Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 133
April 21, 2021
The shadows are speaking, Death is waiting - Shadowspeak by Raven Eckman #VikingLegend #NorseMyth #Fantasy
Once there was a girl who spoke to shadows…
ShadowspeakRaven Eckman
Book Description
Rune’s mother is uncaring and her brother is too young to protect her, so when Rune’s father sells her to the depraved city of Wraith at the young age of ten, no one stops him. His last words to her are of a debt he cannot pay. The shadows who’ve kept Rune company as long as she can remember seem to know what he speaks of and yet they keep their silence.
And so Rune grows up living in servitude to Wraith’s brothel and its manipulative mistress, Agata, all while having only the faintest recollections of her forgotten childhood. Years later when she finally escapes Wraith, a wild place wrapped up in hedonism and old world ritual, she vows to never return…
When a child prince is kidnapped by a masked killer in a neighboring kingdom, however, Rune no longer has a choice. Joined by Weylin, her old love and a fellow Wraith runaway, she returns to the accursed city and the shadows of her past. Not all is as it seems as threads of memory begin to unravel, revealing old lies and dark secrets. The debt of her past may be too high to pay.
The shadows are speaking. Death is waiting.
https://raveneckman.com/
eBook https://amzn.to/3uL732c
Paperback https://amzn.to/3aqVwxF
#Fantasy #NorseMythology #NordicMythology #NordicLegends #Mythology #NorseFantasy #NewAdult #NewAdultFantasy #NA
A Bewitching Wednesday
Apocalipstick: Hell in a Handbag Series Book One by Lisa Acerbo
https://www.instagram.com/p/CN7IM6OpO9C/
Book Series Spotlight & #Giveaway ~ Karma Series by Laura Simmons @LauraSimmons37 ~ Reincarnation/Paranormal Romance #PNR Supernatural Thriller https://saphsbooks.blogspot.com/2021/...
The Liminal Chronicles by Amy Winters-Voss #UrbanFantasy #JapaneseMythology
https://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com...
Kindle Freebie April 21- 25
Saving her homeland will cost everything, including her heart.
The Death Sparrow’s Shadow: The Assassin of Acreage Book 1 by R. L. McIntyre
Free at https://amzn.to/2QJoWzH
#darkfantasy #NA #fantasy #indieauthors #booklovers #indiefantasy #FreeBook
The shadows are speaking. Death is waiting.
Shadowspeak by Raven Eckman
eBook https://amzn.to/3uL732c
Paperback https://amzn.to/3aqVwxF
#Fantasy #NorseMythology #NordicMythology #NordicLegends #Mythology #NorseFantasy #NewAdult #NewAdultFantasy #NA
April 20, 2021
The Liminal Chronicles by Amy Winters-Voss #UrbanFantasy #JapaneseMythology
The Liminal Chronicles
Book OneAmy Winters-Voss
Genre: Urban fantasy and Japanese Mythology Publisher: Shy Red Fox PublishingDate of Publication: April 30, 2021ISBN: 978-1-7366720-0-6ISBN: 978-1-7366720-1-3 ASIN:B08WTK6XWPNumber of pages:312Word Count: 97,000Cover Artist: Odette.A.Bach
Tagline: A myth come to life may be worth far more than his freedom.
Book Description:
Will a former gangster dare to protect the elderly woman who antagonizes him? He must choose between breaking a promise to his parole officer or the old lady. Each choice carries a hefty price.
Umeji Tatsuya moves from Tokyo to a small town after leaving the yakuza, the Japanese mob. He knows all too well that his past can't stay buried.
‘Once Yakuza, always Yakuza. The tattoos mark you for life.’
Nakamura Hisako, the town’s beloved dowager, learns about Umeji’s past and tries to oust him, but Umeji just discovered her own long-held secret. If he keeps it for her, the cost is his recently regained freedom. If he doesn’t, Nakamura might have to leave her home, and he risks angering forces he barely understands… and barely believes in.
As the mundane and Spirit Realm intertwine, so do the modern-day and the Pre-Meiji eras. Centuries-old rivalries flare up again, and the past returns in the present. Umeji’s second chance is only the first step of his journey to discover myth, social redemption, and found family.
Rise is the first book in the Liminal Chronicles series.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/I2YoMKWt4IQ
Mid-November
Kneeling to stock the low shelves at TaniMart makes my knees ache. Though I’ll give no complaint. I’m lucky to have this job, even if it’s mind-numbing. Someday, I’ll have my own business. Right now? I have to save up since the feds took every yen of my savings when they threw me in the slammer.
Pain shoots through my forearm as something bounces off. Crash! Years of fight-or-flight reflex have me jumping to a defensive stance. What the…
Shattered glass and pickled plums litter the polished floor. Reflections of the overhead lights glare at me in the puddles of brine. Then the green, spicy scent of shiso hits my nose. Breathe, Umeji. It wasn’t an attack.
“Sorry, Mister!” The boy and his mom bow.
“I’ll clean it up. Please, finish your shopping.” When I reach to pick up the remaining shards, my heart sinks as the distinctive blue-black wave and red maple leaf designs of my tattoo sleeve show through the transparent wet fabric of my shirt. Despite the deafening silence, the hint of the ink that marks my past wails like a siren, warning all in my vicinity. Why the hell does our uniform have to include a white shirt?
Eyes with huge black pupils are framed by the woman’s ashen face. She hunches, tensed as if ready to run. Backing away, she wrenches her son along in a white-knuckled grip.
My hand crushes the shards in my palm as heat fills my core. Only when she’s out of sight does my head hang.
When I report the injury to Satou, my volunteer parole officer and boss, he drives me to the doctor to get stitches in my hand. He made me promise not to lie to him when he took me on as a parolee, so I fess up the cut wasn’t an accident. It was that or punch something.
I opt for the hour walk home, then he doesn’t have to waste any more time on me. So much for blending in. My attempts to ditch the Tokyo accent are probably worthless now. Satou said there are fewer than 1,300 people in Nonogawa, so everyone in town will know by tomorrow. Something in the mix of traditional and modern housing looks less friendly than it did at first. Letting the old swagger back into my step lacks the feeling of control it used to give.
My insides continue to twist as I wait for my boss to return home. Tomorrow’s gonna suck. Might as well get in a good soak to relax, instead of pacing. I’d place good money down that Satou picked this old traditional house based on the big wooden tub. When I can afford my own place, a good bath will be a priority for me, too.
It’s been years since I had daily access to one of the most relaxing aspects of Japanese culture. First, because of my jail sentence. Second, most public bathhouses ban gangsters. They say our ink threatens. The previous generations won’t forget the yakuza heydays, and sporting ink was part of the tough guy act.
Naked and settling onto the low wooden stool beside the tub, I scrub and fill the bucket at my feet to rinse off. I could use a shave. Should I ditch the mustache to fit in better? It covers the knife fight scar. So either way, I don’t fit the norm. Shit.
With a slam, I flip the small hanging mirror over. Don’t want to see the reflection that stared back. Before everyone knew I had been a mobster, could they tell I was just trying not to stick out?
Splashing water on my face rinses away the questions. Despite the chill of the tile floor on my feet, I revel in not having to hurry as I scrub and rinse. Damn, it’s good to not have the prison guards timing me anymore. My chin-length hair needs some attention, but I don’t have the cash for a trim. It was used up after the incident to pick up a dark long-sleeve T-shirt to go under my work’s white button-up. I was lucky the prison didn’t make me get a buzz cut. Most do.
Finally, I slide into the tub. A hiss escapes my mouth as the fire-heated water contacts my chilled skin. The tattooed kitsune frolicking in their traditional designs over my shoulders and back seem to enjoy the warmth, too. Soon the heat seeps into stiff muscles, and I lean on the edge, soaking it in.
Satou said the community is hard to break into. So, I’ve got to avoid sticking out any more than I already do. In a small town, once you’re known for something, it’s never forgotten. With a determination to focus on one day at a time, I sink deeper into the water.
Created with Sketch.
On my next shift, whispers and side glances greet me. The yakuza taint broadcasts its presence stronger than the stench of diarrhea. Everyone gives me a wide berth. Not even a week in town and I’m an outcast again. The only way out is hard work and humility. I will endure.
The mom returns just before my shift ends. She avoids the aisle I’m stocking, but her little boy points, announcing, “Mama! There’s the guy with the tattoos!”
Her shushing causes him to insist all the louder. Focus on the task at hand, Umeji. I force myself to look away as she lugs him out of the building.
That’s the moment Satou’s elderly aunt gives me the stink eye. Shuffling up, she waggles a crooked, accusing finger right in front of my nose, causing me to back into the shelves and knock several plastic tubes of mayo on the floor.
“Get your head out of the sand, boy. Don’t bother playing stupid. You saw that. I advised my nephew not to take in a stray like you. To make things worse, yesterday I heard you’re covered in irezumi tattoos. Nonogawa may be in the sticks, but we all know what that means here.”
I blink. Why’s she so aggressive? Aren’t little old ladies supposed to be sweet and polite?
“Well? Are you?” she presses.
While I deserve the disdain, why is this woman putting down her family in public? “Ma’am, the community respects Satou-san. I’ll do my best for his sake.”
She draws out the syllables. “You dodged.” As she crosses her arms, her sharp eyes shift to a predatory glint. “If you won’t answer, roll up your sleeve. I know yakuza ink when I see it.”
My head swivels. Satou, where are you? Make your vicious aunt heel. I don’t wanna do something stupid, because she’s really making my hackles raise. “Ma’am?”
In the mob, I was good at remembering names, because the alternative could be costly. What did my VPO say her name was? Oh yeah—Nakamura Hisako, the town’s beloved matriarch. As part of the Hiragi clan in Tokyo, I would have never let a little old lady corner me or make my palms sweat. But I’m caught flat-footed because I can’t use any of the in-your-face phrases that bubble up to get her to lay off. I haven’t done a damned thing to her. What gives?
I take a breath. No attitude. “Nakamura-sama, it’s becoming more common in the cities. People keep ‘em out of sight to avoid the stigma.”
As if I’ll tell this biddy the full truth. Later, I can scream rebellion in gokudou drawl all I want. But her outburst is the proverbial piano hanging overhead, threatening to crash down on the little hope I have in this town.
At twenty-four, I should have a high school diploma and a college degree or employment experience. This is my only chance. Suck it up, Umeji. So, I bow deep. “I apologize that my tattoos offend. If I could turn back time, I’d not have done it. How may I help you?”
Harrumphing, she turns on her heel with the grace of a ballerina. How does an old lady move that fast?
When I finish stocking, I grab my baseball-style jacket with its embroidered fox on black and gold silk and beeline it to Satou. Just my luck, his aunt beats me there. Don’t look cocky.
I wait behind her and examine my shoes. Faint reflections of fluorescent lights show on the tile floor.
“That tattooed punk is bad for business.” She points, doubtless aware of how rude she’s being. “He dares to flaunt his past wearing that rebel jacket, instead of considering this store’s reputation. I’ve heard all manner of rumors. Mark my words, Kazuo, people will stop shopping here.” Full-to-the-brim grocery bags strain her arthritic knuckles.
While Nakamura’s concern is understandable, does she care that this ‘rebel jacket’ is the only one I own? I was fortunate someone dropped it by the penitentiary after emptying my apartment. My fists clench, pulling on the stitches from yesterday’s wound. Why does this town love her, anyway?
Satou clears his throat and tilts his nose toward me. “Aunt, tattoos or not, he’s being much more polite than you. I’ve never seen you in such a state.”
Umeji, the mob taught you the tenants of bushido. The honorable way of the warrior. It’s one of the few things I can carry over from the yakuza. Give it your all. My voice almost cuts out as I ask, “Nakamura-sama, may I carry your groceries?”
She grumbles, lumbering off. Where’s the grace she had?
“Aunt Hisako is opinionated and protective of our community. But she’s almost always reasonable. Wish I knew what got her undies in a bundle.” With a raised eyebrow, Satou says, “You rendered her speechless. That’s quite the feat.”
Shoving my arms into the sleeves ruthlessly, I shrug on my coat.
“It’ll be ok, Umeji-san. FYI, I need to stay late, but you can wait in the break room.”
Most days I remain beyond my assigned hours to assist with the day’s tasks. Every dutiful employee does. But I mumble, “I’ll walk.”
“Suit yourself.”
In the parking lot, a shitzu puppy breaks loose from its owner’s grasp. The mutt charges for Nakamura as it barks its head off to warn of an intruder in its domain. Nakamura, calm as a windless day, lifts her index finger toward the potential attacker, halting it in its tracks.
The owner scoops up the stiff, silent pet and bobs. “I’m so sorry, Nakamura-san! I can’t imagine what little Taro-chan was thinking.”
“Thank you for catching him. I think he intended to bite my leg off. Didn’t you, pup?” Satou’s aunt flashes a wry smile that must have created most of the lines in her wrinkled face. It causes the other woman’s eyes to widen in horror. She bows again, scurrying off.
Unperturbed, Nakamura sets her groceries in her red Nissan sedan. But a can drops and rolls, causing her to mutter under her breath.
Here we go again! Scooping it up before it’s flattened under a moving van and jogging over, I hold it out in my hands—a peace offering. Her lips purse and she snatches the item as if my touch might poison the food inside.
Fine. If this is a war of attrition, I’ll fight it to show regret for what I’ve done.
Mid-afternoon, I’m almost to the house. Strolling through the forested farmland, sunshine and the warm, late fall day breathes life into me again. The dense, fiery landscape of reds, oranges, and yellows set off by the evergreens of bamboo, cedar and cypress has me grabbing for my cellphone. I’d seen parks like this, but not horizon to horizon beauty. Then my shoulders sag. The damn feds took my cell, too.
Compared to the compacted cityscape I’d grown up with, the open farmland leaves me exposed. Tall buildings always surrounded and protected me before I came here. A weight fills my chest. Despite being in the middle of nowhere for a week, I keep half expecting to see some tall structure around the next bend. Out of habit, I shove my hands in my pockets to fiddle with the dog-eared collection of Japanese myths. My breathing slows upon contact with the book from my father. The one connection I have left with him.
A glint of vermilion in the trees stands out even in the bright foliage beyond the rice field, so I squint against the sun to get a better look. Beckoning me, a path leads through the paddies and over the river to a torii gate.
My mob leader insisted our clan appear to be dedicated followers, though I only ran through the motions to appease him. Shoving belief into a shoebox in my mind, I labeled it as ‘Umeji’s too unclean to deal with this stuff’. That box got pretty damned full.
My stride turns to a jog as I’m greeted by the fox statues with red bibs at the top of the stairs. Pausing for a brief bow at the gate, I bound up, skipping every other step. I shouldn’t run because I’m entering a sacred area. But a tug on my heart invites me to peek at what I’ve avoided so long.
Memories flood in as I climb. When I was a child, my dad would read to me. My favorite stories were of the kitsune. Whether they were the messengers of Inari or the shape-shifting trickster spirits, they fascinated me. Mom also fed my obsession with the mythical animals by buying me a fox mask and taking me to the Ouji Inari shrine to be in the Kitsune Parade when I was ten. After that, I drew foxes on everything and devoured every myth I could find.
When my mob brothers went to get inked, dragging me along, I hoped the artist would agree to my plan. Traditional tattoo artists are picky and may refuse an idea. On top of that, they charge a fortune.
I’d printed a picture of a Meiji era photograph with a man showing off his tats—a nine-tailed fox on each shoulder with them chasing each other, one red with a flame above it and the other white with a scroll in its mouth.
My brethren teased me because kitsune aren’t the typical symbols gangsters pick. They quit when the tattooer was so intrigued he did the initial outlines of the ancient design for free.
At the summit, I follow the dirt path through the foliage to find a squat shrine building that probably never had a lick of paint. Moss covers sections of the tiled roof and footings. Yet, the steps and floor are spotless. A bell and a few crisp white paper ornaments, hanging from the rope that demarcates the spiritual space, decorate the simple place of worship, urging me to pray.
Do I want to open that jam-packed shoebox? My fingers shake. The things I’ve done. The offering coffer makes me look away. I won’t get paid for a while. No coins to throw. Nothing to offer. Coming here was a mistake.
As my fists slide into my coat pockets, there’s a crinkle—the salmon onigiri that was supposed to be my lunch. Unwrapping it releases the scent of the fish, rice, and vinegar, making my stomach growl. I’ve gone without meals before. This time it’s my choice.
With reverence, I place it at the doorway to avoid stepping inside and sullying the building. Then, after a deep bow, two claps, and ringing the bell, I pray. My throat constricts as I dare to voice my request to the kami. “Help me stay on this new path and assist others as Satou-san has me.”
Heading back down the trail, my tally of all the things that could go wrong tomorrow is interrupted by prickles forming on the back of my neck. I’m being watched? A glance behind me doesn’t reveal anyone, but someone is definitely there.
After passing under the torii, I hear a rustling. The tail of a gray fox disappears into the dense foliage. Did it enjoy my meal?My love for the creatures drives me to follow it, but I stop after my first step past the gate. Idiot. I shouldn’t follow superstitions, but years of experience taught me to trust my instincts. The animal is long gone and knows this area. I’d not seen a wild one before. Despite the unease, I hope to spot it again.
About the Author: Amy is a former programmer turned author after her first trip to Japan in 2017. Now she writes Japanese myth-based urban fantasy to reconnect with the country and culture that captured her heart.
She lives in South Dakota with her supportive husband, two wonderful kids, a mellow old cat who adopted the family, and three wily and crazy ferrets.
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A Bewitching Tuesday
INTERVIEW WITH LISA ACERBO (APOCAL'PSTICK) #bewitchingbooktours
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The Liminal Chronicles by Amy Winters-Voss #UrbanFantasy #JapaneseMythology #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/mDLz50EsZ0R
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Whoever possesses the Great Library of the Underworld rules Hell itself & threatens the destiny of both the Heavens & Earth.
The Underworld Library: Hellbrary Book One by Laura Bickle
Free with Kindle Unlimited https://amzn.to/3du2jXU
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The Karma Series by Laura Simmons - Book Tour + Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/3quG50EsYY8
April 19, 2021
Excerpt 3 The Underworld Library by Laura Bickle
The Underworld Library: Hellbrary Book One by Laura Bickle
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Excerpt 3 The Underworld Library by Laura Bickle
Azarr’s head crested the waves, and he gasped for oxygen. The river roared around him, now whitewater, with caps of pale foam cresting the brown waves. He could make out the edge of the shoreline, and little else but the dark sky stretching above him.
He gasped, thinking that he should swim to shore and find his compatriots…
Something grabbed him. Still in the shape of a snake, he wriggled and lashed out to bite, but something—someone—grabbed him just behind his neck, and he was helpless. He was torn away from the sack containing the book, and he found himself staring into the grey eyes of one of the Ker. The Ker smiled with a mouth of serrated teeth.
He thought that the Ker meant to eat him, but he was jammed unceremoniously into a large bottle. He writhed within it as the Ker capped it. He hissed and made to change back into a man and break the glass.
But he couldn’t change back to the shape of a man.
He flopped in the bottle, panicked, as the Ker drew him below the surface of the water. The Ker pulled him down to the quiet floor of the river, where the current did not buffet them. Two more Ker had gathered among the rusty cans, wheels, and bicycles. Maeje sat on one of the bicycles sidesaddle, as if it were a throne. Her hair floated around her head like a cloud, and her eyes glimmered.
The Ker handed her the sack and the bottle. Maeje tucked the sack under her arm and gazed at the bottle. She tapped on it with her webbed fingers.
“That was a very noble try, little snake. But you must understand, I have my own magic over shape and form.” Her voice was clearer underwater than it had been in air; her gills fluttered, and her mouth sounded as if it was full of bells.
“Where are the rest of the people I came with? The librarians?” he demanded, though he knew he was in no position to demand anything of her.
“Ah, little pet.” She shook her head, and her hair drifted lazily in the water. “The river has taken them. You shall not see any of them again.”
A Bewitching Monday
The Liminal Chronicles by Amy Winters-Voss #UrbanFantasy #JapaneseMythology #bewitchingboktours http://ow.ly/IUSh50ErVNG
Darkness Awaits by Jamila A. Stone #UrbanFantasy #LBGTQ #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/b2gj50ErVKQ
Karma Series [Book Tour with Excerpts] #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/jVEn50ErVMf
Darkness Awaits by Jamila A. Stone #UrbanFantasy #LBGTQ #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/tW2T50ErVJX
Whoever possesses the Great Library of the Underworld rules Hell itself
& threatens the destiny of both the Heavens & Earth.
The Underworld Library: Hellbrary Book One by Laura Bickle
Free with Kindle Unlimited https://amzn.to/3du2jXU
#DarkFantasy #FantasyBooks #KindleUnlimited
Darkness Awaits by Jamila A. Stone - Book Tour + Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Harw50ErVIS
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April 16, 2021
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A Bewitching Friday
Author Interview - Darkness Awaits by Jamila A. Stone #UrbanFantasy #LBGTQ #AuthorInterview
https://serenasynn.blogspot.com/2021/...
INTERVIEW WITH AMY WINTER-VOSS (RISE The Liminal Chronicles)
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Apocalipstick: Hell in a Handbag Series Book One by Lisa Acerbo
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Darkness Awaits Virtus Academy Book 2 by Jamila A. Stone ----- Updated with an interview with the Author -----Urban Fantasy, Contemporary Fantasy, LGBTQ - Unexpected secrets stand to change two witches’ lives forever...
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Death moved through the forest in silence.
But the living howled.
The Underworld Library: Hellbrary Book One by Laura Bickle
Free with Kindle Unlimited https://amzn.to/3du2jXU
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The Character's Court: Lisa Acerbo's characters face off + giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/MoLl50EohCs
Karma Series by Laura Simmons
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Darkness Awaits by Jamila A. Stone #UrbanFantasy #LBGTQ
Jamila's Top Ten Favorite Vampires in TV, Movies, and BooksSpike (Buffy)Blade (Blade Movies and Comics)Carlos Rivera (The Vampire Huntress Legend Series by LA Banks)Darla (Buffy and Angel)Angel (Buffy and Angel)Elijah (The Vampire Diaries & The Originals)Damon Salvator (The Vampire Diaries )Aidan Waite (Being Human US)Rebecca Mikealson (The Vampire Diaries & The Originals)Louis de Pointe du Lac (Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice)
Darkness AwaitsVirtus Academy Book 2Jamila A. Stone
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Contemporary Fantasy, LGBTQPublisher: Black Glory Publishing HouseDate of Publication: April 2021ISBN: 978-1-7356641-0-1ASIN: B08LVJ7GXDNumber of pages: 524Word Count: 141,850Cover Artist: Michael CorvinTagline: Unexpected secrets stand to change two witches’ lives forever...Book Description:
Having narrowly survived their last semester, Natalie King and Alexandra Aurelius are prepared to revel in victory...but, while preparing to become Juniors, it soon becomes clear that peace has been dismissed.
Relationships are tested and new ones formed, as shadowy souls push their way into Natalie and Alexandra’s lives. Now, more than ever, the witches must stick together and protect their loved ones. Unexpected secrets stand to change their lives forever.
Darkness impends from every direction, and even the fiercest friendships will be tested. What harmony that existed between human and supernatural governments has been shaken to the breaking point. Should it crumble, hellish truths are sure to be exposed.
Despite impossible odds, Natalie, Alexandra, and their alliances will unite against unprecedented evil. After all, the only exit often is a wall to break through...
--------
With her much-anticipated sequel to Strange Things Await, Jamila A. Stone delivers devilish thrills and a dizzying spin on the genre. One thing through the dark is seen: where mystic and mortal subcultures meld, the pages turn themselves.
Excerpt
It’s the last week of January and the new school semester since Christmas break starts tomorrow at Virtus Academy. Nat and all her friends, except Alex, have already moved back to their dormitories. Nat is brushing her teeth, getting ready for bed when she suddenly feels like she’s falling. A moment later, her surroundings change, and she finds herself in a dark alleyway. Nothing makes sense, and she jolts around with labored breathing, trying to understand what is going on. When she turns around to her other side, she spots Alex and momentarily forgets her anxiety. Running over to a hunched Alex, she hugs her and is so distracted that she doesn’t notice the four guys in the alley with them.
“What are you doing here?” Alex winces in pain, struggling to straighten up.
Using her toothbrush, Nat taps the ring she’s gifted Alex. “Someone must have missed me a whole lot to get me here,” she jokes.
The good news is that the protection spell she had Sheila help her put on the ring works. If Alex ever needs her badly enough, she’ll appear.
“Crap, it worked! So that means…” Nat looks around further and finally takes in the situation. “I guess you’re still having trouble making friends.” Throwing down her toothbrush, she gets in front of Alex, who’s badly bleeding from cuts on her face, and the arm she holds that seems disjointed.
“Nice outfit, girl.” One of the guys speaks sarcastically.
“This is your backup?” Another speaks, pointing at Nat before they all laugh.
“Remind me to take you shopping.” Alex picks up her fallen blade, and it elongates into a sword as it recognizes its owner.
“What!? This is comfortable and my pajamas. I was going to bed.” Nat keeps her eyes on the guys who are starting to approach. She cannot believe Alex is choosing right now to insult her.
“What do you need to be comfortable?” Alex turns fully toward Nat with her face scrunched up. “Did you sprout something since we were kids?”
“No! Can you focus before we die, you asshole? Boxers can be unisex.” She tries to defend herself, but Alex just scoffs.
Nat, annoyed, blasts Alex to the furthest point of the alley and decides to take on the men herself. It looks as if Alex softened them up enough for her to handle alone anyway.
Two of the men reach her before the others. One throws a punch at her face while the other tries to punch her abdomen. Nat is light on her feet and spins away from the one aiming for her face and shoves him into the other male before she uses her magic at the remaining attackers.
“Instead of attacking young women to stroke your egos, maybe you all should go to the gym.” She blasts one with a scar on his cheek into a wall knocking them out before she is blasted herself. In complete shock, she did not keep her guard up, she grumbles as she slowly gets back up to her feet. Nat blocks another blast of magic as she parts her feet for better balance. Nat sends a few blasts back, but her adversary blocks them all. Nat should have known these men were not mere humans if they were able to beat up Alex.
Nat is so preoccupied with the witch that she fails to deflect the attacker on her left properly, who charges her with his clawed hand in the air, ready to come down on her hard. There was little for her to do, so she stopped shielding herself from the witch’s attack, so the attack would knock her away from the attack that would be the deadliest.
The impact of the witch’s attack does the trick and sends Nat backward. The claws of the man from her right give her a nasty gash, nowhere near the damage which would have been inflicted if she did not think quick on her feet and use the witch’s attack to save her own life.
“Alright, playtime is over.” Nat lifts her hands and moves them hastily in front of her creating a linkage of pentagrams all while beads of her blood float into the amber symbols. She sees the shock on the witch’s face, and it makes her grin before she locks her fingers over each other, bends her arms inward, then thrusts her arms out, causing the spell to wrap around the first body, and the man explodes.
Nat moves her arms until everyone is dead. One black eye and a gash on her arm later, Nat walks over to Alex, who is hunched over.
“I should leave you here. I can’t believe you got back without telling me. How long have you been back in town? Tomorrow is the first day of school back from break.” Nat places her hands on her hips, letting Alex suffer for a bit more before she attempts to heal her.
Alex stands straighter, leans her head back against the wall behind her, and closes her eyes. “I forgot how much you love to bitch and moan.”
Nat is opening her mouth to respond, but promptly stops when she spots a smile creeping on Alex’s face.
“I missed it.” Alex turns her head and smiles so charmingly even with her face all beat up, Nat’s walls break.
“Ugh, I can’t stand you.” Nat shakes her head and starts to heal Alex’s easy wounds, then wraps Alex’s good arm over her shoulder and helps her to stand off the wall. “We’re too far from the dorm or my house for me to teleport us both.”
“And here I thought an overachiever such as yourself would have become a pro by now.” Alex coughs then halts her steps taking time to take deep, ragged breaths.
“Hey, that month was our break. I can get us near the school gates, but it might knock us out if I use all of our energy combined. Or worse.” Nat struggles to keep Alex upright.
Alex struggles to stand on her own feet as she pulls her good arm away from Nat so she can grab her cellphone out of her pocket. Nat watches as Alex makes a call, trying to keep her upright by the waist. “Julian, are you on campus? Good, sneak out with Olivia and come find me by the gate…just do as I asked, Olivia, will be able to track us. Yes, us, bye.”
Nat arches a brow at Alex before focusing her mind on the school gates. Once she has that clear in mind, she works on syncing her magic with Alex.
“What’s taking so long?” Alex grumbles.
“You, that’s what. I’m trying to find your source, but you’re too weak.”
“You’re a weirdo.” Alex sighs exaggeratedly.
Nat finally syncs successfully and teleports them. They land hard a few yards away from the school gates.
About the Author:Jamila A Stone lives in Washington, D.C with her two dogs. Jamila is driven to tell stories without censorship and for the continued creativity in the world of literature. As an African American woman, she understands the lack of opportunity persons of color have to let their artistic creativity be seen on equal platforms, so she created her own publishing company called Black Glory Publishing House. She thinks not just of herself but of the current and future of literature namely increasing the diversity and inclusion within the literary community.
https://twitter.com/AuthorJStone
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