Blog Tour ~ Rise of the Deva’shi ~ Excerpt With Giveaway

 

 

Blog Tour ~ Rise of the Deva’shi (Parthalan #3)
Author: Jennifer Allis Provost
Genre: Fantasy/Science Fiction/ Young Adult
Tour Dates: 20th-24th of March
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:

A stolen girl. A legendary champion. A plan that might destroy Parthalan once and for all…

Aeolmar, First Hunter of Parthalan, leads a solitary life. Having long since abandoned his quest to kill Mersgoth—the demon that murdered his family—Aeolmar moves through his days with cold efficiency. Everything changes when he leads a training mission in Brennus, where he’s attacked by Mersgoth himself, and saved by an unlikely heroine.

Latera, first born and heir to Gannera’s throne, is kidnapped and left for dead in Parthalan’s vast forests. A lone human amongst Parthalan’s fae, she makes a home in Brennus, and lives a quiet life—until she finds herself defending a wounded First Hunter from a clutch of demons.

Back in Parthalan, Harek warns Asherah of something called the deva’shi—a warrior loyal only to the demon lord, Asgeloth. Both Aeolmar and Latera suspect that there is more to this deva’shi than what Harek has told them, but before they can learn the truth, Parthalan’s borders are attacked. Will Aeolmar and Latera be able to stop the deva’shi in time, or is it a distraction to hide Harek’s true plans?

RISE OF THE DEVA’SHI – book three of the Chronicles of Parthalan

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↓Buy Links↓
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1438978987

Author Bio:

Jennifer

Jennifer Allis Provost is a native New Englander who lives in a sprawling colonial along with her beautiful and precocious twins, a dog, two birds, three cats, and a wonderful husband who never forgets to buy ice cream. As a child, she read anything and everything she could get her hands on, including a set of encyclopedias, but fantasy was always her favorite. She spends her days drinking vast amounts of coffee, arguing with her computer, and avoiding any and all domestic behavior.
Visit her at:

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excerpt

“Will there be women in this village?”

Aeolmar’s gaze slid toward Luth. “Missing Innetha already?”

Luth snorted. “Hardly. She refused to become my mate. Again!”

“Of course she said no,” said Luth’s brother, Bron. “What self-respecting woman would have you?”

Aeolmar almost bit through his tongue; he thought Innetha was many things, but respectable was not one of them.

“I hope there will be women,” Adhaire said, bringing his horse alongside Luth’s. “After I complete my Trial by Stealth, I’ll want to celebrate!”

Aeolmar glanced at the young nuvi, doubtful of his chances. Adhaire recently won the Trial by Combat for a third time, but had only recently mastered calling fire. Aeolmar assumed it would take Adhaire a few tries to master stealth, as well.

“Have faith,” Finlay said. “Adhaire will be a fine hunter.”

“Of course,” Aeolmar agreed, unwilling to say more until Adhaire actually failed. Once that happened, he would petition Asherah to have the useless nuvi removed from the sola and sent far, far away from Teg’urnan.

Not that Aeolmar intended to witness Adhaire’s failure himself. Aeolmar had chosen to hold this exercise outside a village close to his birthplace. Once the Trial was underway, Aeolmar planned to slip away and visit his home. Nothing remained but a charred patch of earth, but it was home, nonetheless.

Aeolmar touched the small bump over his heart. For the journey, he’d taken his mother’s pendant with him, rather than leave it behind in Teg’urnan. He hoped his mother’s spirit rested close to her grave, since he needed her advice now more than ever. He was tired of his life as First Hunter, tired of being alone, of palace life… Gods, he was just tired.

The hunters arrived in the village of Brennus and found the innkeeper, Ingvarr, a man known throughout the west for his hospitality, as his mate, Elma, was for her fine cooking. While Finlay spoke to Ingvarr about boarding the horses, Aeolmar investigated the stables. He’d never left Myrnnhe anyplace he wouldn’t sleep himself, and needed to see his horse’s accommodations.

As Aeolmar approached the stables, he spied movement at the far corner; a small form clad in a tunic and leggings, and a flash of bright hair. Intrigued, he followed the person toward the back of the yard…and almost bumped into a girl coming the other way. She gasped and dropped the saddle she was carrying, then scooped it up an instant.

“May I pass?” she asked, balancing the saddle on her hip.

Realizing that she was the person he’d followed, Aeolmar took a long look at her. Her hair was flame red, bound up in a braid that did a poor job restraining her curls. Her eyes were pale blue, and her skin was golden and a bit burnt across her nose and cheeks. What amazed Aeolmar most was her size. She was hardly larger than a child, yet she had a woman’s curves. And she held that saddle as if it were weightless.

“May I pass?” she repeated, tapping her foot. Aeolmar stepped aside. She stalked past him and placed the saddle on the workbench. After watching her for a moment, Aeolmar joined Finlay and the innkeeper.

“Who is that?” Aeolmar asked, indicating the stable.

“My stable girl, Latera,” Ingvarr replied. “She has a way with horses, you know. Some of my patrons only stop by for her services.”

“We’ll need her to accompany us,” Aeolmar said. Finlay raised an eyebrow, but Aeolmar ignored him. “If we stable our horses here and walk to the location, it will add days to our journey. I’d prefer to take the horses as far as we may.”

“Of course,” Ingvarr said, looking at Latera. She saw the innkeeper’s gaze, then busied herself with the saddle. “Latera is a willful girl, and may refuse just for the sake of refusing. Let me send my mate to speak with her, my lord.”

“I’ll ask her myself,” Aeolmar said, striding toward the stable. Finlay and Ingvarr followed.

“Do we really need to bring her?” Finlay asked.

“How long do you want to be out here, days from Asherah?” Aeolmar countered. When Finlay grunted, Aeolmar assumed his second agreed. Aeolmar entered the stable and confronted the girl behind the workbench.

“I am Aeolmar, First Hunter of Parthalan,” he announced.

“I’m Latera, and I brush the horses,” she replied, her gaze on her work.

“Please excuse her, my lord,” Ingvarr said. “She’s a human who was lost here and is still learning our ways.” Ingvarr glared at Latera and added, “She claims she was royalty in her homeland.”

Aeolmar looked at Latera, noting her slanted eyes and pointed ears. “Why do you look like one of us if you’re human?”

“I didn’t always,” she replied. “I’m told it’s the effect of the realm.”

Aeolmar had known many humans, and none had taken on fae characteristics. In the midst of wondering who had told Latera such lies, he realized he was frowning at her. He lightened his expression and continued. “My hunters and I will make camp a short distance from here for two nights. We will need someone to care for our horses. Ingvarr tells me that you have a way with them.”

“Hunters or horses?”

His eyes narrowed. “The latter.”

“Yes, I do,” Latera replied. “Will you stable them here?”

“No. You will travel with us.”

Understanding dawned in her pale eyes and she glanced at Ingvarr. “Won’t I get in the way of your hunt?”

“We aren’t hunting,” Aeolmar replied, “This is a training mission. My hunters have scouted the area, and there are no demons nearby. You won’t be in any danger.”

Latera was silent for a time. It was an unusual request to take a young woman into the forest with five hunters, but Aeolmar believed it was a necessity. Her presence meant that the hunters wouldn’t need to worry about their mounts, and therefore get the Trial over with sooner. Then the hunters would be safe at Teg’urnan, and Latera back in her stable.

“Very well,” Latera said. “When do we leave?”

 

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Blog Tour ~ The Gaia Effect ~ Excerpt

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Blog Tour ~ The Gaia Effect

Author: Claire Buss

Genre:  Fantasy/Science Fiction/ Post-Apocalyptic

Tour Dates: 20th-24th of March

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:

In City 42 Corporation look after you from cradle to grave. They protect you from the radiation outside the wall. They control the food, the water, the technology and most important of all, the continuation of the human race. Kira and Jed Jenkins were lucky enough to win Collection but when their friends start falling pregnant naturally, everything changes. How long has Corporation been lying to them? Is it really toxic outside the wall? As the group comes to terms with the changes in their lives they discover there is a much more powerful and ancient force at work, trying to bridge the gap between man and nature.

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↓Buy Links↓

https://www.amazon.com/Gaia-Effect-Claire-Buss-ebook/dp/B01N7KT80X

Author Bio:

Claire Buss

Claire Buss is a science fiction/fantasy writer currently based in Barking, Essex. She wanted to be Lois Lane when she grew up but work experience at her local paper was eye-opening. Instead Claire went on to work in a variety of admin roles for over a decade but never felt quite at home. An avid reader, baker and pinterest addict Claire won second place in the Barking and Dagenham Pen to Print writing competition in 2015 with The Gaia Effect and set her writing career in motion.

Visit her at:

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excerpt

 

 

‘What are you two doing here?’ Kira whispered as Jed and Pete followed the Infant Growth Assessor lady into the apartment and closed the door behind them. Pete pursed his lips and Jed frowned as they both saw the activated cocoon. The IGA ignored it and pulled out a touchscreen.

‘Later,’ Jed murmured.

‘Good afternoon, I’m your IGA,’ announced the woman. ‘Who are the parents?’

‘We are.’ Jed pointed at his wife and put on his best smile as he ushered the IGA into the kitchen area and offered her a beverage. Pete looked at the cocoon again. Kira nibbled her fingernails, turning towards the cube when Grace began to cry. She teetered, not knowing whether to go to her or speak with the IGA. In the end the plaintive noise decided her, and she scooped the baby up, rocking Grace gently, and humming as she walked over to the others.

 

‘I’m here to carry out an infant suitability assessment not drink synth-caf, but I suppose one would be nice. It’s not often we get time to indulge while at work. I’m surprised you even have the drinks machine given your requests.’

Jed and Kira looked at each other in confusion.

‘Requests?’ Kira asked.

‘Ah, sorry, we thought you’d be non-conformers you see, because of the no technology request. I mean almost all parents have a NanNan these days and we just thought… well, you know.’ The IGA coloured slightly as she sipped her synth-caf. ‘No offence.’

‘None taken,’ Kira said smiling. ‘We’re not pure naturals but we wanted to try the natural approach with the baby. After my studies I was curious….’

The IGA interrupted.

‘Oh I see, hobbyists then. Well each to their own. I’ll leave the paperwork for the NanNan as well as our latest brochure and then when you want to order, everything will be there for you.’

‘If,’ whispered Kira under her breath.

The agent frowned as she walked around the lounge area.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing at the lit candle in the corner of the room.

‘Oh. Mm, that’s mine. I was just meditating before you arrived.’

‘Meditating?’

‘Yes. You never heard of it?’

‘No. I mean not in real life.’ The IGA patted her neat bun. ‘I read history at Higher Academy you know, I remember some of the strange customs.’ She moved closer peering at the candle on the small table. ‘So what do you do with it?’

‘Well,’ Kira had followed the IGA into the lounge and she sat down with Grace. ‘I believe in balance, so sometimes when I feel stressed or out of sorts I like to try and focus my energy on releasing the things that made me feel out of balance. It’s easier to think of it in terms of light and colour, moving from dark to bright,’ Kira paused, searching for something else to say. ‘Controlled breathing helps….’

The IGA interrupted again and pointed at the small blue statue.

‘And who is that?’

‘That’s Gaia. She is the spirit of the Earth, dedicated to keeping the life force of the planet in balance. She can be used as a focus point.’ Kira could see the IGA was looking troubled. ‘I work in the Archives so I have approved access.’

‘Ah, well I guess that makes sense. Not sure how I would write this up anyway. Probably best not to mention it to anyone. I expect it’s quite a personal thing and let’s face it we don’t tell everyone about everything we do behind closed doors do we?’

The IGA glanced at the cocoon before turning to look at Kira and smiling, not realising how offensive she sounded. Kira agreed, in disbelief yet relief that the topic would be dropped. The IGA finished her drink and fished out her paperwork.

‘Right, here’s my checklist. Neural jack’s in use?’

‘No’.

‘Nan-Nan installed – no. Scent patches activated?’

‘No’.

‘Cube ordered?’

‘Yes.’

‘Type?’

‘Standard sleeping, able to move around our apartment.’

‘Hmm,’ the IGA looked down her list. ‘I don’t think there’s much point in me going through the rest of the options. They are all classified as high-tech and you’ve clearly decided against that kind of help. I don’t think there’s anything else I can do for you today.’

‘Don’t you want to look at the baby?’ Kira queried.

‘Do you mind a health probe?’

‘Is it non-invasive?’

‘It can be.’

‘Alright then.’

Kira watched suspiciously while the IGA brought out a handheld, pressed some buttons and then directed the scan towards Grace laying in her cube. Several bleeps later the IGA handed Kira a readout.

‘It’s all good. Remember to visit your local Med Centre if you have any queries. Do you have a medical handheld?’

Kira shook her head.

‘Well, you might want to look into that otherwise how will you know if the baby is okay? Contact your local Agent, they’ll have what you need. I’d recommend a health check at six weeks but obviously get in touch beforehand if you have any worries. Babies are tough little things.’

The IGA gathered her things. After a cheery goodbye she left the apartment.

 

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Chameleon Uncovered ~ Release Day Blitz

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Book Title: Chameleon Uncovered

Author Name: B.R. Kingsolver

Genre: Urban Fantasy, science fiction, post-apocalyptic dystopian

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:

The dark sequel to the best-selling Chameleon Assassin.

Libby has a chance to build a legitimate reputation when she’s hired by one of the world’s most prestigious museums to bolster their security. The gig is in Chicago, where her heartthrob lives, so she hopes for a little romance.

She’s on a first-name basis with larceny, mayhem, and death, but Libby’s not used to being on the receiving end. Chicago is far darker and more dangerous than her native Toronto. Amidst terrorist bombings, stolen treasure, and murder, a mutant prophet calls for revolution. Away from her family and friends, Libby has nowhere to turn as enemies assault her from all sides.

Their mistake. Libby is a dangerous enemy.

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Author Bio:

I made silver and turquoise jewelry for almost a decade, ended up in nursing school, then took a master’s in business. Along the way I worked in construction, as a newspaper editor, a teacher, and somehow found a career working with computers.

As to my other interests, I love the outdoors, especially the Rocky Mountains. I’ve skied since high school, with one broken leg and one torn ACL to show for it. I’ve hiked and camped all my life. I love to travel, though I haven’t done enough of it. I’ve seen a lot of Russia and Mexico, not enough of England. Amsterdam is amazing, and the Romanian Alps are breathtaking. Lake Tahoe is a favorite, and someday I’d like to see Banff.

For special deals and news about new books, sign up for my newsletter.

http://brkingsolver.us1.list-manage.c…

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Blog Tour ~ Blue Waters ~ With Excerpt

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Book Title: Blue Waters

Author Name: India R Adams

Genre: Young Adult/Romance

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:

 

“The blue water I sank through was angelic, quiet, peaceful…”

Whitney is a vivacious, highly spirited 17-year-old girl. Her motto, “Live life to the fullest” is derailed when the young man, who’s captured her attention, turns out to be the son of a drug tycoon- the same that provided the drugs that killed her brother. Whitney believes she simply need to heal from her first heartache, not knowing she is a part of a devious trade, one against human rights, and she has been… since the day age was born.

Blue Waters is the first Novella in a Tainted Waters, and begins a story of deception, corruption, self-discovery, and love with all that it demands you sacrifice…

“There was a beauty in dying that day…”

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29207112-blue-waters

 

 

 

↓Buy Links↓

 

Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/Blue-Waters-Tainted-Water-Novella-ebook/dp/B01BFSOD5S

 

Author Bio:

india-r-adams


India R Adams is an author/singer/songwriter who has written YA and NA novels, and the music for the Forever series.

India was born and raised in Florida but has also been so lucky as to live in Idaho (where she froze but fell in love with the small town life), Austin Texas (where she started her first book, Serenity, and met wonderful artist), and now Murphy, North Carolina (where the mountains have stolen a piece of her heart).

Being a survivor of abuse, has inspired India to let others know they have nothing to be ashamed of. She put her many years of professional theater background to the test and has written fictional stories with a shadow of her personal experiences. She says, “I’m simply finding ways to empower perfect imperfections.”

Another cause India feels needs change, is Sexual Slavery. She has joined forces with jewelers to design beautiful ways to raise money for non-profit organizations. Even though India writes about serious subjects such as domestic violence, sexual abuse, and Human Trafficking, she has a magnificent sense of humor, as do the characters she creates. Perfectly balanced between laughter and tears, her readers see how to empower their own perfect imperfections.

Visit her at:

Website: http://www.indiaradams.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/IndiaRAdams

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheIndiaRAdams

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/India-R-Adams/e/B01BLPKULQ

 

excerpt

 

 

 

I ran to the concession counter to see Frank had abandoned his post. Without an employee in sight, and a movie guy refusing to push pause, I took my only option. I climbed over the counter to get my own damn butter.

As I was falling off the other side of the counter—after a shameful ass-in-the-air presentation—it was evidently clear Harlan was right. I might have been one hell of a dancer, and had a rare audition with Tender West’s summer dance program, but I truly was a complete klutz.

After pulling myself off a filthy floor, I wiped questionable grease off my palms and mailbag and grabbed my bucket of popcorn—and yes, I refilled it, deciding I was a regular and deserved a couple of free kernels. Feeling giddy at finally having control over the infamous butter machine, I swore angels sung in harmony, and I smiled and squealed in delight.

When I heard a chuckle behind me, my nervous stealing hands threw my bucket of popcorn up into the air, announcing my guilt. I turned to see who had busted me and looked into the most mysterious, trouble-promising, male blue eyes in the whole wide world.

The rough-looking character with darker hair and a medium-sized scar above his left eyebrow stood on the ‘proper’ side of the counter, where I should have been, and watched popcorn fall from my unruly red hair. “Damn, sorry to have scared you. I just need a water. How much will it be?”

Fighting the desire to lick the individual before me, I uttered, “Uh,” before looking up at the price menu on the wall behind me. “Ummm a dollar seventy-five… Damn! They charge a buck seventy-five for a water? That is redunkulous!”

As tatted fingers reached into a leather wallet, Mr. Lickable said, “You have unusual sale tactics.”

Being a tad bit stunned by this guy, who pleasantly appeared to be everything mamas warn young girls about, I was slow to realize he thought I was a theater employee. Since my mother never took the time to warn me about such things, and turning down an opportunity for a good time was against my religion, I agreed. “That’s what the owner said in my job interview. Yep! That’s me: Franket.”

Tilting his head and exposing a partially tattooed neck, he asked, “Your name is Franket?” The tattoo saying, “Life 1982” was clearly significant, but it being along his jugular seemed even more so.

I shrugged. “I know. My parents must hate me, right?”

He grinned, and I was instantly intrigued, especially when the stranger said, “Far too cute to be a Franket, but I think you can more than pull off a Franky. Do you mind?”

This stranger danger could’ve decided to rename me ‘Mug Rat El Stinky,’ and I would’ve still replied, “Works for me! My mom may not like it, but she needs to pipe it down anyway, or I’m telling my dad she’s sleeping with the pool boy.”

“You have a pool boy, yet you work here?”

“Not my pool boy, remember? Mother’s pool toy—I mean boy.”

“You’re a natural born hell-raiser, ain’t cha?”

I approved of his approving tone. Then I thought of what my Link had said earlier. “Born ready.” I reached into the fridge for the water bottle and set it on the counter. “That’ll be one seventy-five.”

“No tax?”

“Huh?”

Mr. Lickable snickered. “There’s more of that talent you must’ve been hired for.”

“Like you said, Mr. Water Purchaser, I’m cute. Probably how I got the job, right?”

“I’d hire you.” Somehow, I understood he was implying more, but I played along.

“You have a movie theater?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry. Seems you and I are over before we ever even began.”

“Oh, something has begun here, and you and I both know it.”

Boy, did I! I gripped the counter so I wouldn’t humiliate myself by throwing my willing body right back over the counter where I had come from, offering myself on a popcorn platter. Ah, but playing hard to get was so much more fun, so I had to do it. “Sorry, on the clock. And I have three mouths to feed, so I’ve gotta keep earning my pathetic excuse for a paycheck.”

He playfully shook his head. “How old are you? Mouths to feed?”

“Yeppers. My adopted boys. Reether, Harlan, and Ford. And I’m seventeen. Jailbait for you, I presume?”

“I’d take my chances with jail time, but I’m not ready for kids, Franky.”

“Too late. I’m a package deal.”

He put down a five on the counter. “Damn. Well, at least keep the change—for your boys.”

“Had every intention to.” I watched the bad boy in the making slip from my incapable grasp. His black T-shirt was snug, taunting me to take a gander at shoulders that were surely strong and perfectly molded, but I got preoccupied with his snug jeans that ever-so-gently caressed the cutest ass known to man. I whispered to myself, “Here’s to one-sided mental affairs.”

I gasped when I saw another tattoo on the back of his neck, along his spinal cord. It read, “Death 1995.” We were in 2013.

 

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PINK MOON ~ BLOG TOUR ~ GIVEAWAY & EXCERPT

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Book Title: Pink Moon

Author Name: Tonya Coffey

Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy/Romance

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

 

Blurb:

 

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Cast from her home, Jessa struggles to find a place among the realms. With the loss of power, her premonitions are vague and tormenting. However with Micha at her side, she has hope for the future.

Micha has found his stride as the Ancient King. Nevertheless, the Shadows refuse to allow a Faerie sit on the Ancients’ throne, keeping them apart. Instead of fighting against he Shadows, he focuses his rage on the one who stole Jessa’s powers, a hidden heir herself. When he thinks he has everything under control, he is pulled into a dire situation that will force Jessa’s hand.

Accepting what needs to be done, Jessa takes a risk to save Micha – a choice that may be her last.

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↓Buy Links↓

 

Amazon.com  https://www.amazon.com/New-World-Bk-Pink-Moon-ebook/dp/B01N6968RI

 

 

Author Bio:

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Tonya grew up in a small town in Kentucky where she lives with her husband and two teen boys. Together, they motivate her to be the best at whatever she faces. If she isn’t writing or reading a fantasy novel with lots of action, you will find her sitting in front of a canvas, painting the landscape which is so abundant around her home.

Visit her at:

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TO ENTER THE GIVEAWAY  JUST CLICK HERE

 

excerpt

 

 

Chapter 2

Micha

The dark chamber rattled as the Shadows filtered in from the depths of darkness and into their perspective throne. Marcus stood before me, a slight smile on his lips. It was an odd appearance to a man who seldom showed emotion.

As I hesitantly walked to the center of the room, whispers echoed around me. My eyes constantly drifted between each of the Shadows and to Marcus, as I tried to understand what was happening. From time to time, words of praise filtered in with word of the Sylph.

Drawing in a breath of stale air, I focused on Marcus and the consequences of my actions. Bren warned me. However, I was too stubborn to listen.

Marcus raised his hand, signaling the others to be quiet as he addressed the king. The crackling of wood in the oversized fireplace filled the silence around us.

“Well done, Micha, King of Ancients.” His voice boomed against the rock walls and carried into the tall ceiling. “We are pleased you took initiative, freeing our people from the Falls.” A rolling echo of conformation carried around the room.

I stood speechless. No words came to mind, as I stood before them. I could not say I did it for a Faery or their queen. They would not understand…or would they? She was the same as I. A mixture of Light and Dark. Would they see her as one of us?

“What do you say, King Micha?” Marcus’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

Clearing my throat, I pulled some words together. “I did not do it for the praise you bestow upon me. I did it for the…love…I have for the people.” I spoke with some truth.

Marcus stared at me. His eyes narrowed, as if he could read my inner thoughts. Swallowing the lump rising in my throat, I hoped he was blind to my heart. To the real reason, I put myself in danger.

Instead, Marcus lifted his hands up in front of him and clapped. The Shadows followed suite as if they had no mind of their own. Marcus was the puppeteer.

“I am honored to serve such a selfless king.” Bren stepped forward, offering me his hand. I turned to face him and noticed the Bookkeeper hovering in the back corner.

My eyes drifted to the book he clung to then back to Bren. His face held annoyance and his voice was full of sarcasm when he spoke. Then the realization hit me. He tried to warn me. For me to wait for the Ancients, but I refused. Therefore, I would receive the consequences of my actions. The Keeper was there to tell me of my fate—my doom.

“Welcome Keeper,” Marcus called from his throne. “Please read for us the results of a courageous king.”

As the Keeper flipped his book open, he moved forward to stand next to me. I noticed he was not the same blubbering, clumsy man as the first time I had met him. He was confident now. I wondered if I had a hand in the transformation.

“I tried to warn you,” Bren whispered at my side.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I asked, “Warn me about what exactly?” It could not be as bad as he anticipated. Could it?

“You must…”

The Keeper began to read from his book, drowning out Bren’s whisper. “When a king shows compassion and selflessness for his people, it reflects his power and, therefore, he shall pass on that strength to an heir.”

My body went slack. Did I hear him right? I felt as if my world had been ripped away and I was left floating in space. Closing my eyes, I wanted to scream, why?

Turning to Bren, his face solemn, I wanted to strangle him for allowing me to do something that jeopardized my life with Jess. I frowned at him. You should have told me.

“Thank you, Keeper,” Marcus said, “You may go.”

As the Keeper walked away, I turned, facing Bren fully. “Why did you not tell me?”

“I tried,” he whispered, “You would not listen.”

Frustrated, I knew he was right. I would not listen. Jess was in danger and it did not matter what I had to face. Still, I would do it all again.

“I will do what I can to fix it.”

Nodding, I took a breath and faced Marcus.

“Please come forward, King Micha.” As if my soul left my body, I stepped forward meeting Marcus at the bottom of his throne. “We took the liberty of choosing a few beautiful girls who we feel would make strong queens.”

Lifelessly, I followed Marcus to my quarters, Bren lagged behind. “These girls are strong minded, smart and from a worthy line.” He smiled. “Everything you need to carry on your legacy.”

Marcus opened the door, revealing a line of girls waiting in the long hallway outside my chambers. Exhaling, I glanced to Bren. He shrugged as if he knew nothing of it.

“You have until night fall to choose one who…tickles your fancy.”

Marcus turned away as each of the Shadows vanished. Bren closed the distance between us looking down the hallway, as I asked, “How will you fix this?”

Bren placed his palm on my shoulder. “I am not sure but have some faith in me.”

Bren began to walk forward but I grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Let’s walk around and enter through the other door. I am not ready to face them yet.” He nodded and closed the door. I only wished it was on the entire ordeal.

 

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The Shaman’s Carving ~ Blog Tour with Give& Excerpt

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Title: The Shaman’s Carving
Author: Jordan Altman
Genre: Fantasy
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

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Blurb:
Elia is tired of her life as a peasant, the young girl seeks adventure and fame. With her best friend, the Baron’s son, in tow, the children enter the forbidden ruins where a gift of magic awaits to be discovered. For hidden deep in the mysterious ancient city sits a totem, a magical carving that will change the lives of all those within the Barony of Riverhill forever. Yet, stalking the children lurks a creature with a dark purpose. A choice lays before Elia, to let sleeping dogs lie or to pursue the mystic arts of becoming a wizard in Shamanism.

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Buy Links: https://www.amazon.com/Shamans-Carving-Jordan-Altman-ebook/dp/B01MRN99X3/

Author Bio:

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Jordan Altman is a Geologist who has worked from the Land of the Midnight Sun to the Canadian Shield. Recently taking up creative writing, his adventures within reality are now being matched by those of his imagination.

Author’s Social Media Links:

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excerpt

From Chapter 1

“I don’t think we should enter the ruins,” said Locrian with a quaver of fear in his voice. His squinting eyes peered beyond Elia, viewing a stone city overrun with the return of nature. “Maybe we should turn around?”

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” Elia smirked at Locrian who was keeled over, gasping for air. He was the only overweight child in the village.

While waiting for her friend to recover from the climb, Elia gazed across the valley to her village and the high castle of their Liege Lord. “The Baron will be happy you got your exercise for the day, plus there’s the return trip too!”

“Don’t mention the hike back yet, I’d roll down the hill to the river if we tried now.” Locrian sat down on the dew-covered weeds then looked up to Elia. “My father won’t be happy if we enter the haunted ruins.”

“Then we won’t tell him, will we?” quipped Elia as she walked away from Locrian towards a crumbled wall of grey stone. The thrill of adventure made her excited, and a haunted city destroyed ages ago promised its fill. She unslung a burlap sack from her shoulder. Opening it, Elia plucked out a fistful of berries she collected along the way and tossed them into her mouth.

“Can’t we sit for a while?” moaned Locrian from behind. His lungs wheezed with every exhale.

Elia turned, brushing aside her oily hair in a futile effort as the bangs returned to drape over her dark brown eyes.

“You want to sit? After all those stories we’ve learnt about the haunted ruins; the monster, the siege, the ghost, and all you want to do is sit?” exclaimed Elia with a mouthful of berries.

“All those stories and you want to go in!” burst out Locrian.

Elia walked over to him and put out her arms for Locrian to reach. Once their hands interlocked, she heaved herself backwards, pulling the boy up to his feet while almost falling rearward herself. They had to stick together for neither had any other friends. Bullies in town would pick on Locrian for his weight and Elia for being more of a boy than a proper girl.

“Your beautiful clothes are all wet,” said Elia as she admired his well-tailored cloth over the tattered garbs of peasantry she wore.

“That’s more from the sweat than the dew,” said Locrian.

Elia led the way as Locrian followed. They glided their finger tips along the moist tips of the waist-high grass. Upon entering through a hole in the wall, one of many, they surveyed the ruins before them. The ancient city appeared to stretch out to eternity, though many of the crumbled structures laid hidden in the overgrowth of centuries.

“Wow, this place is a hundred times larger than your father’s castle and courtyard,” said Elia with awe. She always gazed at the ruins from afar, imagining how they appeared up close. Yet, now here, the ancient city had gone beyond surpassing her expectations. “It must have taken forever to build all of this!” Elia admired the limestone blocks. She tore at the vines, setting free the slabs of stone and the weathered masonry. Elia gasped at what appeared underfoot. “Look, even the ground is stone.”

Locrian looked down and kicked at the grass and dirt until the cobbles of the road emerged, weathered and broken. “What happened here?” he asked as much to himself as to Elia.

Elia paused, she looked around, no longer taking in the view, but inspecting it. “The stories I was taught say a monster sacked the city, perhaps a dragon. By the look of all the caved-in buildings, that might be true. Though, maybe not… Dragons can breathe out fire that melts rock. These ruins are all broken, not scorched.”

“A monster?”

“Yep, and a big one too!” Elia played with Locrian’s fear. She knew he didn’t like monsters, and dragons were his least favourite.

“Well, the stories I’ve been told weren’t of what happened here long ago. I was taught about the dangers of entering the forbidden ruins. Ghosts and ghouls that will frighten me to death, creatures that will eat me alive, and plants that will poison me till I bloat and explode. Then if I somehow make it back unharmed, I’d risk my father’s wrath at being disobeyed.” Locrian looked back towards the direction of home. “Let’s go back, we’ve checked this place out. Now, we should return before anyone finds us missing.”

“We haven’t explored yet. Plus, if they never notice us when we’re there, no one will notice us missing.”  She didn’t want to return. Home had misery but this place offered excitement. “I want to see more.” She then turned to Locrian. “You have your castle, all I have to visit is the wheat fields, and the pig pens. This is like a whole new world; it’s waiting for us to discover it. Let’s be explorers and see if we can find any treasures.”

Elia walked deeper into the foliage covered urban landscape, not looking back. She walked with determination and confidence. Any fear from the stories, which Elia had, she ignored as they were being outmatched by the prospect of adventure.

“Hey, wait up!”

The two children disappeared into the ruins where the only sound was a girl’s vocalised astonishment and a boy’s wheezing.

Elia grabbed hold of a vine and pulled herself up. As she climbed an old oak, Locrian stood at the base and watched.

“It’s not my castle,” said Locrian in a whisper.

“What’s that?” asked Elia from above. She loved climbing trees. When Elia sat at the top of a tree she always felt better about her life. She no longer was tied down to the world, a tree offered her a glimpse at freedom.

“You said, it’s my castle. It’s not. It’s more akin to a prison.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I live in a shack, with two brothers and four sisters. Three of us eat one day, the others, the next. I sleep on a pile of hay that gives me a rash in the morning.” From the tree’s top, Elia saw more of the ruins.  She spotted a large building with a dome further to their south.

“Sorry,” said Locrian as he lowered his head.

“Plus, one day you’ll be the Baron,” said Elia with emotion, trying to cheer him up. Sadness then draped over her. “One day, you’ll forget about me and marry a Lady. I’ll be nothing but a farmhand, working in the fields.”

“Me, a Baron?”

Elia knew Locrian didn’t like the prospect of succeeding his father. “Yep, and you’ll rule the whole village!”

“Well, when I become the Baron, I’ll Knight you!” he told Elia as she climbed down and returned to his side.

“A Knight!” she exclaimed with excitement. “Imagine, Sir Elia, Knight of the Barony of Riverhill!” With a grand smirk, she jumped up and snapped off a branch from the oak.

“I don’t think people would call you Sir Elia as you are a girl.”

“Do I get a sword?”

“Yes, of course you do.”

“Good! Then the people will call me whatever I want!” Elia’s smirk reappeared as she swiped at the tree’s trunk with her branch of a sword. “Come on, I saw somewhere I want to check out.”

They continued on through the ancient city, weaving their way through the overgrowth and slabs of grey stone. Elia sang a tune about an old knight who slew a giant as the sun shined in their eyes.

“Still a few hours till noon, but we should head back soon.” Locrian’s voice wavered with anxiety.

“After this last place I want to see, we’ll call it a day and return to the village.” Elia sang and skipped while attacking the air with her tree branch. “Maybe, we’ll find a real sword in the domed building.” At the prospect of steel in her hand, she quickened her pace while Locrian followed with hesitation.

Thick, green vines tangled their way up the structure, knotting over one another. The domed citadel sat in disrepair before them. Ten storeys tall was the building, with a diameter of 30 yards. An old elm grew from within, emerging through the dome, in a bloom of life.

“Let’s go in,” said Elia with excitement.

Before Locrian could protest, she grabbed his hand and pulled him through a pair of stone doors set ajar.

Inside, the brightness of the day faded away to an ominous grey. Illumination came from beams of light, pillars of the sun which shot through holes and cracks in the ceiling.

The vegetation was different than outside. There was no grass. Only a few fat weeds grew between the crags in the stone floor. Dendritic purple moss covered the rest of the ground while red mushrooms grew, some big enough to sit on.

“I don’t like it in here,” said Locrian. “One of my teachers taught me how poisonous some mushrooms can be, and these looked rather troublesome. Plus, it’s kind of dark in here.

“It’s kinda spooky, isn’t it?” Elia looked around at the shambled structure. The dank place was full of decay and shadows. “I love it!”

They passed through tight hallways, over piles of rubble and crawled through a constricted room where the roof had caved in. At last, they entered the main chamber with the grand dome overhead.

The area was massive, consisting the majority of the building. The chamber was colossal compared to the dining hall of the Baron’s castle. At the far end, an elm tree grew through the roof, creating shifting shadows.

The children walked in deeper, breathing in the stale air and smelling the strong scent of sour vegetation. Elia shivered at the temperature as the cooling interior and darkness created an illusion of night.

“This must have been the main administrative building of the city,” stated Locrian.

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s a place where the city rulers govern and hold meetings,” said Locrian.

“Ummm, okay.” Elia didn’t like the majority of subjects taught to Locrian. Only when he spoke of Sir Vuhtre’s weapons training did she ever perk up and pry every last morsel of information from him.

“What’s that?” asked Elia, seeing something small standing on the floor with a beam of light shining straight down upon it. It appeared to be a little statue or something similar.

“What’s what?” Locrian quickened his pace to form up beside Elia, wanting a look for himself but tripped over a vine that grabbed at his foot.

The sound of his fall reverberated inside the chamber. With the bouncing of the echoes went a cloud of bats that hung in the dome’s rafters. The flying rodents flew over their heads, screeching at them. Locrian screamed while Elia swatted at them with her branch. They swirled above them until finding a hole in the dome to escape into the bright daylight outside.

“I want to go home!” cried out Locrian as he tried to untangle himself from the vine that wrapped itself around his ankle.

“Okay, give me a moment, though.”

“Where are you going? Come on, let’s go!”

Elia left Locrian’s side and dashed over to the small object several yards away. She stood over it, then bent down and snatched it up. It felt like a wooden carving in her hands, but under the rush of Locrian’s nagging, she didn’t have the time to make out the sculpture’s appearance.

“What was that noise?” Locrian asked on the edge of tears.

Elia stuffed the carving into a pocket within her garments and stood silent, straining her ears. “I hear nothing, it’s only your imagination.”

“No, I heard something,” protested Locrian, demanding Elia stop and listen.

An irregular wind emerged from within the recess of the derelict building. The noise wheezed, like Locrian after a run, but also gargled as it resonated off the stone and vegetation.

Elia returned to Locrian’s side, shaking with him but refusing to budge as they listened to the unbalanced wind.

“It’s not the wind,” whispered Elia into Locrian’s ear. “It’s something breathing.”
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Blog Tour ~ The Rise of the Queen ~ Excerpt with Giveaway

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Title: The Rise of the Queen

Author: Aoife Marie Sheridan

Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy/Romance

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

 

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Blurb:

 

FROM AWARD WINNING AUTHOR AOIFE MARIE SHERIDAN

The final Instalment of the Saskia Trilogy.

Sarajane struggles with her separation from Tristan as she moves towards the heart of Saskia to defeat Lucian. But her journey isn’t easy. She encounters The Forsaken, zombies and fights to recover her true form. But with Marcus beside her and the help of Willow she makes her journey to her final destination but nothing is as it seems.

Verona and Mirium try to understand why their visions are gone, what Prudentia is up to? and find Sarajane. All the while Tristan and Verona are at war with each other, and politics makes each decision difficult with Morrick.

Loved one’s will be lost, Decisions will be final, and all betrayals will rise to the surface.

Step into Saskia for the last time.

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About the Author:

 

Aoife Marie Sheridan has loved reading from a very young age, starting off with mills and boon books given to by her grandmother. Her love for romances grew, by the age of 14 she had read hundreds of them.

Aoife has a passion for writing poetry or in her eyes her journal entries. It was something she did throughout her teens and into her twenties. Aoife won first place for two of her poems and had them published at a young age of just nineteen.

Aoife’s first book Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) took first place with Writers Got Talent 2013. Aoife continues to write tales of fantasy and romance.

To find out more about Aoife Marie Sheridan you can visit her at:

Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00B5W8SK6

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Aoifemariesheri

Website: www.aoifemariesheridan.com

or email her at aoifesheridan101@gmail.com

Blog: aoifesheri.wordpress.com

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excerpt

 

Chapter ~ 1 ~ Verona

 

The room felt bitterly cold from my earlier absence; I lighted the two candles that sat on a small wooden table beside the unlit fire. The armchair creaked under my weight. My eyelids fluttered feeling too heavy to keep open. Too many vision had plagued me lately, every one of them the same, always the same. I let out a heavy sigh. A smile tugged on my lips.

Mirium.

He would light the fire.

The door opened and I looked up at Mirium as he rubbed his hands together, already making his way to the fireplace. Too pampered, I had always teased him, but that tonight I would be glad of his want for heat, for I felt the cold myself.

“Verona, you will catch your death of cold one day.”

A laugh escaped my lips. “Oh brother just light the fire. I am too tired to fight.”

He looked at me with concern, but shook his head and continued to stack small sticks into the fireplace before lighting them. I drifted off into a light sleep, still aware of the movements around me. I could hear the noise of water. The rattle of mugs. He must have been brewing some sort of concoction, but there was none that stopped the visions. At least the brew would warm me.

“Drink Sister of mine.” He said the words so gently.

I took the cup and smiled at Mirium’s loving face. It wasn’t often we could be like that, so unguarded, so relaxed, allowing us to be just a brother and sister, to act naturally, instead of always being under the watchful eye of someone who would use us against each other. Our distance with each other was the only way to keep us safe.

“Tell me about the visions, are they still the same?” Mirium sat down, while leaning his staff against the corner of the red bricked fireplace. The fireplace was done in a beautiful arch, the craftsmanship remarkable.

“I don’t recall the first one, but I know I have been having the same vision from when I was a child. I see her so clearly, long, dark, curly hair flowing on a light breeze. Her eyes are an unnatural grey, but a grey I have seen before.” I take a long look at Mirium and the eyes I speak of. A sadness fell upon him, but I continued. “She was really beautiful. I always remember being awed by her beauty, thinking she couldn’t be real, but she was. She was very real, and more enchanting in person.” I shake my head pushing away the picture that played out so clearly in front of me; we all know the end.  Sipping my brew stops me from talking.

“You have known for so long,” Mirium said while looking at me with pity, understanding the path that had been laid out before me. I didn’t want to do it, but that was the way of the world. I had no choice.

“I told you not to get too close, Mirium. You should have listened to me.” I didn’t say it with anger, as I was too tired for that, just pity at the understanding of what my brother may have to lose.

A heavy silence fell upon us. I didn’t want it to be like that, as our reunion should have been full of chatter. Since I arrived to Hummus it had been all business. With the war against the exiles and banishing Suraga, we hadn’t had time to just be  brother and sister, but instead we now sit in silence. I didn’t want silence, but I had nothing to fill in the gaps.

“It is God’s will,” Mirium said, and he seemed lost in thought for a few more moments. “I don’t feel her. Do you?” he asked not in alarm just more mild curiosity. Mirium could always seem to feel Sarajane. I think it was her life force he felt but I couldn’t. I wasn’t as gifted as Mirium and he knew it.

“I’m not like you brother as well you know, so don’t jest me with such questions.” A niggling feeling ran across me, like hundreds of spiders racing across my bare flesh at once.

“What’s wrong?” Mirium asked.Now fear filled his voice, and I knew he sensed it too. I was unsure what, but something very bad had just happened.

Mirium grabbed his staff while I tied my long red cloak around my shoulders it would be no match for the weather that had started to rage outside, but I just knew that we needed to move, and fast.

 

The wind outside whipped at us likes an angry circus entertainer, but we moved fast against its onslaught. The streets were now deserted, people still in mourning or celebrating our small victory against the exiles; it was a small victory compared to what we must face and that was Lucian, a dark fallen angel who Sarajane must banish to the underworld.

The fires from the dead were nearly out. Red embers danced with the wind swirling them around in fast moving spheres.  I turned in a full circle, the sensation was gone, leaving me feeling only the cold. But something had happened.

“Let me go and check on Sarajane. You go back to the cottage,” Mirium said, his brow creased. He left not waiting for a reply from me. His love for Sarajane was becoming too much. He would lose her, he needed to understand that. He would be the one that would hurt the most in the end.

Mirium was Sarajane’s grandfather. He had missed the first twenty one years of her life as she was brought up in the mortal world with no knowledge of Saskia. But the time had come for her to take her rightful place and go up against Lucian. It was a huge task to ask of anyone, especially from someone who came from a world where magic and angels didn’t exist. I let out a heavy sigh so much weighted upon her final decision in the future. It was life or death. All I could do was hope that my hands wouldn’t bring death to the saviour of Saskia.

I moved towards the cottage, turning my back on the dead and that horrible feeling raced across my skin again. I turned, but no one was in sight. Moving slowly towards the fires that lay just outside Humus’s fallen walls, I searched the perimeter. I couldn’t see much as the darkness was heavy and lay thickly on the ground. Squinting out into the darkness, I was sure something moved. I stood and waited, watching. There it was again.

How long I waited for Mirium, I wasn’t sure, but I rubbed my freezing hands together never taking my eyes off the spot where something lay. I had made that much out so far but what it was, I couldn’t see from that distance.

“I can’t find her, or Tristan for that matter.” Mirium said. I smiled against the bitter cold.

“Their young,” I said, already knowing I was wrong and just wishing I was right.

“Something’s out there.” I pointed and Mirium followed my finger. He too squinted and then he moved towards it with certainty. I followed quickly on his heels. The darkness seemed to consume us, its black blanket swallowing us up the deeper we went. I shivered against the cold and the unpleasant feeling that clung to me. Mirium had reached the area where the movements where. I came up right behind him. “What is it?” I asked, trying to see over his shoulder. When he turned around I could see what he was looking at. My breath hitched. Tristan was crumbled on the ground; a large pool of blood ran from underneath him. The source of the wound came from an arrow protruding out of his side.

“Is he dead?” I asked as I reached to check the pulse in his neck. It was fading.

“He will be soon if we don’t get him out of here,” Mirium said with grief all over his face.

“Sarajane?” I questioned, afraid of the answer.

Mirium shook his head, the grief too much. “I don’t know, Verona. I don’t know.”

I patted my brother on the back, hoping the small gesture would comfort him before we both lifted Tristan and carried him back inside the fallen walls of Humus.

 

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