So with all of this chatter I’ve been making regarding the status of THE WITCH’S EYE, one thing I haven’t come clean on yet is what the heck it’s about.
Since an official blurb is still some time off (I’ll wait until the cover reveal, which will hopefully happen in November), I don’t want to delve into too much detail, but here’s the basic rundown. (It’s actually hard to do this in a “spoiler free” fashion, as we’re into Book 5 — FIVE!!! — but I’ll do my best.)
With Cross’s team scattered to the wind in the wake of the battle at Voth Ra’morg (as detailed in CROWN OF ASH), the survivors have to do everything they can just to make it back to civilization. Unfortunately, fate has other plans, and even as all-out war threatens to brew between the renegade city-state of Koth and the Southern Claw, a deadly new threat appears in the form of the Witchborn: vampires corrupted by dark magic, and as deadly to the Ebon Cities as they are to the human lands.
The next novel in the Blood Skies series will be bold, exciting, and more epic than ever. Enjoy a sneak peek, and stay tuned for more details!
Salt waves crash on the icy shore. Drowning moments held frozen. Everything smothered by a tapestry of dreams.
She hasn’t forgotten. She never will.
The black gate hums like an engine. Rune-cast stones vibrate within the swirling onyx fumes. The broken mirror surface pulses and shimmers like iced glass.
The doorway is about to break. Something vast pushes against the barrier from the other side, some barely contained terror of the night lands.
She watches the moment stretch out. She has to act, because soon it will be too late.
The gate stands in dark stone ruins, in a bowl-shaped valley of smelted hills. Trees have been burned to stumps. Mounds of ash conceal the charred bones of forest beasts.
The six-armed witch snarls and chants at the gate like it has wronged her. Bloody light spills from her eyes and glazes the air. A storm of shadows hovers up above.
The Witch’s Eye pulses. Energies the color of blood and night push away from the artifact. The air is sick from its presence.
A cyclone of white light spirals away from the gate. Dark-skinned vampires with pure white eyes stand entranced by the dance of cold power. Their skin crusts and peels as the necrotic energies that fuel their false bodies leak into the air like smoke serpents. What passes for blood drips from their corpses and stains the ground.
The black gate shakes. Faces press against the glass from the other side, long-dead horrors with bared fangs and dark eyes filled with centuries of hate. She senses the vastness beyond the barrier, the emptiness. Scintilla from a world filled with pain.
This hasn’t happened yet, but she knows it will, and even though the dream is long wiped from her memory by the time she wakes, she carries a sense of desperation with her, a need to prevent something from taking place.
She doesn’t even know who she is. But she knows a storm is coming.
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