Then she shut the door and locked it and left him there.
After being diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, Alex leaves on a hiking trip to deal with her personal demons and say good-bye to her parents. That’s when it happens: the pulse. Electronic devices no longer work and folks are either dead or have a strange craving for flesh. Set on survival, Alex does what she must to avoid the Changed and save her improvised family.
This book is broken into two parts, and they couldn’t be more different. The first part is a fast-paced, well-written account of how Alex, Ellie, and Tom meet, encounter the Changed, and plan to survive. The characters are well done, engaging the reader to cheer for their survival. It is an easy – if mature in some parts – read.
The second half of the book is a total departure from the first half. Not only is Alex alone again, but there are no more Changed until the very last chapter – no more action. The reader is left wondering what happened to the other characters (which I presume will be dealt with in the sequel) and tossed into a town, meeting new characters and departing from the Alex from the first part – even she questions where the old her has gone. This part is frustrating, though no less intriguing if only to find out where it is going.
Ashes takes teen dystopia to a gruesome level, though leaving the reader questioning the swift change in the middle of the book. Regardless, it is a fast read, with a lot of action in the first part and hopefully a lot of answers in the sequel.
I’m happy to reveal to you the cover of Path of Needles! Make sure you put this one on your TBR list — I worked on it and can say, it’s a unique twist on fairy tales.
Title: Path of Needles
Author: Hannah Kollef
Launch Date: October 12th, 2012
Excerpt:
The Midnight Ball
The clock was about to strike midnight as I stood beside a potted bamboo plant, nursing a stolen glass of wine and praying no one would see me. My red dress chafed. My high-heels were killing me. The noise level in the gallery was almost deafening. And if I had to listen to one more person talk about the weather, I was going to scream.
And speak of the devil…
“Kat!”
Phil, my father’s literary agent, had spotted me. I tried to pretend I hadn’t heard him but it was too late. He was already motioning for me to join him. I smothered my groan, both at the thought of the conversation and the pain in my feet, and walked over to where he stood with a few other people.
“Hey, Kat,” he said eagerly. “We were just discussing all the weird weather we’ve been having. Did you feel the earthquake last week? An earthquake in New York City. Still can’t believe it.”
A blond woman cut in before I could answer. “I heard it was solar flares. That’s what caused the tsunami in Japan, you know. Terrible stuff. All those deaths.”
“Nonsense,” said a young man. I’d forgotten his name, but I was pretty sure he worked for NPR. His face was flushed and he slurred his speech a bit. “It’s Global Warming. Those goddamned Republicans have been ignoring us for decades and now they’re getting their proof. Tsunamis in Japan, earthquakes in New York City, tornadoes in Alaska. Alaska! And they gave us crap for the electric car!”
The young man suddenly turned to me, an expectant look on his face.
“Well?” he blustered. “Don’t you agree?”
“Uh…”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Phil cut in. “Her father is Jonathan Finnegan. Of course she agrees. All this nonsense about the Mayans, on the other hand…”
“What?!”
Thus began a heated debate in which I had little interest. Fortunately I spotted my uncle, Hank, standing beside the buffet table with a plate of fruit.
“I think I see my uncle,” I muttered and made my escape. I weaved my way through the crowd of polished literati, avoiding anyone who might recognize me as my father’s daughter. Waiters in black suits and glittering masks mingled with the crowd. They carried trays of drinks and the small finger foods partygoers like to admire but not eat. One stopped in my path. He was slighter than most men and had on a silver mask that extended into the air like wings beside his face.
There was something almost familiar about him. It might have been his thin lips, or the sharp, aristocratic slope of his nose. He didn’t speak, just held up a tray filled with a dozen glasses of red wine.
“I’m good, thanks,” I spluttered, holding up my half-full glass.
The waiter smiled and inclined his head, leaving before I could figure out who he looked like. The whole interaction had taken ten seconds, but it was disorienting. I wrote it off to the wine and hurried over to Hank.
He looked distinguished, as always, with his grey hair and closely cropped beard. The vintage Pink Floyd tee shirt he wore under his suit gave him an edge of cool that fit well with his New York art gallery. Hank was not his original name. He’d changed it before we were born, when he came to America and found people unable to pronounce his Russian name. He also wasn’t my uncle by blood. But he and my father had been friends for longer than I’d been alive, and they might as well have been brothers. He’d helped to raise me, and in some ways, was closer to Roger and I than our father.
May I present to you, the Bewitched cover! This is the next novella in the Heven and Hell line, this time about Kimber. After you’re done gazing at the cover, scroll down for an excerpt and the trailer!
Title: Bewitched (Heven and Hell #2.5)
Genre: YA paranormal
Publisher: Cambria Hebert
Release date: October 5, 2012
Format: Ebook only (for now)
Bewitched Blurb:
For years, I accepted that Heven was more popular than me. I never liked it but I lived with it. I walked in her shadow, I stood by her when no one else would. When I finally thought her spotlight was mine things began to change. She began to change. Now she hardly ever calls me back, she spends all her time with her hot new boyfriend and everyone at school thinks she’s back on top. She had it all. But apparently she wants more. She wants Cole – my boyfriend. What’s worse is that it looks like she got him. I’ve had enough and she’s going to be sorry. Why?Because I am bewitched.
Excerpt:
Working out was for jocks. Homework was for nerds and I wasn’t a jock or a nerd. Yet, here I was, sweating through my favorite Victoria Secret yoga pants and tank with a headache the size of Macy’s. Learning about my powers was hard work. I thought it would come naturally. My brain was hurting from concentrating and my muscles were actually sore from effort. I thought longingly of the potion in the green bottle that Hecate had given me—a little sip would make it that much easier to use my powers, but she took it away. Apparently, I had all the power she wanted me to have. It kind of pissed me off.In fact, I was feeling pretty disgruntled all around.
I was hot, I was sweaty, my head hurt and my hair was frizzy. Not to mention I had been wearing sneakers far too long. Thank goodness Hecate was gone. I actually had been glad not to be alone after the “bone incident,” but now I was ready for some alone time. I felt stronger.
Feeling strong plus feeling disgruntled equaled somebody was gonna get hurt.
I was standing in my yard near the lake and I glanced up at the moon before heading inside. It was low and swollen tonight—a haunting moon. It sent a shiver up my spine. I thought briefly about going to Heven’s and treating her to a little of what she deserved. I even looked toward the driveway as I walked, but I wasn’t going anywhere looking like this.
I went into the house and began climbing the stairs. Halfway up, I heard a noise in the kitchen and I paused. My parents were still out of town. It wasn’t the maid’s day to be here… unless she came early. Another thud in the kitchen had me spinning on the stairs to see what it was.
“Mary?” I called out. “Is that you?” Maybe she switched her schedule around and I didn’t know about it. Maybe I could get her to make me a latté.
No one answered, and the noises in the kitchen fell silent. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened, wondering if I had heard anything at all. “Hello?” I called again, this time more unsure. This time a fine chill raced up my back.
Suddenly being alone in this big house was scary.
Clink, clink, clink.
Okay, I wasn’t hearing things. Someone was there.
I stepped off the stairs and walked through the foyer in the direction of the kitchen. I heard the cat hiss and I paused again. Clover was too lazy to hiss at a mouse. Something in my stomach turned cold and hard.
I looked over my shoulder at the massive front doors to the alarm keypad and the distress button.
But it was too late for pressing buttons.
Clover burst around the corner with a hideous screech and barreled into me, hitting me in the knees and causing me to stumble. The cat didn’t even stop. I could hear his claws scraping frantically across the tiles. “What the…” I began as I straightened, but then something lurched around the corner after the cat.
It was hideous.
It stood about a foot taller than me with wide shoulders that were uneven looking—one was lower than the other—and a wild mane of bushy orange hair that seemed to create a cloud around its pasty, white face. Its lips were black and it had a nasty row of teeth that had seen a lot of decay. It had large purple circles around its eyes, which seemed to have no color at all.
It looked like a psychotic clown.
I screamed and took a step backward, and the thing grinned. I went running but it lunged and caught me around the wrist, pulling me back. I struggled, kicking out, but it was no use, his grip was too strong.
Without any warning it reached up and snatched my silver pendant right off my neck. “Hey!” I screamed as it shoved me away. I fell onto my butt and stared up at the glittering silver heart as it dangled from the nasty clown’s hands.
Cole had given that to me. It was the last gift he had given me before we broke up.
Anger surged into my chest, making me hot. “Give that back.”
Freaky Clown gave me another frightening grin and ran back into the kitchen, disappearing from sight. I ran after it, running into a solid wall of… offensiveness.
You already know my name and, yes, I am that Lucifer. Fall from Heaven, Garden of Eden, ruler of Hell, Satan, the Devil, the Adversary, blah blah blah. I am the one you condemned without, what do you call it? A fair trial. Forget what you think you know: I want to tell my side of the story. The Road to Hell is all about how a pathetic group of short-sighted angels kicked me out of Heaven.
Humans are naturally curious and I suspect you’re asking ‘why now?’ Well, He has a book and it’s been pretty successful, so I figured what the hell? Found a ghostwriter and gave it a go. After all, the story is fantastic! It has everything you clods of dirt crave: a love story, a little sex, intrigue. Murder. War. Lots of blood. And a cast of characters you already know and love—Michael, Gabriel, Raphael—along with a host of others. Even has a special guest appearance by the Father and that damned boy.
So, let’s get down to business or brass tacks or whatever colloquialism works for you. I have plenty to say and plenty of time: The Road to Hell is just the first in a series of novels about my experience with Him, with my brothers and sisters, with you. If you’re interested in featuring me, reach out to the pile of dust below; if not, well, I’ll see you soon.
EXCERPT
Lucifer heard me: as soon as my feet touched the glass surface of his platform, he laughed aloud and doused all the light in Heaven.
“I know why you’re here, Raphael,” Lucifer said in the darkness. “You’re afraid.”
I was afraid but I wasn’t willing to admit it. Instead I said, “Why should I be afraid? The Father is with me.”
“You sure about that?” And I could see Lucifer’s teeth glinting in the light wafting from my body. He was smiling. “You think he’ll still back you up now that you’re failing him?”
His face was the color of fire, deep and red, and a haze made him seem like a mirage. Even in the darkness, in the heat of his rage, Lucifer was still beautiful. His thin face, the angular cheekbones, his wide, open eyes, his halo of shimmering hair—all presented a portrait of absolute perfection. Even in this dark hour, I envied the crude formation of my own round face, my pudgy nose, the softness of my jawline.
I tried to sound as sure of myself, as certain as he was but my voice cracked, “I’m not failing—”
He pounced on me, laid long, thin fingers on my shoulders, pushed that gleaming grin into my face. “Sure you are! Why else would you be here, Peace Keeper? Angels are dead, Raphael. It’s slipping through your fingers. Sounds like failure to me.”
“This is your doing!” I pressed him back.
“Raphael, you insult me; finger pointing seems so…beneath you. Besides, I’m bound, remember?” He fondled the chains streaming from his wrists and ankles, smiled at me again. “You chained me up so I couldn’t cause any problems for the others. Weren’t those your words?”
He was right. And I hated him for it. “Yes,” was all I said.
“So you failed them or you failed him. Either way, you’re a failure, kiddo.”
“I want to talk about what we do next.”
He was walking around me now. I could hear the chains scraping the surface of the glass.
“And I want to talk about your fears,” he said and his voice sounded like velvet in my ears.
“This doesn’t help us, Lucifer. It doesn’t help us end this nonsense. ”
“Maybe I don’t want to end it. Maybe this is exactly what we need.” He got louder, bolder. Closer. “Does that scare you, Raphael, that you won’t be able to keep it together? Is that why you tremble in the darkness? Because when it’s just you and the Father and all the light and noise is gone, you know you’re going to have to tell him you failed?”
He had me. I understood in that moment how Lucifer could enflame the deepest of emotions. His words touched the very root of me; spoke directly to the futility flexing in my palms. It was out of my hands—I knew that much. Lucifer knew it too. By virtue of the fact that I was there, standing before him while he taunted me, it was out of my hands.
I tried to turn it back on him, “What about your fears? What about what you’re afraid of?”
“I’m scared,” he whispered, “that the Father won’t want me back once I’m finished.” The smile was gone.
ABOUT ME
Christopher C. Starr is the author of The Road to Hell: The Book of Lucifer, the first novel in the Heaven Falls series. These stories examine the God’s relationship with Heaven and Earth, told through the eyes of the angels. The next book in the series, Come Hell or Highwater, is scheduled for late 2012/early 2013.
Chris makes it a point to look at the dark side of his characters, both heroes and villains, and his work explores the “grey”—that place where good and evil come together in all of us.
When he’s not being chased out of churches, Chris enjoys comic books and movies, staying away from cemeteries, and poorly participating in P90X. He lives in Seattle with his wife, two kids (The Boy and the Honey Badger), and his huskies, Rocky the Wonder Dog and his colorful sidekick, Leylah Redd. You can check out his blog at christophercstarr.net.
I’m excited to bring to you today the Forged by Greed cover reveal! But before you get to see it, check out the blurb on this book and a brief excerpt! Then, go add it to your TBR list!
Log line:
Their choice had been taken away long before they were born.
Synopsis:
Two Seattle 16-year-old Shape Shifters, Jatred and Jasmira, are torn between following their hearts and protecting the order of the world.
The ancient Shape Shifter Races—the Winter wolves and the Summer leopards—exist on Earth, living among humans and perfectly fitting into modern life. Their secret societies are organized, each united by their own laws and traditions.
Two Goddesses, Crystal and Amber command their respective Races. One is on a quest to tilt the scale of power to her side. The other will never let it happen, even if it means sacrificing Jatred and Jasmira’s love.
The Amulet commissioned to bring stability into the world remains hidden and concealed with the help of advanced technology. Jatred is the guardian of the Amulet and key to the Goddesses’ conflict.
The forces of nature are disrupted. Earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions rake the world. The Goddesses go to war and summon all their Shifters to join in the conflict. Jatred and Jasmira fight not only for their star-crossed love but to protect the future of both Races and humankind.
Bio:
Angela Orlowski-Peart was born and raised in Poland. She describes herself as European born, American by choice. She was just seven-years-old when she decided to learn English to translate her favorite Polish fairytales.
Angela is a Young Adult and Adult fiction writer. She completed her first YA paranormal romance novel, Forged by Greed, which is scheduled for publication on September 20, 2012. This is the first book in The Forged Series. Angela writes in multiple genres, including paranormal, fantasy, urban fiction, sci-fi, and short stories. She is a member of Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, Western Washington Chapter (http://www.scbwi.org), and several authors’ and readers’ networking groups on Linkedin and Goodreads.
Angela loves reading good books almost as much as writing them. She can’t decide which is her favorite season—summer or fall. She speaks with Polish accent, but loves listening to the Southern drawl.
She is passionate about watercolor painting, fashion—especially stilettos, rock climbing, environment, and organic food and gardening. She lives in the Seattle area with her husband, two children, and a very independent and chronically curious cat.
The wolf stood under the trees, several yards from the fence. His eyes were fixed on the stone statues. He growled and took a few slow steps back. Then he sprang forward and ran full speed toward the gate. His upper lip drew back, showing sharp, long canines. He jumped over the spikes of the fence, his belly inches away from the pointed iron finials. The wolf landed on the other side and left large paw prints on the freshly mowed grass. He lost his balance but regained it momentarily.
He heard her footsteps even before he heard her voice.
“Jatred!” From the house Jasmira ran toward him. Her long curly hair billowed behind her. “J, you made it. You made it.”
The wolf whimpered and trotted forward to meet her. Without slowing down, she threw herself onto him. Her hands grabbed his thick fur. His body was massive, and Jasmira looked like a child hugging an uncommonly large dog. The air around them pulsed and shivered. Jatred shifted into his human form and fell onto his back. Jasmira sprawled on top of him. Holding his face in her hands, she kissed him. His face broke into a broad smile.
Release Info:
Forged by Greed will be released on September 20, 2012. The second book in the series (untitled) is scheduled for publication in summer 2013.
Visit Angela on her website (www.angelapeart.com) and on her Author Goodreads page (http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6469948.Angela_Orlowski_Peart) to read more excerpts from Forged by Greed and to learn about upcoming giveaways and other events. Add Forged by Greed to your To-Be-Read list on Goodreads. Check back on September 20th for the buy links and the book blog tours information.
The first twenty readers who request a Kindle ebook today will receive a free copy of The Crooked Swan by Julie Helm. Please leave the email and specify the device where you would like your gift sent in the comments. Thank you.
About the book: What was Kayla thinking when she gave Narissa the solo in the Christmas recital? Caught in a world she thought she’d never be a part of, Kayla learns that what was given in a moment of frustration and pity cannot be taken back so easily… especially with Narissa. As Kayla recognizes within herself a great need to help Narissa dance, she discovers patience and forgiveness, and the beauty found within the soul of a little girl who is more angel than child… she discovers the healing power of love…and the joy found in truly caring for others.
Julie Helm speaks out about what inspired The Crooked Swan:
When I was a young girl I loved to dance. I’d lie in my bed at nights and imagine that I was the lead dancer in a world famous ballet company. My dreaming took me everywhere: On pointe shoes I danced into the waiting arms of a dreamy dance partner. He would lift me so high the stage lights forced me to close my eyes. It all felt so real. Leaping and whirling, moving gracefully on my toes, I danced until sleep claimed me and I could no longer think.
So I begged my mother for dance lessons. And though I danced my heart out in my classes, becoming a world-class dancer would never be part of my future. As I stretched and tried bending my young body into the limitless contortions my dance teacher tried teaching me, I realized that all I needed was to enjoy myself. Some bodies aren’t designed to be as limber as others.
Dancing became a lot of fun. I met other dancers, from time to time, who were more coordinated and obviously more talented than me. Sometimes it was hard to watch them because I wanted to dance perfectly, too. But I kept dancing…because I knew that if my abilities were ever judged by what was in my heart…I would be the prima ballerina, the most graceful beautiful dancer of them all.
Years passed, and dancing was put aside to raise my family. One night while I was lying in my bed trying to find sleep…I thought again of a young imperfect girl who wanted to dance as gracefully as other dancers…and The Crooked Swan was born. Though the main character’s story is not my own, there are many situations in the book that related to me as a young dancer.
A beautiful dance, one that is orchestrated to perfection, is never just about what the body is capable of doing, even with God given abilities and talent. It’s the combination of both heart and ability that make the truly great dancers.
I invite you to read The Crooked Swan. You will not be the same afterwards. The story takes you on an unforgettable journey into the world of dance, so that we may all appreciate and love The Crooked Swans in our lives.
Bio:
About the Author: Julie G. Helm grew up in Idaho, lived several years abroad, and has spent the last twenty-three years living in Utah. She has been writing stories for children, young adults, and adults as long as she can remember. At present she has three books on the market, The Crooked Swan, The Lost Monster Tales, and Merlin for Sherman. She has belonged to one of the top fantasy and science fiction writer’s groups in the area, acted as the liaison for the BYU Writer’s Conferences, and worked as an acquisitions editor for Gibbs Smith Publishers. She won first place in an area writer’s conference judged by the late Roger Zelazney. Along with raising her six children with a devoted husband, Greg, she continues to write stories to delight and thrill all those who read her books.
Welcome to the Dragon’s Teeth Blog Tour stop! Check out the excerpt below of this cyberpunk thriller!
Title: Dragon’s Teeth
Genre: Cyberpunk
Publisher: Divertir Publishing
Blurb:
You can never outrun your past…
After years of war ravage the globe and decimate humanity, civilization is revitalized in the city of New Arcadia, a cybernetic playground where longevity treatments promise near immortality.Detective Cyrus, fond of fedoras and narcotics, is hired by Benji MacDowell, heir-apparent to an eugenics empire, to find MacDowell’s long-lost biological father.
Employing his network of shady contacts within the underbelly of the city, Cyrus uncovers a murderous web of corporate corruption and political conspiracy with ties to the old Order, a tyrannical organization whose sole intent was perfecting the next generation of genetically engineered soldiers.
Now Cyrus knows too much and finds himself caught in the cross-hairs of super-soldier assassins while the dark secrets of his past snap at his heels, forcing him to confront the truth he’s been running from… and discover his own terrifying purpose. Continue reading Blog Tour: Dragon’s Teeth→
Welcome to the Flight Blog Tour stop! The book comes out TODAY! Read on for a cool excerpt and giveaway!
Title: Flight
Series: The Crescent Chronicles, #1
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy
Genre: Mature YA/New Adult Paranormal Romance,
Publisher: self-published
Ebook
Words: 55,000
Purchase: Not yet released, to be released on August 16th
Book Description:
Sometimes you just have to take flight.
A summer in New Orleans is exactly what Allie needs before starting college. Accepting her dad’s invitation to work at his hotel offers an escape from her ex-boyfriend and the chance to spend the summer with her best friend. Meeting a guy is the last thing on her mind—until she sees Levi.
Unable to resist the infuriating yet alluring Levi, Allie finds herself at the center of a supernatural society and forced to decide between following the path she has always trusted or saving a city that might just save her. Continue reading FMB Blog Tour: Flight→
Welcome to my stop on The Rising Moon Blog Tour! Don’t forget to check out my review, and scroll down to see an excerpt.
Title: The Rising Moon
Author: Nilsa Rodriguez
Genre: Paranormal, Romance, Young-Adult
Publisher: Black Dove Publishing
Paperback/Ebook
Pages: 318
Book Description:
How many lives must you live to realize that love is stronger than time and death?
Orphaned at the age of five, Angelia (Lia) Lafosse was left with questions about whom and what she truly was. One thing was clear. Lia was different…some might even say cursed.
With the help of her best friend, Ryan Woodruff, she begins to unlock the secrets of her families past and discover answers that prove more startling than she ever imagined. Not only was she a werewolf, but a reincarnation of the immortal werewolf, a werewolf with immense powers beyond any of her kind. A werewolf that if discovered by the Lobison’s to have returned, can jeopardize both Lia and those she love.
Torn between Lyle Ulric, the charming werewolf whose bloodline is as ancient and powerful as her own. And Adam Ambrose, the mysterious and alluring vampire who’s determined not to allow fate or anyone tear their love apart again.
Today I have a special treat! Jim Galford, author of Into the Desert Wilds, with a guest interview/short story from Oria! I had posed some questions to him for her to answer, and instead, I got a short story! Read on to get this special “extra” from Jim!
Author’s note:
This tidbit was presented in the form of a list of questions for Oria, a main character in Into the Desert Wilds. As character reactions are meaningless without context, I’ve taken the questions and integrated them into a scene that does not occur in the book, but has a place in the timeline. All interviewer questions for the character are merged into this story scene. The actual original questions are listed before the story begins.
Q1) The mists really changed your lives. Can you say what’s the biggest difference now?
Q2) Estin is like a father to you. Is there an advantage to having a ‘prey’ breed as a father figure?
Q3) It seems like you feel the need to prove yourself. Are you trying to do so for your mother or yourself?
Q4) You and your brother have different strengths in combat. Do you attribute this to anything in particular?
Q5) Your younger siblings didn’t get the opportunity to know your homeland, only the desert that you are in now. How do you think this has effected/shaped them?
Q6) What is the greatest strength a leader can have? Weakness?
Q7) What drew you towards Phaesys? What ways is he like/dislike you?
Waiting for the inevitable sunrise and the dangers that would come with it, Oria lay against the side of the crumbling room where they were staying, hoping that sleep would come but knowing better. She closed her eyes in vague hopes of some rest, even if sleep was beyond her reach. Even then, she nervousness about the day to come made her want to fidget or walk around. She found herself mostly changing position as her tail cramped or her ears itched randomly, keeping her on-edge at all times.
“Can’t sleep, kid?” asked one of the elves in the room. The others appeared to be sleeping, but Oria doubted that was the case.
The armored woman, Sirella, sat against the wall nearby with a sword resting across her knees, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. Her long black hair had been braided and draped over her shoulder. Despite having her own eyes closed for nearly an hour, the woman must have been feeling much the same as Oria and was unable to sleep either.
“Just worried about tomorrow,” Oria admitted, pulling her knees up to her chin. “Can’t get my mind off what will…and could…happen.”
Sirella set her sword aside and leaned forward, watching Oria briefly.
“Then would you like to talk about something other than that?”
“Anything else.”
An evil smile passed over Sirella’s lips, making Oria wonder if it was wise to say she would talk about anything with the former leader of a thieves’ guild. Still, it was better than letting her mind race with ideas of who might be hurt or killed in just a few short hours.
Estin by artist Darryl Taylor
“I had questions for Estin that he refused to answer,” noted Sirella. “He never wanted to talk about the past or his family except in terms of wanting to be with them. Would you mind?”
“Go ahead, Sirella. If we even live to see tomorrow, I can decide then whether it was a good idea to tell you any of this.”
“Good girl.”
Scooting a little closer, Sirella glanced over at the other elves in the room, then whispered to Oria, “Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone unless I say it’s alright.”
“You’re not making me feel like this is a good idea. Maybe my dad had the right idea…”
“Nonsense. Do you really want to be as tight-lipped…muzzled…as Estin? Thought not. Besides, it’s just a few questions to pass the time. Where’s the harm in that?”
Folding her legs under her and pulling her bushy tail into her lap, Oria watched Sirella expectantly, reserving judgment on whether she wanted to talk until after hearing the questions.
“Estin said you were all from somewhere in the mountains…”
“Altis. Well, the woods near Altis.”
“…and that it was completely unlike Corraith. Aside from taller rocks, how different could it be?”
“You’ve never seen mountains, have you, Sirella?”
“No. Never got farther than the southern oasis.”
“They’re not like the desert at all, big rocks or not. The majority of the hills and mountains are covered with thick woods—pines for the most part. There aren’t as many rocks as you’d expect, though the cliffs are pretty bare.”
Sirella nodded, though something in her eyes indicated a degree of confusion.
“Pines…big green trees with needles instead of leaves.”
“Similar to palm trees?”
“Not at all. They provide a lot more shelter against the rain and snow.”
Blinking, Sirella seemed totally lost at that point.
“Rain I understand. But you get snow out there?” she asked Oria, wrinkling her nose a little in confusion. “I heard the southern oasis gets a few flakes a year, but mostly they make due with the three or four rainstorms each wet season. Never seen the snow myself.”
Oria laughed and shook her head.
“Not a few flakes. Mounds of it. My last winter there, I was up to my waist in snow, though I was only about as tall as your chest. My brother and I had to be careful not to fall into valleys filled with snow or mom wouldn’t find us until spring. The rains weren’t much different. When those came down, whole sections of the woods would flood out and make new streams.”
Despite her usual careful control of expression, Sirella’s eyes widened and Oria knew she had the woman hooked. Deep down, Oria wished she had an elaborate lie to tell her, but none came to mind easily. A simple one would have to do.
“If it rained too hard,” she told the elven woman, making sure to keep from smiling, “the entire plains below the mountains could wash away. That’s why we stayed in the mountains, so we were above the water.”
Sirella’s face revealed little, but her eyes told Oria that she might have gone too far on that one. The woman did not believe a word of it and might have even dismissed the talk of snow entirely.
“What about your siblings?” she asked Oria.
“What about them?”
“They never got to see the mountains, the snow, or the pines. They only know the desert. Do you think they’ll be different from you and your…your parents?”
“Probably.” She picked at bits of dirt in her tail as she thought a moment. “My father’s people weren’t from the mountains and he turned out fine. Maybe it’s just enough that we remember and that mom and dad raise them. I’m sure Corraith will make them a little different, which is fine, as long as they don’t turn out like the snobby nobles you had around here. I’d have to thump them if they did.”
Sirella giggled at that, then brushed a long strand of her hair back behind her pointed ear as she asked, “You keep saying ‘father,’ when talking about Estin. You’re a fox…not a fox like we have around here, but a predator is a predator, no matter whether they have snow or not. He’s not your real father I’m guessing, so…was it hard growing up with prey as a dad?”
“What was your father like, Sirella?”
“A foul old sot who lost the house in a game of chance when my sister and I were barely old enough to last a night on the streets.”
“Did he care about you, your sister, and your mother?”
“He died trying to put food in our bellies, for all the good it did.”
“My birth father,” Oria began, trying not to think too hard on the topic. It was not something she was comfortable talking about with anyone. “He was scared of my mother…of her power. He loved my brother and I dearly, but as soon as he saw that he was not the top predator in the area, he ran. He took Atall and I and fled from mom, throwing away all the promises he’d made her. He was a warrior, a decent male, and would have been a good father…if he hadn’t gotten himself killed running from his mate.
“He, unlike Estin, was a predator for all the good it did him.”
“That doesn’t really change that your ‘dad’ probably looks and smells like dinner to your mom. That can’t be healthy.”
Feanne by artist Darryl Taylor
Nodding, Oria answered, “It wasn’t. Mostly it was hard on mom, though. The camp did not exactly approve and many really wanted to see her gut him. They could get along with predators and prey living as neighbors, but her taking him as her mate was not a popular choice. Before it was official was the worst…at least after she made it public, the pack had to stand by her decision or openly oppose her, which was not a wise thing to do.”
“So your mother chose him…so what? I’d still think a predator would consider him beneath them.”
That amused Oria and she laughed a little at the thought.
“My birth father gave up his life for his children, but abandoned his mate. Without hesitation, Estin would give up his life for any of Feanne’s children, whether they are his or not. He doesn’t care who our father is. His life belongs as much to us as to our mother. I’ve never seen that kind of dedication in anyone of any breed or race. He’s my father because of who he is, not anything to do with birth, breed, or anything else. Besides…us not knowing if he might actually be our real father means looking at him as prey would say something bad about my siblings and I.”
Sirella pondered that for a while, then motioned for Oria to stay quiet as she ran off to investigate something. It did not take long and she returned, taking her seat beside Oria again.
“Old rubble falling,” she explained. “Thought they might have found us, but we’re still getting lucky.”
They sat in silence for some time, the only sounds being the shallow breathing of the other thieves that had come with them. When Sirella spoke next, it jarred Oria and she realized she had been lost in thought.
“Your family is leaving as soon as things calm down, aren’t they?” the woman asked Oria, more of a statement than a question.
“As soon as this battle is done. We don’t belong here. The soldiers are terrified of my mother and would love nothing more than to kill my father. The city itself doesn’t need us or people like us. We’re better off trying to make our way home.”
“Your mother to her role as pack leader and you to wait to inherit it? Sounds thrilling.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Oria replied, realizing that it was the first time she had really thought about that in many months. “If and when mom dies, the strongest or most respected member takes charge. I don’t get anything without work…and a lot of fights.”
Sirella smiled knowingly, asking, “Is that why you’re out here, risking yourself with us lowlifes? Trying to prove yourself for when you go home?”
“There’s no pack left to impress. They may have all died around the time we left. We won’t know until we go home.”
“Then you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re strong enough.”
“No, not me…” Oria started to say, then trailed off, wishing she had kept her mouth shut.
“You’re showing off for your mother. You want her to know you’re good enough, whether there’s a pack or not. I did the same thing to impress my parents, at least until I stopped caring what they thought.”
Sirella picked up her sword and lifted it so the point was aimed at the ceiling. With a casual wave of her left hand towards the blade, the weapon burst into flames that glowed red, then shifted to blue, then green. She smiled at Oria, then winked and the flames went out.
“Took me forever to learn to do that,” the elven woman admitted, putting the sword aside. “Now, I realize it doesn’t mean anything. Whether my parents were impressed or not, I’m still a street thief in a city that hates me.
Tricks and personal accomplishments don’t make us better people…they just pass the time.”
Oria nodded quickly, but saw Sirella’s eyes following her every movement. The woman was trying to read her.
“It’s not about mommy and daddy,” whispered Sirella, her sparkling eyes widening with interest. “You were proving it to yourself, but not anymore. You’re showing off for someone else.”
“I don’t know what you…”
“Oh yes you do, kid. It’s the fennec, isn’t it? I saw the sappy way you looked at him back at base. You’re doing this to convince yourself that you’re good enough for him.”
“Shut up, Sirella.”
“He’s a noble, stuck up, born to wealth and privilege, and probably heir to a dozen women…what do you two possibly have in common? I’d think to him, you were just another peasant girl…”
Oria snarled and leapt to her feet, grabbing the taller woman by the armor and slamming her into the wall.
Behind her, she could hear the other elves drawing weapons and could feel them just behind her, waiting for a cue to strike. She did not care, focusing only on Sirella, keeping one hand locked into the woman’s armor to prevent her from moving and the other holding her curved knife. Oria did not even remember drawing the weapon, but she held it steady near Sirella’s throat.
Though she blinked as she hit the wall, Sirella seemed entirely unsurprised and had not a bit of concern on her face.
“I was not criticizing you, kid,” she said, her voice calm despite the weapon near her neck. “That’s how nobles around here think. I’ve dealt with…and stolen from…enough of them that I know it’s true. Getting yourself killed isn’t going to prove anything to him. I don’t know what you see in him, or what he sees in you, but it’d better be something stronger than recklessness to make it work out.”
Letting her weapon drop to her side, Oria released Sirella and stepped away. By the time she turned around, the other thieves were sitting casually around the room as though nothing had happened.
“I don’t know what I see in him,” Oria admitted, shoving her dagger back into its sheath. “He’s handsome and strong, but that isn’t it. I think it’s just that he treats me well…even when I’m being stupid.
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s just as reckless as I am. He tries to prove himself to his father and his soldiers all the time. What sets us apart though is that he tries to be sensible and do the right thing, even if it gets him hurt. He’s like my father in that…he wants to help others, no matter the risk. That’s not something I’m good at and I think I envy that about him just a little. I just want him to know how much I…”
Oria let that trail off and sat down hard. This was not something she had wanted anyone else to hear. It was not even something she really wanted to discuss with herself in the privacy of her own mind.
Kneeling beside her, Sirella lifted Oria’s chin to look her in the eyes.
“If there’s one thing I understand, it’s being stupid about who you love,” the woman said, this time without a hint of deception or sign that she was trying to lead Oria into saying more than she intended. “When this is all over, I’ll help you understand what makes the men of these lands pay attention. You two are good together, that much I saw just in the little time you were both at the base. You just have to undo years of his upbringing if you want to keep him. It’s no different than training any other man, really.”
“Anything,” Oria said softly, pulling her head away. “I feel like I’m losing him and don’t know what I’ll do if that happens.”
A distant horn made everyone in the room look up. Faintly, Oria heard shouts that soon grew into a jumbled rumble of many people yelling at once.
“Worry about your man later. That’s our cue, kid,” Sirella announced, nodding at the others. To the two women in the group and Oria, she added, “It’s time for the girls to show that army of men that it only takes a couple of us to do what a hundred of them are trying to do. Gear up, it’s time to go. Let’s get famous and win back this city.”
Tricia Kristufek 