One last post for Love & Magic Week! Here's a sneak peek, with some romance and magic, into Bad Hunting, Book 2 of Daughter of the Wildings (first draft) (this is in the aftermath of a harrowing battle, and something has happened that's going to make things even worse for Lainie and Silas): “I’m sorry,” she wept. “You got yourself stuck with me, and now you’re in trouble--” “Lainie, darlin’--” “It’s all my fault. You had to--” “Lainie, look at me.” Sniffling, tears running, she looked across the shallow cave at Silas. Blue light danced in his left hand. “I’m a mage, Lainie. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.” “But--” “I could have sent for someone to come and take you back to Granadaia if I didn’t want to deal with you myself. I didn’t have to try to think of another way. I didn’t have to hang around Bitterbush Springs after we were done with Carden, trying to think of what to do with you and worrying about if you would be okay. And do you really think that your Pa could have forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do?” “I...” She looked at the mage light in his hand. Sometimes she forgot exactly what and who he was--what and who she was dealing with. Even after a couple of months together, even knowing what she was capable of, the thought still frightened her. “No, I don’t think he could have.” “I’m in this with you because I want to be. I wouldn’t have turned you over to the schools in Granadaia, to be chewed up and spit out or turned into something you’re not. And I wouldn’t have dishonored you in your father’s eyes--at least not any more than I already had--by taking you away with me unmarried.” “Is that the only reason why you married me?” she asked, feeling very small and not sure she wanted to hear the answer. He might not have been forced to marry her against his will, but she also didn’t want it to only be out of a sense of obligation. “Why do you think those other things mattered so much to me? I love you.” He had said it many times before, but she had never been quite sure whether or not to let herself believe him. “Why?” He gave a brief laugh. “Too many questions, darlin’. I’m starting to run out of answers. Why do I love you? Because... Because. I can’t not love you, that’s why.”
2 Comments
Love & Magic Week continues! Here's a magic lesson with Roric and Perarre from The Lost Book of Anggird: “All right, then. I’m ready,” Perarre said. “Let’s get this over with.” He positioned himself behind her and took her hands in his. She was tense and trembling. “Breathe deeply and slowly,” he said, shaking her hands to loosen them up along with his own. “The most important thing is to not fight it. Be aware of it, the heat, the colors, the nature of fire, but don’t let it have power over you. Do you understand what I mean?” “Yes,” she said uncertainly. “Remember what I told you,” he said. He kept up a soothing murmur, reminding her of the things he had told her, trying to encourage both of them as he moved their hands towards the fire. Each time he felt the slightest hesitation or tension in her arms, he stopped and helped her relax again. “Would I be doing this with you if I thought you would get hurt?” he asked. She looked up at him. “Oh, Roric, I’m sorry. This has to be even harder for you than it is for me.” “It’s not as hard as it looks.” He hoped he sounded at least somewhat convincing. “Just let the warmth — not so hot as to burn, just warm — just let it flow around you… It helps a great deal if you close your eyes.” She closed her eyes. Roric tried to make himself keep his own eyes open, but finally he couldn’t watch any longer. Keeping up his encouraging words, he slowly extended their arms, bringing their hands closer to the fire and then into the dancing energy and distant warmth of the flames themselves. The Lost Book of Anggird is available at:
Amazon | Apple | Diesel Smashwords | CreateSpace All Romance eBooks After this, Sevry ignored everything else he saw, all his attention focused on watching for the girl to reappear. The next time he saw her, she looked like she was fifteen or sixteen years old. She was in the same place as before, crouching next to some plants by the path. She looked around at him, then stood, her hand going to the sparkling pendant she wore. She opened her mouth as though about to say something, then cocked her head, as though hearing someone calling her from a distance. As she turned to hurry away, she waved at him. Again he sought for her, and again he saw her, standing on the hillside path, holding a wide, shallow basket with both hands, and facing him, almost as though she had expected to see him. She was fully grown now, perhaps twenty years old. Sevry noticed the neckline of her pale green dress first; he couldn’t help it, any man would have. The dress was cut low, exposing a generous amount of fair, full, lightly freckled bosom. Then, for the first time, Sevry saw the object that dangled from a fine silver chain around her neck, resting just above the cleft between her breasts: a small crystal vial, crafted in a style that had been lost when Savaru was destroyed. Savarunan crystal. And, Sevry now realized, despite the red hair, green eyes, and softly rounded features, the young woman had a fine-boned Savarunan face. She could only be the granddaughter or great-granddaughter of Juzeva and the red-haired Madrinan prince. Sevry stepped towards the young woman, and into nothingness. Available at:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Sony | Diesel Smashwords | CreateSpace | All Romance eBooks Here's a peek at a romantic moment in Chosen of Azara: “Lucie, you have to decide now. What will you do?” His voice was quiet but firm. “I can’t go with you. Don’t you understand that? I’m to be married in six weeks!” “If we traveled quickly, you could be back here by then.” Lucie gave a despairing laugh. She was tired of trying to explain herself to him—and to herself. “And do you think Estefan would still want me then? He’s already jealous, and that was just because I was talking to you. What do you think he would do if I disappeared with you for a month and a half? A broken engagement would be the least of my problems!” “Has he threatened you?” A dangerous edge entered his voice. It would be too humiliating to admit that she was afraid of her own fiancé. “No, he’s just very angry. But don’t you see? If I leave with you, I would be cutting myself off from my family and friends, I would have no home to come back to, no one who cared about me. No one would want me. My life would be over.” She tried to turn away, but Sevry caught her arm and she couldn’t pull free. “Lucie—” “Don’t you understand what you’re asking of me? What I would have to give up? What I’d lose?” “I know, Lucie. Believe me, I know what it’s like to lose everything.” She looked up at him, and caught her breath at the genuine sorrow and compassion on his face. “Fate, the gods, history, other people’s decisions can all leave our lives in ruins, and there’s nothing we can do about it,” he said. “I wish your family wouldn’t choose to deal so harshly with you. I wish their love and concern for you was more steadfast. If I could—” He stopped speaking and stepped closer to her. She was powerless to move away. His free hand brushed her cheek, as though he was trying to comfort her, then moved to the back of her head, tangling in her hair. He tilted her face up towards his, and his mouth pressed down on hers. As part of Love & Magic Week, Chosen of Azara is on sale at a special low price through Feb. 16:
Amazon | Smashwords (coupon code ZU89J) Valentine's Day is coming up, and so is my one-year publishing anniversary! (Urdaisunia was published on Feb. 9, 2013) To celebrate, I'll be having a special week of love and magic here on the site, Feb. 9-16. Here's what I have planned so far:
And to kick things off, here's a romantic moment (with a little magic) from Urdaisunia: (this scene happens right after this part) He pulled her into his arms again. “No matter what else happens,” he said against her hair, “if you’re safe, then that’s something that’s right with the world.” He was her enemy; he was the man who had sacrificed part of his soul to try to protect her people. And now he was endangering himself to bring her this warning. Rashali pushed back a rush of emotion that made her want to lose herself in his arms and forget everything else. “I’ll warn Kefel, or try to. In truth, he only hears what he wants to hear. Now let me warn you—That drunken Sazar by the bar is one of your uncle’s spies. I knew you, even with the salik. If he recognized you, and notices that we’ve both left the tavern…” Eruz’s back stiffened. “Damn. He came in right after me—he must have followed me in. I have to get back to Zir before my father hears about this.” He pulled away from her just enough to close his hand around the dolphin pendant that lay against the bodice of her dress. He spoke softly, then breathed on the pendant, briefly fogging the silver. “If ever you need to contact me, for any reason, hold onto that and think of me, then send your message. Be careful not to let anyone else get hold of it, or find out what it is.” She believed it would work; she had seen him use Sazar magic. “Can you contact me, too?” “No. The token has to be prepared by the person it’s meant to contact. It’s not difficult to make one, but I don’t have time to teach you now.” Still holding the pendant, he bent his head down and kissed her deeply, hungrily, as though he was a starving man and she was his banquet. The world around them disappeared, and Rashali clung to him, the only solid, real thing she knew. Too soon, he pulled away from her. “I have to leave now. The gods watch over you.” “The gods watch over you, too.” There was more she wanted to say, but before she could put it into words, he disappeared into the dark tangle of alleys. Urdaisunia, available at:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Sony | Diesel Smashwords | CreateSpace | All Romance Ebooks Sneak Peek Sundays are now on Saturday; the idea is that I'm going to take all day Sunday off and focus on other things. This week's sneak peek is into The Path of Latan the Clerk. Here, Latan's bodyguard, Haveshi Yellowcrow (from last week's sneak peek), makes something very clear: With his morning hygiene and grooming completed, Latan went over to the fire where the male guards were eating breakfast. Jokun dished up a pile of meat and onion hash onto a tin plate and handed it to him. As he ate, Haveshi Yellowcrow emerged from the woods and sat down by the fire. Instead of eating, she took a small mirror out of a pouch she was carrying, along with a dark stick, and began applying a black line around her eyes. When that was finished, she took out a small ceramic pot, opened it and dipped a fingertip in it, and applied a red substance to her lips. As she put the small pot of lip color back in her pouch, she glanced over at Latan and met his eyes. His face flamed at having been caught staring. He was sworn to celibacy in the service of a Source, and had no business being so fascinated by the sight of a woman putting on cosmetics. Besides, it was rude to stare. “You’ve never seen someone putting on makeup before?” she asked. “I, well, no,” he stammered. “I just, it surprised me that a woman in your situation would bother with such things.” “Just because I have a man’s job and a man’s skills doesn’t mean I have to look like a man.” “Ah, well, no, of course not.” Then curiosity led him on. “Don’t you worry, being that you look so obviously like a woman, that someone might try something, er, untoward?” He barely even saw her move. In an instant she was behind him, one arm around his neck in a chokehold, the other pressing the sharp edge of a knife to his throat. “No one,” she said in a low voice in his ear, “tries anything unless I want him to.” The Warrior and The Holy Man, containing "The Path of Haveshi Yellowcrow" and "The Path of Latan the Clerk," is available for Kindle from Amazon.
Here's a peek inside my Estelend short story, "The Path of Haveshi Yellowcrow": The morning sun grew higher and hotter as the shaman sang. Nervous glances and murmurs were exchanged among the members of the clan; summoning a beast-god was a dangerous business. There was a story that the god of the Bataranisho tribe, a huge female ground-dragon, had once burnt twelve shamans to cinders for summoning her merely to see the size of her eggs. Haveshi wasn’t sure she believed that story — to see the size of a ground-dragon’s eggs, all one had to do was find her nest and look, and the god’s eggs would simply be twice that size — but she still held her breath with everyone else, waiting for Keeaura to arrive. Finally, a great red-gold mountain lion appeared in the gap at the north point of the circle. Haveshi gasped in awe and admiration, as did the rest of the clan members. Keeaura was twice as large as any other mountain lion, and the reddish cast to his pelt glowed like flames in the sun. As the beast-god entered the circle, the shaman continued singing, imploring him to grant wisdom as to the source of the trouble and what was to be done about it. The mountain lion padded on huge paws around the circle several times, first one way and then the other. When he walked past Haveshi and her family, she could see the ripple of powerful muscles beneath his skin and the shimmer of sunlight on his red-gold fur. It made her proud that her tribe had such a magnificent beast as their god, and she was glad that she had made sure that she and her children looked their best for him. As the god continued pacing, admiration slowly turned to nervous tension as the clan members waited to see what he would do. Even ordinary mountain lions were dangerous beasts, and this mountain lion was a god, capable of maiming or killing a full-grown man with a single swipe of his enormous paw and claws as long and sharp as knives. Keeaura padded past Haveshi again, then stopped and turned. Then he stopped again, in front of Haveshi. And growled long and low at her, baring giant, sharp teeth. The Warrior and the Holy Man, containing the stories "The Path of Haveshi Yellowcrow" and "The Path of Latan the Clerk," is available for Kindle at Amazon.
Here's another of my occasional (and hopefully more regular!) Sunday Sneak Peeks. Today, in Chosen of Azara, Sajur Golu, the High Priest of the Madrinan Empire, is up to no good: * * * There was just one matter that Sajur Golu needed to look into before moving forward with his plans, and he had the opportunity to do so as soon as the meeting ended. Princess Juzeva was walking in an inner garden courtyard near the Council chambers while she waited for her husband, who had remained inside to speak to some of the other Councilors. Sajur Golu approached her, his face set in a careful smile. “Good day to you, Your Highness.” She responded with a slight, stiff nod. She was far too polite to ignore him as he suspected she wished to. “I must say, Your Highness,” he said smoothly, “you are looking remarkably well, especially for a Chosen who has been away from her Source for over three months.” The Princess made a slight, involuntary motion with her left hand, towards the crystal Source-token she wore on a chain around her neck, then stopped herself. Sajur Golu kept his expression polite, pleasant, and neutral. “Ah, to be young again. Such marvelous strength and resilience. Good day, Your Highness.” He bowed slightly and walked away, satisfied with what he had learned. Her movement, though almost imperceptible to anyone without his highly developed powers of observation, had confirmed his suspicion that her Source-token held something more than the usual few months’ supply of Source-power. He would have to be sure to get the vial for himself and learn its secrets before he was finished with the Princess. Chosen of Azara is available in ebook and paperback at:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Sony | Diesel Smashwords | CreateSpace | All Romance eBooks Here's another peek inside The Lost Book of Anggird: Perarre catches a cold: Perarre nodded and dropped into her chair at the work table. What had she been expecting, that he would see how sick she was, feel sorry for her, and give her the day off? She shuffled her book and papers and pens around, not quite able to focus her foggy, feverish mind on her work. When she opened the book and tried to read its archaic script, her eyes watered and ached. She dropped her head to the table and covered it with her arms to block out the light. “Miss Tabrano!” The Professor sounded genuinely alarmed. Perarre heard him come around from behind his desk, then she felt a light touch on her face. “You have a fever! Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?” “Can I have the day off so I can die in peace, sir?” she mumbled. “And please don’t fire me.” To her astonishment, instead of firing her, he started gently massaging her temples. Gradually, the pain in her head ebbed away, along with the feverish feeling. The comfort spread to her watery eyes, stuffed-up nose, and burning throat. The Professor’s hands moved to her shoulders, still keeping the same light, slow, rhythmic touch. Then the touch faltered and he stopped. “I apologize for not realizing sooner that you were in distress, and for being unable to provide more relief,” he said. His voice had gone quiet and slightly husky. Perarre raised her head and looked at him. “You can Heal.” “I only achieved an Adequate ranking in Healing. I have some… difficulty with the Balance.” His face was covered with a light sheen of sweat, like it had been the day she stepped on his foot. Of course. Healing was Balanced by pain for the Healer; the Healer had to filter the discomfort and distress taken from the patient out of the magica he had used before allowing the magica to return to its place. Even the small amount of pain that would be brought on by giving mild relief to cold symptoms was probably almost unbearable for the Professor. “Will you be all right, Professor?” He nodded. “It usually passes before very long. I think I’ll go lie down for a bit. You are excused from work until you are well again. Only, Miss Tabrano —” “Yes, sir?” “You do not have my permission to die.” The Lost Book of Anggird is available from:
Amazon | Apple | Diesel Smashwords | CreateSpace All Romance eBooks Here's another peek inside Urdaisunia. Earlier, Rashali and Eruz parted under difficult circumstances, thinking they'd never see each other again, but now their paths unexpectedly cross again: The noise of shouting, laughing, and gambling assaulted Eruz’s ears as he entered the tavern. The smell of wine, burning aksa-weed, fish, and bodies that had been working in the heat all day was almost overwhelming. Smoke from the lamps and torches fogged the room. He made his way across the crowded room to a spot on a bench along one of the walls. No one took any notice of him in his plain tradesman’s clothes and white salik; he also wasn’t the only person in the room who wasn’t Urdai. A small group of Xaxan men sat in one corner, drinking and gambling. Three Kai-Kalle youths in brightly-striped robes laughed and bragged and harassed the Urdai serving girl. An extremely drunk Sazar man stumbled into the tavern and began arguing with the barman, then slumped to the floor in a stupor. Eruz ordered beer from a serving boy; though he usually preferred wine, the wine served in a place like this was likely to be sour and watery, while, it was said, it was impossible to make bad beer from Urdaisunian barley. He slowly nursed his drink while he observed the activity around him. A small group of Urdai came in and went to a low table in a corner that was quieter than the rest of the tavern. A tall, lean Urdai man sat there with a number of other people. He had a quiet, authoritative air, and seemed to listen more than he spoke. Most likely he was the leader of the Nest, or at least high up in the leadership. Seated next to him was-- Eruz blinked to clear his smoke-hazed eyes and looked again. Rashali. Relief and joy surged through him, along with an odd, sudden twist of dislike for the man sitting next to her. Eruz watched as the group that had come into the tavern spoke to him. They seemed to include Rashali in what they said, and the man frequently turned to her, as though asking her advice or opinion before replying. It was almost as though they were partners in running the Nest. Fear quickly overshadowed Eruz’s relief. The Nest was in danger, which meant that Rashali was in danger. He hadn’t known how to deliver his warning—it was unlikely that any Scorpion would listen to a Sazar—but she would listen. He hoped. If she didn’t hate him for what he had done at Three Leaping Fish. Urdaisunia is available in ebook and paperback from:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Sony | Diesel Smashwords | CreateSpace | All Romance Ebooks |
AuthorI am Kyra Halland, author of tales of fantasy, heroism, and romance. Sign up for my email list
My Books
More Books
Click on the covers for more information
Categories
All
Archives
January 2023
Kyra Halland: Welcome to My Worlds is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com.
Other links on this site may also lead to products for which the owner may receive compensation. This website uses marketing and tracking technologies. Opting out of this will opt you out of all cookies, except for those needed to run the website. Note that some products may not work as well without tracking cookies. Opt Out of Cookies |