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Thursday, January 31, 2019

Blog Tour- LOOKING FOR DEI by David A. Willson With An Interview & Giveaway!



I am happy to be hosting a stop on the blog tour for LOOKING FOR DEI by David A. Willson! I have an interview with David to share with you today check it out and enter to win the giveaway below!

About The Book:



Title: LOOKING FOR DEI
Author: David A. Willson
Pub. Date: March 22, 2018
Publisher: Seeker Press
Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook, audiobook
Pages: 346
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonAudibleB&NTBD

Read For Free With Kindle Unlimited!

Fifteen-year-old Nara Dall has never liked secrets. Yet it seems that her life has been filled with them, from the ugly scar on her back to the strange powers she possesses. Her mysterious father refuses to say anything about her origins, and soon, she and her best friend must attend the announcement ceremony, in which youths are tested for a magical gift.


A gifted youth has not been announced in the poor village of Dimmitt for decades. When Nara uncovers the reason, she uses her own powers to make things right. The decision sets her on a path of danger, discovery, and a search for the divine. In the process, she learns the truth about herself and uncovers the biggest secret of all: the power of broken people.



Now on to the interview!

Hey David!! First I want to say welcome to Two Chicks on Books I’m glad you could stop by for a chat! LOOKING FOR DEI rocks and I can’t wait for everyone to read it!

For the readers: can you tell us a little bit about LOOKING FOR DEI and the characters?

Looking for Dei is a young adult fantasy novel, but it’s a very different sort of read.  First, it’s set in a world with a rich religious history, has thorough world-building, and a unique magic system in the spirit of an epic fantasy novel.  Second, the story is told from the perspectives of multiple characters, including the antagonists, providing for a more comprehensive storytelling experience.  That’s a lot to ask of some of the younger readers, but since so many YA fans stick with the genre far into adulthood, I think it offers the reader something special.

The characters are very different from one another, and easy to differentiate.  I often find that when I read a book, I get a bit confused between characters that are similar in appearance, profession, or personality, and that lack of distinction can be difficult for me.  I therefore took special pains to make very different characters, in both age, appearance, personality and roles for this story.

The main character is Nara.  She’s fifteen, she’s adventurous, passionate, a bit na├»ve, and somewhat rash.  It’s her boldness that gets her into trouble, but also makes her interesting.

Nara’s best friend is Mykel, a sixteen-year-old boy who absolutely adores her, but struggles with family issues.  Together, they form the hero-pair through which the adventure reveals itself.

Other characters include Nara’s fascinating adoptive father, Bylo, a kind-but-crazy old woman, a conflicted bodyguard, and some not-very-nice villain-type folks that cause all sort of problems.

So what’s next for you? What are you working on now?

I’m currently working on a sequel to Looking for Dei, which continues Nara’s adventures in the Great Land.  I hope to release it sometime in 2020.

Were any of the characters in the book inspired by people from your real life?

Actually, yes.  Nara shares many traits with my younger sister, Laura, including her kind heart, love of people, and unfortunately, her chronic headaches.

Who was your favorite character to write? What about your least favorite?

My favorite character was Bylo, by far.  Bylo is a scholar, a quiet old man who gets swept up in an adventure beyond his control when he would much rather have been hiding in a warm library, reading a book, or practicing illustration.  It was fun to imagine him so far outside his comfort zone, frustrated with circumstances beyond his control, and yet contributing is so many important ways.  An unsung hero, for sure.

What would we do?  I suppose, if he trusted me enough, I would have him tell me about his illustrations and his ancient manuscript.  I’d let him prattle on about runes and secret magic, and he would probably chat endlessly about how delighted he is to have Nara in his life. She was something he never expected, for sure.

What is your favorite passage/scene in LOOKING FOR DEI?

My favorite scenes are the dialogues between Nara and Bylo, as she learns about herself and her history.  These father-daughter scenes are somewhat tender, and as a father of two daughters myself, it was easy to imagine the profound love that Bylo feels for Nara during these interchanges. 

What kind of research did you have to do for the story?

I researched geography, but since it is loosely based on that of Alaska, where I live, that part wasn’t so hard.  I researched hand-to-hand combat, painting techniques, horses, coral and how to make armor.  There was more research and I was dancing around the web, guided by Google almost every day to learn about something new, much of which didn’t make it into the novel.  Writing is such a journey!

What inspired you to write YA?

While Looking for Dei is an exciting sword and sorcery tale, it has at its core some very important themes.  The value of human life is one such theme that I hope to impress upon my readers and rests at the core of Looking for Dei’s magic system.  Another is the fact that it’s never too late to make the right choice.  No matter what errors we’ve made in life, we can always choose a better path and this message of redemption is an important one.  Lastly, I wanted to show my readers that even the antagonists in our society were once little babes, full of potential.  When things go horribly wrong, these children can grow up in pain, and often spread that pain around. But it didn’t have to be this way, and child abuse affects more than the child; it affects us all.  I wanted to tell that story as well.

Young adults are the hope of our society, and I believe that they are listening.  They are thinking.  They want to do the right thing, they are asking the questions that will form the basis of their worldview, and their decisions will dictate the future of our nations.  It’s an exciting, scary, emotional time, with passion a-plenty and the opportunity for great success if the right decisions are made.  Owing to this dynamic, there is no more fertile ground for positive themes than the minds of YA readers and that is why I chose to write this story for them.

Lightning Round Questions

What are you reading right now? Or what do you have on your TBR that you’re dying to read?

Dragon’s Trail by Joseph Malik.  It’s a portal fantasy technothriller, fast-paced, and lots of fun.  The amount of research and real-world knowledge that Malik invested in this novel is nothing less than extraordinary.

What Hogwarts House would the Sorting Hat place you in?

No clue, but hopefully not Slytherin.  I was never one of the cool kids, and all the cool kids were in Slytherin or Gryffindor.  That being said, and with me being somewhat nerdy, I’d probably fit in well with Ravenclaw.

Twitter or Facebook?

A wee bit of both, but mostly Facebook.  We have a family page, and use it to communicate with our kids.  Twitter is a great place to interact with other authors, and see what kind of cool books are hitting the shelves.

Favorite Superhero?

Batman.  Passion and pain all rolled up into one dysfunctional man who didn’t even have any superpowers.  Beautiful character.

Favorite TV show?

West Wing.  Loved the camera work, the fast-paced dialogue, and the way all of the characters were really trying to do the right thing.  They often had great intentions and managed difficult situations, so watching the show felt like real life.

Sweet or Salty?

Both!  Sea-salt dark chocolate for the win!

Any Phobias?

Being late.  To anything.  So skeered.  Gotta be early.

Song you can’t get enough of right now?

New remix of “Sound of Silence” from Disturbed. OMG, the power of that tune!

2019 Movie you’re most looking forward to?

Captain Marvel.  Toughest superpowered woman ever, and I can’t wait to see what they do with her.  Plus Brie Larson is one of my favorite actresses.  Loved her in “Short Term 12.”


Thanks so much David for answering my questions! I can’t wait for everyone to read LOOKING FOR DEI!





About Davd:


David A. Willson has worked as a restauranteur, peace officer, and now, author. Taught by his mother to read at a young age, he spent his childhood exploring magic, spaceships, and other dimensions. In his writing, he strives to bring those worlds to his readers.

Much of his material is inspired by the "Great Land" of Alaska, which he has called home for over 30 years. He lives there with his wife, five children, and 2 dogs. He is passionate about technology, faith, and fiction--not necessarily in that order.

Looking for Dei is Willson's debut novel, set in a land where many more adventures will take place. Stay up to date with his ongoing efforts through the Looking for Dei Facebook page or visiting the website at davidawillson.com.



Giveaway Details:
One lucky winner will receive a one hoodie and one mug from the Looking for Dei Facebook shop., US Only.





Tour Schedule:
Week One:
1/28/2019- Mythical BooksExcerpt
1/29/2019- BookHounds YAInterview
1/30/2019- The Reading Corner for AllReview
1/31/2019- Two Chicks on BooksInterview
2/1/2019- Smada's Book SmackSpotlight

Week Two:
2/4/2019- Daily WaffleSpotlight
2/5/2019- Miss ElizabethReview
2/6/2019- Kelly P's BlogExcerpt
2/7/2019- Character Madness and MusingsInterview
2/8/2019- Writer of WrongsReview

Week Three:
2/11/2019- Lisa Loves LiteratureSpotlight
2/12/2019-Adventures Thru WonderlandReview
2/13/2019- A Bookish DreamReview
2/14/2019- Viviana MacKadeInterview
2/15/2019- A Dream Within A DreamExcerpt

Week Four:
2/18/2019- Finding Magic In BooksReview
2/19/2019- HauntedbybooksReview
2/20/2019- Christine's Book CornerSpotlight
2/21/2019- Stormy Vixen's Book ReviewsExcerpt
2/22/2019- Oh Hey! Books.- Interview

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Release Week Blitz- DREAM KEEPER by Amber R. Duell With An Excerpt & Giveaway




I am so excited that DREAM KEEPER by Amber R. Duell is available now and that I get to share the news!
If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Amber R. Duell, be sure to check out all the details below.
This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon Gift Card, International, courtesy of The Parliament House and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.

About the Book:
Title: DREAM KEEPER
Author: Amber R. Duell
Pub. Date: January 29, 2019
Publisher: The Parliament House
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 288
Find it: GoodreadsAmazon, B&N, Kobo

The Sandman is seventeen-year-old Nora’s closest friend and best-kept secret. He has to be, if she doesn’t want a one-way ticket back to the psychiatrist. It took her too long to learn not to mention the hooded figure in her dreams to her mother, who still watches Nora as if she’ll crack. So when Nora’s friends start mysteriously dying gruesome deaths in their sleep, she isn’t altogether surprised when the police direct their suspicion at her. The Sandman is the only one she can turn to for answers. But the truth might be more than she bargained for…

For the last five years, the Sandman has spent every night protecting Nora. When he hid the secret to the Nightmare Lord’s escape inside her dreams, he never expected to fall in love with her. Neither did he think his nemesis would find her so quickly, but there’s no mistaking his cruel handiwork. The Nightmare Lord is tired of playing by the rules and will do anything to release his deadly nightmares into the world, even if that means tormenting Nora until she breaks.

When the Nightmare Lord kidnaps Nora’s sister, Nora must enter enemy territory to save her. The Sandman is determined to help, but if Nora isn’t careful, she could lose even more than her family to the darkness.


Book Trailer:

Excerpt:
2
NORA
Shadows danced in the soft warmth of the white mini-lights strung around my bedroom. I hopped around my bed, fumbling with the buckle on my sandals, and tossed my purse in the corner. Something hard—probably my phone—thwacked against the light blue wall.
“Whoops,” I muttered, then growled at the metal hook locking my footwear in place. There were places to go, people to see. Or, rather, one person, and it was already hours past our usual meeting time. I jerked at the stiff strap. “Get off.”
Finally, it popped, and I kicked it triumphantly into the corner with my bag. The other came off without any trouble, and my stomach fluttered in anticipation. I tugged off my jean shorts and stepped into a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, leaving on the ribbed tank top I wore out tonight. Who cared that a glob of nacho cheese stained the front? The Sandman certainly wouldn’t.
Climbing beneath the cool sheets, I dragged in a long breath and released it slowly. A small grin played on my lips as I stared at the lights hanging overhead. Then I shut my eyes and waited. Waited for sleep to claim me. To deliver me. But my body was too tense, and my mind still flipped through the day’s events—as ridiculously boring as they were. When the highlight of your day was painting your nails a new color, what was there to mull over?
After a handful of long minutes, I opened my eyes again and bit my lip. I could ask. It had been… Actually, I couldn’t remember the last time I asked him for anything. Even this. But I had to be up early for work tomorrow and we’d already missed out on hours together. A grin crept across my face.
“Sandman,” I whispered, and closed my eyes again in preparation. “Help me sleep.”
It came swiftly then, sweeping me gently from my world to another as easily as the breeze carries a feather. I curled my toes, feeling the powder-like sand of the Sandman’s beach beneath my bare feet, and opened my eyes. The endless blanket of bright stars, the luminescent waves, the Sandman… This place, this dream, was like coming home.
“Sorry I’m late,” I called with a smile in my voice. The light aroma of lilacs filled my lungs and I sighed, content. “Natalie and Emery dragged me to a party to celebrate our final first day of summer vacation.” By this time next year, we would all be high school graduates and legal adults—neither of which I was ready to think about. I stretched my arms over my head and fought a yawn. “Sandman?” There was no reply. I dropped my arms and spun, searching for a glimpse of the familiar black-clad figure. This was our spot—the place directly below the brightest star. My brows lowered in confusion. So why wasn’t he here? He was always here. “Where are you?”
The only sound was the soft hush of waves lapping the shore. I turned again, squinting down the beach, but there was no hooded figure in sight. My heart skipped a beat. The dream seemed to yawn open, the emptiness pressing in on me from all sides. He had to be here somewhere. A pit formed in my stomach, and I staggered back, unsteady. He had to.
The beach was an addiction I didn’t know how to cure myself of—didn’t want to cure myself of. For every time I had to pretend this place didn’t exist, the Sandman was there to absolve me of the lies. There to make me feel like I was good and sane and normal. It didn’t matter that he was also the reason I didn’t feel any of those things were true when I was awake. The Sandman was my anchor, holding me firm when life tried to wash me out to sea. Without him… I swallowed hard. Without him, I would be a ship without sails.
“Sandman!” I jogged down the water’s edge, my pulse drumming in my ears. “I’m here.”
But he wasn’t.
    
THREE THIRTY-TWO.
The clock on my nightstand glowed green, the colon blinking in a slow, torturous rhythm. I tapped my fingers on my stomach. The Sandman had never been a no-show before. And if he wasn’t there, maybe that meant they were right, and he wasn’t real.
No.
I refused to believe that. My mother meant well, but I couldn’t face a lifetime of pill-pushing psychiatrists. One white-haired doctor tossing around words like personality disorder and delusional was enough. By the time the final doctor deemed the Sandman a simple outlet for me to process my parents’ divorce, the damage was done.
Don’t worry about it, he said. It will pass, he said.
That was five years ago.
The divorce was a distant memory. My father moved across the country and my mother remarried, but the Sandman became a permanent fixture. One I’d learned to never, ever talk about.
What’s going on? I pushed the thought toward the Sandman even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. There was only one call that reached from this side of the Dream World to his, only one cry capable of bringing him here, but it never stopped me from trying.
I flung the sheets back with a huff and grabbed an oversized Lund Valley Community College sweater from the end of my bed. Natalie hoped we would go there together next year but… I wrinkled my nose and glanced at the dresser drawer where my sketchbook was carefully tucked between scarves. If I went to college at all, it would be for art, but that was a big if. No one in my family knew I drew, and if my mother was going to let me major in something “impractical,” she would want to at least see my work. Unfortunately, each page featured a majestic beach and a man hidden beneath a hood. Both things I was supposed to have forgotten long ago.
Tugging the sweater over my head, I made my way through the dark hallway toward the stairs. My mother and step-father were both working the night shift at the hospital and my sister could sleep through anything, yet I found myself tip-toeing down the hall.
I paused outside Katie’s door and listened to the steady, heavy breathing on the other side. Part of me wanted to wake my sister up to talk about what happened, but the other part of me—the part that remembered the piercing fluorescent lights of a therapist’s office—knew better. Katie had teased me about the Sandman when we were younger, but she never treated me differently. However, now we were older. Barging into her room to complain that my imaginary friend hadn’t shown up that night might alienate the last blood relative I could rely on.
Although Katie annoyed me like no one else, I loved her more than I was irritated with her. I needed my big sister on my side—even if it meant hiding a huge part of my life. So, I stepped away from her door and crept silently downstairs to the kitchen.
Maybe because I was about to steal someone’s box of frozen Thin Mints.
Sorry, not sorry.
Mist curled out of the open freezer, and I reached behind the chicken before a shrill, heart-wrenching scream tore through the house, squeezing the air from my lungs. It was made of nails and teeth and death. Of danger and fear. My eardrums rattled. Each nerve stood at attention, electricity buzzing over my body.
“Katie?” I yelled, frantically abandoning my pursuit of the cookies.
Confusion laced the edges of my shaky voice, but I was already racing across the kitchen. Instinct twisted my gut, telling me to turn and run, to save myself, but I couldn’t. Not if my sister was in trouble. Not if someone had broken in when no one was home to help. Not if Katie was hurt and scared. I propelled myself up the stairs to the second floor, my skin itching me to go faster, faster, faster. Katie’s door was still shut at the front of the hallway. My breath shuddered, and I reached for the handle, pausing with apprehension. The metal was cold in my palm.
“Katie?” Her name came out as a crackling whisper and I forced myself to inhale. Then exhale. Inhale again. My hand shook as I twisted the knob.
I eased the door inward. Without a barrier between us, the sound cut through me like a knife. I slapped a palm against the wall, hitting the light switch, and flinched at the sudden brightness. At what it might reveal.
Katie lay flat on her back, her eyes shut tight, with the sheets snarled in a ball at the end of the bed. Sweat poured down her face, plastering her pink hair to her skin. The wild scream continued, unrelenting, her jaw stretched wide, her neck muscles protruding. But everything else was in its rightful place. Nothing was broken. The lock on the window hugged its latch.
I stepped into the room and spun, bumping into the dresser. My pulse thrashed; it mimicked Katie’s scream in pendulum beats. Loud then muffled then loud again. “Katie?” My voice felt tight. I knelt on the mattress and shook my sister’s broad shoulders. “Wake up.”
The scream cracked. Katie sucked in air as if she were drowning and began again, just as terrified. I used the back of my wrist to wipe the moisture from my forehead. My nails dug into her shoulders, and I shook her rigid body with every ounce of strength I had. The more I yelled her name, the more desperate, more savage, my voice became. Black spots danced in my vision. Nightmares were one thing, but this was something else. Something beyond that. I shook the dizzying fear away and darted into the bathroom across the hall.
I returned with a Dixie cup of cold water and leapt onto the bed. The water hit Katie’s face with a splash. “Come on,” I shouted to no avail.
I fumbled for Katie’s cell phone on the nightstand. If our mother didn’t know what to do, she could send someone who did. My thumb hovered over the direct number to my mother’s unit when a quick, metallic burst of air whooshed in from the hallway. A shiver ravaged my spine, and Katie’s pitch reached new heights. I slipped from the bed, my hip smashing into the floor. The phone fell from my hand, seemingly in slow motion. I lunged for the door, and slammed it shut, leaning my back against the wood.
I couldn’t think.
Couldn’t... I couldn’t...
The walls seemed to shrink, boxing me in. Trapping me.
Above the screech, a deep chuckle rumbled in the hall. My heart rose to my throat, and I dove for the phone where it had landed on the rug. I managed to dial nine before Katie’s scream cut off. Palpable silence penetrated the room. My rapid breathing mixed with my sister’s, and I edged up onto shaking knees. Katie rolled onto her side with a twitch.
“Katie?” My voice came out as a squeak.
She snuggled into the pillow, and her breathing returned to normal. Okay. She was okay. I turned my attention to the space at the bottom of the door. There was probably no one out there anyway. My sister’s screams threw me off after a confusing night, that’s all. I was merely tired and scared and was likely imagining the whole thing.
But before I called anyone, I had to be sure.
With the phone clutched in my hand, I crawled across the room to where the bright yellow handle of Katie’s tennis racket leaned against the wall. I gripped the hard foam and held it to my shoulder. I didn’t want to leave Katie alone but what choice did I have? I couldn’t call for help if no one was out there. My mother would have a field day.
Clenching my jaw shut to keep my teeth from chattering, I dialed two one’s before opening the door. If anyone was on the other side, it would only take a single touch to call for help.
I eased out, holding the racket in front of me, and flicked on the hallway light. The stillness slammed into me like a brick wall. “Okay, okay, okay,” I chanted under my breath. This was stupid. And yet… at five-foot-three and a hundred and ten pounds, an intruder wouldn’t necessarily need to be armed to overpower me.
My nerves exploded with a burst of adrenaline, and I leapt from room to room until each light bulb on the second floor glowed. I checked every closet, under every bed. The racket shook in my hand. There was nothing. No one. An irrational spike of anger zipped through me at the possibility of my brain’s betrayal.
My body moved on its own accord, taking me downstairs one tentative step at a time. One million potential fates I might encounter, if there was someone lying in wait, coursed through my thoughts. The joints in my fingers locked around the phone with my thumb still over the green call button. My tongue was sandpaper against the roof of my mouth, and I crept through the living room.
The freezer was still open, rattling in an attempt to keep the internal temperature down. I chomped down on my lip and inched my way forward to shut it. The rarely-used alarm system beside the back door taunted me—if only I remembered the code.
It seemed like it took ages to finish searching the house. I looked everywhere from the coat closet to beneath the bathroom sink, but it had only been eleven minutes since I had woken up. No time at all, really. I gripped the back of a dining room chair to stay on my feet.
There was no intruder. Katie had a nightmare, and my mind deceived me.
Again.
Always.
Only this time, it wasn’t part of my subconscious. I wasn’t asleep. Katie had screamed. There was a blast of air. Someone had laughed.
I swallowed the fear rising in my chest.
No one believed they were crazy. I wasn’t sure what it meant if I thought I was unhinged but constantly persuaded myself to believe I wasn’t. Was I? Wasn’t I? Not even the doctors could agree on an answer. My sanity was a double-edged sword, and I was fighting to maintain balance on the tip.
I dashed back to Katie and climbed in bed beside her, nestling close. I tucked the wrinkled sheet around us both and tried to ignore the nausea curdling in my stomach. Katie was older than me, bolder and more confident, but in that moment, she felt as fragile as blown glass. I wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed my eyes shut. My ears strained to hear the slightest sound that could signal danger, but no one else was in the house.
No one had laughed.
The Sandman wasn’t real.
I balled the back of Katie’s T-shirt in my fist. He was real enough to me, and I needed him. Please, Sandman, I called in a silent plea for the second time tonight—the one only he could hear. Help me sleep.
About Amber:

Amber R. Duell was born and raised in a small town in Central New York. While it will always be home, she’s constantly moving with her husband and two sons as a military wife. Before becoming published, she had a wide range of occupations including banking, bartending (though she’s never tried alcohol), and phlebotomy (though she faints with needles). She also volunteered as a re-enactor at the local Revolutionary War fort and worked near shelter cats which led to her previous crazy cat lady status.

She does her best writing in the middle of the night, surviving the daylight hours with massive amounts of caffeine. Her favorite stories are dark with a touch of romance and a villain you either love to hate or hate to love.

 When not reading or writing, she enjoys snowboarding, embroidering, snuggling with her cat, and staying up way too late to research genealogy. She loves to travel and has visited more countries than states. Kissing the Blarney Stone and hand-feeding monkeys in the mountains of France will be hard to beat, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to find the next real-life adventure.

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will win a $10 Amazon Gift Card, INTERNATIONAL.




Thursday, January 24, 2019

Blog Tour- COURTING DARKNESS by Robin LaFevers With An Excerpt & Giveaway!



I am happy to be hosting a stop on the blog tour for COURTING DARKNESS by Robin LaFevers! I LOVEEEEE Robin and am a huge fan of all of her books!!! I have an excerpt to share with you today check it out and enter to win the giveaway below!

About The Book:



Title: COURTING DARKNESS (Courting Darkness Duology #1)
Author: Robin LaFevers
Pub. Date: February 5, 2019
Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers
Formats: Hardcover, eBook, audiobook
Pages: 160
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonAudibleB&NiBooksTBD

Death wasn’t the end, it was only the beginning

Sybella has always been the darkest of Death’s daughters, trained at the convent of Saint Mortain to serve as his justice. But she has a new mission now. In a desperate bid to keep her two youngest sisters safe from the family that nearly destroyed them all, she agrees to accompany the duchess to France, where they quickly find themselves surrounded by enemies. Their one ray of hope is Sybella’s fellow novitiates, disguised and hidden deep in the French court years ago by the convent
provided Sybella can find them.

Genevieve has been undercover for so many years, she struggles to remember who she is or what she’s supposed to be fighting for. Her only solace is a hidden prisoner who appears all but forgotten by his guards. When tragedy strikes, she has no choice but to take matters into her own hands
even if it means ignoring the long awaited orders from the convent.

As Sybella and Gen’s paths draw ever closer, the fate of everything they hold sacred rests on a knife’s edge. Will they find each other in time, or will their worlds collide, destroying everything they care about?

See where it all began! Grab the His Fair Assassin Trilogy now! You don’t need to read these to read Courting Darkness but they’re amazing!

Grave Mercy- AmazonAudibleB&NiBooksTBD
Dark Triumph- AmazonAudibleB&NiBooksTBD
Mortal Heart- AmazonAudibleB&NiBooksTBD



Now on to the excerpt!

Sybella

From the height of the eastern tower, I can see that the holly bush is slightly larger than yesterday, as is the crop of offerings beneath its branches. It is hard to keep my fingers from drifting to the twig hidden in my belt, even as I mock myself for doing so. And yet I cannot bring myself to throw it away.

Harder still is not picking at the scabs that have begun to form over old wounds. Especially now that the essence of what made me more than simply the sum of those wounds has been taken from me.

But not all of it has been taken. I am still able to experience the souls of the dying. Indeed, it is the soul of the guard who died with my hand on his chest that brings me to this tower today.

It has been a full week since the battle. While souls normally linger for only three days before moving to the Otherworld, those that suffer a violent death often take longer, if they ever move on at all. And today, with no people nearby to distract me with their heartbeats, I am able to sense a few that remain. They bump and flutter, restless and unsettled.

For my entire life, this ability to sense souls has felt more like a curse than a gift. When I was a child, their cold, chill presence brushed against me with icy wings of terror. In the end, they were nothing to be afraid of, although it took me a long time to learn that.

It is the souls of the newly dead like those I killed yesterday that are the most disturbing. The forced, unwanted intimacy, the eager, hungry way they flock to my warmth, the shocking and unwelcome invasion of their final thoughts shoving their way into my mind. I have learned to protect myself from them, with practice. But there is always that initial violation before I can resist. However, in this new upended world, like a beggar with scraps, I will grasp this remaining gift with both hands and call it a feast.

As the wisps of faded souls flutter against me, I close my eyes, trying to think how best to invite them to me. As it turns out, I do not have to. Merely having the thought causes them to flock to me like moths to flame, the dark gray ripple of their invisible wings barely detectable.

It is the weight of their souls and memories that nearly causes me to stagger. The neigh of a war horse. A flash of steel. An aching regret for a pair of lips that will never be kissed again. A surge of honor here. A wave of shame at being bested there. It is like running my hand through the small stones in a riverbed, each one cold, vividly colored, and uniquely formed.

Except for one one of them is shockingly vibrant, so much so that I wonder if one of the wounded on the battlefield was overlooked and that he passed into death but recently.

Before I can fully explore this, I am distracted by a living heartbeat mounting the stairs behind me. My eyes snap open, and I quickly lower my arms. The heart beats in a rhythm so slow and deep and steady that I recognize it immediately.


Beast.




About Robin:
Robin LaFevers was raised on a steady diet of fairy tales, Bulfinch’s mythology, and 19th century poetry. It is not surprising she grew up to be a hopeless romantic.

Though she has never trained as an assassin or joined a convent, she did attend Catholic school for three years, which instilled in her a deep fascination with sacred rituals and the concept of the Divine. She has been on a search for answers to life’s mysteries ever since.

While many of those answers still elude her, she was lucky enough to find her one true love, and is living happily ever after with him in the foothills of southern California.

In addition to writing about teen assassin nuns in medieval Brittany, she writes books for middle grade readers, including the Theodosia books and the Nathaniel Fludd, Beastologist series. You can learn more about those books at www.rllafevers.com.

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Giveaway Details:
20 winners will receive His Fair Assassin character card sets, US Only.





Tour Schedule:
Week One:
1/21/2018- The Pages In-BetweenReview
1/22/2018- Fiction FareReview
1/23/2018- YA Books CentralExcerpt
1/24/2018- Two Chicks on BooksExcerpt
1/25/2018- Tales of the Ravenous ReaderReview

Week Two:
1/28/2019- ColorimetryReview
1/29/2019- Here's to Happy EndingsReview
1/30/2019- A Gingerly ReviewReview
1/31/2019- Moonlight RendezvousReview
2/1/2019- Novel NoviceExcerpt

Week Three:
2/4/2019- Lisa Loves LiteratureReview
2/5/2019- Flyleaf ChroniclesReview
2/6/2019- Smada's Book SmackReview
2/7/2019- A Backwards StoryReview
2/8/2019- Jena Brown WritesReview

Week Four:
2/11/2019- NerdophilesReview
2/12/2019- Book-KeepingReview
2/13/2019- Eli to the nthReview
2/14/2019- Do You Dog-ear?Review
2/15/2019- Book BriefsReview

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