be home, a place away from the distortion they suffered in the Lands of Men, but Istar would have her head if Avristar herself didn’t sentence them to death. She shuddered at the thought and closed her eyes, thinking of Shimma. The third sister was lost in the forests where the enemy had retreated. They had barely enough time to communicate their wants to the youngest of their trio, and yet, they had to trust she would find what they needed—a way to salvation.

Kazza crossed the room and opened up a large armoire. Inside were three cloaks: one black, one beige, and one blue. Kazza handed the black one to her sister as she slid the beige one over her own shoulders, fitting the hood over her brown hair. Kuruny felt melancholy, as though the guilt had seeped into her bones.

“Come, there is no sense in facing him. You know his anger will know no bounds,” Kazza said.

Excerpt from JUSTICE (second one)

Pux frowned. “Can you tell me something?” He didn’t know where to begin. Atara said nothing. “I thought I saw her eyes change color. She said she was a Flame, but I’ve never heard of them before.”

Atara hung her head. “The Flames are what the Valtanyana want. They are unlike any other being Across the Stars. Each one is created differently. Kaliel was the Amethyst Flame, one of the most important, from what lore has to say about her.”

Pux’s eyes widened. “You mean there are volumes about her?” He never ventured into the library in Orlondir. He never had a reason to read, but if there were books about her, he would read every day for the rest of his life.

Atara shook her head. “Their lore is kept in the Great Library with Kemplan. Even I was not aware she was a Flame. Not until it was too late.”

Pux’s heart dropped. All memory of her was being erased and there was nothing he could do to hang onto the pieces of her that lingered. One day she would be distant in his mind. He feared what life would be like years from now when he was an Elder, and she was still dead.

“I think I’ll go to the orchards,” Pux said. He drifted down the corridor towards the courtyard and Atara didn’t follow him.

“Seek Grimand. He will be leaving for Evennses soon.”

Pux gritted his teeth and turned to face Atara. “I don’t need him to return to Evennses.”

She sighed. “You cannot walk alone, it will take you days.”

His emotions unwound as he became angrier and sadder at the same time. “Kaliel would understand. How can I return to the forest when every tree reminds me of her? When we lived in the same house, ate the same food, played in the same trees? Knowing she was alive and well in Orlondir was all that made it bearable. Even the Great Oak thinks I’m invalid. How do you expect me to return without her?”

Atara hunched her shoulders. “Be patient.”

Pux stared at her with disbelief. For all of his new found knowledge she still treated him as though he was completely unworthy. His mouth dropped open, but he had no words to say. He clenched his fist tight and thought about the orchard. “If all I am to you is useless, I’m better off invisible.” He turned and vanished.

excerpt from JUSTICE (third one)

“That’s no battle scar,” he said. He sized up the boy, focusing on his hand. “You’re turning. This is because of your calling.”

Krishani regretted returning to the castle. Not more talk of Ferrymen. He wrenched his hand out of Mallorn’s grip. “I don’t want to be the Ferryman.”

Mallorn scoffed. “You can deny it all you want, but you cannot escape it.”

Krishani went down the hallway. He knew Mallorn would follow him, but he needed air or relief, something to help clear his head. “I’m nothing.”

Mallorn grabbed his forearm and pulled up his sleeve to show him the black marks. “You have no choice. This will spread until you are no more.”

Krishani half-smiled. Mallorn meant it as a deterrent, but it made Krishani happy to know there was a way out. After all he had been through there was a way to die.

“The end of me,” he breathed.

Mallorn whacked him across the back of the head. “Stop it. The Ferrymen are important.”

Krishani let his head throb. He didn’t raise his hand to rub the spot Mallorn struck. From the dream he knew just how important the Ferrymen were. People died by the thousands in the Lands of Men and no one protected them. He stopped at the sixteenth corridor. “I have nothing to live for.”

Mallorn’s forehead creased in tight wrinkles. “Death. You must live for that.”

Krishani wanted to smack him for his answer. Instead, he balled up his fist and descended the stairway, heading towards the kitchen. “Hernadette!” he called. There had to be another answer, a cure for his condition or something to alleviate the aching he felt throughout his body. He passed the archway and paused at the mouth of the kitchen. A plump woman in soiled linens appeared in the doorframe.

“You’re well!” she exclaimed.

Krishani shook his head. “Alive.”

“Which is well. Do you need something?”

He extended his hand. “I need a cure for this.”

Hernadette covered her mouth with her fingertips. “That is a plague.”

Krishani pulled his robe over his hand and shrank away from the kitchen. When he turned around, Mallorn stood in the hallway, staring at him. The Kiirar had a soiled gray robe underneath his cloak, a cord tied around his waist.

“Come to Nandaro with me,” Mallorn said.

“Avristar will sentence me to death.”

“You should leave before that happens.”

Krishani’s face twisted into disbelief. “She loathes me that much?”

“It is the price one pays for that crime.”

It was like knives stabbing his insides as the land he called home turned against him. “Does she blame me for the existence of the foe, too? Does she blame me for Kaliel’s death?” He sunk to the floor and covered his face with his arms.

“Nandaro was the last place she called home,” Mallorn said gently.

Krishani couldn’t stay. He couldn’t face Avristar’s wrath. Defeated, he glanced at Mallorn and nodded reluctantly.

“Aye,” he whispered. “I will go to Nandaro.”

Excerpt from JUSTICE (fourth one)

“There are things you must know about being a Ferryman,” Tulsen said before he could leave the hall.

Krishani turned, pain mushrooming across his chest. His heart felt like a dead weight, heavy and black. Adoron taught him to mind his manners in front of the elders, but Tulsen Tavesin didn’t carry the demeanor of an elder of Avristar. He was human, incapable of manipulating the tides or forging the forests with his mind. The Brotherhood of Amersil wouldn’t have accepted him and Krishani wasn’t ready to accept him as his flesh and blood either. Anger flared up inside of him, a hot searing pain shot through his chest like a thousand flaming arrows. He staggered along the red carpet, his shoulder bumping into a wooden pillar. He put a hand to his shoulder and made eye contact with Tulsen.

“You mean, how I can die?” Krishani spat. He wanted nothing to do with the stodgy man before him. He reeked of sandalwood and mold; his brown robes clearly hadn’t been washed in weeks. Krishani made a guttural sound to show his disgust. He pulled his black tunic taut.

Tulsen shot him a bewildered glance. “Nay, you need to know about the Vultures and how to fight them.”

It was like Tulsen had rammed him with a solid oak tree. He fought to keep his balance, but dread crept into him, making it difficult to see. Tulsen must have been talking about the black thing with the self-contained black storm circling its shapeless body, the thing that seemed a void of the world itself. Tulsen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “You’ve already seen the Vultures.”

Krishani’s anger reached the boiling point. “Tell me why Davlin died,” he hissed.

Mallorn groaned and turned away, his gray robes scraping along the ground. Krishani went to say something about Mallorn’s blind trust in Tulsen but stopped.

“Are you asking because you saw him die? Because you are afraid of your own death?” Tulsen’s tone was acidic. “I can assure you that your death is not your concern.”

Krishani lowered his infected hand, his shoulder throbbing. He tried to keep the fury in his eyes as Tulsen strode forward, nothing but three feet between them. Krishani met his hazel eyes, noting their flecks of deep brown.

“There isn’t a way to change it. You will be the Ferryman until your successor gives you passage to the Great Hall. You’re immortal until that happens, unless . . . you become a Vulture.”

Krishani flinched, the heat that burned through him turned to ice. Shivers ran the length of his spine. He wanted Tulsen to stop staring at him, memorizing his black hair, mismatched eyes and elongated ears. He wasn’t Istar’s champion and he wasn’t Tulsen’s. He was nothing. He tore his eyes from Tulsen’s scrutinizing gaze and found Mallorn. With a sudden pang he realized what the black marks meant.

The curse was turning him into a Vulture.

Excerpt from JUSTICE (fifth one)

“I miss her. I miss everything about her,” Pux said, barely able to breathe.

Krishani felt like he had been slapped. It burned knowing how much Pux hurt over the loss of Kaliel. He tried to keep the memory of her from being said out loud, but now that it was out there was nothing he could do. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“We need to find the other Flames.” He tried to keep his voice even, but it wavered with a hint he might let his own emotions weaken him. “I need you to be strong.” He broke away from Pux and stood. The feorn continued shaking as Krishani turned and froze.

Not three feet ahead of him a Vulture hovered in the air, blocking his path. Its footless form floated mere inches from the ground. Krishani stared at it, the wisps of blackness curling around its torso, creating a storm of darkness. It moved closer, towering over him. Frostbite licked at his heart, stinging him with its iciness. Needle-like pricks crawled across his infected arm, making him want to rip it off. Numbness pierced his insides as the cold poured into him, making him stiff and archaic. He knew he should have fought against it, but all reason left him. He raised his blackened hand, reaching for the vile creature. It was so close it could fold him into its darkness and he would be gone for eternity. He wouldn’t feel remorse over what had happened to Kaliel if the Vulture devoured him. It was a grim form of freedom he was thirsty for.

“No!” Mallorn roared, hands clamped onto Krishani’s shoulders, pulling him away from the invisible creature. The force knocked both of them to the ground, the boy sprawled on top of Mallorn. The elder slipped out from under him and rose to his feet. Krishani dug the heels of his palms into his eyes as the sensation of fire and ice washed over him. Through blurry eyes he watched Mallorn standing like a statue. He stared right at the Vulture, though Krishani wasn’t sure if the elder could see it. Krishani convulsed, tremors ripping across his flesh. He rolled onto his side and coughed; blood spattered the ground. He pushed himself onto his knees and pounded a fist to his chest, wheezing and rasping. He broke into another fit of coughs and more blood appeared on the dirt.

Pux stood and approached Mallorn. “What was that?”

“It was a Vulture,”

Excerpt from JUSTICE (sixth one)

Dark figures moved through the fields with precision and grace. The four of them stretched across the land like an impenetrable wall of riders against thousands. Hooves hit the ground, leaving marks with spiked horseshoes. Nostrils flared, smoke billowing out, rising into the sky. They hit the trees and forged a path of ashes through it, trees catching fire. The riders had no souls; they were remorseless creatures traipsing through unconsecrated lands, destroying everything they came into contact with. Their faces were covered in darkness, hidden beneath long flowing cloaks draped over the backs of the giant beasts. Their hands were covered with shiny armor concealing their flesh. One of them gripped the reins and made a sharp right. The others followed in succession as they found the east shore. There were thriving lands across the channel. The riders wanted to bring nightmares to their children, burn their houses, hear the cries of women as they devoured the towns in haste.

Their minds were full of nothing but blind hatred and hunger for blood. There was no sense in reasoning with them. Death came swiftly by their hands, and when it came, so did the Vultures, and when they came, the souls were silenced.

The Horsemen thrived on silence.

It was far better than the screeching noises filling their ears. No matter how far they traveled, it wouldn’t stop. The constant agonizing sounds followed them, and when the souls were devoured, the screeching ceased. It remained quiet until the beating hearts of souls in the distance caused it to start again.

And then they hunted them.

To silence them.

Their horses were beast-like, with sharp teeth, red eyes, scales. Their armor covered what little bristles of prickly hair they had. Their hooves were covered with sharp spikes. They breathed fire. Only their riders could control them, because there were no words for what these beasts were.

Krishani watched in horror as they hit the shores and led the beasts into the foamy waters of the ocean. He watched until their forms disappeared under the waves, and shuddered as one of them turned back and glanced at him. Krishani averted his gaze and saw a little girl. She had beautiful midnight black hair that fell to her ankles. Her skin tinged blue, her lips bruised purple. She had coal colored eyes, full of hatred. But she was under four feet fall. A pale blue nightgown fell to her bare feet. She pointed at the sand and he followed her gaze. Blood lapped up against the shore, covering his boots in a thick red paste.

The sight of the blood made him jolt. He wrenched out of the cot, a fierce ringing in his ears. He clenched his fists to the sides of his head and tried to quiet his urge to scream. He was alone in the hut, on the west shores of an island on Terra. He closed his eyes, but the image of the girl clouded his vision, a little girl, one that called the Horsemen to do her bidding.

She was one of the Valtanyana.

Excerpt from JUSTICE (seventh one)

He fell on his knees near the opening to the crevasse, a snivel escaping the back of his throat. Black drops of blood dripped onto the sand as the wound festered. He winced at the stitches of pain and pulled at the hole in his tunic. Cringing, he pulled it over his head. As he looked at his midsection he huffed. Black wisps ensnared his stomach, crawling across his chest, forcing themselves into his heart and lungs. Krishani felt the sting of emptiness as the curse spread across his collar bone and trailed down his left arm.

There was a gasp behind him.

Krishani turned to see Shimma standing there shaking and covering her mouth. He glanced at his blackened torso and back at her. Standing, he grabbed her by the hair. She yelped, then shut her mouth as he dragged her to the tent at the far end of the village. Once inside he dropped onto the cot and pulled Tiki out of the knapsack to be sure none of the Daed had taken her.

“What is the matter with you?” Shimma asked, terror lacing her voice.

“I need you to stitch me up.” His voice was raspy. He let the Vultures have the humans on the beach. He didn’t even try to give them safe passage. He took a deep breath and tried to let some compassion enter his heart, but Shimma stared at him in shock.

She gulped, pulling her blonde hair into a wrap. She tied it with a sash from around her neck and went to dip her hands in a bowl of water. She said nothing as she rummaged around in the hut. She stole a glance at him.

“What are you?” she asked.

“A Ferryman. What are you?”

Shimma looked pained. “A witch. We were trying to help the Flame.”

“Where is it now?”

“Hidden in the cave.” She brought the needle and thread to his shoulder. Taking a deep breath she carefully pricked at his black skin.

Krishani looked away, he couldn’t feel the needle. It was like the more he let the Vultures seep into his soul, the more he felt little of anything. It was like he was slipping away into the nothingness he longed for.

Excerpt from JUSTICE (ninth one)

Krishani sighed and looked at the stars. The vastness of the lands stretched into a thousand tiny dots. The day had felt the longest since he left Avristar. He closed his eyes, getting lost in memories of Kaliel all over again, the softness of her smile and the shining greenness of her eyes.

Shivers ran up his spine. He would never let Kaliel go. She had entwined herself into his heart and it was her Flame that kept it beating day after day even when he had nothing left. He only fled Avristar because she told him to. If it had been up to him he would have had the axe of destruction fall on him, forcing his return to the Great Hall and leaving the Tavesins without a Ferryman, immortality or not.

He sighed and opened his eyes. Aulises stared at him, her green eyes full of innocence and curiosity. She looked away when he looked at her. He turned his back to her, but there were shuffles behind him, footsteps in the sand, a dress swishing around in the wind. He felt the log shift as she sat. He stole a glance in her direction. She focused on the fire, grief etched into her features. He thought she must have seen roughly sixteen summers, give or take a couple. Her tiny body made it hard to judge.

“I have no home,” she whispered.

Krishani gulped. He remembered the morning he had woken up with Kaliel in Nandaro. She said the same thing. Even with melancholy making the girl look distinctly unlike Kaliel, it was still a biting thought.

“I know the feeling.” He went rigid and watched the salamanders dancing in the flames. He tried to let his thoughts drift away from the girl and her similarities. As the silence ensued, he slipped back into the dark thoughts that kept him occupied every other moment of the day since the attack on Avristar. He loathed the idea of facing off with the Daed a second time. He needed to see the cold terror of the one who had taken her life. He shuddered unexpectedly and felt a hand on his leg. He glanced down, Aulises’s hand on his thigh.

Wild anger rushed into his body. He glanced at her, an apologetic and suggestive young girl with bright green eyes bored into him. It took no time at all to know what the girl wanted. He was disgusted and appalled. He ripped himself off the log and drew his sword.

“Harlot!” His eyes went wide and she turned fearful. Krishani held the sword at her throat, his entire body pulsing with debasement. “Look at me that way again and I won’t think twice about cutting your throat.” His voice was low and uneven. It hurt to get the words out.

Aulises scrambled backwards and fell in the sand. Her eyes flashed with the same murkiness as her family. “You like me,” she said with a sneer, her lips twisting into a devious smile.

Krishani stepped over the log, his lips turned up in disgust. He clenched the sword tighter and pushed it to her throat. “You’re a thief’s daughter. I feel nothing for you. I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Aulises dipped her head back and let out a sob that sounded more like laughter. “End me. I have no family and nowhere to go.” She said it slowly, her bare neck exposed, the sword pointed at it.

Krishani froze, blinked, heat rushing into his extremities.

“Krishani!” Shimma called from the cabin. She ran across the sand, pausing when she was close enough to the girl. “What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes panicked.

Krishani hung his head. Deep down he knew he couldn’t kill her, not when she looked so much like Kaliel. It would be like ending her himself, and he could never do that. He blinked and pulled the sword away from Aulises’s throat. He fumbled with it and eventually shoved it back into the scabbard. Shimma knelt beside Aulises as she sat up.

“He looked like he needed comforting.” Aulises sounded meek again, nothing like the devious girl Krishani faced moments ago. He made a guttural noise with his nostrils and stalked towards the cabin.

“Keep her away from me.”

About VULTURE:

How far would you go to betray everything you’ve ever known?

Kaliel didn’t think second chances came with this much turmoil. Exiled from her home, surrounded by strangers and in love with a boy she barely recognizes, she can’t take it. She has her best friend, a new mentor, and a chance to win the war against the Valtanyana, but it’s all wrong. Desperate to salvage some semblance of her former life, she makes a deal that shatters everything.

Excerpt from VULTURE (first one)

“I missed making you want me,” she whispered, taking his earlobe between her lips. “It’s never been this intense. Every time I touch you I want more.”

He couldn’t speak. Pitching forward he cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to him, his lips exploring hers with a rough hunger he had denied for moons. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, locking it in a vice grip until she moaned. He reached for the knot of fabric at the back of her neck and untied it hastily. She grated her hips against him and he gasped, unable to stave off his desire. He pressed his forehead to her chest and his lips clamped on her nipple as he used his strength to force her up. He wanted her naked and underneath him. She followed his lead, the dress pooling at her ankles. Instead of doing anything he expected, she wrapped her legs around him and he pivoted, falling on top of her as he hit the bed, burying himself inside her. She had her hands everywhere on his body and he had his everywhere on hers.

Being with her made him lose track of time, of stars, of everything except the energy surrounding them. She wasn’t like anyone he had ever known. She was an all consuming need, an unyielding demand, a fiery necessity. Love like this paled everything Across the Stars. It was a love so powerful he would destroy everything in his path to keep it, protect it, and make sure it lasted forever.

Excerpt from VULTURE (second one)

“Are you afraid of the Horsemen?” the little girl asked. Kaliel didn’t look at her, but she nodded in response. “You should be. Morgana brought them.” Her voice was syrupy sweet.

Kaliel carefully lifted her head from her knees. The little girl’s eyes knifed into her, crackling with jagged lines of lightning. The Horsemen kicked dust into Kaliel’s eyes and she recoiled, blinking rapidly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Why did she bring them?” Kaliel asked, scowling at the girl. Blood dripped off the little girl’s hands. She held them palms to the sky, like offering the blood to the stars.

“Because she’s coming for him,” she said.

“Who is she?”

The little girl smirked. “She’s me of course.”

There was a loud gust of wind and Kaliel fell on her hands and knees as laughter erupted from the little girl. The sour sound of chimes rose into the tornado of brambles and dust. It pierced Kaliel’s ears with the fortitude of a thousand bells ringing all at once. The sound made her cover her ears, trying to muffle the noise. “What do you want?” she shouted through gritted teeth. Her hands splayed across either side of her head to protect her eyes from the threat of the thorns but it was no use. They whipped her body with needles, the fresh scent of blood rising into the air as her skin broke open.

“I want him,”

Excerpt from VULTURE (third one)

There was dancing the way there was always dancing, only when Pux wrapped his arm around Jack’s waist, the shy boy he had come to know pulled out of his grasp and left the hall. Pux had frowned, checking to make sure nobody noticed the minute gesture and followed Jack. He found him leaning against the side of the mess hall, hands stuffed into his pockets, hazel eyes downcast. Pux neared him until they were face to face. He didn’t say anything until Jack felt him there and looked up, his eyes saying more than his lips. The other boy was upset, scared and embarrassed, but Pux was Pux, he never pried. Pux left his hands at his sides, his eyes drifting to Jack’s dry lips. Jack looked away.

“I should stop dancing with you,” he said.

Pux didn’t move. “Why?”

“Cause it makes me feel weird.”

Pux wasn’t sure how to react. “Good weird?”

Jack let out a sigh and closed his eyes. “Alive weird. Like all those stories about you Children of Avristar are true.”

Pux didn’t have words this time, and he wasn’t sure if he needed them. His body crashed forward, capturing Jack’s jaw in his hand as he pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a tangle of tongues and teeth and lips. Jack kissed him back with all the ferocity of an animal and Pux felt his heart thud through the fabric of his tunic. It didn’t last long enough, and when Pux pulled back he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for the way Jack looked at him, scared, excited and sad. Pux pressed his forehead against Jack’s, his hand caressing the other boy’s throat, feeling his elevated pulse.

Jack seemed to catch his breath, his words coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Father won’t like this.”

Pux tried to quirk a smile, feeling like his own heart might explode. He never understood before Jack what Kaliel was so obsessed with, and now, with his hands on Jack, all he wanted to do was press his lips against every part of him. “Do you like it?”

Jack smiled that same rueful smile Pux had mastered and Pux laughed. He didn’t need to say anything for Pux to know exactly what he was thinking.

In the present, Jack squeezed Pux’s knee, pulling him out of his daydream.

“I’m sorry,” Pux mumbled.

“Don’t be. I think it’s endearing,” Jack said.

Social media links

http://www.facebook.com/RhiannonPaille

http://www.twitter.com/rhiannonpaille

http://www.yafantasyauthor.com (I have an extensive list of social media links on the sidebar)

Buy links available

SURRENDER

http://amzn.to/VMdCJG

LANTERN & POISON

http://amzn.to/U73Apl

JUSTICE

http://amzn.to/W9ommv

BLOOD & GOLD

http://amzn.to/VIAjVJ

Praise for SURRENDER:

“Conceptually, it is one of the most stunning and beautifully written fantasy novels, that I’ve read in a long time. The world bends to desire, melts into gorgeous scenery, and delights in telling a story that will definitely take you on an epic journey that you won’t soon forget. The fantasy is rich and deeply beguiling. The characters and their world is intriguing and full of so much mystery and suspense, that you won’t want to put the book down. It has every element that a fantastic fantasy novel should have and so much more to offer the reader.” Suz at A Soul Unsung

“My head is still spinning a bit about the plot though because I can’t believe it. It’s better than ice cream for a break up. The plot was original, the characters were relatable and down to earth despite not living on Earth.” – Courtney at Readable Charper

“Surrender is definitely full of emotion and will take you on an incredible journey through the eyes of these two incredible characters.” Lucy at Moonlight Gleam

“Reading this book felt like reading a classic, but with everything I love in a book: romance, heartbreak, and lots of action! I would recommend this book to EVERYONE and then dare them not to fall in love with it!” – Sammie Spencer, Author of Amaretto Flame

“Rhiannon Paille creates a unique and beautiful world that will draw you in and make you remember what it was like to be young, innocent, and full of wonder.” Cory Putman Oakes, Author of The Veil

“Surrender is hands down one of my favorite fantasy books ever. YA or not, this is just pure awesomeness and every fantasy fan should read it. It’s a delectable, rich in detail, numbingly brilliant and swoon-worthy read that you can’t afford to miss out on.” Evie at Bookish Evie

Praise for Justice:

“Paille paints a portrait of a desperately grieving hero – whose stubborn devotion just makes him all the more desirable. You will root for him, even when you believe deep down (as he does) that he doesn’t have a prayer.” – Cory Putman Oakes, Author of The Veil

“He believes in their love when no one else does, and never wavers in his devotion.” – Natasha M. Heck

Praise for VULTURE:

“Expect more passion, more deceit, more war, and more nightmares, and don’t be fooled into thinking this is a love story with a happy ending.”

Lucius tour ~ Interveiw with Tara S. Wood

Welcome to this stop on the Lucius tour! Today you get to have your very own Q & A session with the lovely Tara! 🙂

*****

Tara Wood Author PhotoWhat would your bio say?

Tara Wood divides her time between creating domestic bliss and creating hot paranormal romance with the occasional side of kink. When not playing June Cleaver for her hubby and daughter, she can be found at the local Starbucks slamming back Frappuccinos and plotting out her next idea. Or she’s watching the BBC. Tara resides with her wonderful and tolerant family in the suburbs of Houston, Texas. She is currently at work on several projects, one of them being the next book in her In Blood series.

 When did you start writing and why?

I really don’t know. It may have started with poetry in middle school, but I can’t remember NOT writing. The first time I sat down with a concrete book idea in mind was 2009. I wrote “Redemption in Blood” and never looked back. As for the why, I don’t think I have a choice. LOL. Writing to me is like breathing. I have to do it to live.

If you are a parent how does being a parent affect your writing and writing habits? Or does it?

I am a parent. And having a little one around pushed me into writing whenever I could. Being a mom keeps me busy, so I find myself jotting things down during swim lessons and gymnastics. In general, I do most of my writing at night, after bedtime.

Who is your favorite author and why?

That’s a tough question. I don’t think I could even begin to narrow the field. But I will tell you that my two favorite books are “Heart of Darkness” by Joseph Conrad and “To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee.

What do you hope to accomplish with your writing?

The biggest thing I hope to do with my writing is to entertain people. I want to give readers a good time and great story. I want to makes them happy.

Traditional or Self publishing? Why?

BOTH!!! I love being self-published and the autonomy that brings, but I also love being part of a publishing family as well. Miranda Stork and Moon Rose Publishing have been amazing.

Talk about your journey into the wide world of publishing.

I made the jump into self-publishing because, frankly, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to put my book into the hands of readers and let them decide if it was a track worth pursuing. I feel it was the right starter move for me, and don’t regret a moment.

Tell us about your bookPageflex Persona [document: PRS0000447_00008]

This book is the first in The Fallen series.

Lucius, once revered at the side of God, fell to Earth with his brothers to pay penance and atone for his lapse in leadership. Wingless and forsaken, they have all paid a price for their complicity. Lucius’ hubris is now a curse, and he cannot rest until they carry out the last of The Almighty’s orders…and stop a war that has been millennia in the making.

Persephone Roberts is always in the right place at the right time, the serendipity allowing her to help people on her travels. When it leads her to cross paths with the band of hard-living fallen angels, she sets her sights on their leader, and is determined to restore Lucius’ faith in their quest. And in himself.

But the ancient evil the angels strive to fight has put Persephone in its crosshairs. It will be up to Lucius and his brothers to save her and destroy the minions of the dark. Can the amber-eyed beauty with her accepting heart heal wounds that cut soul deep, and force him to reclaim a glory he once tossed aside? Is he strong enough to realize the path back to Heaven begins with her, or will he be forever…fallen?

 What inspired you to write these books (or in this genre)?

I write in this genre because there are no rules. The story can take shape and become whatever it wants. The only limit is my imagination.

Tell us why we should love or hate your main character?

I think everyone should love Lucius. He’s so hard on himself, poor baby. He’s trying to keep it all together and soldier on, even when he’s not sure it’s making a difference. Somebody give him a hug. Awwww…..

Does your book have a soundtrack?

I work from a huge playlist of music. It’s impossible to pin down, because my tastes are all over the place. You would find some 80’s hair bands, pop, dance, classical, rock, and even a smidge of Finnish goth metal. Not your mother’s playlist.

*****

Lucius Information

Welcome to the release tour of Lucius; The Fallen! The first in a hotly-anticipated series, it follows the leader of a band of hard-living, hard-drinking angels after their fall to earth. The series will span six books, each one more enticing than the last! Keep reading to find out more, and check out our giveaway at the end……AND a special surprise if you’ve ever wanted to ask the authors a question!

Blurb

“Relish this moment in My favor. It is your last.”

Six angels once sat at the right hand of The Almighty, but an ill-fated decision cast them out of Heaven. Now they serve Him on Earth, slaying demons for their redemption. They are…The Fallen.

Lucius, once revered at the side of God, fell to Earth with his brothers to pay penance and atone for his lapse in leadership. Wingless and forsaken, they have all paid a price for their complicity. Lucius’ hubris is now a curse, and he cannot rest until they carry out the last of The Almighty’s orders…and stop a war that has been millennia in the making.

Persephone Roberts is always in the right place at the right time, the serendipity allowing her to help people on her travels. When it leads her to cross paths with the band of hard-living fallen angels, she sets her sights on their leader, and is determined to restore Lucius’ faith in their quest. And in himself.

But the ancient evil the angels strive to fight has put Persephone in its crosshairs. It will be up to Lucius and his brothers to save her and destroy the minions of the dark. Can the amber-eyed beauty with her accepting heart heal wounds that cut soul deep, and force him to reclaim a glory he once tossed aside? Is he strong enough to realize the path back to Heaven begins with her, or will he be forever…fallen?

Trailer

Excerpt (18+)

The subtle whoosh of air from the doorway ahead made all five angels turn as one.

“Is there another one?” Lucius muttered. Turning to Domniel, he said, “Can you smell another one?”

Domniel lifted his head and walked toward the doorway. “Hard to tell. That smell’s everywhere. I’ll follow it and see what I find.”

“Good. Elijah, go with him,” Lucius said as he bent toward the pool of goo to begin purifying the remains. From the corner of his eye, Lucius watched Elijah nod and jog off to catch up with Domniel.

Task finished, he placed the vial of holy water in his pocket, and called after the blind angel. “Dom?”

“Yeah, man, out here.”

He motioned to Jude and Mordecai, and they ran across the street to another parking lot. He paused as he realized Domniel and Elijah weren’t alone.

A woman stared at them from across the lot. She looked calm. A dark halo of thick curls was pulled back tight, emphasizing an oval face and high cheekbones. The assassin-chic ensemble she sported could not detract from the feminine perfection she represented.

She laid smoldering eyes on them and growled, her voice smoky and rich, “Figures I would find pigeons here. It is the gutter, after all.”

Domniel’s head tilted and Lucius knew he was trying to locate her. He caught a whiff of sand and something exotic and ancient. He knew the blind angel had found her when he turned, putting his shades on her.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Domniel snarled.

She laughed, the sultry sound designed to stir men’s loins. “A higher plane of existence, you useless bird.”

His dark sunglasses looked her up and down. “No shit, you a Jersey girl? That explains a lot.”

She glared at him before bringing her arm forward to reveal a flaming scimitar. “You pigeons always have to crap on somebody else’s sidewalk, don’t you?”

Lucius stepped forward and laid a hand on Domniel’s shoulder, urging him to stand down. Apprehension collided with recognition like a shot to his gut, and he gave the deposed goddess a slow, tight smile, hoping that this encounter would leave them with all their limbs.

“Hello, Khemrhy.”

“Do you have any idea what you just screwed up?” Khemrhy laid the scimitar across her back, the fire dying and sword disappearing before she leaned against an old Chevy pickup, one foot planted squarely on the front bumper.

Before anyone could slap a hand over his mouth, Domniel spouted, “Could it be your hot date for this century?”

Khemrhy smiled and stood back up. “No, you fool. You messed with my hunt. He was leading me back to something important. Not that you could ever understand that.”

Always cautious in his dealings with Khemrhy, Lucius put a hand over Domniel’s mouth and said, “We think there’s a second one. Did you see anything?”

“Of course. The other one went that way,” she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the alley behind her. Something about it seemed too simple, but a gust of wind brought the stench of brimstone strong enough that they could all smell it.

As Lucius, Jude, and Mordecai began to head past Khemrhy, they instinctively gave her a wide berth. From behind them, Domniel said, “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on her. I still don’t trust the bitch.”

“Little hard to keep an eye on someone when you’re blind, pigeon,” she quipped. “Maybe you should get a dog.”

Lucius heard Domniel mouthing off in the distance and rolled his eyes, hoping she didn’t remove any limbs. This time.

“A dog, huh? You’ll do. Let me see if I can find a leash and a muzzle,” Domniel snapped back. “Though you might be a little front end heavy to be running around on hands and knees, fetching shit for me.”

As the wind picked up, Lucius could see Domniel’s head swivel as he struggled to locate Khemrhy’s dissipating scent. Elijah signed to him in a panic, the fluttering of his fingers reaching through to the blind angel.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! I lost her! Where is she? I don’t speak finger-fuck!”

Lucius whirled in a circle, hoping that even he could get a quick scent to target the goddess.

Ten feet in front of his sightless brother, Khemrhy growled, “I’ve got a front end for you.” And then the truck came crashing down on Domniel.

From his viewpoint behind Domniel, Lucius watched as Khemrhy planted her boot on the truck’s bumper and pushed down hard to lever it upward. When she started pushing down with her foot, Elijah began frantically signing the word, “Chevy” to no avail. As the truck stood on end, she reached down, grabbed the bumper, and swung the entire vehicle over her head.

The pickup came down in a barrage of creaking steel, slamming Domniel hard into the pavement. He gave a loud, anguished grunt as Elijah ran to his side. Twisted metal groaned as Elijah tried to maneuver chunks of the vehicle up off him.

“Get…off me… fucking bitch!” he gurgled. Khemrhy laughed as she made her way to a Triumph motorbike parked beneath one of the street lights.

Lucius and Jude ran to assist. “What the fuck happened? Dom?”

“Chevy half-ton pickup,” Elijah signed to Lucius.

Lucius winced, reaching for parts of the vehicle. “Ouch.”

The sound of the Triumph’s throttle rumbling got their attention and they turned. Khemrhy smiled back, flipping them her middle finger before roaring off down the street.

Domniel lay on his back, his chest caved in, laboring for enough breath to groan.

Lucius shook his head. “You know better than to piss her off. She could’ve killed you, dumbass.”

Domniel wheezed, turned his head and spat out two bloody teeth. “Get ‘Magic Fingers’ over here – good to go.”

Elijah tapped Lucius on the shoulder and gestured to Domniel.

“Yeah,” Lucius nodded. “Do your thing. And get him to walk. I’m not fucking carrying his wiseass back.”

They came forward and closed ranks, making a circle around him. Elijah knelt down next to the blind angel, stretched out his hands and cracked his knuckles.

“Just fucking get to it, mute. My balls are wedged up in my ribcage.” Domniel’s eyes fluttered closed in between gasps.

Jude snorted. “Why can’t you be the mute?”

Lucius held a hand up, silencing them.

Elijah rubbed his hands together and closed his eyes. The silent angel’s hands trembled for a moment and then glowed with a soft, white light. He placed both of them, palms down, on what was left of Domniel’s chest and took a deep breath.

Domniel lit up, his chest echoing the glow from Elijah’s hands, and he let out a deep, relaxing sigh. “Fuck, yeah. I bet the chicks love that shit.”

“Shut up,” Lucius warned.

Domniel sighed again and gave into the healing.

Author Bios

Tara Wood divides her time between creating domestic bliss and creating hot paranormal romance with the occasional side of kink. When not playing June Cleaver for her hubby and daughter, she can be found at the local Starbucks slamming back Frappuccinos and plotting out her next idea. Or she’s watching the BBC. Tara resides with her wonderful and tolerant family in the suburbs of Houston, Texas. She is currently at work on several projects, one of them being the next book in her In Blood series.

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Moon Rose Publishing

Lorecia is a native Houstonian who did not escape in her adulthood. So she camps out in NW Houston concocting her own special variety of chaos but rarely finishes it without the continual prodding of best friend Tara. She loves to laugh, bead, write, eat and hug kitties. She also loves to have fun and can usually be found on any given Friday night off chatting her head off at Denny’s with her bestie.

Facebook

Moon Rose Publishing

 

LIVE Question-and-Answer session with the authors!

And now for the giveaway—and that special surprise! As part of the tour, the author will be answering your questions about Lucius and writing LIVE on April 29th, via Google+ Hangouts! To take part, all you need to do is go to the event page here at  http://www.moonrosepublishing.com/#!author-questions–lucius-the-fallen/cfzv and post the question that you would like to be answered. The best ones will be chosen, and as many as possible answered within a 30 minute session. The address to watch and take part in the Hangout will be posted a week before, and you must follow Moon Rose Publishing on Google+ at https://plus.google.com/114000878667510243231/posts Have fun!

And….the awesome giveaway!

<a id=”rc-7adce34″ href=”http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/7adce34/&#8221; rel=”nofollow”>a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>

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You can pick the book up from these places!

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Kobo

WHSmith

Barnes & Noble

Google Play

Moon Rose Publishing

And don’t forget to get your questions in for the 29th April! J

Blogging From A to Z — ‘Support’

a-to-z-letters-sDefinition: To bear the weight of.

Now I have kept this topic the same as my other blog for today but I am altering this post almost entirely because there is a different twist on the whole spousal support thing when it comes to being a published author.

I for one am truly blessed when it comes to the support I receive from my husband in regards to my writing and becoming a full fledged published author. He has never doubted me ever. Always has stood beside me told me just how proud he is of me. Honestly there are days where that is everything I need to remember to keep on my writing path and when things are bogging me down.

That isn’t always the case. I had a friend once who was an amazing and gifted writer. Her stories were simply put amazing. They were colourful and brilliant. Honestly I envied her. Yet I have one of the last remaining copies of her first book. And it was on a whim that she had sent it over to me and even more amazing that I had been able to hang onto it for years. But more to the point is why I have one of the only copies and why she doesn’t. Her world came crashing down with one snippy comment from her husband who she had truly thought supported her through the years. It broke her heart and she hasn’t written in years as a result.

Support and love from our spouse or significant other is so vital to our health as a writer that its almost impossible for me to come up with a writer without any sort of a support system. We need the support not only of our readers but our families, friends, peers, mentors and so many others.

What does your spouse or significant other or even a friend do that you find to be an important part of your support system? Or is there something you with they did but they don’t?