Promo: The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer by Laxmi Hariharan

Buy the book at  FLIPKART (Paperback) / AMAZON (e-book)

Book blurb:

An angry young girl, desperate to rescue her best friend.A sexy cop willing to do anything to save the city he serves.A delusional doctor bent on annihilation.
The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer is a fast paced, gritty, thriller, with strong dystopian undertones and a kickass protagonist, taking you on a white-knuckle-ride through a disintegrating Bombay City.
When Ruby Iyer's best friend is kidnapped by the despotic Dr Kamini Braganza, she will do anything to rescue him. Anything, including taking the help of the mysterious Vikram Roy, a cop-turned-rogue on a mission to save Bombay. The city needs all the help it can get, and these two are the only thing standing between its total destruction by Dr Braganza's teen army. As Bombay falls apart around them, will Ruby be able to save her friend and the city? Will she finally discover her place in a city where she has never managed to fit in? And what about her growing feelings for Vikram?

Excerpt:

Normally, you trust people who come from backgrounds similar to you. In my case, it’s just the opposite. The nearer the blood, the bloodier—another of Dad’s famous sayings is stuck in my head. I left home, but they haven’t left me. I mean, how much of our parents do we carry around inside us? Do we even know?Then the car is flying up, shooting through the air like a jet at take-off, only to crash nose-down. Like a soccer ball, we bounce once on the front tyres, then the car overturns, turning cartwheels before landing on its side—Vikram’s side—in a sickening crunch.There’s a second screech as another car rams us again from behind, sending us into a tailspin. I look across to Vikram, seeing the world swirl around him. His eyes are still open with shock, staring straight ahead, his hands glued to the steering wheel, still trying to make a difference. The sword I tossed on the floor boomerangs through the air before hitting me on the back of my head. Grabbing it, I hold on.The car swirls once more, like milk lazily being stirred into chai, before jarring to a standstill. The shock jams me against the seat, the car belt still holding me back. Then, it's quiet. Except for a steady drip-drip-drip of liquid … It’s the petrol from the fuel tank.This vehicle is going to catch fire soon.Vikram is hunched over the wheel, his face towards me, eyes closed, and a cut over his forehead that is already bleeding a trail of red over his cheek.The creepy-crawlies inside me hit a new high, like a falsetto in a concerto. It’s really way too hot now, the flames consuming me. Then, cold violet liquid runs under my skin, making me shiver.The remainder of my car window explodes, the bang so loud I think we are being shot at. Shards of glass tinkle over me, feather-light flakes in a snow globe. They fall over my face, bouncing against my forearms, the whitened knuckles of my palms still clutched around the sword. My heart rams against my rib cage, beating so fast I think it's going to jump out of my chest. With trembling hands, I unsheathe the blade. Plunging it through the window, I scrape against the side all the way around the frame, shaking out the remaining glass pieces. The sharp edge of the steel cuts through the seat belt and I am free the next moment, folding over to hit my forehead against the dashboard. The jolt lunges through the haze in my head.
The overpowering smell of petrol draws me to the opening in the window. My sword goes first. Then, swivelling my back to the door, I push my hands onto the roof outside, pulling through so my head and shoulders pop out through the opening. As I slide through the frame, my back scrapes against some of the sharp edges. I can see the tips of the glass draw against my skin, carving through the soft flesh so drops of blood bead the shattered geometry. All the other parts of my body pale in comparison. There is just me now, and that straight line of red I see in my mind’s eye. And just like that, there are no longer that many thoughts running around my head.
I can breathe again.Think again.Concentrate.I jump onto the tarred surface, the broken glass slivers crunching under my sneakers. Picking up the machete, I hold it out in front of me with both my hands, and running around the other side—wham!—I slam it at the windshield, denting it a little. Raising it once more, this time over my head, I close my eyes for a second, concentrating on the trickle of blood creeping down my back. It cleanses all remaining thoughts. Everything else drops away but for that straight silver line of pain tearing down my back, slashing across the lightning tree.
I don’t have too long, for this high I am coasting on will crash. But before that, I bring down the broad side of the blade with so much force that it goes through the glass cleanly. I don’t feel the vibration spiralling out from the force of the blow. All I can think is get him out of this damn car!
Pulling out the blade, I bring it down once more—thwack!—in the exact same space as the previous blow.
This time, the glass shatters. Bringing the machete all the way up, I drag it with all the traction I can muster in my muscles all the way to the top of the windshield, and then around the edges, down to the bottom and centre. The right side of the windshield comes off.
A cloud of petrol fumes leap at me through the gap, almost gagging me. This car is going to blow. Soon!
 Dropping the sword, along with its scabbard, I take one end of the windshield and pull at it till it gives away some more. Leaning through the space, I push Vikram against the seat and undo his seat belt. He groans, and his eyes flutter open.Thankfully.There is no way I can pull him out singlehanded from of the car.

NEWS! 

For now, you can download The Ruby Iyer Diaries, a free prequel to The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer right here. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

A near life incident told Laxmi Hariharan to write. She never stopped. Laxmi  is the author of The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer, which debuted #1 Hot New Release Amazon Asian Lit. You can also download the prequel, The Ruby Iyer Diaries, FREE on Amazon US. She has been a journalist, and a global marketer. Now, she is the creator of Ruby Iyer. 

AUTHOR LINKS: TWITTER | FACEBOOK | NEWSLETTER

GIVEAWAY: (optional)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Enter to win an e-book of The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer (INT)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Event hosted by: 

 Thank you so much for stopping by!

Until the next time, 

Blog Tour: Silk by Chris Karlsen

Welcome to my tour stop for the historical suspense novel Silk by Chris Karlsen. This is an adult book and is rated NC17. This is a review tour runs March 16-27th. Check out the tour page for more information and the tour schedule.

Buy the book at Amazon

Book summary: 

Silk on the skin—luxurious, luscious..lethal.
London-Fall, 1888
The city is in a panic as Jack the Ripper continues his murderous spree. While the Whitechapel police struggle to find him, Detective Inspector Rudyard Bloodstone and his partner are working feverishly to find their own serial killer. The British Museum's beautiful gardens have become a killing ground for young women strangled as they stroll through.
Their investigation has them brushing up against Viscount Everhard, a powerful member of the House of Lords, and a friend to Queen Victoria. When the circumstantial evidence points to him as a suspect, Rudyard must deal with the political blowback, and knows if they are going to go after the viscount, they'd better be right and have proof.
As the body count grows and the public clamor for the detectives to do more, inter-department rivalries complicate the already difficult case.
 What would you do to stay young: Lie, Manipulate..kill?

Excerpt

Events of the day and the potential satisfaction of giving Napier a bloody nose dwindled. Questions about the murder crept back into Ruddy's thoughts. Morris joined him at his table in the rear of the pub with a Guinness, the popular beer of choice in hand. “You’ve got the look of a man whose thoughts are a long distance from London.”
“No, sadly my thoughts are fixed here in the city. I’m trying to figure out a clue. Ellis’s roommate said she’d sometimes meet with a well-dressed man, a man of means the victim indicated. They’d meet up at the fountain by the British Museum.”
“Don’t know the spot but then the museum isn’t my cup of tea.”
“Not the point. I’m saying it’s odd. What member of the upper class chooses to stroll through a public garden other than Hyde or Regents, where they can see and be seen by one of their own?”
“I agree the wealthy prefer the parks filled with others of their kind but it doesn’t mean a man can’t enjoy someplace different.”
“We interviewed the guard again. The one that discovered the body walks that half of the building. He told us the majority of their male patrons are natty dressers, but he never saw a man like that loitering by the fountain.”
“My guess is: the man is married and can’t afford to run the risk of being seen by a friend of his wife’s. Or, he might live or work in the area and the spot is convenient.”
“Or, he’s a murderer who’s noticed the victim walking through the park on a regular basis, saw it as an opportunity and cozied up to her.”
Ruddy took another swallow of his ale, mentally debating the merit of each theory. “I don’t think he lives in the area. If so, he’d have cut through the park more and been seen by the guards. Not sure about the married man having a tryst idea."
To Ruddy's way of thinking, if the man was married and looking for a tumble, he’d have met her someplace other than the gardens and at a better hour.
Instinct drew him back to his original sense of the culprit and crime. “I feel like this was a crime of opportunity. I’ve thought it all along and can’t shake the sense.”
“If he was just seeking a victim, then why haven’t you had more murders like this?” Morris asked.
Ruddy downed the rest of his beer and put his tankard on the edge of the table where June would refill it. “Everyone has to start somewhere. She might be number one.”

 Book trailer

About the Author:

I was born and raised in Chicago. My father was a history professor and my mother was, and is, a voracious reader. I grew up with a love of history and books.
My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.
I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream. I write two different series. My paranormal romance series is called, Knights in Time. My romantic thriller series is, Dangerous Waters.
I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband, four rescue dogs and a rescue horse.

Author's 

Website / Facebook / Pinterest

Giveaway

Each tour stop is giving away one kindle copy of SILK, just comment to enter!

In addition, fill out the rafflecopter to enter to win:

Kindle copy of SILK, swag bag & a $10 Amazon gift card (INT)

Ends April 1, 2015

a Rafflecopter giveaway

This event was organized by CBB Book Promotions.

Until the next time, 

Release Day Blitz + #Giveaway: Becoming Rain by K.A. Tucker

  We are dying to share this Release Blitz with you all to celebrate K.A. Tucker's BECOMING RAIN! BECOMING RAIN is a New Adult Romantic Suspense novel, and the second novel in K.A. Tucker’s Burying Water Series, published by Atria books, an Imprint of Simon & Schuster. We hope you're ready for this!

 

BECOMING RAIN US BUY LINKS:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books-a-Million | IndieBound | Apple | Blio | Books-a-Million | Google

UK BUY LINKS/BECOMING RAIN:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Google | Waterstones | Foyles

About BECOMING RAIN:

Luke Boone doesn't know exactly what his uncle Rust is involved in but he wants in on it-the cars, the money, the women. And it looks like he's finally getting his wish. When Rust hands him the managerial keys to the garage, they come with a second set-one that opens up the door to tons of cash and opportunity. Though it's not exactly legal, Luke's never been one to worry about that sort of thing. Especially when it puts him behind the wheel of a Porsche 911 and onto the radar of gorgeous socialite named Rain. Clara Bertelli is at the top of her game-at only twenty-six years old, she's one of the most successful undercover officers in the Washington D.C. major crime unit, and she's just been handed a case that could catapult her career and expose one of the west coast's most notorious car theft rings. But, in order to do it, she'll need to go deep undercover as Rain Martines. Her target? The twenty-four-year old nephew of a key player who appears ready to follow in his uncle's footsteps. As Clara drifts deeper into the luxurious lifestyle of Rain, and further into the arms of her very attractive and charming target, the lines between right and wrong start to blur, making her wonder if she'll be able to leave it all behind. Or if she'll even want to. 

   


And don’t forget BURYING WATER, the first book in this thrilling series…

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** iBooks ** Kobo ** IndieBound

About BURYING WATER:
 The top-selling, beloved indie author of Ten Tiny Breaths returns with a new romance about a young woman who loses her memory—and the man who knows that the only way to protect her is to stay away. Left for dead in the fields of rural Oregon, a young woman defies all odds and survives—but she awakens with no idea who she is, or what happened to her. Refusing to answer to “Jane Doe” for another day, the woman renames herself “Water” for the tiny, hidden marking on her body—the only clue to her past. Taken in by old Ginny Fitzgerald, a crotchety but kind lady living on a nearby horse farm, Water slowly begins building a new life. But as she attempts to piece together the fleeting slivers of her memory, more questions emerge: Who is the next-door neighbor, quietly toiling under the hood of his Barracuda? Why won’t Ginny let him step foot on her property? And why does Water feel she recognizes him? Twenty-four-year-old Jesse Welles doesn’t know how long it will be before Water gets her memory back. For her sake, Jesse hopes the answer is never. He knows that she’ll stay so much safer—and happier—that way. And that’s why, as hard as it is, he needs to keep his distance. Because getting too close could flood her with realities better left buried. The trouble is, water always seems to find its way to the surface.  

 BECOMING RAIN EXCERPT 

Screwing the customers . . .” Miller grumbles, pushing the filing cabinet shut with a loud metal bang.

Only the pretty ones.” And she is that. It wasn’t until she lifted her sunglasses that she had my undivided attention. Those big, blue eyes up against an olive complexion are striking. I wouldn’t have guessed Italian. Mediterranean, definitely.

Exotic, dark-haired, killer body—my type exactly.

“You’re going to lose business for the garage.”

“Relax. I wasn’t the one fishing.” And there was definite fishing on her part. For a long while there, I wasn’t sure I wanted to take the bait. Everything about her—her upscale style, her expensive car, her cool demeanor—says she’s my kind of girl, and therein lies the problem. My kind of girl is good for one thing, and it’s not having lunch over at the food carts of Portland. Or conversation, in general.

Give those kinds of girls more and suddenly they become work, and money. Endless streams on both accounts. Rust warned me about them years ago. Thank God I haven’t tumbled into any of their traps. Even Priscilla, my fallback lay, who I consider a friend, knows exactly where we stand in terms of our “relationship” and that I don’t have the kind of money she wants—even she will occasionally try her hand at sucking more out of me. A new bracelet, cash for rent, a tank of gas for the BMW that her last sugar daddy handed her . . .

But Rain was cute today, in a feisty way, humoring me by taking a bite of that sandwich that she was so obviously not going to enjoy. Her nose crinkling up at the sight of it. Her witty little insult. The way she hung back, waiting, hoping for a chance to see me again but not willing to come right out and ask after already being so forward earlier. Girls like Priscilla would have kept pushing. But Rain obviously has some self-respect.

And when she started walking out of the office, I couldn’t help myself.

I punch her number into my phone so I can call her after work. If I’m lucky, I’ll also have her naked and tangled in my sheets later tonight.

 About K.A. Tucker:

   Born in small-town Ontario, Kathleen published her first book at the age of six with the help of her elementary school librarian and a box of crayons. She is a voracious reader and the farthest thing from a genre-snob, loving everything from High Fantasy to Chick Lit. Kathleen currently resides in a quaint small town outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.        

Website ** Twitter ** Facebook ** Novel Goodreads ** Author Goodreads ** YouTube ** Pinterest ** Instagram

 ***GIVEAWAY***

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Spotlight: Realm of Goddess by Sabina Khan

Buy the book at Amazon 

Book summary:

Seventeen year old Callie discovers she is an avatar of the powerful Hindu Goddess Kali and she has to save the world from Mahisha, the King of Demons. Now Callie has to accept her fate and control her powers. Before she can face Mahisha, she must find the Sword of Knowledge that the Immortals had given Kali five thousand years ago.As Callie embarks upon the dangerous quest to find this weapon, she must travel deep into the jungles of India to find a temple that time has forgotten. The Rakshakari, who are sworn to protect the Goddess, guide her on this treacherous journey, fraught with demons and mortal conspiracies.She is accompanied by the gorgeous, enigmatic Shiv for whom she feels an inexplicable but undeniable attraction. Can she trust Shiv with her life or are there dark forces at work that will divide loyalties and leave Callie at the mercy of Mahisha and his army of demons?

Excerpt

Ten years before, my parents and I had lived in Kolkata, City of Joy — only I didn’t remember a whole lot of joy, just heat. Intense heat and an unbearable stench. It was everywhere, rising from the open sewers in waves and permeating the air so that it stayed with you wherever you went. And all the people. I was used to big crowds and intense heat, but this was ridiculous. You could barely move, and then only at a snail’s pace. That was bad, because your first instinct was to get out of the crowds and into a secluded spot, preferably in the shade. But here on the banks of the Hooghly River in Kolkata in the middle of summer there was no escape. We were visiting the temple of the Goddess Kali, one of the oldest, most revered places of worship in the city. That morning we tried to get an early start to avoid the crowds that were expected later in the day, but judging by the number of people there already, I didn’t know how there could be any more. As we slowly made our way to the temple grounds, the crowd started to thin. I could see many people heading off toward the courtyard while a few entered the main temple that housed the famous statue. Mom had told me that she and Dad had to get special permits to enter the restricted areas on the inside. Apparently some of the worshippers did not come for the Goddess but rather to try to steal the valuable gold ornaments she wore and the ancient artifacts she held in each of her six arms. “Wow,” I said breathlessly as we approached the main temple. “This is amazing.” The two-thousand-year-old structure stood majestically, its nine spires rising up to meet the sky. The intricate carvings on the outside ran all the way to the top. Dad put his arm around my shoulder. “Callie, we’ll need about an hour with the head priest to go over our research, but you can look around, okay? Just don’t leave the main building. We don’t want you getting lost.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be fine, Dad. Just don’t take too long. You promised we would go to the mall after.” Just then the head priest came out to meet us. He was dressed in a cream-colored dhoti and a saffron shawl, typical attire for a man of his position. In the middle of his forehead was a vermillion circle surrounded by three white vertical lines and a Y-shape. I knew that the Y-shape meant he was a devotee of the Goddess Kali and Lord Shiva, her consort. “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Hansen. You have arrived at last. I trust your journey was pleasant.” He greeted us warmly and deftly maneuvered his rather large frame down the stone steps that led down from the temple. He joined his hands in a namaste, the traditional Indian greeting, and bowed slightly. After we had all exchanged pleasantries, he led us back up the stairs toward the main temple. As we entered the inner sanctum, I was struck by how large it was inside. The high ceilings and curved walls gave it a cave-like appearance, while the low, discreet lighting kept the temple cool and dark. After my parents had left with the priest, I looked around first to decide where I was going to start. The main statue stood in the center of the inner temple, while several smaller ones were scattered around the periphery. Each had its own alcove and was cordoned off with thick ropes, no doubt to deter sticky fingers. I decided to leave the Kali statue until the very end and made my way over to some of the smaller ones. I came to a stop in front of a statue of Lord Shiva the Destroyer. There he was in his famous dancing pose as Lord of Dance. I liked this particular version of him, dancing on top of the demon of ignorance. I moved on to the next few statues. There was one of the Goddess Parvati, Shiva’s wife, as well as other minor gods and goddesses of the Hindu pantheon. Finally I came to a stop in front of the statue of Kali. I’d saved the best for last. It was awesome. She was usually depicted as dark and a little frightening, but here she was, bronze and quite beautiful — if you liked strong, powerful and kick-ass women, that is. She was supposed to elicit terror in the evil-hearted, but to me she was the coolest goddess of them all. She was dressed in a beautiful sari made from red silk with gold threads woven in an intricate pattern. Her eyes were black and fierce. Around her neck she wore a necklace of skulls. They belonged to all the demons she had killed. With each of her six arms she carried a weapon. With her three left arms she carried a bow with arrows, a discus and a mace. With the right she carried a thunderbolt, a trident and her sword. Legend had it that all these weapons were given to her by the gods who created her so that she could vanquish the demon king, Mahisha. The gods had each given her their powers so that she was virtually indestructible. My parents, who were both anthropologists, talked about this sort of stuff all the time, so I was quite well versed in Hindu mythology. I stared at the goddess. She looked right back at me, her piercing eyes unwavering. I shook myself mentally, laughing at my silly imagination. As my gaze wandered down, I noticed something. Centered on the base of the statue was a rectangular engraved metal plate with the words DO NOT TOUCH. I really wanted to touch the goddess. I looked around furtively to make sure no one was watching then gingerly reached out to touch the cool stone surface of the statue. Instantly a painful jolt shot up my arm.

About the author

Sabina Khan is the author of Realm of the Goddess, the first in a series of YA Paranormal Fantasy books based on the gods and goddesses of India. She is an educational consultant and a karaoke enthusiast. After living in Germany, Bangladesh, Macao, Illinois and Texas, she has finally settled down in beautiful British Columbia, Canada, with her husband and three daughters, one of whom is a fur baby. She is passionate about the empowerment of girls and women, hoping to inspire them with the strong female characters in her novel.

Author's

Website / Facebook / Twitter

Until the next time,

(Release Day Launch) Inspire by Cora Carmack

 

We are so incredibly excited to be able to bring you the Release Day Launch for Cora Carmack's INSPIRE! INSPIRE is a New Adult Paranormal Romance novel and the first book in her new Muse Series!! Holy canoli, y'all. Go out and get this today!

 

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo

About INSPIRE: 

Kalliope lives with one purpose. To inspire. As an immortal muse, she doesn’t have any other choice. It’s part of how she was made. Musicians, artists, actors—they use her to advance their art, and she uses them to survive. She moves from one artist to the next, never staying long enough to get attached. But all she wants is a different life— a normal one. She’s spent thousands of years living lie after lie, and now she’s ready for something real. Sweet, sexy, and steady, Wilder Bell feels more real than anything else in her long existence. And most importantly… he’s not an artist. He doesn’t want her for her ability. But she can’t turn off the way she influences people, not even to save a man she might love. Because in small doses, she can help make something beautiful, but her ability has just as much capacity to destroy as it does to create. The longer she stays, the more obsessed Wilder will become. It’s happened before, and it never turns out well for the mortal. Her presence may inspire genius. But it breeds madness, too. 

 

 Excerpt: 

I can feel Wilder’s breath against my lips. More than that, I can see it. The sun has set and the temperature has dropped, and air fogs between us. There’s something about actually seeing it, like our lips are touching, we are touching, despite the distance between. And as we sway from side to side, my heart gradually begins to pick up speed. The strains of guitar music flowing out from the restaurant are nearly indecipherable over the heavy heartbeat in my ears. But Wilder must hear it. His hands are strong on my body, guiding my movements, and I’m practically clay in his palms. We dance, eyes on eyes, lips nearly on lips, and there is lightning beneath my skin each time his body brushes against mine in a new way. His touch is firm, but gentle, never pushing or pressuring, though I can tell from the dark look in his eyes that he’s just as affected as I am. The music shifts, building to a crescendo, and he spins us. My chest pushes tight against his, and I bite back a gasp. I don’t know if it’s the cold or him or some combination of both, but the tips of my breasts are painfully tight. Just the pressure of my bra is enough to rub them raw. I remember the night at his apartment, the way he’d taken his time learning my body. I think of the heat of his mouth on my skin, and the memory alone is enough to make me shiver and clench. He’s back to being business, grown-up Wilder tonight in his button down and glasses. Only now that I know him, it doesn’t seem like such a stark difference. He is neither the straight-laced man nor the tattooed bad boy. Or perhaps he’s both. Regardless of what he’s wearing, Wilder is caring and loyal and strong and so sexy that I’m having trouble remembering why I shouldn’t push him into the backseat of his SUV and crawl on top of him. 

About Cora Carmack:
Cora Carmack is a twenty-something writer who likes to write about twenty-something characters. She's done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working retail), Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like writing). She enjoys placing her characters in the most awkward situations possible, and then trying to help them get a boyfriend out of it. Awkward people need love, too. Her first book, LOSING IT, was a New York Times and USA Today bestseller.      

Website ** Twitter ** Facebook ** Author Goodreads ** INSPIRE Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Breaking the Rules by Katie McGarry Release Day Launch

 

We are so excited to bring you the Release Day launch for Katie McGarry's BREAKING THE RULES! BREAKING THE RULES is a Young Adult contemporary romance published by Harlequin Teen, and is the follow-up book to Katie's PUSHING THE LIMITS. You do not want to miss Noah and Echo's story! Grab it today!

 

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** Books-A-Million ** Kobo ** iBooks ** Google Play

  BREAKING THE RULES Synopsis: 

A summer road trip changes everything in this unforgettable new tale from acclaimed author Katie McGarry. For new high school graduate Echo Emerson, a summer road trip out west with her boyfriend means getting away and forgetting what makes her so . . . different. It means seeing cool sights while selling her art at galleries along the way. And most of all, it means almost three months alone with Noah Hutchins, the hot, smart, soul-battered guy who's never judged her. Echo and Noah share everything--except the one thing Echo's just not ready for. But when the source of Echo's constant nightmares comes back into her life, she has to make some tough decisions about what she really wants--even as foster kid Noah's search for his last remaining relatives forces them both to confront some serious truths about life, love, and themselves. Now, with one week left before college orientation, jobs and real life, Echo must decide if Noah's more than the bad-boy fling everyone warned her he'd be. And the last leg of an amazing road trip will turn . . . seriously epic.

 

 And don’t forget to read the first books in the Pushing the Limits Series…

PUSHING THE LIMITS

CROSSING THE LINE

DARE YOU TO

CRASH INTO YOU

TAKE ME ON

Excerpt

(From Noah’s POV)

“Did you fall into some paint, Echo?” Isaiah asks, changing the subject.

Echo’s shoulder slumps as she pivots toward the mirror. She groans as she touches her cheek and forehead that are more red and pink than skin. “Dang it. Why am I such a mess?”

“I think it’s sexy as hell,” I say.

“I think I’m going to barf,” Beth mocks my tone.

Death radiates from the look I send her way. Enough that it should melt her. “Ever sleep in a tent, Beth?”

Beth focuses on the screen while raising her middle finger in my direction.

“Screw it.” Echo turns away from the mirror. “I need a shower.”

I smile, Echo blushes, then I laugh. Damn me for inviting Isaiah and Beth to share our room.

“Anyhow.” An excited glint strikes Echo’s eyes. “Are you ready? I hope you like it. It’s sort of…for you. But it’s not done, okay? I mean, something like this would actually take a while to perfect, so I guess I’m saying—”

“Echo.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s all good.”

“Okay.” Her fingers drum nervously over the top of the canvas before she repeats, “Okay.”

“I’m assuming that’s not the constellation Aires?”

“No. I’ll have to start on that tomorrow.” With a deep inhale, Echo pulls out a chair from the table and rests the painting on the arms and leans it against the back so it will stay upright.

Air rushes out of my body, and I sink onto our bed. It’s the same damned shock as when she drew my parents this past spring. There’s awe and joy and this ache that hits deep in my gut. I bend forward and rest my joint hands on my knees and stare at the sight in front of me.

Fuck me, my eyes burn. I shut them, attempting to get my shit together. It’s a painting. Only a painting. I reopen them, and it’s the same disorientation as a right hook to the head. It’s more than a painting, and that’s the reason my throat swells.

Last night meant as much to me as it did to her and she painted it, capturing it in a way unique to Echo. She’s right, it’s not done. It’s a skeleton compared to her other work, but I see enough to know what she desires, what she plans to design. Up close all those colors would look like chaos, but when viewed as a whole it creates this beautiful picture. In the end, that’s the best way to describe me and Echo, our relationship. Our love.

The bed dips as Echo eases onto it, settles behind me and props her chin on my shoulder. Her signature scent that reminds me of walking into a bakery becomes an invisible blanket surrounding me. “What do you think?”

“It’s us,” I whisper, and knots form in my stomach. Echo always finds a way to blow my mind. She tenses behind me and I continue, “It’s where we spent last night.”

“It is.” Echo relaxes, and her fingers curl around my biceps. “Do you like it?”

Struggling for composure, I place my hand over hers and pause. “It’s…”

I’m not Echo. I don’t have words for what happens inside me. If I did, I’d fail at describing this. I shift to rest my forehead against hers. “I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s my statement,” she says so only I can hear. “I wish we were alone again.”

I press my lips to hers, slide my hand through her hair and watch as the curls bounce back into place. “Me, too.”

 

About Katie McGarry: 

 Katie McGarry was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan. Katie is the author of full length YA novels, PUSHING THE LIMITS, DARE YOU TO, CRASH INTO YOU, TAKE ME ON, BREAKING THE RULES, and NOWHERE BUT HERE and the e-novellas, CROSSING THE LINE and RED AT NIGHT. Her debut YA novel, PUSHING THE LIMITS was a 2012 Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction, a RT Magazine's 2012 Reviewer's Choice Awards Nominee for Young Adult Contemporary Novel, a double Rita Finalist, and a 2013 YALSA Top Ten Teen Pick. DARE YOU TO was also a Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction and won RT Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award for Young Adult Contemporary fiction in 2013.

 

Website | Twitter @KatieMcGarry | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Tumbler | Instagram

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Girl In Between by Leakan Kemp (Excerpt)

FREE AT  

Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / Smashwords / GooglePlay

Author's 

Website / Twitter / Goodreads

Book summary:

Bryn Reyes is a real life sleeping beauty. Afflicted with Klein-Levin Syndrome, she suffers episodes of prolonged sleep that steal weeks, and sometimes even months, from her life. But unlike most KLS patients, she doesn’t spend each episode in a catatonic state or wake up with no recollection of the time she’s missed. Instead, Bryn spends half her life in an alternate reality made up of her memories. For Bryn, the past is a place, until one day a boy she’s never met before washes up on the illusory beach of her dreams with no memory of who he is.
But the appearance of this strange boy isn’t the only thing that’s changed. Bryn’s symptoms are worsening, her body weakening as she’s plagued by hallucinations even while awake. Her only hope of finding a cure is to undergo experimental treatment created by a German specialist. But when Dr. Banz reveals that he knows more about her strange symptoms than he originally let on, Bryn learns that the boy in her head might actually be the key to understanding what’s happening to her, and worse, that if she doesn’t find out his identity before it’s too late, they both may not survive.

Excerpt

“Can I show you something?” she asked.I wasn’t sure if I should follow her or even if I could but I didn’t want her to let go of me. I didn’t want her to disappear again and leave me there alone, still lost. So I nodded.We swam to the end of the dock and she untied the small rowboat. She climbed in first, reaching for the oars and holding it steady as I sat down across from her. I watched the house recede. My eyes trailed back to the road, still waiting for someone to come down it. They didn’t.“Where are we going?” I asked.“Not far.”I searched the horizon but it was empty. No land. No boats. It felt like we were headed straight for the skyline, about to fall off into nothing. The waves grew choppy and I wanted to take the oars from her but I didn’t know where we were going and for some reason I liked listening to the slow rhythm of her breathing as she fought the waves.The boat finally grinded to a stop and when I looked over the edge the water was so clear I could see tiny creatures bedding in the sand, their thin shadows eclipsed by the girl as she climbed onto the sandbar.“I went to the Bahamas once when I was thirteen,” she said. “The water was so blue. I strapped on a snorkel and spent the entire week just walking from sandbar to sandbar, face underwater watching the fish swim by.”I followed her out of the boat and a school of bright yellow fish cut between us, scales glinting.“This?” I said.She smiled and walked around to the other side of the boat. The water was a dark grey, my legs tangled in a mess of rust colored seaweed. I could barely see my feet, their shadows disappearing beneath swirls of mud.“This is the Gulf of Mexico near Galveston. I tagged along on one of my mom’s work trips. It was just a few weeks after Hurricane Ike.”I stared at the muddled outline where the two oceans converged—one light, one dark. I waited for them to mix, for that invisible seam to break free but it didn’t.We waded farther out into the clear water, another school of fish bumping against my calf, bright red coral twisting near my ankles. It was startling.“I used to come here,” she said. “When I first got sick I would stand here and it wouldn’t feel like purgatory anymore. They’re memories.” She faced the beach. “My memories.” Then she looked at me. “I don’t know why you’re here or if you’re—”“Real?” I asked.She nodded and I wasn’t so sure anymore either.“But you don’t have to be afraid,” she said. “It doesn’t have to feel like purgatory.”I watched the sunlight reflecting off the ocean and dancing against her skin. Her eyes were lighter in the sun; green churning to a soft sea foam like the waves crashing near our feet. And standing there in that invisible seam between two oceans, two worlds, she was just as startling.The tide swirled in her gaze and I watched it shimmer there, glinting from a soft grey to jade and then I said, “It doesn’t.”

Until the next time,

Dragonriders Unite Promo

Welcome to the DRAGONRIDERS UNITE promo for

Fledgling (The Dragonrider Chronicles #1)
by Nicole Conway

presented by Month9Books!

Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post.

Can one boy stand between two kingdoms at war?

Jaevid Broadfeather has grown up as a wartime refugee, hiding from the world because of his mixed racial heritage. He feels his future is hopeless, until a chance encounter with a wild dragon lands him in Blybrig Academy—a place usually forbidden to anyone but the rich and royal. But Jaevid’s case is special; no dragon has voluntarily chosen a rider in decades, so the proud riders of Blybrig must begrudgingly let him join their brotherhood despite his bloodline. Lieutenant Sile Derrick, a sternly tempered man with a mysterious past, becomes his instructor and immediately takes a peculiar interest in Jaevid’s future.

While struggling through the rigorous physical demands of training, things begin to go awry. Jaevid witnesses the king’s private guards kidnapping Sile in the dead of night. When none of the elder riders are willing to help him, Jaevid begins a dangerous adventure to save his instructor.

Everything Jaevid learned at the academy will now be put to the ultimate test.

Fledgling (The Dragonrider Chronicles #1) by Nicole Conway
Publication Date: April 29, 2014
Publisher: Month9Books

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Chapters Indigo!

One
I had never seen my father before my twelfth birthday. Not even once. Up until then, my mother had raised me all by herself in the royal city of Halfax. We lived like all the other gray elves in Maldobar—separated from the rest of society in the heavily guarded wartime ghettos. We had to follow a strict set of rules about where we could go, what we could do, when we got food, and what we could own. If you broke any of the rules, it was an immediate sentence to the prison camps, which I always heard was a fate worse than death. We were supposed to be grateful. After all, we were war refugees. Maldobar didn’t have to take us in, much less provide us somewhere to live. This was their act of charity towards us.
Our house was not much more than a tiny shack made of old recycled wood, and it only had one room. You’d expect a place like that to smell terrible, but my mother was a genius when it came to making anywhere feel like home. She could grow absolutely anything, and that was how she made our living. She grew vegetables, flowers, tiny fruit trees, and strange vines that climbed all over the walls and windows. It made the inside of our house feel like a jungle, and it smelled earthy like fresh soil and the fragrance of flowers. We couldn’t legally sell anything she grew since gray elves weren’t allowed to have any money, but we could still trade. So early in the mornings, my mother packed a sack full of peppers, fruit, vegetables, and anything else ready for harvest, and sent me out to the shops to trade for things we needed.
It was a lot harder than it sounds. Not the trading itself, that part was easy, but I had to be very sneaky about it. I was always on the watch for guards, or humans. Gray elf children were rare, even in the ghettos. Any elf living in the kingdom of Maldobar as a refugee was absolutely not allowed to have children. It was forbidden. Having children was a great way to get thrown into a prison camp, or worse. But I didn’t just have to worry about that. It was bad enough to be a gray elf kid, hiding until you were old enough to be overlooked. But I was a halfbreed. My father was a human from Maldobar. So instead of looking at me with anger, everyone looked at me like I was a cockroach. The humans didn’t like me touching their stuff because I was mixed with the filthy, wild blood of a gray elf. If they hadn’t liked my mother’s produce so much, they probably would have turned me in to the guards. The gray elves didn’t like me, either. But there was a very strict code amongst them: you didn’t betray your own kind no matter what. So they ignored me rather than ratting me out to the city guards.
I really didn’t fit anywhere, except with my mother. She loved me unconditionally. She was the most beautiful person in the world. Her hair was long and silvery white, and her eyes were like stars. All gray elves had eyes like that. When she smiled at me, her eyes would shine like gemstones in the light, as white and pale as diamonds with faint flecks of blue, yellow, and green in them.
When she died, I had just turned twelve. I got the feeling right away that no one really knew what to do with me. I didn’t fit into anyone’s plans. If I were a pure blooded elf, they would have taken me straight to a prison camp. If I were a human, someone would have adopted me. I wasn’t either, and yet I was both at the same time. I think the guards were just baffled that my mother had done such a good job of hiding me for so long, or that she’d somehow managed to have an affair with a human man.
Ulric Broadfeather was the only one who would take me in, and I’m pretty sure he only did it because my mother had left a letter behind naming him as my biological father. If it weren’t for the public shame of disowning a child, he probably would have just let me go to a prison camp anyway.
From the very beginning, my father was the most frightening man I had ever known. He was hugely tall, like a knight, and stronger than anyone else I had ever seen. Once, I saw him pick up and pull family wagon while it was loaded with bags of grain all by himself. He could have crushed my neck with one hand if he wanted to. His hair was jet-black like mine, except it was cut short. My mom always insisted I wear my hair long, like gray elves traditionally did. I also had his cold blue eyes that were the same color as glacier water. There definitely wasn’t any doubt he was my father. I looked too much like him for anyone to deny it.
I wish I could say that he welcomed me with open arms into his home; eager to make up for lost time he hadn’t gotten to spend with me. But he already had a family, living on the outskirts of a small city called Mithangol, and he wasn’t interested in adding me to it. I was an unwanted guest right away.
He had a human wife named Serah who made it perfectly clear she didn’t want me in her house at all. Serah absolutely hated me. She glared whenever she looked at me, accused me of being responsible for anything that went wrong, and refused to let me sleep in her house because I gave her a “bad feeling.” So I slept on a cot in the loftroom of Ulric’s workshop, instead. As bad as it sounds, I actually preferred it. It was quiet there, and even though it was cold in the winter, I liked the smell of the old hay and the leather that was stored up there.
Ulric also had another son, Roland, who was four years older than me. Roland chose to ignore my existence completely. I got the feeling that he was in survival mode, trying to be as aloof and uninvolved with the family as he possibly could until he was old enough to move out. I couldn’t really blame him for that. Like me, he favored our father. He was really tall, muscular, and had the same ice-blue eyes that looked like they belonged to a powerful bird of prey. I was a little afraid of him, even though he never said more than two words to me at a time. I could sense a lot of anger coming from him, and I was always paranoid I’d be standing too close when he finally snapped.
Ulric had two more children, a pair of twin daughters named Emry and Lin. They were six years younger than me, but they were meaner than a pair of hungry jackals. Every day, they tried to get me in as much trouble as possible. Of course, Serah believed every word they said. They would break things, let the chickens and goats out, or steal jewelry from their mother’s room, and blame it all on me. Once, Emry got ahold of the sewing scissors and chopped up Lin’s hair. When Serah found out, Emry blamed it all on me and told her I had done it. Serah believed it, and I got a beating from Ulric as soon as he came in the house. Inventing new ways to get me into trouble was their favorite pastime, and there was nothing I could do about it. They were sneaky and smart, a lot smarter than me I guess, because they never got caught.
The only good thing about living with my father was watching him work. Ulric was a tackmaster—he made saddles for the dragonriders from Blybrig Academy. But he didn’t just make saddles; he made the very best saddles in Maldobar. I watched him through the slats and gaps in the floor of the loftroom, shaping leather and stitching intricate pieces together. He did it all by hand, and it took him several weeks to craft one saddle. But when it was finished, each one was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. It made me envy him, even if he probably wished I had never been born.
That’s why I almost keeled over when Ulric growled my name, calling me down from my room into his shop. He’d been working for two weeks solid on a new saddle, one more beautiful than ever, and it was finally finished.
“Wrap it up,” he barked at me in his gruff, gravely tone, and threw a few old quilts at me.
I was stunned. Ulric had never asked me to do anything before, especially nothing to do with his work. This was my chance, I thought. If I could be useful, maybe he wouldn’t hate me so much. He might even teach me to make saddles someday.
Ulric left me alone in his shop, and I walked over to the saddle that was set up on one of the big sawhorses. I ran my fingers over the freshly oiled leather. It was as red as blood, engraved with intricate designs and images of mountains and vines. All the buckles were made of silver-plated iron. I couldn’t even imagine what it would look like when the dragon it had been made for would finally put it on. A powerful beast, bound for the skies with a snarl and a flash of fire. It made my skin prickle, and every hair stand on end.
I was small for my age. I’d always been small, unfortunately. Ulric’s stature apparently hadn’t been passed on to me. To make matters worse, I was so skinny that I pretty much looked like a scarecrow. Emry and Lin like to call me “stick boy” because they knew it bothered me. If I were as big as Roland, no one would have tried to push me around.
It took all my strength to wrap the saddle up in the quilts so it wouldn’t get scratched or damaged, and then lug it outside. The weight of it made my arms and lungs ache. I could feel myself wobble dangerously if I leaned too far in any direction. I didn’t want to imagine what Ulric would do to me if I dropped this saddle.
The knights who rode on dragons just about never came to pick up their saddles personally. Most of them came from rich, powerful noble families, and had plenty of servants to do those kinds of errands for them. So when I saw Ulric standing outside talking to a man in formal battle armor with a sweeping cape of royal blue brushing at his heels, I stopped dead in my tracks. The saddle weighed more than I did, and I almost dropped it in surprise.
It was a muggy, overcast day. The clouds were so low and thick you couldn’t see the mountains that hunched over our small city. Even so, the knight’s armor still managed to gleam like liquid silver. He had his helmet under one arm, the white-feathered crest on it tipped in black, and the king’s eagle engraved upon his breastplate.
They both turned to look at me as I stood there, my arms shaking under the weight of the saddle, staring at the dragonrider. Ulric scowled darkly, and stomped over to take it from me. He slung it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing at all, growling curses under his breath at me as he went to tie it down to the knight’s horse.
The knight, however, was still staring right at me. He gave me a strange look, narrowing his eyes some and tilting his head to the side slightly like he was sizing me up. It made me blush from head to toe, the tips of my pointed ears burning like torches under my long hair. This was a warrior who had probably fought against gray elves for years, and I knew what I looked like.
He curled a finger at me, calling me toward him. It made me cringe as I obeyed. I hedged toward him, my shoulders hunched up because I half-expected him to hit me just out of pure resentment for what I was. But he didn’t.
When I got close enough, he grabbed my chin in one of his gloved hands, cranking my head around so I had to look up at him. I was shaking all over, wondering if this was it for me. Maybe he’d crush my head like a grape in his hand. Or maybe he’d throttle me to death. Either way, I was pretty sure Ulric wouldn’t go out of his way to save me. He might have even thanked the knight afterwards for saving him the trouble.
“What’s your name, boy?” The knight asked me. His voice was deep, but not angry or resentful. He was turning my head this way and that, pulling back my hair to see my pointed ears, and looking me over like he was inspecting livestock.
“J-Jaevid.” I told him through clattering teeth.
He frowned, looking back into my eyes before he finally let me go. His own eyes seemed dead to me. Dead—like someone who had seen many years in battle and knew what it meant to kill without mercy. “How old are you?” he asked again.
“Fifteen, sir.” I took a few steps back away from him. If he came after me suddenly, at least I had some hope of outrunning him. I was small, but I was fast.
Ulric was finished tying the saddle down, and came over with a growl meant to shoo me away. I took the hint and retreated back into the workshop, up to my loftroom where I had a wooden cot piled with old, holey quilts. I went to the small window along the far wall. It was a good place peek at them through the cracks in the boards that had been nailed over it. I could hear them talking, and it made my heart jump into my throat.
“You didn’t tell me you had a halfbreed son,” the knight chuckled, like it was a bad joke. “Looks just like a half-starved, miniature version of you, except for the ears.”
Ulric just shook his head and kept growling rumbling words, glaring at the ground. “Serah wants him gone.” I heard him say.
“Can’t blame her for that.” The knight seemed to sympathize. “You thinking of taking him on as an apprentice?”
Ulric just snorted like it was a ridiculous idea.
“Ah, my mistake then. I figured since your older boy had chosen to join the infantry you’d pass your skill set onto someone else in your family. I doubt your girls would be interested.” The knight rambled on, beginning to stroll back to where his horse was waiting. The new saddle was bundled up and ready for transport. “A shame he’s such a small, sickly-looking thing.”
That stung me. Yes, I was small for my age. But I hadn’t thought I looked sickly. It made me angry at myself, and at my inability to grow even a few inches taller. What a difference even two inches and a few pounds of muscle would have made.
“Where’s his dragon?” A whispering voice suddenly asked from right beside me.
It scared me out of my wits, making me scramble away in surprise. I hadn’t heard anyone approach, and was half afraid it was one of my sisters. But it wasn’t.
Katalina Crookin was probably the only friend I had in the world. Her father was a very good blacksmith who worked with Ulric sometimes, helping him craft unique pieces that required a more skilled metalworker. They only lived about a mile away, so Katty and I had found each other inevitably. She was small and skinny, like I was, with a head full of wild gold curls. She had big dark blue eyes, and just about every inch of her face was covered in freckles. The other kids in town teased her and called her ugly. I knew it must have hurt her feelings, but she never let it show. And when the other kids would come after me, trying to cut my hair or throw rocks at me, she was always there to defend me . . . and no one could throw a rock harder or more accurately than Katty. She had blacksmith’s hands.
I shook my head at her, moving back to the window to peek outside again. The knight was getting on his horse already, dropping a purse of coins into Ulric’s hand before he rode out of sight.
“I don’t know. I don’t think he brought it,” I whispered back. Neither of us had ever seen a dragon before.
Katty puffed a sigh of disappointment while shaking her head. It made her gold curls swish back and forth. “I saw him coming up the road. I knew he had to be a dragonrider. Normal soldiers don’t wear armor like that,” she told me. “Can you come over today?”
I didn’t know. Normally, I could’ve easily slipped away to visit the Crookins without Ulric or Serah even noticing I was gone because usually, they didn’t care where I was. But Ulric had actually asked me to do something for him today. Not to mention, he and the knight had been discussing my future—or lack thereof. I wasn’t so sure I could get away with leaving without getting caught.
Katty was watching me waffle between my desire to go to her house, and the inevitable beating I would get if Ulric ever caught me over there. She smiled. “Momma’s making sweetbread,” she baited me. “With wild honey.”
That decided it for me. I grinned back at her, nodding because we both knew what goodies were sure to go along with sweetbread. Thoughts of whipped butter with cinnamon and sugar, and warm milk with a hint of honey, were already swimming happily through my brain as we climbed down from my loftroom. We darted out the back of Ulric’s shop before anyone noticed, and took the narrow footpath we’d made ourselves through the prickly briars. It was our secret path, so no one would see us.
The Crookin’s house was not as big as ours, but it felt more like a home instead of the prison I lived in. Smoke came out of the chimney in the house, and out of the stack for the bellows in Mr. Crookin’s forge. Mr. Crookin didn’t really like me. That’s not to say he hated me as much as Serah did, but he didn’t like me coming around his house too often. He hadn’t minded it so much when I was younger, but now that I was fifteen, I could tell he was on the verge of telling me not to come back anymore. He didn’t talk much, and he had a face that was mostly hidden behind a thick, wiry beard. He wore his long black smithing apron every day, and his face and arms were almost always smeared with soot.
Mrs. Crookin, on the other hand, was one of the few people who didn’t make me feel unwanted. She smiled at me when we came inside, wiping her hands on her apron before she pulled me in immediately to kiss my forehead and ruffle my hair. She always hugged me until I couldn’t breathe, and asked me if I was getting enough to eat.
“What a good boy,” she said, patting my cheeks until it stung a little. “But still so skinny. Doesn’t Serah feed you at all? Sit down, Jae. I’m making your favorite.”
Katty plopped down in a chair across from me at their kitchen table, grinning as she slid a plate and spoon in my direction. “There was a dragonrider at his house today, momma.” Her eyes were still sparkling with excitement about it.
“Yeah, but he didn’t bring his dragon.” I added, sighing and twirling the spoon through my fingers. Mrs. Crookin brought over a platter of steaming hot sweetbread, fresh out of the oven. The smell made me dizzy with hunger, and it was hard to sit and wait while she put out jams, that delicious cinnamon butter, and mugs of warm milk for us on the table. “Not surprising, is it dear? It’s nearly springtime.” I knew what she meant. Every spring, Ulric packed up his tools and materials onto a wagon, and left for Blybrig Academy. The new riders started their training just as the weather was getting hot, and Ulric had to take molds and build brand new saddles for them. It was when he made most of his money, but it also meant that he’d be gone for a while. He was always completely exhausted when he came back. In a month, the snows would melt in the Stonegap Pass, and Ulric would start packing his tools again. If any other knights wanted a saddle from him, they’d have to get it before he left or wait until after spring. “I wish papa would let me go with him,” Katty whined while she was smearing a spoonful of jam onto a large piece of bread. “It’s not fair. Other apprentices get to go.”
“Soon, dear.” Mrs. Crookin smiled fondly at her daughter. They had the same gold colored hair, but Mrs. Crookin’s was flecked with silver. She was a much older woman than my stepmother.
Katty was eager to go to Blybrig, not that I could blame her. She wanted to see dragons just like I did. Her father had been teaching her his craft for a long time, and she was already strong enough to do most of the little tedious jobs for him, even if she was small and fragile looking. Mr. Crookin went to Blybrig for spring training, just like Ulric. But he went to make armor, not saddles.
“You’ll have to tell me what they look like,” I told her. I wasn’t able to keep myself from sounding sad about it. When she starting working with her father full time, I wasn’t sure where that would leave me. I’d be on the brink of adulthood with no idea where I should go, or what I should do. I wouldn’t have a skill to sell, or even a place to live.
Katty smiled at me hopefully from across the table, leaning forward and grabbing my hand at the wrist. “You’ll see them, too, Jae. Maybe papa would let you be his apprentice with me.”
Mrs. Crookin smiled at us, but I could still see it in her eyes; she didn’t think her husband would ever allow that. They were all right with me coming to visit, and with me being friends with their daughter, but they had to draw the line somewhere. I was still a halfbreed.
I didn’t let Katty see how that hurt me. It wasn’t their fault, really. And it wasn’t my place to try to weasel my way into their family business like that. “Nah.” I shrugged and gave her as confident a grin as I could muster. “I’m going to the coast. I want to work on one of the ships going out of the harbor. I’ll get to see the ocean, and eat fish every night.”
Katty looked deflated. I guess she’d wanted us to work together. Or, she’d at least hoped I would want the same thing as her. “You’ll smell like a fish, after all that,” she grumbled, wrinkling her nose.
We ate until there were only a few scraps of the bread left, and Mrs. Crookin wrapped those up for me to take with me. It was dark outside when I started for home. Katty always walked with me as far as the property line, and she had a blanket wrapped around her so that only her face and some of her curls peeked out.
“Jae,” she started. I could tell by the tone of her voice she was about to ask me something serious. “Do you really want to go to the coast?”
I’ve never been a very good liar. When it came to Katty, well, she could smell deception on me like a hound. I couldn’t lie to her if I wanted to. I quirked my mouth while I thought about the ocean, about ships, and about eating fish.
“Not really,” I confessed.
“We’d never see each other if you left,” she reached a hand out from under her blanket to grasp mine, squeezing my fingers. “After papa retires and I take over the business, I’ll make you an apprentice myself. Then we can work together and no one will be able to say anything about it.”
I tried to smile for her. I tried to show her some optimism. But we’d be in our twenties before her father let her take on any authority in his smithing business, and even then, I wasn’t sure blacksmithing was my calling. It required physical strength, which I clearly didn’t have.
“Thanks, Katty.” I squeezed her hand back.
We talked about dragons and knights all the way to the property line. Then I gave her a hug, and she kissed my cheek like her mom did, and we parted ways. I walked a few feet into the dark before I stopped and looked back, watching her disappear into the gloom and thorny shrubs. She was the best friend I had—my only friend really, and sooner or later, she’d have to leave me behind. She’d outgrow me. She’d get tired of having to stick up for me all the time.
With the bundle of leftover bread still under my arm, I walked back to my room in the loft. Ulric’s shop was quiet and dark, like it always was once he’d finished for the day. He was probably already inside, having dinner with his real family, and talking about how soon he could get rid of me. Roland was probably just sitting there at the table, glaring down into his plate without a word. The twins were probably throwing food at each other like savages. I didn’t expect any of them to even notice I was gone.
But I was wrong.

Nicole is the author of the children’s fantasy series, THE DRAGONRIDER CHRONICLES, about a young boy’s journey into manhood as he trains to become a dragonrider. She has completed the first two books in the series, and is now working on the third and final book.

Originally from a small town in North Alabama, Nicole moves frequently due to her husband’s career as a pilot for the United States Air Force. She received a B.A. in English with a concentration in Classics from Auburn University, and will soon attend graduate school.

She has previously worked as a freelance and graphic artist for promotional companies, but has now embraced writing as a full-time occupation.

Nicole enjoys hiking, camping, shopping, cooking, and spending time with her family and friends. She also loves watching children’s movies and collecting books. She lives at home with her husband, two cats, and dog.

Author Links: Website | Twitter | Facebook

Complete the Rafflecopter for your chance to win!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

COMING SOON!

What kind of power is lurking inside him?

After a year of training to become a dragonrider, Jaevid Broadfeather has been sent home to rest during a three-month interlude. But when he returns to find the king drake has chosen Beckah Derrick as his new rider, Jaevid realizes something big is about to happen. Every fiber of his being is pushed to the breaking point as Jaevid battles through his avian year, preparing for the final graduation test of the battle scenario. But there is more standing in his way than a few pushups and fancy sword moves.

Jaevid must face a new fear as he is tormented by a gruesome nightmare of a mysterious gray elf warrior murdering the royal family of Maldobar. It seems obvious to him that this is some kind of message about how the war started long ago—until Felix assures him the king is very much alive. With his strange powers growing stronger by the day, and that violent dream replaying in his mind every night, Jaevid no longer wonders if he will pass his avian year or not . . . he wonders if he will even survive it.

The truth will soon be set loose.