Hello all, and hope you are well :)
Who would have thought I would have reached a hundred posts on my blog? Certainly not me. Well, this milestone deserves something a bit special.
So, I just thought I would give you a taster from the forthcoming release of 'Stormling' Stormling on June 1st.....There's really too much to draw from with this book, and it's much more involved that my previous work (Dark Winter), but my hope is that my writing has improved and I'm developing the craft in the right direction.
If you get hold of a copy, it would be awesome to know what you think!
Who would have thought I would have reached a hundred posts on my blog? Certainly not me. Well, this milestone deserves something a bit special.
So, I just thought I would give you a taster from the forthcoming release of 'Stormling' Stormling on June 1st.....There's really too much to draw from with this book, and it's much more involved that my previous work (Dark Winter), but my hope is that my writing has improved and I'm developing the craft in the right direction.
If you get hold of a copy, it would be awesome to know what you think!
There will be a few more teasers to come!
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Corianna Ismay was just eight years old when her mother Karina died. Corianna had just one more conversation with her mother before running hard in the direction of Rowse Briar, far from her home of Sirennestria.
“Don’t you cry now, Corianna,” she said sternly, but softened her tone in a way that only a mother could. “Do not let them see you cry. The great powers we possess contain a flaw; our tears let the enemy know where we are. I’m going to be brave, so you have to be too. Just promise me that you will hide your skills, lest the fate that has befallen me befalls you too.”
The young sorceress nodded that she understood completely. “You look beautiful, Mother,” asserted Corianna with a confidence beyond someone of her years.
A simple white tunic hung over Karina’s shoulders, but her hands shook uncontrollably. Her young daughter grabbed her mother’s hands, and steadied them from shaking. “So don’t you be afraid, Mother, then I won’t be, when my time comes.”
Karina picked a maroon coloured cardigan from her dresser, and wrapped herself up in it.
“Your lucky colour, Mother,” beamed Corianna. “I shall not ever wear it, in respect of your memory.”
“That is the very reason you should wear it, my child.”
Bringing her thoughts back to the present moment, there was no presence of a loving daughter, just the cold, uncompromising walls of a prison. Karina pressed her cheeks against the bars of her cell.
“Guard! Let’s not delay this charade any longer. I am ready. Take me to Firetop.”
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