Blog Tour- NOBODY'S LADY by Amy McNulty 5 Favorite Scenes & A Giveaway!

Hey y'all! I have a guest post from Amy McNulty, author of the Never Veil Series! NOBODY'S LADY released on Tuesday!!! Oh and stick around for the giveaway!

Haven't heard of NOBODY'S LADY ? Check it out!

Title: NOBODY'S LADY 

Author: Amy McNulty

Pub. Date: April , 2016

Publisher: Month9Books

Pages: 250

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Find it: Goodreads | Amazon | B&N | iBooks 

For the first time in a thousand years, the men in Noll’s village possess the freedom to love whom they will. In order to give each man the chance to fully explore his feelings, the lord of the village decrees all marriages null and void until both spouses declare their love for one another and their desire to wed again. What many women think will be a simple matter becomes a source of village-wide tension as most men decide to leave their families and responsibilities behind.

Rejected by the lord and ashamed of her part in the village’s history, Noll withdraws from her family and lives life as an independent woodcarver. This changes when her sister accuses her of hiding her former husband Jurij from her—and when Jurij eventually does ask to move in. Determined not to make the same mistakes, Noll decides to support her male friends through their new emotional experiences, but she’s soon caught up in a darker plot than she ever dared imagine possible from the men she thought she knew so well. And the lord for whom she still has feelings may be hiding the most frightening truth of them all.

Now on to the post! 

I have a lot of favorite scenes in Nobody’s Lady, even though I probably have more favorite scenes in the first and third books in The Never Veil Series. But Nobody’s Lady is an important bridge between the two, and it’s the first time you really get to know some of the characters in light of the events at the end of the first book, which drastically changed the way of life for the villagers in Noll’s little world. Here are my absolute favorites:

1. Noll visits the lord

The very first chapter in Nobody’s Lady picks up immediately where Nobody’s Goddess ended, and it’s the first time Noll and the lord have spoken since she almost killed him and figured out that the spell cast over her village was largely her fault. This new information has softened Noll’s view on the lord. She now realizes how much he suffered and how much he truly sacrificed to save her, and she’s even leaning toward opening herself up to accepting his love at last. However, his heart is finally free, and his view of Noll has changed for the worse, so he’s definitely not in the mood for reconciliation. I love how things have changed between them, so she’s the one in love and he’s the one rejecting her, and how their mutual stubbornness still manages to ruin things between them.

2. Jurij confesses his love for Noll

Noll spent most of the first book lamenting the fact that she was in love with her best friend, Jurij, whose goddess was Noll’s sister, Elfriede. Because of the magic that made each man in the village fall in love with only one woman and devote himself to her entirely, there was no way short of breaking the thousand-year magic that Noll could ever hope for Jurij to feel the same way. Now Jurij is free to think for himself and he actually isn’t sure what he wants, but he does consider himself in love with Noll. He assumes because she spent so long chasing him, she’ll accept his feelings, but she’s tormented by the love she now feels for the lord despite his rejection of her. I love how things have changed between these two characters as well, and how Jurij is starting to become his own person.

3. A source of magic is discovered

Despite all the turmoil in the village as relationships break down, some men are more concerned about why they were ever magically compelled to love in the first place, and why the spell over the village broke. Noll is reluctant to share what she knows, so they investigate without her and come across at least one source of magic that explains why the lord is thought to be “always watching” over his villagers. It was fun to explore the magic in the village in more detail and come up with a reason why the lord and his servants seem to know things they shouldn’t. 

4. A confrontation in the cavern

The climax of the book takes place in the cavern that caused so much trouble in the first book. I won’t divulge the details, but tensions are running high and relationships are put to the test. There’s even a moment I felt was truly heartbreaking to write.

5. The end

I can’t reveal what happens at the very end of the book, but I felt so triumphant when I finally got to write it out. It’s a cliffhanger, but not one that makes you feel cheated as a reader (I hope). It’s more like I hope you’ll be very eager to read more!

About Amy

Amy McNulty is a freelance writer and editor from Wisconsin with an honors degree in English. She was first published in a national scholarly journal (The Concord Review) while in high school and currently writes professionally about everything from business marketing to anime. In her down time, you can find her crafting stories with dastardly villains and antiheroes set in fantastical medieval settings.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Goodreads

Giveaway Details:

Five (5) winners will receive a digital copy of NOBODY'S LADY by AmyMcNulty (INT)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Start at the beginning!

M9B Friday Reveal- NOBODY'S LADY by Amy McNulty Cover & Chapter 1 Reveal And A Giveaway!

Today Amy McNulty and Month9Books are revealing the cover and first chapter for NOBODY’S LADY! Book 2 in the Never Veil Series which releases April 12, 2016! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to be one of the first readers to receive an eGalley!!

On to the reveal!

Title: NOBODY’S LADY

Author: Amy McNulty

Pub. Date: April 12, 2016

Publisher: Month9Books

Format: Paperback & eBook

Find it: Amazon | Goodreads

For the first time in a thousand years, the men in Noll’s village possess the freedom to love whom they will. In order to give each man the chance to fully explore his feelings, the lord of the village decrees all marriages null and void until both spouses declare their love for one another and their desire to wed again. What many women think will be a simple matter becomes a source of village-wide tension as most men decide to leave their families and responsibilities behind.

Rejected by the lord and ashamed of her part in the village’s history, Noll withdraws from her family and lives life as an independent woodcarver. This changes when her sister accuses her of hiding her former husband Jurij from her—and when Jurij eventually does ask to move in. Determined not to make the same mistakes, Noll decides to support her male friends through their new emotional experiences, but she’s soon caught up in a darker plot than she ever dared imagine possible from the men she thought she knew so well. And the lord for whom she still has feelings may be hiding the most frightening truth of them all.

Excerpt

Chapter One

When I thought I understood real friendship, I was a long-lost queen. When I discovered there was so much more to my life than love and hate, that those around me were just pawns in a game whose rules I’d unwittingly put in place, I discovered I was a long-forgotten goddess. But goddess or not, powerless or powerful, my feet were taking me someplace I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. What did I hope to find? Did I truly believe I could hear him call me—that he’d want to call me? Yes, I did. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to hope, even if I wasn’t sure I was allowed. If I deserved to. I headed down the familiar dirt path beneath the lattice of trees overhead, pausing beside the bush with a partially snapped stem that jutted outward like a broken limb. The one that pointed to the secret cavern.

Only, it’s not much of a secret anymore, is it?

My feet picked themselves up. Glowing pools would never again tempt me.

I reached the black, towering fortress that had for so long shaken and screamed at the power of my glance.

For the first time in this lifetime, I stared up at it, and nothing moved. My legs, unused to such steady footing while in the sight of the lord’s castle, twitched in anticipation of a fall that never came.

There was no need. My feet dragged me forward.

At the grand wooden door, I raised a fist to knock.

But I stopped. I felt like if I touched it, the entire castle might crumble. It had done so once before. Not at my touch exactly. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was responsible for whatever destruction I’d find in this place. But that was presumptuous of me. He was strong-willed, and he wouldn’t crumble at the prospect of freedom. If anything, he’d be triumphant over it.

You can’t stop now. I pulled my sleeves over my wrists and propped both elbows against the door, pushing until it gave way.

The darkness inside the foyer tried to deceive me into thinking night had fallen. The stream of light that trickled from the familiar crack in the garden door called the darkness a liar.

I gripped the small iron handles, the material of my sleeves guarding the cold metal from my touch, and pulled.

My touch had come to the garden before me.

The rose bushes that surrounded the enclosed circular area were torn, ripped, trodden, and plucked. The blooms lay withered, scattered and turned to dust, their once-white petals a sickly shade of yellowish brown, smooth blooms turned coarse and wrinkled.

The fountain at the center no longer trickled with water. Its shallow pool was stagnant, piles of brown festering in mildewing green liquid. Dotted amongst the brown was pallid stone rubble. The tears of the weeping elf child statue, which belonged at the top of the fountain, had ceased at last. But the gash across its face told me the child’s tears had not been staunched by joy. I wondered if Ailill had had it carved to represent the pain I’d inflicted on him as a child. And I wondered if now he could no longer bear to remind himself of what I’d done.

I hadn’t done this. But I felt as if I had. If Ailill had gone on a rampage after he came back to the castle, it was because of what I’d done to him. Everything I touched turned sour. I yanked and pulled, trying to draw my hands further into my sleeves, but there wasn’t enough material to cover them entirely.

“Well, what a surprise.” I gazed into the shadow beside the doorway. How could I have not seen? The stone table was occupied. The place where I’d sat alone for hours, days, and months was littered with crumpled and decaying leaves, branches, and petals, obscuring the scars left by a dagger or knife striking time and time again across its surface. The matching bench that once nestled on the opposite side was toppled over, leaving only dark imprints in the dirt.

“A pity you could not make yourself at home here when you were welcome.”

My breath caught in my throat.

The man at the table was clad entirely in black, as I knew he would be. The full-length jacket had been swapped for a jerkin, but I could see the embossing of roses hadn’t been discarded in the exchange. He wore dark leather gloves, the fingers of which were crossed like the wings of a bird in flight. His pale elbows rested on the table amongst the leaves and branches and thorns. He wore the hat I was used to seeing him wear, a dark, pointed top resting on a wide brim. Its black metal band caught a ray of the sunlight almost imperceptibly. But I noticed. I always did.

His face was entirely uncovered. Those large and dark eyes, locked on me, demanded my attention. They were the same eyes of the boy I’d left alone to face my curse—not so long ago from my point of view. He was more frightened then, but there was no mistaking the hurt in those eyes both then and now.

“You are not welcome here, Olivière.”

His words sliced daggers through my stomach.

“I … I thought I heard you call me.”

He cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes moving askance. “You heard me call you?”

“Yes … ” I realized how foolish it sounded. I was a fool to come. Why had I let myself fall for that sound again, for my name whispered on the wind? Why was I so certain it was he who’d said my name?

He smiled, not kindly. “And where, pray tell, have you been lurking? Under a rose bush? Behind the garden door? Or do those rounded female ears possess a far greater sense of hearing than my jagged male ones?”

I brushed the tips of my ears self-consciously. Elric had been so fascinated by them, by what he saw as a mutilation. This lord—Ailill—wasn’t like that. He’d touched them once, as a child. He’d tried to heal them, thinking they were meant to be pointed.

The boy with a heart was the man sitting there before me. Even after all we’d been through, he’d still done me a kindness by healing my mother. “No, I just thought—”

“No, you did not think, or you would not have come.”

I clenched my jaw. My tongue was threatening to spew the vile anger that had gotten us into this mess to begin with.

He sighed and crossed his arms across his chest. “I gave explicit instructions that I not be disturbed.” He leaned back against the wall behind him, his chin jutting outward slightly.

I wiped my sweaty fingertips on my skirt. I wouldn’t let the rest of my hands out from the insides of my sleeves. The sweat had already soaked through them. “I needed to thank you.”

He scoffed. “Thank me for what? For your prolonged captivity, or for not murdering both your mother and your lover when I had the chance?”

So you admit you took Jurij to punish me? You admit they were both in danger in your “care”? Quickly, I had to clench my jaw to keep down the words that threatened to spill over. He’s not who I thought he was. He wouldn’t have harmed them.

I loosened the muscles in my jaw one hair’s breadth at a time.

“For healing me when you were a child. For accepting me into your castle instead of putting me to death for trespassing in it. For … For forgiving me for cursing you, even though you were innocent.” My voice was quiet, but I was determined to make it grow louder. “For saving my mother’s life.”

He waved one hand lazily in the air. “Unfinished projects irk me.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

A shrug. “The magic was nearly entirely spent on the churl anyway.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He leaned forward and placed both palms across the rotted forest remnants on the table. “My apologies,” he said, his lips curled into a sneer. “I simply meant that I wasted years and years and let the magic wither from my body to save a person of no consequence. You may thank me for that if you like. I would rather not be reminded of it.”

How odd it was to see the face I’d imagined come to life. The mocking, the condescending—it was all there. I just hadn’t known the canvas before.

And what a strange and beautiful canvas it was. That creamy peach skin, the brownish tint of his shoulder-length tresses. He was so much paler than any person I had ever seen. Save for the specters.

Despite the paleness, part of me felt I wasn’t wrong to have mistaken one brother for another. Elric had been dark-skinned, but they seemed almost like reflections of the same person; they shared the same brows, the same lips, and even eyes of a similar shape if not color. Perhaps the face before me was a bit gaunter, the nose a bit longer. It was easier to focus on the differences. Thinking of the similarities made me want to punch the face in front of me all the more—and that would undermine everything I had set out to do when I made my way to him. I wanted to see if you were really restored to life. Say it. I wanted to know if you really forgave me. Say it. I wanted to know why I … Why I feel this way about you, why I keep thinking about you, when I used to be unable to stand the sight of you. Say it, Noll! I dug my nails into my palm and shook the thoughts from my head. He’d called my mother a “churl.” I couldn’t just tell him everything I was thinking. “Have you no sense of empathy?”

“What a coincidence that you should mention that. I am sending Ailill to the village with an edict. He can escort

you there.” “Ailill?” But aren’t you him? Could I have been mistaken? Oh, goddess, help me, why do I do this to myself? Why do I think I know everything?

He waved his hand, and one of the specters appeared beside me from the foyer.

The specters. There were about a hundred of them in the castle. Pale as snow in skin and hair with red, burning eyes. Mute servants who seemed to anticipate the lord’s every command. Only now I knew who they really were.

Oh. “You call him by your own name?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “I call them all by my name. They are me, remember?”

His icy stare sent another invisible dagger through my stomach. “Yes, but—”

“A shame you never cared to ask my name when you were my guest,” he said. “I have a feeling things might have turned out much differently—for all of us.”

“You knew what would happen! Why didn’t you warn me?” I had to squeeze my fists and teeth together to stop myself from screaming. This wasn’t going at all like I had hoped. But what had I hoped? What could I have possibly expected? I thought I’d be forgiven. I thought that Ailill and I might start over, that we could be friends, perhaps even … What a fool I’ve been.

Ailill turned slightly, his attention suddenly absorbed in a single white petal that remained on a half-trodden bush beside him. “I was not entirely in control of my emotions,” he said, “as you may well know.”

“I tried to give you a way out!” My jaw wouldn’t stay shut.

Ailill laughed and reached over to pluck the petal from its thorns. “Remind me exactly when that was? Perhaps between condemning me to an eternal life of solitude and wretchedness and providing yourself with a way to feel less guilty about the whole affair? And then you just popped right back to the present, I suppose, skipping over those endless years in a matter of moments.” He crushed the petal in his hand.

“A way to let myself feel less guilty?” He wasn’t entirely wrong. But it wasn’t as if he had done nothing wrong.

Ailill bolted upright, slamming the fist that gripped the petal against the twigs and grass on the table. “Your last words to me were entirely for your own benefit, as well you know!”

If, after your own Returning, you can find it in your heart to forgive me, the last of the men whose blood runs with his own power will free all men bound by my curse.

“How is wishing to break the curse on the village for my benefit?”

“Perhaps because the curse was your doing? Perhaps because you only wanted the curse broken to free your lover from it in the first place?”

“Stop calling Jurij my ‘lover.’ He’s not—”

“And you did free him with those words. You knew I would forgive you.”

“How could I have known? I didn’t think it possible you’d forgive me, not after all we’ve been through.”

“You knew because you knew I wanted to be free myself. That I would do anything—even forgive you for half a moment—to earn that freedom.” His voice grew quieter. “You never wanted anything from me, not really. I was just a pawn in your game, a way to free the other men in your village, a way to punish the men from mine.”

I fought back what I couldn’t believe was threatening to spring to my eyes. No tears, not in front of him.

“The men of the old village deserved everything they got,” I spat at last, knowing full well that wasn’t the whole story.

Ailill scoffed and put both hands on his hips, his arms akimbo. Oh, how I tired of that pose. The crushed petal remained on the table. Its bright white added a bit of life to the decay.

“There were plenty of young boys not yet corrupted,” he said. “And some that might have never been.” He took a deep breath. “But, of course, you are not entirely to blame. I blame myself every day for ever taking a childish interest in you. That should not have counted as love.”

I swallowed. Of course. Before the curse of the village had broken, a woman had absolute power over the one man who loved or yearned for her. When I visited the past through the pool in the secret cavern, I discovered a horde of lusty men who knew nothing of love but were overcome with desire. Since so many had lusted for any female who walked before them, and I had carried the power from my own version of the village with me, it had been child’s play to control the men. But why had that power extended to Ailill? He had only been a boy then, broken, near silent—and kindhearted. He couldn’t have regarded me with more than a simple crush on an older sisterly figure, but it had been enough.

“But you did forgive me.” Why couldn’t I stop the words from flowing?

Ailill shook his head and let a weary smile spread across his features. “Forgive you? I could never forgive you. No more than I could forgive myself for daring to think, if just for a moment, that I … ” He stopped.

I shook my head. “The curse wouldn’t have been broken. The men in the village wouldn’t now be walking around without masks. Nor you without your veil. If you hadn’t forgiven me.”

Ailill tilted his head slightly. His dark eyes searched mine, perhaps for some answer he thought could be found there. “I would still need the veil even now?” he asked, his voice quiet. “Are you certain?”

Removing the veil before the curse was broken would have required the Returning, a ritual in which I freely and earnestly bestowed my heart and affection to him. It would have never happened, not with the man I knew at the time to be mine. So yes, he would still need the veil to survive the gaze of women. I was sure of it. He’d been arrogant, erratic, and even cruel. Perhaps not so much as Elric, Ailill’s even more volatile older brother, the one who wound up with a mob of angry, murderous women in his castle and a gouge through his heart. But even so.

It was my turn to cross my arms and sneer. “I said you could break the curse after your own Returning, and I specified that you didn’t need my affection to have a Returning. All you needed to do was crawl out of whatever abyss I’d sent you to.” I shifted uncomfortably in place. “And I suppose I should be grateful—for my mother’s sake—that you did.”

Ailill waved a hand at the specter beside me and brushed aside a pile of clippings on the table to reveal a hand-written letter. It was yellowed and a tad soggy. “Yes, well, the endless droning that made up your curse gets a bit foggy in my mind—assuming it even made sense in your mind to begin with. I am afraid I lack the ability to retain exact memories of an event that took place a hundred lifetimes ago when I was but a scarred child terrified of the monster before him.” He looked up to face me as the specter retrieved the letter from his extended hand. “But I suppose it was not all that long ago for the monster, was it?” He turned again to the table, shuffling brush about aimlessly. “Take her with you to the market,” he said.

The specter made to grab my arm as he passed. I slipped out of his reach only to back into another specter who had appeared quick as lightning from the foyer. He grabbed one arm, and the first specter seized the other.

“Let go of me!” I shouted as they began to drag me away.

The specters didn’t pause, as they once would have.

“Stop!” called Ailill from behind me. The specters did as they were told.

Ailill spoke. “I forgot to inform you that my retainers lost all desire to follow your orders when I did.” He waved his fingers in the air. “Carry on.”

I struggled against the grip the specters had on my arms. Again. He has me under his thumb again. “I can walk by myself!” I screamed as my toes slid awkwardly against the dark foyer floor. “I don’t need to go to the market!”

A black carriage awaited us outside the castle doorway. A third specter opened the carriage door, and my captors heaved me up into the seat like a sack of grain. The one with the letter slid in and took the seat across from me. He stared vacantly at the top of the seat behind me.

I leaned forward, whipping my hand out to stop the carriage door as one of the specters moved to close it. I didn’t care what I touched in the castle anymore. Let the whole thing crumble.

A black-gloved hand covered mine. I jumped back. Ailill stuck his head inside the carriage. His face stopped right before mine, the brim of his hat practically shading me under it. The sight of his face so close to mine, unveiled and painted with disdain, caused a thunderous racing of my heart. It was as if I’d just run the length of the entire village.

“You kept your hair short,” he said. He reached his free hand toward it, then pulled back.

I’d once let the bushy mess of black hair grow as long as it wanted, but once I cropped it closely to my scalp, I found it easier to deal with. “There hasn’t been enough time for it to grow, anyway. Not for me.”

He snorted. “Of course. But it makes me remember you as you were, long ago. When you cursed me and every man whether he deserved it or not.” He leaned back a bit, putting more space between our faces. “I think you will be most interested in going with my servants to the market,” he said. “But there will be no need to thank me in person afterward. I would rather not see you again.” His eyes drifted upwards, thoughtfully. “In fact, remind the villagers that I am closed to all audiences. My servants will be out there to see that my edict is obeyed.”

Before I could speak, he leaned back and let my hand fall from his. He reached around the door to close it.

“Wait—”

And slammed it in my face.

About Amy: 

Amy McNulty is a freelance writer and editor from Wisconsin with an honors degree in English. She was first published in a national scholarly journal (The Concord Review) while in high school and currently writes professionally about everything from business marketing to anime. In her down time, you can find her crafting stories with dastardly villains and antiheroes set in fantastical medieval settings. Visit her website at amymcnulty.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive an eBook of NOBODY’S GODDESS and an eGalley of NOBODY’S LADY. International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

#T4T- NOBODY’S GODDESS & CROWN OF ICE and A Giveaway!

Welcome to this week’s Two for Thursday! #T4T

presented by Month9books/Tantrum Books!

Today, we will be showcasing two titles that will tickle your fancy,

and we’ll share what readers have to say about these titles!

You just might find your next read!

This week, #T4T presents to you:

   

Title: NOBODY'S GODDESS

Author: Amy McNulty

Pub. Date: April 21, 2015

Publisher: Month9Books, LLC.

Pages: 274

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Find it: Goodreads| Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | TBD

In a village of masked men, magic compels each man to love only one woman and to follow the commands of his “goddess” without question. A woman may reject the only man who will love her if she pleases, but she will be alone forever. And a man must stay masked until his goddess returns his love—and if she can’t or won’t, he remains masked forever.

Seventeen-year-old Noll isn't in the mood to celebrate. Her childhood friends have paired off and her closest companion, Jurij, found his goddess in Noll’s own sister. Desperate to find a way to break this ancient spell, Noll instead discovers why no man has ever chosen her.

Thus begins a dangerous game between the choice of woman versus the magic of man. And the stakes are no less than freedom and happiness, life and death—and neither is willing to lose.

Praise for NOBODY’S GODDESS:

“There are many terrestrial qualities to this 16th-century village, such as mountains, meadows, forests, and lakes. But there are also hints of magic throughout . . . the story is fun and engaging, featuring a female protagonist who will resonate with young teens.”  —School Library Journal

"Wow. I appreciate this fantasy for what it is: detailed, unique, and just all round amazing. It's the kind of novel that keeps you guessing, and just when you think you've got the twist, something happens to throw you off course.."~ Melanie McFarlane author of the upcoming THERE ONCE WERE STARS & SUMMONER RISING.

WHAT READER’S ARE SAYING:

"It was something so unique and different that I found myself really enthralled with the story. To the point that I almost had to blink myself out of a daze when I finished. "~ Jamie, Blogger @ Queen of The Bookshelves

"I would definitely recommend Nobody's Goddess to anybody looking for a great fantasy book with a plot that's unlike anything I've read before. The characters and the world are all done incredibly well, and Amy's talent with making words jump right off the page to tell the story is just fantastic. "~Ashley, Blogger @ The AP Book Club

"This book is different from any fantasy book I've read before in its concept. It treads the path less traveled, and manages to make a great story that readers can enjoy and love."~Bri, Blogger @ Books And Ashes

Amy McNulty is a freelance writer and editor from Wisconsin with an honors degree in English. She was first published in a national scholarly journal (The Concord Review) while in high school and currently spends her days alternatively writing on business and marketing topics and primarily crafting stories with dastardly villains and antiheroes set in fantastical medieval settings.

Connect with the Author:  Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Title: CROWN OF ICE

Publication date: September 9, 2014

Publisher: Month9Books, LLC.

Author: Vicki L. Weavil

ISBN: 978-1939765390

Find it: Goodreads| Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo |TBD | iBooks

Thyra Winther’s seventeen, the Snow Queen, and immortal, but if she can’t reassemble a shattered enchanted mirror by her eighteenth birthday she’s doomed to spend eternity as a wraith.

Armed with magic granted by a ruthless wizard, Thyra schemes to survive with her mind and body intact. Unencumbered by kindness, she kidnaps local boy Kai Thorsen, whose mathematical skills rival her own. Two logical minds, Thyra calculates, are better than one. With time rapidly melting away she needs all the help she can steal.

A cruel lie ensnares Kai in her plan, but three missing mirror shards and Kai’s childhood friend, Gerda, present more formidable obstacles. Thyra’s willing to do anything – venture into uncharted lands, outwit sorcerers, or battle enchanted beasts — to reconstruct the mirror, yet her most dangerous adversary lies within her breast. Touched by the warmth of a wolf pup’s devotion and the fire of a young man’s desire, the thawing of Thyra’s frozen heart could be her ultimate undoing.

CROWN OF ICE is a YA Fantasy that reinvents Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Snow Queen” from the perspective of a young woman who discovers that the greatest threat to her survival may be her own humanity.

Praise for CROWN OF ICE:

“A re-imagining of The Snow Queen, moving and well written.” Sandra Waugh, Author of The Guardians of Tarnec Series.

“I admire the depiction of a young woman staying true to herself and not letting the pressures of love or expectations effect her choice. Thyra becomes an example that would do any woman proud.” Michelle Hauck, Author of Grudging.

“Weavil conducts a careful balancing act between loyalty to the original story and exploring new frontiers; I think she succeeds in this task, and fans of fairytale re-tellings will enjoy this one.” The Australia Times

WHAT READER’S ARE SAYING:

"CROWN OF ICE offers so much more than just the tale of The Snow Queen with a change of perspective. A solid YA adventure with teenagers who learn so much about themselves, and each other. Even the expected happily ever after offers believable surprises that underscore the maturity and independence they each have gained.."~ Julia, Blogger @ All Things Urban Fantasy

“I was enchanted by this book from the opening paragraphs. The story is told from Thyra's point of view, making it very personal and conversational in tone. By using this method, the reader gets to know Thyra on a deeper level than normal.”~ Stephanie, Blogger @ A Dream Within A Dream

“CROWN OF ICE is such a fascinating fantasy, with love adventure and enjoyable characters. I recommend for all fans of fantasy!!” ~ Tonyalee, Blogger @ LilyBloomBooks

“This book was fantastic, and so different from anything that I have ever read. I loved every single page of this book, and I very much look forward to whatever comes next from this amazing author!.”~ Jaime, Blogger @ The Best Books Ever

Vicki Lemp Weavil was raised in a farming community in Virginia, where her life was shaped by a wonderful family, the culture of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and an obsession with reading. Since obtaining her undergraduate degree in Theatre from the University of Virginia, she’s gone on to acquire two masters degrees, living in places as diverse as New York City and rural North Carolina. She’s currently the library director for a performing an visual arts university.  Vicki loves good writing in any genre, and has been known to read seven books in as many days. She enjoys travel, gardening, and the arts. Vicki lives in North Carolina with her husband, son, and some very spoiled cats.

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Blog Tour- NOBODY'S GODDESS by Amy McNulty A Special Excerpt and a Giveaway!

Hey y'all! I have an awesome exclusive excerpt from Amy McNulty the author of the amazing High Fantasy book NOBODY'S GODDESS for you today! Oh and stick around for the giveaway!
Haven't heard of NOBODY'S GODDESS ? Check it out!

Title: NOBODY'S GODDESS

Author: Amy McNulty

Pub. Date: April 21, 2015

Publisher: Month9Books, LLC.

Pages: 274

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Find it: Goodreads|Chapters Indigo | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | TBD

In a village of masked men, magic compels each man to love only one woman and to follow the commands of his “goddess” without question. A woman may reject the only man who will love her if she pleases, but she will be alone forever. And a man must stay masked until his goddess returns his love—and if she can’t or won’t, he remains masked forever.

Seventeen-year-old Noll isn't in the mood to celebrate. Her childhood friends have paired off and her closest companion, Jurij, found his goddess in Noll’s own sister. Desperate to find a way to break this ancient spell, Noll instead discovers why no man has ever chosen her.

Thus begins a dangerous game between the choice of woman versus the magic of man. And the stakes are no less than freedom and happiness, life and death—and neither is willing to lose.

Now on to the excerpt! 

A NOBODY’S GODDESS Scene from the Lord’s POV

If this did not go well, there would never again be an opportunity to gaze upon her through anything but this veil before my face. I had been a fool during that first meeting all those months prior, and it was only by her kindness and determination to keep her eyes shut that I still breathed.

          I was beginning to think it was a kindness I had imagined.

          We were eating now, and I had removed the veil I usually wrapped around my face, instead relying on a curtain of the same material that separated my end of the table from hers. That kept my face safe from the scorn in her eyes. That kept her beauty swathed in a haze of material through which I could never truly see her.

          She was not eating much. The food ought to have satisfied her. My servants were surely better cooks than her sister had been. I did not taste the stew the woman had offered, but I could tell from scent alone she had a long way to go before she could match the skill of one who had more years to perfect his art than she could imagine living. “Is the venison not to your liking?”

          The clink of her fork on the plate was too loud for it to have been an accident. I waited for her reply. There was none. “Olivière?” I asked instead.

Still, she did not answer. The end of the table at which she sat was far from my own end, and I strained to hear what she might be doing. Damn this veil. I could not see clear enough. My own appetite unsettled, I carefully set my knife and fork on my plate. “Olivière? Are you all right?”

There was no response. By now, that did not astonish me. I was certain my voice carried well enough over the length of the table in the cavernous room. She would not make any of this easy for me.

I motioned for the nearest servant to refill her drink, hoping for some sort of response, even if it just be for her to refuse my hospitality. She did not. Even through the veil, I could see her snatch the goblet out of the servant’s hand as she tossed her head back and downed the entire beverage at once.

Oh. She was choking. She was in danger. My goddess was…

 “Are you all right now?” My hands clutched the edge of the table so tightly, I almost tore the delicate lace. I could not go to help her, even if she were dying. I had to go, but I could not. I wanted to—but I would not. I could not risk it. I had to… “Olivière? Answer me!”

“Yes!” It was the first word she had spoken all evening—all day, since the moment she had arrived in my castle. The sound of her dropping the goblet onto the table was loud enough to make me think the glass had broken.

She was fine. But she had nothing more to say. I picked up the knife and fork again and went back to cutting the meat on my plate. If she refused to enjoy the resplendent meal before her, there was no reason I had to do the same.

Her response was to push her plate away from her.

I had to take a deep breath to calm my beating heart and that cursed notion inside of me to satisfy her every whim. She could not think she ruled over me like all of the rest of the goddesses did over their men in the village. She could not know how hard it was for me to stay calm. “Would you care for another dish for dinner?” I speared the meat on my plate with a little too much vigor, shoving the piece inside of my mouth to force myself to remain focused on the task instead of on that voice inside me that wanted me to worship her. That foolish voice that had almost gotten me killed the moment I had seen her trespass into my castle.

 “I’d like to be excused now.” Olivière pushed her chair back and stood.

Six of my servants moved toward her without my having to order them. Their primary instruction was my safety, even above the quiet forcefulness of obligation they or I might feel toward her as my goddess.

“Sit down,” I said. “Please.”

Her response sounded strained. “I’m not feeling well.”

I would not give in. I could not. If I let her know how easily she could harm me, if I gave her even the slightest indication that I valued her satisfaction over my own life—and damn it, there was a part of me that did just that, that cursed part of me, that cursed woman—she would never see me as her equal, as someone she could love. I attempted to keep eating, to diffuse the anger I knew she was feeling. The anger that seeped into my every pore, that cried out to be assuaged. “You have not eaten enough. Food will improve your temper.”

I could hear her take a deep breath, and I knew, before she even spoke, that the words she would say next would challenge all of my strength to resist her every whim.

“Let. Me. Leave.”

The fork fell from my hand and I held onto the table tightly if only to weigh myself down in my chair. I wanted to let her go. My servants were already complying without thinking, some making way for her to pass by. If she pushed it, she could walk outside the door and I would be powerless to stop her—and she would walk right past where I was seated, my face only protected by the veil that hung between us.

She could not know how much my every bone screamed out to gratify her. I would not have it.

I let go of the table, taking careful measures to draw in my bated breath quietly, so she would not hear the inner struggle. I picked up my napkin. “She means to let her retire from the dining hall for the night. And so shall I.” I dabbed at my face and felt my muscles relaxing. Yes. I could do this. I could interpret her commands in such a way she might be satisfied but might not be tempted to use her power over me so often, so harshly. She wanted to leave, and I would let her. We could end this first dinner together pleasantly. There was hope for me. For us. For this village.

The servants sensed my calm and went back to their work attending to me. One picked up the fork I had let fall from my fingers, while the others formed a line between me and the doorway, keeping me from view should Olivière immediately exit.

She did not.  “No, that’s not the full extent of my wishes,” she said, a strange falseness to her voice. “Let—”

“Do not speak further!” My hands shook. My legs would not support me. I leaned against the table with my fists, forgetting for a moment how I came to be standing, how the veil curtain wafted as if in a breeze. A servant righted my chair behind me. I must have knocked it down trying to stop her from speaking.

My words had been so loud, they continued to echo against the walls.

She would not let that be the end of it. “I don’t think you understand how this works—”

“Silence!”

“No! Who do you think you are? What do you think you’re supposed to mean to me? I don’t even know you. I don’t want to be here, and you’re expecting me to perform the Returning!”

That felt like a rather low blow. When I had so foolishly thought today would be our Returning, that today I would be free of this curse, free of this veil, free of… I was blinded by these feelings I had for her. Feelings I never asked for. I pounded the table with both of my fists. “Was it not you who first sought me out?”

She flung her hands around her wildly. “Not for this! I never asked to be your goddess! I just wanted—” She stopped suddenly.

I knew what she had wanted. “You wished to free your friend so you could steal him from his goddess.” I summoned the nearest servants, and they went to her side, escorting her by the arms. I could not look at her. I could not stop my heart from pounding. It was maddening. She had not asked to be my goddess? I had not asked for it to be her. I was so tired of this. Of hope. Of everything. “How unfortunate that I was unable to help you with such a generous act.”

I would have to show her. There seemed to be no other way to win her love, to get this wretched existence over with. I moved toward the doorway, knowing my servants would step in to protect my face from her if she did not think to stop them. They did, wrapping my veil over my head, pinning it at my shoulder and placing my hat atop it before I appeared around the other side of the curtain.

Now the whole world was veiled to me, but that was the price I had to pay for movement around the eyes of one who would not love me.

I exited the room first, leading the way. “Come with me!” I heard her struggling to escape from my servants’ escort behind me, but I did not hesitate.

“Stop!” she screamed.

I stopped. I had no choice. There was such power and anger in that one word.

“Let me—”

She could kill me, if I let her.

“Silence her!” I ordered, and one of the servants holding her produced a piece of the veil material from his pocket and wrapped it around her mouth. She stared at me as it happened, and it was as if she were studying the veil keeping me from her, keeping her forever in a haze before my eyes, looking for a rip through which she could send me to my death.

The look pained me. My whole body hurt.

I walked forward again. I had stopped when she had asked me to stop, after all. I was under no obligation to stay that way.

My legs throbbed with the effort it took to move forward, knowing as I did, beneath my conscious thought, I was disobeying her desire.

Stop her from speaking, and I will not have to hear of her desire. Let me show her that she is not the only one here with desires. Let me show her that she has a reason to be grateful to me. Let me show her the gift I would have happily bestowed upon her today, if she had been willing to perform the Returning.

About Amy:

Amy McNulty is a freelance writer and editor from Wisconsin with an honors degree in English. She was first published in a national scholarly journal (The Concord Review) while in high school and currently spends her days alternatively writing on business and marketing topics and primarily crafting stories with dastardly villains and antiheroes set in fantastical medieval settings.

Connect with the Author:  Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Giveaway Details:

Five (5) winners will receive a digital copy of Nobody's Goddess (The Never Veil #1) by Amy McNulty (INT)

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