Rachael Arsenault's Blog - Posts Tagged "adventure"
SHE WHO RISES excerpt!
SHE WHO RISES, the first book in my upcoming A New Age of Magic series, releases digitally on Amazon on May 14th, 2019!
She Who Rises
Amber Martel just wants to get through her Master’s degree. Or at least make an attempt at it. She’s early into her first semester and is feeling the weight of self-doubt and heartbreak as she tries to organize her thesis and deal with living on her own for the first time. It’s more than enough stress in her 23-year-old life.
A research trip to a natural history museum throws her life into new chaos, however, when she touches a piece of quartz and unleashes an explosion that is destructive, powerful – and magical. Now Amber finds herself in the care of two women, Farida and Masika, who claim to have connections to the origins of magic. They tell Amber that she is special, that magic outside their family is unprecedented, and that she needs to help them.
Amber wants nothing more than to go home, but it soon becomes clear that might not be safe. Strangers attack them with magic they shouldn’t possess, local police are pointing to them as terrorism suspects, and an enemy from the early days of magic has returned – even though he should be long dead.
For those who are curious to read more, I've shared an excerpt of the book below. Enjoy! And please share with anyone else you think will enjoy SHE WHO RISES!
-----
I didn’t recognize where we were as we drove along a pothole-ridden road. Dark evergreens rose up on either side, boxing us in, creating the impression that there was only one direction in the world we could follow. The setting sun was a watchful eye over the road that converged into an inverted V behind us, while an emerging blanket of star-speckled blackness draped overhead.
The drive started out quiet. Masika didn’t strike me as particularly chatty in general, let alone when she was around me, someone she clearly couldn’t wait to be rid of. Farida just seemed glum. Aside from the old blue Pontiac rattling over potholes, it was silent.
Farida eventually switched on the radio and started hopping through stations. A song I didn’t recognize came on and she squealed, turning it up enough to hurt my ears. Masika quickly reached over and turned it down a snatch, but that didn’t stop Farida from singing along excitedly. Her off-key but enthusiastic voice was just belting out the last repetitions of “baby, I’m not over you” when headlights suddenly appeared in the distance, headed toward us.
I frowned. Where had they even come from? Were they driving along with no headlights until they saw us?
“Mut,” Farida said nervously. I could see her hands tighten against the steering wheel, bleaching the skin across her knuckles. “You don’t think…?”
“I highly doubt––”
The other car swerved, turning sideways and stopping on the yellow line. It was partially blocking both lanes.
“Pull over,” Masika said lowly.
“But what if it’s Imani?”
“Pull over.”
“Who’s Imani?” I asked.
Masika shot me a look. “Shut up. Lay down. This is none of your concern.”
None of my concern? If there was someone out to get them, that was my concern as long as I had to be in a car with them! Heart hammering, I dug my phone out of my pocket. I could call the police if things got hairy.
Farida had eased the car over to the shoulder of the road. We all fell silent; I was almost too scared to breath. Time seemed to slow down as the driver-side door opened on the other car. A woman stepped out, caught in the beam of one of our headlights. Her coarse black hair lifted in the slight breeze. I couldn’t make out much other detail except that she had naturally tan skin and full, round cheeks.
“Any chance she’s looking for directions?”
Even Farida ignored my comment, instead getting out of the car and slamming the door. She approached the other woman, who called something out to her. I couldn’t hear what it was – the sound was muffled from being inside the car – but it must have been bad because Farida took an automatic step back. I got my window rolled down a crack just in time to hear Farida ask, “… know that?”
“Is she with you or not? And don’t bother lying.”
“How do you know her?” Farida demanded.
The other woman sighed and shook her head. She raised her hand, a gold band inlaid with a large, pearly jewel glittering on her wrist, and said, “I guess we do this the hard way.”
The air around her flared bright, roiling with colour, before dispersing to reveal –
“What the hell is that?” I squeaked. I glanced at Masika, but her expression was grim rather than disgusted or frightened.
Hissing beside the woman was another woman – sort of. Her upper-half was slender and grey-skinned, her face twisted in a menacing grimace. Nearly-black hair hung limply to her shoulders. She was naked, her sickly skin merging with glittering purple scales at the waist, the lower half of her body serpentine. Her tail ended in a nasty, scorpion-like stinger.
I was still trying to process the image when the serpent-woman lunged, slashing at Farida with clawed fingers. Farida narrowly avoided her, then raised both arms to block another strike. The creature suddenly shrieked in pain as Farida’s arms glowed red.
“That’s my girl,” Masika whispered.
She Who Rises
Amber Martel just wants to get through her Master’s degree. Or at least make an attempt at it. She’s early into her first semester and is feeling the weight of self-doubt and heartbreak as she tries to organize her thesis and deal with living on her own for the first time. It’s more than enough stress in her 23-year-old life.
A research trip to a natural history museum throws her life into new chaos, however, when she touches a piece of quartz and unleashes an explosion that is destructive, powerful – and magical. Now Amber finds herself in the care of two women, Farida and Masika, who claim to have connections to the origins of magic. They tell Amber that she is special, that magic outside their family is unprecedented, and that she needs to help them.
Amber wants nothing more than to go home, but it soon becomes clear that might not be safe. Strangers attack them with magic they shouldn’t possess, local police are pointing to them as terrorism suspects, and an enemy from the early days of magic has returned – even though he should be long dead.
For those who are curious to read more, I've shared an excerpt of the book below. Enjoy! And please share with anyone else you think will enjoy SHE WHO RISES!
-----
I didn’t recognize where we were as we drove along a pothole-ridden road. Dark evergreens rose up on either side, boxing us in, creating the impression that there was only one direction in the world we could follow. The setting sun was a watchful eye over the road that converged into an inverted V behind us, while an emerging blanket of star-speckled blackness draped overhead.
The drive started out quiet. Masika didn’t strike me as particularly chatty in general, let alone when she was around me, someone she clearly couldn’t wait to be rid of. Farida just seemed glum. Aside from the old blue Pontiac rattling over potholes, it was silent.
Farida eventually switched on the radio and started hopping through stations. A song I didn’t recognize came on and she squealed, turning it up enough to hurt my ears. Masika quickly reached over and turned it down a snatch, but that didn’t stop Farida from singing along excitedly. Her off-key but enthusiastic voice was just belting out the last repetitions of “baby, I’m not over you” when headlights suddenly appeared in the distance, headed toward us.
I frowned. Where had they even come from? Were they driving along with no headlights until they saw us?
“Mut,” Farida said nervously. I could see her hands tighten against the steering wheel, bleaching the skin across her knuckles. “You don’t think…?”
“I highly doubt––”
The other car swerved, turning sideways and stopping on the yellow line. It was partially blocking both lanes.
“Pull over,” Masika said lowly.
“But what if it’s Imani?”
“Pull over.”
“Who’s Imani?” I asked.
Masika shot me a look. “Shut up. Lay down. This is none of your concern.”
None of my concern? If there was someone out to get them, that was my concern as long as I had to be in a car with them! Heart hammering, I dug my phone out of my pocket. I could call the police if things got hairy.
Farida had eased the car over to the shoulder of the road. We all fell silent; I was almost too scared to breath. Time seemed to slow down as the driver-side door opened on the other car. A woman stepped out, caught in the beam of one of our headlights. Her coarse black hair lifted in the slight breeze. I couldn’t make out much other detail except that she had naturally tan skin and full, round cheeks.
“Any chance she’s looking for directions?”
Even Farida ignored my comment, instead getting out of the car and slamming the door. She approached the other woman, who called something out to her. I couldn’t hear what it was – the sound was muffled from being inside the car – but it must have been bad because Farida took an automatic step back. I got my window rolled down a crack just in time to hear Farida ask, “… know that?”
“Is she with you or not? And don’t bother lying.”
“How do you know her?” Farida demanded.
The other woman sighed and shook her head. She raised her hand, a gold band inlaid with a large, pearly jewel glittering on her wrist, and said, “I guess we do this the hard way.”
The air around her flared bright, roiling with colour, before dispersing to reveal –
“What the hell is that?” I squeaked. I glanced at Masika, but her expression was grim rather than disgusted or frightened.
Hissing beside the woman was another woman – sort of. Her upper-half was slender and grey-skinned, her face twisted in a menacing grimace. Nearly-black hair hung limply to her shoulders. She was naked, her sickly skin merging with glittering purple scales at the waist, the lower half of her body serpentine. Her tail ended in a nasty, scorpion-like stinger.
I was still trying to process the image when the serpent-woman lunged, slashing at Farida with clawed fingers. Farida narrowly avoided her, then raised both arms to block another strike. The creature suddenly shrieked in pain as Farida’s arms glowed red.
“That’s my girl,” Masika whispered.
