QUEEN TO ASHES (Black Dawn #2)

Author: Mallory McCartney

Pub. Date: January 8, 2019

Publisher: Clean Reads Publishing

Formats: eBook

“You lived your entire life feeling like half of you was missing. Fight for the missing part. Fight for this.” 

Emory Fae has abandoned everything she thought she knew about her previous life on Earth. Stepping up to her role as Queen of Kiero she makes a startling sacrifice- feigning her allegiances to Adair Stratton, the man who murdered her parents and casted Kiero into ruin. Emory’s memories slowly piece together, and she soon realizes the Mad King may not be all he seems— and the man who was once best friend, may be fighting beneath the surface. 

With the King’s attention on her, can she buy Black Dawn Rebellion enough time to recuperate their forces? And when the times comes, will she be able to kill Adair, ending his tyranny and rising herself as the rightful Queen? Fighting to hide her secret, Emory navigates the brutal trials of the Mad King, trying not to lose herself in the process. 

Sequel to Black Dawn, now a bestselling series, the sparks are ignited, as Emory learns the cost of freedom, and her title. Will the rebels unite in time? A sinister force has spread across the land, stripping everyone bare- their betrayals, their secrets, their intentions. But above all, what will their decisions cost? By refusing to give in to the darkness, will Emory rise as Queen?

Renegade and Black Dawn will be available in the following #Vancouver area locations : Chapters Burnaby, Indigo Surrey, Chapters Coquitlam, Indigo West Vancouver, Indigo Granville (2505 Granville St) and Indigo Robson (1033 Robson St) in December!

Goodreads, Amazon, Amazon Canada

Chapter Two

Emory

All she could hear was buzzing. Tight, unrelenting buzzing. The world dipped, and she was a ghost amongst the living. Hermind screamed that she was going into shock as the color drained from her skin, limbs trembling. Her body betrayed her for the briefest of seconds as Adair looked at her hungrily, his dark gaze ravaging her. The room seemed to tilt, and her mind felt thick and constricted. The bloodied sword was still in her hand, and Brokk’s body splayed out lifelessly between them. Life and Death. Love and Loss. Light and Dark. This is the divide her life had taken, and one that she was completely and utterly lost in. Suffocated in. What had she done? What. Had. She. Done. Before she could take another look, to convince herself that it wasn’t him—it couldn’t have been—a strong hand gripped her arm as Adair’s words registered with her. Then she was ushered out, with the promise of tomorrow on his gaunt lips, and the burly guard led her away from the king. The door shut, sealing away the gory scene. Her breath lodged in her throat, and as they walked away, she adjusted to the world around her. It was numbing her system being out of the cells, the bustle of Adair’s world seeming too sharp, too fast. Her pulse roared, and through the grime and blood she held on, trying not to give in to the deep cracks in her soul. Walk. Breathe. Survive. Make him believe you want him. Then end him. Walk. Breathe. Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive. The guard was silent as he pulled her down the twisting hallways, past the prying eyes and chasing whispers. As they walked, she could barely register what had happened. Again, that buzzing droned out her surroundings. In the arena, her adrenaline had smeared his edges, and he was just a Dark King on a broken throne. But in those few moments in his chamber, during their charged verbal dance, she was so overwhelmed that his presence had unraveled a part of her long forgotten. That out of anyone else, he had brought snippets of blurry memories to surface. The feeling of recognition, of friendship. Of betrayal, of loyalty, of confusion and pain. Swallowing hard, she walked, pushing the thought of the king out from her mind. She thought of nothing, and as they wove through the corrupt kingdom, she gave in to the void and allowed herself to fall until she felt nothing at all. **** The bath water ran, pouring into the clawed tub. It churned, making several eddies in the water. She stood, back stiff, watching the spout gush. Too fast. Too loud. The frothy surface reflected the paint flecking the gold and red of the walls. She blinked, turning slowly. In her chambers, a fire blazed in its hearth, bookcases lined the stone wall, and a huge four-poster bed waited for her. Flush to the sidewall, a closet full of clothing beckoned to her. It was lavish, a place fit for someone the Mad King potentially wanted to keep alive. Not for a prisoner. She shook with adrenaline. For the time being, he had believed her. Her hands were caked with blood. Hissing she clawed at her skin, trying to scrub it off, only making it smear. All she could see was the flash of steel, the spattering of red blood, and the crunch of bone. His golden eyes, echoing of memories and loyalty before everything distorted and twisted. A strangled sound bubbled from her lips as she slid slowly to the floor, not caring about holding her broken pieces together anymore. They had brought Brokk in. The same curve of his lips, same flecked golden eyes. At first glance, it had been, without a doubt, him. All it took was one second. His golden hair turned black; his eyes bled into nothingness, and his edges blurred. Her instinct had screamed imposter. That hadn’t been Brokk, and she had acted on that gut feeling alone. She replayed that moment repeatedly in her mind. The tang of magic was overwhelming, filling her mouth, her nose, her mind. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath. The sword had felt like lead in her hands, and with a flash of steel, glinting in the firelight, she had killed. Her vision twisted and churned, and she barely made it to the washroom before her stomach emptied. Cold sweat coated her body as she retched and retched repeatedly. Gasping, she wiped her mouth and sat down, breathing hard. Hot tears streaked down her face, and she screamed, biting her shaking knuckles. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and she ripped her hand away, her breath coming in ragged gulps. She was in a lethal dance between past and truth, between love and loyalty. Closing her eyes for a moment she willed herself to see all their faces. Memphis. Brokk. Alby. Azarius. Even Nyx. She hoped they were safe and had found time to grieve for the Rebellion. And for Nyx, that she had time to explain, that she didn’t lose her only family. Leaning over, she shut the tap off, and throwing her clothes down onto the tiled floor, she slipped into the steamy waters. It instantly turned pink from the blood. She took the creamy bar of soap and scrubbed herself until her skin was raw. Her mind spun and spun in the harsh play by play. The real Brokk knew coming to Adair’s doorstep would warrant his death. A plan that reckless after so many years of hiding… Emory paced. It couldn’t work, could it? A soft whimper escaped her, her voice cracking. She took in a deep breath, and closing her eyes, she dunked underwater, allowing herself to free float. The water was steaming hot, loosening the knots in her muscles and easing the tension from her soul. But those whispers that had chased her, finally caught up. Emory Fae, liar, betrayer. She wouldn’t have been able to go through with her plan if the rebellion had known. Memphis would have tried to stop her. Her heart gave a painful clench, and her lungs were on fire as she burst up, gasping for oxygen, splashing water everywhere, then slipping back under. Those final days and nights in the cell were filled with terror. The darkness seeped from every angle, and her mind was the target. Memory after memory came to her in her sleep, in the bowels of Adair’s kingdom. And she remembered the frigid air circling around her as she pled with Memphis and Brokk, for them to come with her. And Memphis, he took away her memories of Kiero, of her life as she was plunged into the unknown world. She had been so wrong about her mysterious shifter. Brokk had been twisted by a best friend’s jealousy, and she had complied, not allowing him to prove what he had been to her—what he meant to her. Bursting through the surface of the bath, her lungs screamed for air. She rubbed her eyes, sighing deeply. Yet it came, snippets of her life as she pieced the puzzle together. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the haunted man. She would play her part very, very well. She would pass these trials, and then as Queen, she would free them all, and destroy him. Once and for all. If she survived. If she believed she had a running chance to overcome Adair and find a way to get to the Rebellion. If. If. If. Gnashing her teeth together, she stood, getting out of the tub. Wrapping herself in soft towels, she stalked towards her bed, eyeing where a small tray of sliced meats, cheeses, and fruits lay on her bed stand. Her mouth dropped opened as she lunged towards the tray, shovelling it in. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten. It was heavenly. She pushed down the guilt as she chewed. She wouldn’t be any use half-starved. Sighing, she flopped on the bed, and she couldn’t help herself as she started to drift off, the whispers of her mind bringing her into a restless sleep filled with dreams of dark eyes and steel cages, trying to keep her locked away. And her, never fast enough to outrun any of them.

RENEGADE (Black Dawn 0.5)

Author: Mallory McCartney

Pub. Date: July 3, 2018

Publisher: Clean Reads Publishing

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 274

“The time for Kiero’s reign in prosperity is over.”

Six years before the Black Dawn Rebellion, Adair Stratton and Emory Fae are following in their parent’s footsteps and living at The Academy, a home for those who are gifted. The pressure to uphold the future of their parent’s dream falls on them. An outcast and feared by most, Adair longs to break away from the expectations dictating his future. Even if Emory tries to make him see differently. An unexpected group of friends keep him there, but as whispers of unexplained disappearances start reaching from the capital, Adair starts to doubt The Academy is all it seems.

An unexpected visit ignites new tensions as the roguish king from across the Black Sea, Tadeas Maher of the Shattered Isles, and his heir, Marquis Maher sail to Kiero. Notorious for their pirating and wrath- for the first time in years, they demand the Fae’s listen to their proposition for a new treaty, holding the news of Nei’s father’s abrupt death over them. Caught in the middle of politics- Adair and Emory, with the help of their best friends Brokk and Memphis search for the one thing that matters most- finding out the truth.

In this gripping prequel to Black Dawn, their world is tipped upside down as unlikely alliances are made. War ravages through Kiero and is torn apart by acclaimed Kings. Through the throes of betrayal, lies, hidden magic and love, Adair is faced with a life changing decision- to fight or to bow to the darkness within him.

Amazon, B&N, TBD, Goodreads

BLACK DAWN (Black Dawn #1)

Author: Mallory McCartney

Release Date: February 14, 2017

Publisher: Clean Reads Publishing

Pages: 352

Formats: Paperback, eBook:

Emory Fae enjoys leading a quiet, normal life. That is until two mysterious, and handsome soldiers show up at her apartment, and the life she knew is instantly whisked away. Memphis Carter and Brokk Foster come from the magical and war ridden world of Kiero, and bringing Emory back she will discover she is the long lost heir to the Royal Line and is thrown into the Black Dawn Rebellion with a dynamic role to ignite the rebels and reclaim her throne.

With both men being darkly woven in her past Emory uncovers hidden secrets, a power held long dormant, and will soon realize there are worse things than supernatural humans, love, loss, betrayal, and a Mad King.

Some things are better left in the shadows.

 Amazon, B&N, TBD, Goodreads

About the Author

Mallory McCartney is the author of the bestselling Black Dawn series. She currently lives in Sarnia, Ontario with her husband and their three dachshunds Link, Lola and Leonard. When she isn’t working on her next novel or reading, she can be found day dreaming about fantasy worlds and hiking. Other favorite pastimes involve reorganizing perpetually overflowing bookshelves and seeking out new coffee and dessert shops.

Website | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | Goodreads

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10 Amazon Gift Card, International.

Giveaway ends March 15 at midnight, EST!

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Tour Schedule

Week One:

2/18/2019- That Transylvanian Chick Book Blog– Spotlight

2/19/2019- BookHounds YA– Excerpt

2/20/2019- The Page Unbound– Excerpt

2/21/2019- Kelly P’s Blog– Spotlight

2/22/2019- A Dream Within A Dream– Excerpt

Week Two:

2/25/2019- Adventures Thru Wonderland– Review

2/26/2019- Novel Novice– Excerpt

2/27/2019- Confessions of a YA Reader– Excerpt

2/28/2019- A Gingerly Review– Excerpt

3/1/2019- dmcireadsblog– Excerpt

Week Three:

3/5/2019- ❧Defining Ways❧- Excerpt

3/6/2019- K.L. Knovitzke – Author– Excerpt

3/7/2019- Lone Tree Reviews– Excerpt

3/8/2019- Lauren is Reading– Review

Week Four:

3/11/2019- D Books and Reviews– Review

3/12/2019- Writer of Wrongs– Excerpt

3/14/2019- Bookriot– Review

3/15/2019- Two Chicks on Books– Excerpt

NARCOSIS ROOM

Author: Louise Cypress

Pub. Date: February 19, 2019

Publisher: Owl Hollow Press

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 318

About the Book

Total Recall meets Scott Westerfeld’s Uglies.

Sleep for three months and make your problems go away.

Ellie Savage is used to promises. Her dermatologist dad and her psychiatrist mom run the Narcosis Clinic, a medical facility famous for ultimate makeovers, where disturbing issues are resolved while patients are beautified. Clients like pop star Dean Mathews are grateful to narcosis for healing their deepest wounds. Ellie is her parents’ most ardent supporter until her dreams become a nightmare. Ellie discovers that her true self has been shredded to bits by the scalpel and the only way for Ellie to remember is to forget everything she thinks she knows.

“The relationship between Cole and Ellie is absorbing (it’s indisputably a mutual affection) while the twins’ dynamic–they’re supportive but playfully combative–is likewise effective. The plot eventually spins into thriller territory but shrewdly incorporates themes of parenting and self-confidence. Cypress’ prose throughout is colorful: a crowd getting into ‘a ginormous frenzy’ and Ellie walking ‘in a fog of convoluted memories and migraine medicine.’ Well-defined characters in a zigzagging medical tale rife with surprises.” —Kirkus

Amazon | B&N | TBD | Goodreads

CHAPTER ONE: ELLIE

3:09 p.m. | JUNE 3RD

The little girl looked like someone had taken her to the butcher shop and ground her face into hamburger. One of her pigtails was crooked, making her scars appear even less symmetrical. She looked up at me from where she was coloring in a book on the coffee table. Her crayon broke.

“That’s quite a grip you’ve got there.” I crouched down and gazed into her dark brown eyes. “Could I color too?” She hesitated. “Please?”

When she pushed the box of crayons over, I gave her my electric smile.

“Ellie.” Mom’s voice had the professional tone she always used around prospective clients. “I’m so glad you’re volunteering in the clinic today because I’d like you to meet Katie.”

“Nice to meet you.” With a contented sigh, I plopped my butt on the floor right next to Katie, and the little girl giggled. I selected a brown crayon the same shade as her skin. “Maybe you could give me some pointers?” I inspected Katie’s depiction of a princess attacking a dragon. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”

Katie smiled at the compliment, but her parents didn’t notice. They both sat in wooden chairs in front of Mom and Dad’s double-wide desk on the other side of the room from where Katie and I colored. Katie’s father clutched a brochure with an iron grip. His wife stared at the wall of diplomas and medical degrees that dominated the room.

Mom smoothed her French twist. Her red hair was the same color as mine. “Ellie’s highly trained at counseling new patients and making them feel at home.”

“She’s the Narcosis Clinic’s version of a candy striper,” Dad added. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, except you never let me eat candy.” I pretended to scowl and leaned against Katie. “Does your dad let you eat sugar?” Katie froze at the contact. I rushed on. “My dad’s a dermatologist. That means a skin doctor. He thinks ice cream and candy are bad for my complexion.” I sat up straighter and did my best Dad impersonation. “‘Modern medical miracles are no substitute for proper nutrition.’”

My parents both chuckled, and then Katie’s parents laughed too—with the wheezing sound of people who had held their breath too long.

I chose a green crayon from the box. “You have no idea how many vegetables they make me eat.”

“I don’t have to eat vegetables,” Katie whispered. “I used to, before the raccoon, but now I can eat anything I want. Even ice cream for breakfast.”

The adults stopped laughing, eyes trained on Katie.

I turned my body to shield her from view. “Ice cream for breakfast sounds delicious.” I shaded in the tail of her dragon. “If you come here, you won’t need to worry about breakfast for three months.”

“That’s what they told me.” Katie set her crayon down, forehead furrowed. “But I still don’t understand.”

“Want me to show you?” I glanced up to Mom, seeking her approval.

“That would be excellent.” Mom leaned back in her chair. “Ellie can show Katie what a narcosis room looks like while we go over the paperwork.”

“Come on, Katie.” I held out my hand. “Let’s go.”

Katie’s tiny fingers sweated in my palm as I led her into the hall, through the locked doors, down the glass staircase, and into the heart of the public lobby. Since the Narcosis Clinic was only a few blocks from the Space Needle, we often got tourists who wandered over from the Seattle Center curious to take a peek at the medical facility famous for making dreams come true.

A seven-minute documentary played on repeat in the foyer. “Narcosis rooms have been around since the 1960s when Dr. William Sargant first used them in London to treat depressed housewives. Despite the dutiful attention of Nightingale nurses, Dr. Sargant’s early experiments in narcosis sometimes caused death and insanity. Thanks to the pioneering work of Doctors Belinda and Warren Savage, narcosis is now safe. If you struggle with any of a variety of health issues, the Narcosis Clinic can help. Patients wake up three months later thinner, happier, and with smoother skin. And they don’t remember a single painful surgery.” I’d heard the spiel so many times it was seared into my mind. “Sleep for three months and make your problems go away. At the Narcosis Clinic, dreams really do come true.”

“We don’t need to watch that,” I told Katie, hurrying her through the metal doors into the staged narcosis room that tourists viewed. “I’ve got something better to show you.” The scent of lavender greeted us, and light filtered in through clouded windows.

“It’s beautiful!” Katie skipped over to the brass bed piled high with silk cushions. When she turned to look at me, her maimed face gouged my heart. “Can I jump on the bed?”

“Of course you can; just let me move these sensors out of the way first.” I slid some tubing aside and made sure the machines housed in stainless steel boxes behind the bed were disconnected. It was real equipment even though it was just for show. “Go for it!”

Katie leaped into the center of the pillow-top mattress and vaulted herself like it was a trampoline. Squealing, she bounced up and down until the comforter tangled and all of the pillows fell onto the floor. When she finally collapsed in a heap of exhaustion, I pulled over one steel container with a small monitor sticking out the top.

“See this computer?” I flicked a switch on the side of the box and the monitor turned white. “It monitors patients while they sleep.” I pointed to a smaller box next to it that had headphones attached. “And that’s the computer for psychic-driving.”

Katie sat back up so she could see. “Like driving a car?”

“More like driving a brain. If a person comes in here feeling sad, my mom plays a psychic-driving tape that says, ‘I love my life. I am happy all the time.’ Or something like that. Then, when the patient wakes up, she’s all better.”

Katie wrinkled her scarred forehead. “What will the tape say for me?”

“I don’t know. What do you think it will say?”

Katie looked down at her hands. I hadn’t noticed before, but a chunk of flesh was missing from her left elbow. Mom could heal that too. In addition to being a psychiatrist, she was a plastic surgeon.

“Maybe the tapes would say something about the raccoon,” Katie whispered. “About how not all of them are bad and I don’t need to be afraid all the time.”

I swallowed hard. “Hold on a sec. Your pigtails are crooked.” I reached over and adjusted the offending hairdo. If only everything were so easy to fix. “Much better.” Katie’s smile made me glow inside. “Do you have nightmares?”

Katie nodded. “It’s hard to sleep. The other doctors said the only thing they could give me was medicine.”

“Well, those doctors don’t know everything. My parents are brilliant.”

“Really?” Katie looked up at me under a fringe of long eyelashes.

“I promise you and your beautiful eyes that you’ve come to the right place.”

Another smile burst across Katie’s face even as her brown eyes welled with tears. “Nobody says that word about me anymore.”

My eyes became wet too, especially after I kissed Katie on her hamburger cheek. “Don’t worry, Princess Katie. Three months from now, everyone will say that you’re beautiful.”

A couple of hours later, my parents and I were upstairs in our residence making an early dinner. “You’re remarkable,” Mom said to me as she stood at the kitchen counter grating carrots for a salad. She’d traded her heels for slippers and wore an apron that said “Surgeons know how to slice.” “You’re so poised and helpful. Every day you make your father and me proud.”

I flushed at the praise and took down some plates so that I could set the table.

“No, really.” Mom dumped the veggies into a bowl. “The way you handled that patient today was exceptional. By the time you brought Katie back into the room, she was begging her parents to sign the papers.”

“I can’t believe they were nervous in the first place.” Dad adjusted the burner, where he pan-fried salmon. “If Katie were my daughter, there’d be no way I’d let her live like that. Ninety days of treatment will fix everything.”

“Now, Warren, let’s not judge.” Mom rinsed lettuce over the sink. “Subjecting your child to elective surgery is scary.”

I shook out the placemats. “I don’t think reconstructing Katie’s face counts as elective.”

Dad nodded in agreement.

“And I hope they killed that raccoon.”

“Ellie!” Mom chided me.

“You can’t honestly hope the raccoon is still alive?” I set three plates on the kitchen table then sat in my usual chair.

“The only thing we can control is what happens inside the clinic.”

“Always the objective scientist.” Dad kissed Mom on the top of her head on his way to bringing the salmon to the table.

“I can’t help what I can’t help.” Mom took off her apron and hung it on her chair before sitting down. “So I don’t bother worrying about what’s beyond my control.” She picked up her napkin and placed it on her lap. “Speaking of which…”

I stared at my empty plate. “I’m not sure what I want to do.”

“We could still send you to camp this summer like you told your friends you’d be doing.” Dad broke off a piece of fillet and slid it on my dish before serving Mom and himself.

“Archery and canoeing sound like a blast,” I said sarcastically.

Dad shrugged. “Starting another round of narcosis is entirely your decision.”

“I’d psychic-drive all the AP prep directly into your head,” Mom said with a tempting tone. “Wouldn’t that make senior year easy? But there’s nothing wrong with studying the old-fashioned way too. We could send you to camp with flashcards instead.”

“The school bit would be a nice bonus, but that’s not the reason I would do narcosis.”

Dad set down his wine glass. “Your nightmares might go away with time.”

“I’ll find you a new therapist,” Mom offered, “to help you with your phobia.”

“But what about my lost memories?” I accidentally dropped my fork, and it clattered to the table. “How would I get those back?”

“Even with narcosis, there’s no guarantee,” said Mom. “Retrograde amnesia is hard to cure.”

“But you said if my brain can rest and feel safe for three months, there’s a good chance my memories will come back on their own.”

“Maybe.” Dad twisted his napkin. “We never should have sent you to boarding school. I wish I knew what happened that is making your brain forget.”

“At least I came back speaking French.”

“Not worth it.” Mom’s voice shook. “I’ll never forgive myself.

“Me either,” said Dad.

I hated when they beat themselves up like that. “Guys, it wasn’t your fault. Dad didn’t go wacko when he went to Remington Prep.”

“Don’t say that!” Mom slapped the table. “Not only is it politically incorrect, you’re doing great now. When your brain is ready to remember, it will. Another summer of narcosis might help you remember faster, but I can’t make any promises. That’s why this is your decision.” Mom took my hand in hers.

“Thanks, Mom.” I squeezed her hand. “I think I want to go for it, but I’ll let you know in the morning for sure.” I looked at Dad. “Okay?”

He reached for my other hand. “Absolutely.”

Chapter originally posted on Owl Hollow Press’s Website

About the Author

Jennifer Bardsley writes the parenting column “I Brake for Moms” for The Everett Daily Herald. You can find Jennifer on her website: http://JenniferBardsley.net or on her Facebook page: The YA Gal. An alumna of Stanford University, Jennifer lives in Edmonds, WA with her husband and two children.

Click here to subscribe to The YA Gal’s newsletter.

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Giveaway

2 lucky winners will win a finished copy of NARCOISIS ROOM, US Only.

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule

Week One:

2/18/2019- The Page Unbound– Excerpt

2/19/2019- Simply Daniel Radcliffe– Review

2/20/2019- K.L. Knovitzke – Author– Excerpt

2/21/2019- What A Nerd Girl Says– Review

2/22/2019- Lauren is Reading– Review

Week Two:

2/25/2019- Novel Novice– Excerpt

2/26/2019- Adventures Thru Wonderland– Review

2/27/2019- Kelly P’s Blog– Excerpt

2/28/2019- Character Madness and Musings– Spotlight

3/1/2019- BookHounds YA– Excerpt

Birth
By Donna Russo Morin
(Once, Upon a New Time, #1)
Publication date: February 15th 2019
Genres: Adult, Fantasy
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis

New worlds don’t appear. They are born from the labor of those who envision them.

Count Witon has grown weary of the constant war between the races. Together with his wife Belamay, and Persky – first of a rare Human / Elf breed – Witon plans to create a new society: a utopia for anyone who longs for peaceful coexistence.

They recruit pilgrims from every city and species; most to success, some to failure. Together, they set off to a small, yet promising island, found by chance in the middle of the churning ocean.

But the journey there is fraught with challenges, and none of them is as dire as the one they face once they reach their destination. Will they have the strength and determination to give Birth to this New Time?

Once, Upon A New Time is a medieval fantasy with a double-edged sword: one of blood, the other of lust.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43697032-birth?ac=1&from_search=true

Purchase
Amazon

Excerpt

The explosion screeched through his ears and he brought his cupped hands up to shield them. His hands quivered against the cold flesh of his skull. He cracked open sleep-swollen eyes but saw no cabin, no floor or walls. He saw instead only chaos, a battlefield where creatures of every sort ran hither and yon, heedless of any purposeful direction. His nostrils flared against the stench of burning flesh, fur, and hair. Shrieking, sobbing, and the twang of launching arrows filled the hollows between cannon blasts. He turned and there, a decapitated Troll… a screaming, legless Goblin… an eviscerated Elf.

Witon squeezed his eyelids shut, rubbing them with balled fists. He brought his hands down, unfurling them, staring at the sticky, moist blood staining them dark and ruddy brown.

“No.” He shook his muddled head, mumbling to himself. “No. The wars are over for me.”

The bloodstain marks faded and vanished, an unwanted, unbidden phantom of his previous life.

The second explosion burst upon his ears at the same moment he tumbled from his hammock, a hammock designed to sway with the rolling of the ship. Witon smashed his head on the floor just as he heard the cry of his name from someone up on deck, the panic clear in the strained voice. He sat up, trying to shake some sense into his befuddled and bruised brain. The blinding whiteness of lightning stung his eyes as the crash of deafening thunder plundered his ears.

“Storm.” He spoke aloud the accursed word.

Witon jumped up, almost cracking his head once more on the low ceiling. He rushed from the cabin, tripping on the scattered items tossed to the floor, but gained his balance before he fell again.

The hallway was short and the stairs few, but it felt like miles before he reached the upper deck. Witon’s body flayed back and forth against the passageway’s close walls. Between blasts of thunder, desperate shouts of the crew mingled with the passenger’s fearful cries.

Witon’s head poked above deck, his skin immediately stung by the brutal, wind-driven rain, his eyes almost closing against the onslaught. His brother and Persky besieged him.

“It came upon us in a flash! We couldn’t prepare!” Mitren screamed over the roar of thunder and the blasting wind.

“We’re taking on water. The crew can’t seem to keep up with it!” Persky cried, choking on the deluge of rain rushing into his open mouth. His pale green eyes bulged from his small head and his ashen green skin had turned a sickly yellow.

Witon scanned the terrifying scene. It was morning, he knew it for a certainty. If the sun showed its face, it would be over the horizon, but it hid behind a veil of darkness, a dark beyond dark. Black clouds filled the entire sky, turning it to a low-hanging, ominous roof. The rain poured out, the water hanging from the bottom of the clouds, a wall of liquid crashing down upon them. All around him, every manner of creature held fast to whatever they could grasp. The boat rocked tumultuously. It took every ounce of strength not to topple over and out of the vessel.

Witon looked up. The crew had managed to pull in the sails but couldn’t batten them down. They flapped in the wind from the bottom of the masts like white ghosts hovering just above the deck of the ship.

Witon looked to the side and sucked in his breath—as well as the water streaming down his face—so fast, he spluttered and coughed.

The ocean came to life, alive and angry. The waves rushed at them, one right after the other, many feet above the ship’s ten-foot sides from waterline to railing. The raging, surging sea pummeled every being on board, again and again, as it crashed over the sides.

“What do we do, Witon, what do we do?” Mitren screamed.

Witon looked at his brother and saw his own stark fear reflected in the familiar eyes.

“Stay alive.”

About the Author

Donna Russo Morin is an award-winning historical fiction author. Donna has dabbled as a model and actor, working on Showtime’s Brotherhood and Martin Scorsese’s The Departed. Branching out with her storytelling skills, Donna is now a screenwriter. A graduate of the University of Rhode Island, Donna lives on the south shore of Rhode Island close to the ocean she loves so very much. She is the proud mother of two sons, Devon and Dylan, her greatest works in progress.

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