Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘fantasy’

So, it’s now possible to put a book up for pre-orders, just like the big publishers do–at least on certain sites. Smashwords has the option and through Smashwords, it can be delivered for pre-order to Barnes and Noble, Apple iBookstore, and Kobo. Amazon doesn’t have the option, at least for KDP authors, yet.

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Now, the idea of pre-orders is that you create a little buzz to get people to pre-order. Then all those sales hit on the day of the release and drive the book up in the rankings. Of course, this would work a lot better if Amazon was part of the mix. It’s the mysterious Amazon rankings that make the most difference in sales.

But then you go and try to generate that buzz, like by setting a low pre-order price. You still have to find a way to let readers know about it. Marketing of any kind is always a lot of work–especially if you’re trying to do it on a shoestring. And then . . . and then you find out all the places where you might just be able to list your book to create that buzz–well, they either want the ASIN (the id Amazon applies to all KDP books), which won’t be available until I publish it on Amazon, or, worse yet, they want the book to have some minimum number of reviews. Neither of those is going to work until after publication. But, if I go ahead and publish it on Amazon, without the pre-order buzz, then I won’t get the bump in sales.

Checkmate. Catch 22. I am still trying to find a way to untie this Gordian knot.

In the past, I’ve always buckled and just released early. I’m not going to do that this time. I’m going to keep trying to figure this out.

Read Full Post »

With the cover finalized, now I have to get a decent blurb. I’m all set to upload the formatted file to Smashwords (probably*). I’ve got the print file mostly formatted. (I might tweak one or two things, yet.) The kindle file will take less than an hour.

But, next to the cover, the blurb is probably the second most important sales tool. In the past, I haven’t paid sufficient attention to this. I mean to do better. So, right now, that’s what I’m working on.

Not done yet, but this is what I’ve got so far:

Vatar risked his life to try to save his friend–and failed. Now he has an implacable enemy in the vengeful shaman, who blames Vatar for the death of his only son. As the shaman’s attempts to crush Vatar grow more dangerous, Vatar finds some comfort in daydreams. He knows the girl he sometimes imagines is just that–a dream.

But, if she’s real, then things could get even worse for Vatar. This isn’t the accepted magic acquired during the initiation into one of the clans of Vatar’s semi-nomadic plains tribe. It’s more like the magic passed down in certain, closely-guarded bloodlines among the ruling class of the coastal cities is something else entirely. Unlike their own, Vatar’s people consider the city magic evil. If the shaman ever found out, it could be the weapon he needs to destroy Vatar.

The two kinds of magic have always been completely separate. Until now.

If you want to get a sneak peek at THE SHAMAN’S CURSE, there’s an excerpt at the end of “Becoming Lioness”, which is available free everywhere.

???????????????????????????????????????

*I’m currently weighing the option of using KDP Select (which means going exclusively with Amazon) for the first 90 days. I haven’t decided yet.

Read Full Post »

I’ll probably try to work up a more widespread Cover Reveal when it’s finalized, but you get to see it first.

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

This is very nearly the final cover for THE SHAMAN’S CURSE. (Just fussing with fonts at this point.)  What do you think?

I like the way the two colors suggest the two kinds of magic of the DUAL MAGICS series. I think I can work with variations of that background for the other books in the series, possibly with different foreground objects. (I’m considering a scroll for THE IGNORED PROPHECY, for example.)

I just need to finalize the cover and finish about 50 more pages of the final edits. Then I can start formatting and be ready to prepare for a (hopefully) July launch. This time, I’d like to round up a few reviews before it actually goes live.

 

Read Full Post »

So, this week and probably next, I’m concentrating on getting through what will hopefully be the final edits/revisions to THE SHAMAN’S CURSE. I want to get this formatted and ready to go for a July (or possibly August) launch. Having it ready early will allow me to do something in the right order for a change–actually send out advance review copies so the reviews can hit at around the time of the launch.

I’ve made good progress this week. I deleted four whole chapters. And I have my eye on two more that might very well get the axe, too. I always felt that the first third to maybe half of TSC was a bit too slow, a little too distanced from the central conflict. (I physically separate my MC from the antagonist as his first try/fail cycle, so this is at least somewhat inevitable, but that doesn’t mean things have to be drawn out.)

Some important things happen in that section. But there were a few other chapters that were establishing things for later. The thing is, despite the common advice “Show, don’t tell”, you don’t actually have to show everything. In fact, you shouldn’t. Some things can and should be told. In this case, it’s going to do more for the pacing of the story than the scenes/chapters did for set up. And I can still put in a paragraph or so to provide the necessary set up–just somewhere else.

But, the thing is, just a couple of months ago, I couldn’t see that. I needed the critiques that pointed out that some things didn’t seem to really move the story forward. And I needed the time to get enough distance from the story to see what those scenes were.

Sometimes, progress actually means deleting portions of your story, but it takes some distance from it to be able to see that. And those deleted scenes/chapters? Expect to see them during the launch.

Oh, and I think I’m finally making progress toward cover art for this series. There may be a cover reveal before too long.

Read Full Post »

I’m targeting early July (maybe 7/7/14) for the launch of THE SHAMAN’S CURSE.

For the stories I choose to epublish myself, for whatever reason, I do my own cover art. Most often I use images from Dreamstime, although there are other, similar sources out there. I just usually have better luck finding the kind of images I’m looking for there. And very often, I can find one perfect or nearly perfect image, like the ones I used for FIRE AND EARTH and THE BARD’S GIFT.

Fire And Earth Cover (Provisional)

TheBardsGiftCoverSmall

Or one that needs just a little additional tweak, like the one I used for BLOOD WILL TELL. (I had to add the dragon.)

Blood Will Tell Cover

But TSC is causing me no end of trouble. It’s not a lack of images, exactly. I have any number of them filed away in my lightbox on Dreamstime. But no one of them is quite exactly right for this story. Or, there’s one that’s pretty close to a scene from my story. If this was a stand-alone novel, I’d probably use that one. But it’s not. TSC is the first book in the DUAL MAGICS series (planned to be four books).

That’s part of the problem. I need to come up with something that will tie the covers of all four books together. Not the same image, necessarily. Though a single common element could work. Or a similar feel.

For the Chimeria series (BLOOD WILL TELL, BLOOD IS THICKER, and, eventually, BLOOD STAINS) I’m using dramatic, magical skies and the same dragon silhouettes.

I haven’t come up with any inspiration quite that simple for this series. Not that will work, anyway.

Of course, I’ve gone to amazon to look at covers of somewhat similar books (sword and sorcery, more or less–although TSC is more spear and sorcery). That’s given me some templates to try to work with. If I can just muster enough skill to make any of them work. So far, that’s also been part of the challenge.

One of the many challenges I’m wrestling with is coming up with some image or combination of images that conveys something about the story while at the same time giving sufficient clues that this is a fantasy story which will involve magic. Not, for example, a western or a historical romance. (One image, which is nearly perfect otherwise, just screams that the title should be something like “How to Tame Your Highlander”.)

I’ve got to come as close to perfection as reasonably possible. The cover is perhaps the most important part of the marketing. I’ll get there eventually.

Read Full Post »

Blogging a little bit late today because life got crazy yesterday–and that’s aside from the current heat wave, here. It’s been in the 90’s all week.

Right now, I’m about to wrap up the revisions on MAGIC AND POWER (or whatever title I finally decide on). Strengthening a couple of characters, mostly. There’s one section I still need to trim, but I’m probably going to have to seek some help with that. Someone else will be able to see what’s expendable than I am at this point.

It’ll soon be time to start working on the query and a dreaded synopsis for this one.

Keep your head down. Don’t draw attention. Don’t make waves. Be invisible as much as possible. Above all, don’t make yourself a target. Those are the rules seventeen-year-old Ailsa has lived by for as long as she can remember. She’s used to that. It just goes with being the daughter of the disgraced ex-king and living next to his more-than-slightly paranoid replacement.

With very few friends and no prospects of marriage, Ailsa focuses her energy on her chance to study at the Institute of Magical Arts. Her great hope is that she’ll prove to have a kind of magic that will enable her to save her homeland from the new king’s restrictive policies toward mages. But nothing is ever that simple for Ailsa. A completely unexpected proposal–from Crown Prince Savyon, no less–threatens to derail all her plans.

Political intrigue, powerful magic, and a handsome study partner with a maddening taste for placing them both at the center of attention force Ailsa to rethink her view of the world. Perhaps the answer isn’t to shrink until she fits in somebody’s pre-arranged slot after all. Maybe she can make her own place–and change the world for the better in the process.

The only question remaining is which of the young men who claim to love her is willing to help her in that battle.

GREEN MAGIC is a 96,000-word young adult fantasy romance and potentially the first of a series.

Thank you for your time.

Except, of course, it’s nearer to 97,000 words and I still have some more to add.

After that, I want to make a final pass through THE SHAMAN’S CURSE, preparing that one for this summer sometime. Then complete a first pass through the rewrite of the sequel, THE IGNORED PROPHECY. (The DUAL MAGICS series.)

And then I have plenty more things in the pipeline after that. The rewrite of DREAMER’S ROSE. First drafts of the sequel to MAGIC AND POWER and the third book in the DUAL MAGICS series (probably to be titled TROUBLED COUNSELS). And there’s still that weird Oz story hanging out on the edges, waiting for me to figure it out.

Yeah, I expect I can keep busy.

 

Read Full Post »

Mom and Me, Picnic

This is my first Mother’s Day without Mom. I miss her, not so much the way she was at the end, when, frankly, she didn’t really know who I was anyway. (Alzheimer’s disease is a far worse villain than anything I can come up with.) I miss her the way we were back in this photo, which is just an ordinary picnic. After Dad retired, they took up the habit of going on picnics once a week, usually on Tuesdays. If the weather didn’t cooperate, they’d still go for a drive and stop to eat somewhere. It didn’t take long before they knew all the best places–indoors or out–within a three-hour drive in any direction. (Well, not west. You can’t drive three hours to the west from here without a boat. ) Whenever I felt I needed a break, I could just throw my name in and join them for a day.

I’m planning to keep myself busy. There’s a lot that needs doing around here and I’m about two-thirds through revisions to MAGIC AND POWER.

Mothers Day Book Bash Banner

Don’t forget the Mother’s Day Book Bash. Nine great books for bargain prices.

And, just to tie the two parts of this post together, Mom was part of the inspiration for Valeriah in the Chimeria series. Not Vallie’s aggressiveness or her fighting prowess, that wasn’t Mom at all. Though, she wasn’t afraid to make her opinion known. No, the part of Valeriah that comes from Mom was the petite ball of fire aspect. Mom was barely five feet tall on a good day, but she sure was a firecracker.

Read Full Post »

Here’s a character interview with Valeriah:

Valeriah strides into the room, eyes automatically flicking over everyone present and all possible entrances and exits. She’s petite with bright red hair and a ruddy complexion. Her presence radiates energy that makes her seem bigger than she really is.

Inspection complete, she huffs impatiently. “All right, I suppose we should get this over with.” She takes a moment to organize her thoughts.

“To begin with, all of the magical races of Chimeria can take human form. It’s our lingua franca, the way we can all talk to each other. Of course, once we take human form, there’s more we can do than just talk. Occasionally, interesting hybrids of the races are produced.

“You need to know this because I’m a hybrid. My mother was a werewolf. Now werewolves aren’t what you think over here. Your movies make me laugh. A werewolf isn’t forced to change by the moon. They take wolf form when they choose. Of course, as a hybrid, I’ve never been able to change at all. But I’m still driven by the moon. It’s not a ravening madness, though. It’s more like a manic energy and, of course, a craving for raw meat. Every werewolf has to find a way to deal with the energy the moon brings out in us, the wild blood. Now, I’m not denying that some werewolves get violent at the full moon, especially young males. But most find other ways to cope. Myself, I run. A tired werewolf is a good werewolf, even at the full moon.

“But I’m more than just half werewolf. My father was a hybrid, too. His father was the wizard Azander and his mother was a unicorn, Elsibel. Being a hybrid is never convenient, and it’s downright awkward when the parts of your nature are as opposite as werewolves and unicorns. For example, at the new moon, when my unicorn nature is strongest, I’m a vegetarian. But at the full moon, I prefer very rare red meat.

“Other than the compromises I have to make to balance my nature, I know very little about werewolves or unicorns, so don’t ask me. Grandmother Elsibel was disowned by the unicorns when she married my grandfather. And mother never had a chance to introduce me to the werewolves. Both my parents and my two brothers were murdered when I was five. I was only spared because my father fell on me and the killers didn’t find me. They seemed to be in a hurry and didn’t look too hard. I know they used a portal, because I saw them step out of thin air. But the portal had been closed by the time Grandfather found me.

“That portal is the only clue I have to find those who murdered my family. My werewolf blood won’t let me forget. I have to avenge them. But, after twenty years, the trail has gone cold. Almost impossible even for a werewolf to follow.

“Grandfather refused to tell me what he knew about the portals, so I left to find out for myself as soon as I came of age. I found work as a member of the Portal Watch. We protect Chimeria by preventing people from your ordinary, non-magical world from blundering in and finding out about us. Sometimes, we also act as bodyguards for the members of the Council of Magical Races when they cross over to your world. I get that duty a lot because of the strength, agility, and instincts I inherited from my werewolf mother.

“It’s not easy being a female in the Watch. There are precious few of us. It took a couple of years for me to convince the male members of the Watch that I wasn’t available for the taking. Every now and again, I still have to show a new recruit how I got my reputation. I can take any one of them in a fair fight–and have–often enough to make them respect me. I stay in the Watch because it’s the only way I know to find out more about the portals, and track down whoever killed my family.”

One brave interviewer puts up a hand. “What do you remember about those that killed your family?”

Valeriah’s eyes take on a distracted look as she stares at the far wall. “I remember that they used a portal. The air shimmered in front of Mama and then men stepped out of that shimmer. I’ve had enough experience with portals now to know that’s what that shimmer was. I remember the blood spurting around the sword point coming out of Daddy’s back. There were no screams. It was too quick for that.

“For the rest, it’s hard to know what’s real anymore, after twenty years. I think some of my nightmares have gotten twisted up in it. I think they were all wearing green shirts. I don’t think that came out of the nightmares.

“The portal is my only real clue, though. I have to find out who could make a portal like that and then close it. It’s the only way I have to find the murderers, now.”

“Is it only your werewolf half that feels the need for revenge?” the interviewer follows up. “Does it conflict with other areas of your nature?”

Valeriah shakes her head. “My werewolf blood won’t let me forget about the murders. Especially at the full moon. The blood rage can be overwhelming, then.

“My unicorn side wouldn’t approve, I’m sure, but the werewolf hasn’t given that part of me a vote. My non-werewolf cousin certainly doesn’t approve. But then Cristel is a pacifist. And my grandfather thinks that seeking revenge will get me into trouble. They don’t understand.

“If I can just get the scent, I’m sure I can hunt them to ground.”

“What about scent? Do you remember the murderer’s scents?” another interviewer asks.

Valeriah’s lip twists up in a snarl. “I only remember the smell of my father’s blood and the beginnings of decay. That covers everything else.”

“You said your grandfather wouldn’t tell you about the portals. Does that make you angry with him?”

Valeriah blows out her breath. “Not really angry. He spent so much effort to protect me after the murders. He just never could let go of the need to keep me safe. He thinks seeking revenge will get me into trouble and I’ll get killed, too. I know he’s scared for me.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated that he won’t let me use his library. If he won’t help me, at least he could let me do what I have to do on my own. That argument is the main reason I left and haven’t been back to see him or my cousin in eight years.”

Another interviewer raises a hand. “You haven’t seen your family in eight years. Are you alone, or is there anyone else you turn to?”

Valeriah shrugs. “Well, I am a member of the Portal Watch. Some of them are companions of a sort. Of course, there are quite a few I had to beat up when I first joined, so they knew not to try to take advantage of me. Some of them hold a grudge. There isn’t anybody I’d really call a friend.

She sighs. “I’m a lone wolf.”

The interviewer follows up. “Would you seek companionship? What if you found someone who let you be you, but also gave you strength and at times something to lean on?”

Valeriah turns to look out the window. Her voice drops so that the interviewers have to lean forward to hear her. “I’ve never had any luck with that. Gave up trying years ago. I don’t need to lean on anybody, though I don’t mind working with a partner as part of my job. That’s just what it is, though. Nothing else.”

Another interviewer raises a hand, but Valeriah strides toward the door. “We’re done here. I have murderers to track.”

This was originally done for a challenge in which writers contributed different characters and then wrote a short story in which two of them met. You can read my story about Valeriah and a space alien (who looks like a poodle) here.

Read Full Post »

Mothers Day Book Bash BannerAnd, since my contribution to this party is actually a two-book set, here’s an excerpt from the second book, BLOOD IS THICKER.

Blood Is Thicker Cover

To set this one up: Valeriah has teamed up with some dragons. (Pretty closely with one dragon in particular.) They’re out of Chimeria, in our world (disguised as humans), where the dragons maintain a palatial estate. Of course, they really don’t want to reveal their true identities to anyone over here. The dragons, all in human form, in this scene are: Rolf, his older brother Drake, and their baby sister, Kamara.

While Kamara is about Valeriah’s age, as the heiress of the Matriarch of the gold dragons, she’s been coddled and sheltered all her life. Her maturity level is closer to a fourteen-year-old than a twenty-something. And she’s made up her mind to go out to a party with a young man neither of her over-protective brothers, nor Valeriah, approve of.

Oh, and it appears the young man knows more about Kamara’s origins than he really should.

Kamara excused herself from the supper table as early as she could and rushed to get herself ready for Daniel. She wanted to be beautiful tonight. It would be nice if Valeriah could do her hair, the way she had for the Christmas party. Never mind. Kamara’d just have to do it herself. It wouldn’t be as elaborate, is all. She’d go for something simpler, like the way Valeriah had worn her hair that night. Rolf had seemed to like that. At least, he’d played with it a lot. The idea of Daniel playing with her hair like that made Kamara smile. Last of all, she drew the chain of her topaz pendant over her head, admiring the way it winked in the light, sending golden reflections across the room.

At two minutes to eight, she slipped down the back stairs. The others were in the study, so she wanted to avoid that side of the house and the entry hall, where her gold high-heeled shoes would echo on the marble tiles. Past the gym and out the French doors to the patio. She breathed a sigh of relief at escaping the house. This time, she was going to make it.

Around the kitchen side of the house to the front was easy. She walked on the grass, not the concrete driveway, despite the unpleasant way her heels sank into the damp soil. That was better than making too much noise and attracting attention. She had to step onto the concrete to open the smaller pedestrian gate, set into the larger one. Hopefully, she was far enough from the house now not to be heard.

As soon as she’d palmed the lock, the gate pushed open from the other side and Daniel stepped through. She smiled brightly at him. Two other men she didn’t recognize came through behind him. Well, he’d said they were going to a party with some of his friends.

Daniel didn’t introduce his friends, but they moved to either side of her.

“Hello, Kamara.” Daniel’s voice was harsh, nothing like the sweet, charming tones she was used to. And his smile was almost predatory. For the first time, Kamara started to wonder if she should have listened to Valeriah after all.

“Um, hi. Who’re you’re friends?” she asked.

Daniel flicked a hand to his left at a big man–bigger than Father–with reddish hair and a long, horsey face. “Ben.” Then he gestured to his right as a slight fellow with golden blond, feathery hair like Daniel’s, but without the interesting blue highlights. “Patrick.” He swept his hand toward her in a mocking imitation of a bow. “I give you Kamara of Chimeria.”

Kamara’s heart dropped to her stomach. How did he know who she was? She backed up a step. Ben closed in behind her, cutting off her retreat. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Daniel’s hand stroked her cheek, but this time she didn’t get any of those pleasant tingles. Instead, a shiver of fear coursed through her, mixed with overwhelming hurt.

Daniel continued to smile. “Don’t worry. No one’s going to hurt you. We’re just going to play a little joke on your brothers.”

“I don’t think they’ll have much of a sense of humor on that subject,” Kamara said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Oh, they’ll play along. They’ll have to if they want to get you back. And they’ll give us what should always have been our birthright, too–access to the portals.”

“Let’s just go to the party, like we planned.” Kamara’s voice sounded pleading in her own ears.

Kamara dodged to the side, trying to get around Ben and make a run for the house. Patrick grabbed her arm to stop her. She spun in a move Valeriah had taught her, stomping on his foot and freeing herself. But then Ben grabbed her from behind so that her arms were pinned to her sides and lifted her feet off the ground. Valeriah hadn’t covered what to do in a case like this. Kamara struggled in vain.

Daniel’s smiled widened, but not pleasantly. “There isn’t any party, you little fool. There never was. That was just a way to get you away from your brothers.” His hand traced down her neck to the chain and followed the chain down to her topaz. His fist closed around it. “We’ll start with this. I don’t know what it does, but we can’t have you using magic against us.” He yanked on the chain, but it was stronger than he expected, enhanced with magic.

Her shivering fear and hurt turned in a flash to purely draconic outrage. No one, ever, laid a hand on a dragon’s jewels. Not if they wanted to live. The roar that issued from Kamara’s throat was not a sound any human could produce.

“What the hell!” Patrick said, putting his hands over his ears. “I thought you said they were wizards.”

Even Daniel looked stunned, though Ben’s arms were just as firm as ever. Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t human. What are you?”

~

Valeriah dropped the bowl of popcorn she’d been about to take into the study. That roar could only have come from a dragon. It wasn’t Rolf or Drake. It sounded female. Kamara!

And the roar had come, not from upstairs where they all thought Kamara was sulking, but from outside. She dashed through the kitchen door and paused. Which way? The sound of a boot scuffing on concrete decided her. The patio and all the paths in the garden were stone. The only concrete was in the driveway out front. The difference in sound was subtle, but perceptible to her sensitive ears. She raced to the front of the house.

Her werewolf’s night vision showed her the scene long before even her speed could close the distance. Three to one. For her, that wasn’t such bad odds–if only Kamara weren’t at risk.

Well, getting Kamara out of harm’s way was the first priority. She launched herself into the biggest man, the one who was holding Kamara, hitting him with both feet in the small of his back. The man dropped Kamara and fell to his knees, coughing. Valeriah had bounced back to her feet before either of the other two could react. Daniel next. He was almost certainly the ringleader, here.

“It’s the new wife,” Daniel said. “Grab her, too. We’ll get anything we want for the both of them.”

“You’ll get much more than you bargained for,” Valeriah answered. “I promise you that much.”

“Spoiled little rich girls don’t scare me.”

Valeriah actually smiled. “Your mistake.” Her kick took Daniel in the chin, dropping him like a stone. She ignored him as she turned for the third man.

The skinny one had grabbed Kamara’s arm, pulling her in front of him and was in the act of reaching into his jacket for something. Most likely a gun. Possibly a knife. Either was bad news. Valeriah could hear Rolf and Drake pounding up the driveway towards them, but they’d be too late to help with this. She needed to take this guy out before he could put a gun in play.

Kamara, bless her, drove her elbow into the smaller man’s gut. He didn’t release her, but Kamara’s continuing struggles did pull him part way around. It was all the opportunity Valeriah needed. She was behind him, with her arm across his throat, choking him, before he could straighten from Kamara’s blow.

“Drop it,” Valeriah hissed, “or you’ll end up like Daniel.” She heard the clatter of metal on the concrete followed by a deafening bang. Damned cheap gun had gone off. Valeriah automatically checked Kamara to be sure she hadn’t been hit by the stray bullet or any shrapnel it might have caused striking the concrete driveway.

By then, Rolf and Drake ran up. Drake quickly picked up the discarded gun and took charge of the two men already down. Rolf pulled first Valeriah and then Kamara into his arms. After a quick, reassuring hug, Valeriah squirmed free to check on Daniel. She didn’t think she’d kicked him hard enough to break his neck, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure. No. There was a steady pulse, but he was certainly out cold.

She straightened at the sound of sirens coming up the hill. Damn. That was precisely what they didn’t need. She pointed to the biggest of the three. “You. Pick up Daniel and hide in those trees.” She pointed back up to a curve in the driveway where a thick stand of Italian cypress screened the house from the gate.

The big one just stared at her. “Go. Unless you really want to be arrested for attempted kidnapping. We don’t need to be dealing with the police right now. We’ll just tell them it was a mistake. We heard it, too, but think it must have been some kids setting off a firecracker or something. Then we’ll deal with you later.”

“Right,” Drake said, pocketing the gun.

The skinny one jumped up and pushed his companion into action. By the time the patrol cars arrived at the gate, they were hidden from ordinary eyes. Valeriah could still see them. Probably Rolf and Drake could, too. But ordinary human police wouldn’t.

Read Full Post »

Mothers Day Book Bash BannerAs part of the Mothers Day Book Bash, I’m sharing an excerpt from BLOOD WILL TELL.

Blood Will Tell CoverTo set this up: Valeriah has returned home to Chimeria (the place where all our legendary creatures come from) for her dying grandfather. The old man has died and now Valeriah and her cousin Cristel are burying him.This is the first time in twenty years she’s been into the crypt where her own murdered family is buried.

Valeriah is half-werewolf on her mother’s side.

When Valeriah carried her Grandfather’s shrunken body through the crypt door, she saw the empty bier straight ahead of her at the back of the tomb. She placed him on the cold, white stone and arranged his body so that he appeared to be asleep, hands on his chest. She patted the cold hands once before she looked around her.

Grandmother Elsibel’s bier was right next to Grandfather’s. Elsibel, who had died before Valeriah was even born, appeared to be in a natural sleep. There was probably some spell on the crypt to prevent decay. That was a strangely comforting thought. Looking at Elsibel, Valeriah realized how much Cristel looked their grandmother.

Cristel was on the right side of the crypt, staring down at one of the bodies. From where she stood, Valeriah couldn’t see the body Cristel was looking at clearly, but she assumed it must be one of her parents. She turned away, to give Cristel a moment of privacy. Her eyes fell on the four bodies on the left side of the crypt. She crossed to them in three quick strides.

None of them looked like they were asleep. The death wounds were too obvious and so were the signs of feeding by forest scavengers before their bodies had been found.

Her father. Daddy. Tall and blond, still in his prime. The hole in his chest where the sword had passed through–all the way through. She remembered seeing the point come out of his back, the blood spurting around it. Mama. Her throat slashed so deeply that the bone of her spine showed through. Conall. Still ten years old. Ten years old forever. Ruddy like their mother, but already lengthening to be as tall as Daddy some day. That would never happen now. Nothing could hide the slash that had nearly cut him in two. Martin. Forever eight years old. The only one with Father’s coloring. And one side of his skull sickeningly caved in by a blow from something heavy. A club? Valeriah didn’t know. She hadn’t seen Martin fall.

They shouldn’t be in this crypt. They should all of them be alive and still with her. Her brothers grown tall and strong like Daddy. Maybe others, younger than her. That’s the way it should have been. She should not be alone.

Pain wrenched through Valeriah as if it had happened yesterday, not twenty years ago. All of them cut down in one moment. Her vision darkened. She clamped her mouth shut against the long, mournful howl that wanted to escape. Even now, at the new moon, when her wild blood should be quiet, she felt the blood rage boiling up in her. And Grandfather wanted her not to seek revenge? If the Goddess herself were responsible, Valeriah would avenge them.

The scuff of a shoe on stone and a choked-off sob brought her back to the moment. Valeriah raised her head, wiping away tears she hadn’t even realized she was crying. She crossed over to Cristel and stopped, one stride away, looking at what had to be Cristel’s parents. The woman was almost like a waxen image of Cristel–except for the gash across her neck. She’d been killed exactly like Valeriah’s mother. The man, presumably Cristel’s father, looked like he had been hacked with an axe.

“Yours, too?” Valeriah asked softly.

“What?”

“Your parents were murdered, too. I didn’t remember that. But, then, I had my own nightmares back then. I wasn’t very interested in other people’s pain.”

“I didn’t remember, either. I’m not sure I ever knew. I was so young. I only remember Grandfather crying and saying that he would take care of me, now. I’m not sure he ever told me how they died. Or maybe he did and I just didn’t understand.”

“You weren’t there? When it happened?”

Cristel shook her head. Then she lifted her head to look at Valeriah. “Were you?”

“Oh, yes. I was the baby, only five and small for my age. I was holding Daddy’s hand when we were attacked. Mama and Conall fell while I watched. Daddy pushed me behind him. I saw the sword point come through his back and disappear again as he collapsed. He fell on me and the men who killed them didn’t find me.” She shuddered at the memory. She would say no more about that. Not here. Not now.

Valeriah took hold of Cristel’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »