Genre: Historical Fantasy
ISBN-13: 978-1492766582
ISBN-10: 1492766585
Number of pages: 375
Word Count: 90,000
Cover Artist: Nathalia Suellen
Book
Description:
The world has long forgotten them, but
their descendants live on, not wholly mortal or god, but something in between…
At the dawn of the sixth century, in the
aftermath of her mother’s brutal execution, Mara Black is forced to flee the
only life she has ever known.
Mara can tell she’s different, but isn't
sure why. After she encounters two mysterious strangers, she discovers her
secret is but a drop in an ocean of many. She is a Dia, a descendant of ancient
gods, and her mother sacrificed herself to protect Mara from their past.
Summoned by an uncle she didn't know
existed, Mara thinks she’s found the family she’s always wanted, and Corbin, a
love she never thought possible. But not everything is as it seems. Her uncle
has other motives for protecting her, and her mentor, Malcolm, becomes so
jealous, he’ll do anything to get what he wants.
When tragedy strikes, and the true
darkness among them comes to light, Mara discovers that sometimes love can give
you everything, and obsession can take it all away. With her powers gone, and
destiny calling, she has to look deep within to find the courage to save
herself. Mara, along with Corbin and her newfound family, must fight to get
back what was taken, or die trying.
Excerpt:
The drums echoed off the
walls as Corbin and Malcolm made their way through the back gates of Moorthrop.
The guards and villagers were gathered near the green, leaving no one to
challenge their entry, or seize their swords.
“We’re too late,” Corbin
said through clenched teeth.
“I can see that,”
Malcolm responded. “How was I supposed to know we wouldn’t make it in time?”
Corbin bit his tongue.
Now was not the time to argue with Malcolm. They had a job to do. As they
weaved through the rows of huts, an old woman called out to them. She sat near
the door of her hovel, her body hunched with age, and a half-woven basket in
her lap. “Here for the execution?” she asked.
Malcolm laughed at the
woman with a sneer and continued on. Corbin stopped and looked at her with a
tilt of his head; the knuckles of her hands were swollen, and appeared
painfully stiff. “Will there be an execution today?” he asked.
She nodded and pointed
to the square. “I never saw in all my life such evil as this. Killin’ folks fer
nothin'.” She gave a disapproving shake of her head and began to fumble with
the basket.
Corbin walked up to her
and dropped a coin in her lap. When she glanced down at it, he took hold of
both her hands. She gasped as the blue light from his fingertips covered her
skin, but in less than a moment he stepped back, and the light vanished.
Blinking in amazement, she examined her hands, her fingers spread out like
wings, healed from the stiffness that crippled them. She moved her fingers up
and down, and then met Corbin’s gaze and asked, “What magic is this?”
Corbin smiled. “I don’t
know what you mean.”
Before the old woman
could respond, he continued towards the green.
He met up with Malcolm
as he approached the edge of the crowd. Malcolm used his energy to move the
onlookers aside. The crowd of people wouldn’t know why they moved or even look
at the two men moving past them. The power of the veil was a gift to their
kind, to protect them from discerning mortal eyes. Most mortals wouldn’t have
noticed Corbin much anyway. He looked almost human. But anyone could see that
Malcolm, with his white hair and fierce gray eyes, was different, unnatural.
The man in the long
black robe bellowed out to the crowd. “By order of King Gerren of the realm of
Dumnonia, we are not to tolerate evil among us.” He pointed his finger at the
accused woman on the platform. Corbin used his keen sight to examine her. She
looked wretched, defeated, and certainly not one of their kind. Could Rowan
have been mistaken?
Corbin turned to
Malcolm. “Are they charging her with witchcraft?”
Malcolm nodded with a smirk.
“It appears that way. Fools. They waste their time looking for witches. They
have no idea what walks amongst them.”
Tammy Farrell grew up in Orangeville,
Ontario Canada where she discovered her love of writing, and all things related
to Edgar Allan Poe. She now lives with her husband and four fur babies in
Greenville, South Carolina, where she teaches pre-GED English and attempts to
learn French when she isn’t busy writing.
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