Heather Frost's Blog, page 3

The Sun Will Rise Virtual Tour: Character Interview with Kolby

I'm excited to be a part of the virtual tour for "The Sun Will Rise", by Sarah Hill. This phenomenal book is out on Friday, and I can't wait for the world to experience this story!

Today I'll be interviewing Kolby, the male lead in this powerful story. But before we get to the interview, let me share the blurb and my review.

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The Blurb:

Jordan and Kolby Simon have a beautiful life filled with love, laughter, and friends. The only thing missing is children. All Jordan wants is to have a child. To make her husband a father and to watch his face light up as he holds their baby for the first time. But while their friends have children, nothing ever changes for Jordan and Kolby.

Desperate for results, they seek help from a specialist and begin fertility treatments. But as the negatives continue to show up on her pregnancy tests, Jordan struggles to keep a brave face while inside, her heart is crumbling. The one constant in her life is Kolby. With his constant love and reassurance, Jordan has no choice but to believe that someday, it will be their turn.

Time is not on their side, though. With each passing year, Jordan’s hope for a child diminishes, leaving her to wonder if she’s strong enough to navigate a life with such bitter disappointment and merciless grief. She has to decide if she believes as Kolby does: that they control their happiness, and that--no matter how rough the storm or how dark the night--the sun will indeed rise.

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My Review:

This story is an emotional ride, there's no doubt about that! This is a standalone book and follows our main character, Jordan, and her husband, Kolby, as they battle infertility along with the other highs and lows of life. The author navigates the the varied emotions that come with infertility with sensitivity, compassion, and a vulnerability that instantly drew me in.

There are so many powerful scenes in this story, and whether you struggle with infertility or not, this book will leave a mark on you. There was laugher, and there were tears. There was heart-breaking despair, and overpowering love. I couldn't put it down. This book will stay with you long after you finish it!

Sarah Hill is definitely an author to watch! Her writing is beautiful, and she knows how to tell an emotional story without ever feeling heavy-handed. While this type of story isn't my usual genre, the author drew me in with her masterful storytelling.

I can't wait to read what Sarah writes next!

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The Interview:

Kolby is one of my favorite parts of the book, so I leapt at the chance to get to interview him. Kolby, thank you for taking the time to stop by and answer some of my burning questions! Why don’t you start by introducing yourself?

Thank you for inviting me, it was unexpected. As you know, I’m Kolby Simon, married to the beautiful Jordan Simon who is not only the star of this book but the center of my heart. Nobody’s life is perfect, but in my eyes Jordan and I live one pretty close to it. We work hard and we make sure we enjoy life, whether it be camping and exploring or just relaxing by the fire. I live by the rule that happiness can be found anywhere if you ignore the crazy going on and concentrate on what is right in front of you.

Have you always lived in Idaho?

I was born and raised here, with the exception of the small camping stint my parents took us on when we lived in a trailer out by Lake Mead near Las Vegas. Maybe that’s why I love camping so much.

What is a special talent or skill you have?

I don’t know that I have any special talents or skills. I know my way around a car motor, so I guess that’s handy and I know how to love hard.

What is your favorite holiday, and why?

Halloween. I’m a big overgrown kid. If I get the chance to dress up and act five, I’m taking that chance!

What is your favorite color?

Most days it’s Charcoal Gray, but other days it’s Navy Blue.

What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?

Huckleberry, baby! If you haven’t tried it, you should! In fact, I’ll take you to get some.

Um, YES! Thank you for the kind offer! Ok, do you prefer tacos or pizza?

I would eat tacos every single night if I could.

Pie or cake?

I’m a cake guy, specifically yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Jordan surprised me on our wedding day and had our cake made with yellow batter and chocolate frosting. The most beautiful wedding cake I’ve ever seen.

When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I never really thought about it like other people do. I know we are supposed to all have these great dreams, but all I ever wanted was to be happy.

What do you do for work?

I’m a delivery driver. I deliver anything having to do with cars, from motors and doors to brake lights and bumpers.

Who is your hero?

I have two. My wife because she made me realize love exists in more than just books. My little sister, because she’s believed in me longer than anyone alive and I’m thankful she pounded that belief into me.

I know you love camping. Have you always enjoyed it? Can you tell us anything about your first camping trip?

My first trip, which some may not consider a real trip since we lived there for months, was at Lake Mead. My parents pulled a tiny Shasta trailer into the KOA and we ended up staying. We didn’t have much growing up but I think that brought us closer.

What are three things on your bucket list?

I want to travel to my heart's content, that’s really it. It’s a big one though, so it has to count for at least three, right?

You have a pretty optimistic nature. Have you always been that way, or is it something you worked to develop?

Optimism has always been a part of me. When you grow up with next to nothing and the world is already stacking its bets against you, you learn to look for the positive in everything around you. I’ve found I feel better when I’m laughing and smiling than when I’m not.

I absolutely love you and Jordan as a couple! How did you meet?

It was fate. I was hanging out with my best friend, Figgy. I mean Adam, when he got an SOS call from his wife to come pick her up. She was out on the town with some friends and one of those friends happened to be Jordan who can’t walk in heels to save her life! She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and I wanted to be the man to rescue her from the curb she sat on, holding her twisted ankle

How/when did you know Jordan was the love of your life? How did you propose?

We lived about half an hour apart when we were dating. Jordan came over every Tuesday to make me dinner. She knew I loved pasta, and that I hated vegetables. So she made chicken pasta and threw in some steamed broccoli to prove a point. I knew then that a woman who wasn’t going to conform to what made me happy was the woman I wanted for the rest of my life. And the pasta was pretty amazing too. As for the proposal, you’ll have to read the book to find out. It’s one I’m proud of.

What are three words you would use to describe yourself?

I would say loyal, honest, hard-working

What are three words you would use to describe Jordan?

Strong, empathetic, thoughtful

How do you feel about your story being told?

It’s what Jordan needed and it helped her. So, my hope is that it helps other women, and even men realize they aren’t alone.

Is there anything you would say to others who are also struggling with infertility?

I know it hurts, it makes you feel like a failure, even I felt like I’d failed Jordan. You haven’t failed, it’s something that happens and it sucks. Keep your head held high and enjoy the things you have been given, it helps when you make an effort to focus on what is going right in life. Think about it, a child isn’t going to determine whether or not you’re happy. Lots of men and women out there have children and they aren’t happy. We determine how happy we’re going to be by the way we deal with things.

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Kolby, thank you so much for stopping by!

Ok readers, are you just in love with him? You can get more of Kolby and his awesome wife Jordan in "The Sun Will Rise", which comes out April 29!

Here's the link to preorder on Kindle: ,https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09XC6RVBD

To learn more about Sarah and her books, check out her website: ,https://sarahrylie.wixsite.com/author

Fate of Eyrinthia Characters Sorted Into Hogwarts Houses

I was bored. That was first my reason for this.

But I also love Harry Potter, so it made sense that I needed to figure out which Hogwarts House my Eyrinthia characters fit into!

Some were super easy to sort. Others were a little trickier . . . But in the end they made known their choice of what house they wanted to be in.

So here they are--our Eyrinthia characters broken down by their Hogwarts House!

Gryffindor

Bennick

Clare

Desfan

Wilf

Venn

Ravenclaw

Imara

Cardon

Iris

Carter

Hufflepuff

Mia

Karim

Vera

Dirk

Slytherin

Serene

Razan

Grayson

Liam

Tyrell

Peter

Henri

I probably enjoyed doing this way too much, but I apologize for nothing.

What Hogwarts House are you? Did I miss anyone you wanted to see on the list? Do you agree with my sorting, or what would you change? Let me know in the comments!

Sun & Blood Virtual Tour - Author Interview with Crystal Frost

I’m excited to host a stop on the virtual tour for Sun and Blood (Sentinel Rising #1) by Crystal Frost. (Yes, Frost—she’s my sis-in-law!) I’m going to be interviewing Crystal, but first, here’s the blurb for Sun and Blood, which is the first book in a brand new YA paranormal romance series!

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In a world of wolven, being average can get you killed. Without a wolf spirit of her own, Violet Draven is basically a souped-up human and an easy target. When her twin brother Jax makes enemies with the future alpha from a neighboring clan, she tries to stop him. A concussion sends her to the Sentinel Clan's doctor where the results of her recent tests reveal more than she bargained for. Determined to prove her worth, Violet trains with the best in the clan, but she's still considered a liability. To protect her, Jax orders his best friend to guard Violet, making the fight against her forbidden feelings for her new bodyguard even harder to hide. Meanwhile, retaining control over his wolf is vital if Patrick Cowen is going to keep his past a secret. After losing his family more than three years ago, Patrick found a home in Sentinel Clan and worries about what will happen if anyone gets too close to him. Holding everyone at arms-length is the only way he knows how to protect his new family, but his eighteenth birthday, and first shift, draw near, testing his tenuous control. His combative wolf spirit won't go down without a fight and if Patrick fails, everything he cares for will be lost. Driven by blood lust and the desire for power; rogue, red-eyed wolven begin attacking the clans. Their savagery knows no bounds. They have only one rule.Submit or die.

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About The Author:

Crystal Frost is a transplant, and current resident, to the snow-capped mountains of Utah. When she's not working on her writing, she spends most of her time being a mom to three rambunctious children. She can also be found reading, talking to herself, helping others through fitness, pretending to write, hanging out with her husband, attempting to be an artist, staring at the stars, obsessing over books, Harry Potter, and mugs, and attempting to train her crazy, hyper-excited poodle Merlin.

At nine years old, Crystal was diagnosed with both Scotopic Sensitivity Syndrome (what is now known as Irlen Syndrome) and dyslexia. She was in her adult years before she was able to push past the stigmatisms that follow these learning and neurological disorders. She hopes that her story may inspire others with learning and neurological disorders to chase their dreams. Learn more about Crystal at: www.frostcrystal.com

And now, let's dive into the interview!

Hi Crystal, and welcome! Thanks for taking the time to answer some of my questions.

1. When did you first realize you wanted to be an author?

I’ve always had stories in my head. The earliest memories I have of playing ponies were with these epic tales of adventure that would last through many play sessions. Reading was difficult and oftentimes painful for me. I was diagnosed with Irlen Syndrome and Dyslexia at nine years old and started to learn how to work my neurological and learning disorders. It wasn’t until I had my first set of colored lenses from Irlen Institute that I discovered a love for reading because it didn’t hurt anymore. I had worlds and stories in my head long before that, but it wasn’t until then (and a report on Christopher Paolini) that I realized I wanted to be an author. I wanted to share my stories with the world.

2. Describe yourself in 3 words.

Oh, I’m terrible with this… Let’s see. Loyal. Creative. Stubborn. Haha!

3. If you could only own 5 books for the rest of your life, what would they be?

Heather, are you trying to torture me? First with the 3 words, now with an impossible choice? Oh dear. I wish I could say the Harry Potter series, but that’s 7 books right there! So, I’ll go with… -Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by JK Rowling (#3)

-Obsidian by Jennifer Armentrout (#1)

-Once Upon a Broken Heart by Stephanie Garber (#1)

-The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson (#1)

-Fire and Ash by Heather Frost – no crazy cliffhangers that hurt my heart, but a fun story! Lol

4. What’s something on your bucket list?

See my ancestors’ names on the Denmark Wall. Really, just travel outside the country in general, (Especially to Ireland, Scotland, Italy, and Greece) but I would love to see their names there.

5. What is your writing schedule like, and do you have any “writing rituals”?

With three kids, my writing schedule is whenever I feel like I can get a few words in or stay up crazy late into the night and be exhausted the next day. I’m working on pinning down a better schedule, but every day is different.

6. I know you’re a Harry Potter fan. Can you tell us what Hogwarts house you’re in? And what house do you think your main characters, Violet and Patrick, would be in?

I am happy to talk Harry Potter anytime! As you know. I am in Gryffindor! As far as my characters… Patrick would be in Hufflepuff. His loyalty astounds me sometimes and he is an exceptionally hard worker. Violet… I would say is also Gryffindor. She’s brave in the face of danger, even knowing she isn’t as strong as other wolven – which, admittedly can get her in trouble. No matter the situation, she’s always eager to help someone and loves fiercely.

7. Why don’t you tell us a little about Sun and Blood, and maybe how you came up with the idea?

Sun & Blood follows Violet and Patrick as they navigate through clan life and its struggles. Add in some drama and violence from a neighboring bully and some rogue, bloodthirsty wolven and you’ve got yourself a story. Violet learns early on that she doesn’t have a wolf spirit of her own, leaving her weaker than the rest of the wolven community, but with better senses than a human. She struggles with the realization of what that diagnosis means for her future. Patrick is from another clan and holds all those close to him in his heart, but at arm’s length. He’s really afraid of his past being exposed and desperate to keep everyone around him safe. When those rogue wolven I mentioned earlier start causing havoc for the clan it makes everything a lot harder and puts everyone in danger.

So… Sun & Blood was born out of frustration, to be honest. I love paranormal, particularly werewolves, but kept being disappointed by the books I was reading. I was so fed up with the many stereotypes that have taken over the werewolf world. I wanted to read something that was clean and fun, but still werewolves. Yes, their mating bond does enhance some things, but not to the point where it seems like they lose their mind and all they care about is their mate and jumping each other’s bones every second they get. Yes, there are some alpha male characters (or times when they act that way), but they are not all that way and they get called out on it. Lexie (a character early readers adore) has no problem giving Jax (Violet’s twin brother) flack for acting that way!

8. What was the hardest thing about writing Sun and Blood? What was the easiest thing?

The hardest thing has been getting Patrick’s character just right. I know who he is on the inside, but there are things happening that make it difficult for him to be himself. You get little glimpses here or there throughout the first book and hopefully, he’ll let us see a little more of himself as the story continues.

The easiest thing to write was the main storyline. I wrote well into book 2 after a back injury that kept me on the couch for 3 weeks. I then had to go back through and fill in the barebones, develop characters and places. Another easy part was any interaction between Lexie and Jax. They are hilarious and ridiculous!

9. Do you have a favorite chapter or scene in the book?

I have a few favorites! The one I can talk about without giving too much away is the Moaning Cavern chapter. Moaning Cavern is a real place in California and everything about the place and tour itself was based on real-life experience. An old friend of mine told me about her time there and let me use it in the book. I can’t wait to visit the Moaning Cavern myself someday. She made me cry by telling me that she felt like she was back in the cavern while reading the chapter. There may also be a sweet moment between Violet and Patrick.

10. How many books will be in the series?

Sun & Blood is a trilogy, but I’ll let you in on a little secret. I have ideas and plots already written out for three other stories about other characters in other clans. You’ll get to see Violet and Patrick briefly in each to see how their lives progress after the events of Sentinel Rising. Two of those will be New Adult based mostly on character age, situation, and one because of darker themes.

11. Sun and Blood has a lot of action sequences! Did you do any special research for those scenes?

Yes and no. I grew up watching my dad practice Shoto-kan. A lot of what I write is from watching him and first-hand experience in training with him. I really enjoy writing action sequences! Every once in a while, I will have to look up the name of a move or watch a quick video to be able to better describe how someone would move through an attack. Don’t tell anyone, but there are times that I work through a sequence in my home (when no one is around), imagining the enemy’s placement and how I would react to it.

12. Which character in the book do you relate to the most?

Probably Violet, but mostly when she is interacting with other characters. Her relationship and hot chocolate ritual with her mom remind me of my mom and I. Her conversations and interactions with Lexie remind me of my friend who offered her Moaning Cavern expertise and our friendship. There are moments with Violet and Jax that remind me of my mom and her twin.

13. Which character was the easiest to write? Which was the hardest?

The easiest character to write was Lexie. She knows who she is and is lets the world know!

The hardest was Patrick, but I talked about that earlier.

14. Describe Violet in 3 words.

Fierce. Loving. Independent.

15. Describe Patrick in 3 words.

Loyal. Hard-working. Protective.

16. I love a good side character, and you’ve got some great ones! Who is your favorite?

Lexie! I’m pretty sure she is everyone’s favorite side character as well. She has some major spunk and loves to vex Jax which makes for some very funny scenes.

17. Do you have a song or playlist for Sun and Blood?

Not really? I listened to the Narnia soundtracks a lot until I found Ambient Worlds on YouTube and then listened to the Lord of the Ring’s ambiance and music. I always listen to something a bit more upbeat when I’m writing my fight sequences though.

18. Do you have a favorite line from the book? What is it, and why is it your favorite?

There are so many lines to choose from and I’ve shared quite a few of them on Instagram. One of my favorites is, “Her emotions were everywhere. Cookies were needed.” Emotional eating is a very human thing to do, something I believe everyone has done at least once in their lives. Violet and her cookies are also the only thing every single one of my early readers commented on. One of them said I even made her go and buy some!

Thanks again for taking the time to answer my questions, Crystal!

Be sure to check out the rest of the tour stops here:

https://www.frostcrystal.com/post/sun-blood-media-tour-schedule

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Sun and Blood releases on March 26, 2022!

LINKS:

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Sun-Blood-Sentinel-Rising-Book-ebook/dp/B09R42D3CX/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1647753194&sr=8-1

Amazon Hardcover: https://www.amazon.com/Sun-Blood-Crystal-Frost/dp/1957051019/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1647753194&sr=8-1

B&N Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sun-blood-crystal-frost/1141111778?ean=9781957051017

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60490799-sun-blood

Add on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/sun-blood-sentinel-rising-book-1-by-crystal-frost

***Also available on Kindle Unlimited!***

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Follow Crystal on Social Media:

Crystal’s Website:

www.frostcrystal.com

Instagram:

@Author.Crystal.Frost

https://www.instagram.com/author.crystal.frost/

Facebook:

@Author.Crystal.Frost

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCrystalFrost

Twitter:

@_Crystal_Frost

https://twitter.com/_Crystal_Frost

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18948162.Crystal_Frost

Book Bub:

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/crystal-frost

Join Crystal’s Mailing List:

https://www.frostcrystal.com/contact

Read the Beginning of Royal Captive

WARNING! ROYAL SPY SPOILER ALERT!

If you haven't finished Royal Spy (Fate of Eyrinthia 2), you won't want to read this.

You have been warned :)

Now, enjoy this sneak peek that includes the first THREE chapters of Royal Captive (Fate of Eyrinthia 3)!

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Chapter 1 Bennick

“Be still,” Wilf barked. Agony engulfed Bennick. He sucked in air, his fists digging into the ground, his body on fire. The blade had pierced his back and ripped through his body, coming out somewhere on his lower left side. The pain was excruciating, but that wasn’t what mattered. “Go,” he gasped. “Go after her.” Wilf ignored him. His fearsome expression was marked by old pox scars and deep lines, his jaw locked in a frown as he tore Bennick’s bloody shirt, exposing the injury. His hard mouth became harder, his eyes going flat. Bennick didn’t have to see the wound to know the stabbing was fatal. His eyes pinched closed for a moment, sweat beading on his forehead. Everything inside him was screaming, but he forced words through his constricted throat. “Wilf, go. Please.” Wilf didn’t respond, only leaned close. “It’s clean,” he grunted. “The smell, and the color of the blood. Perhaps nothing vital was hit. Hold still.” Bennick clenched his jaw as Wilf pressed a hand to his abdomen. His other hand slid beneath Bennick’s back to find the entrance wound. He squeezed, attempting to staunch the blood flow with his bare hands. Bennick snarled through gritted teeth, his fingers clawing the ground to keep from tearing at Wilf’s crushing grip. “Dirk!” Wilf boomed. “We need a fire. Now!” Sweat and blood drenched Bennick’s shivering body. He knew his skin was flushed, and the shaking grew worse with every fractured breath. “Wilf,” he croaked. “Stop. I’m already—dead.” Wilf’s eyes didn’t lift from his bloody hands, still pressed against Bennick’s wounds. “You certainly talk a lot for a dead man.” “Please,” Bennick rasped. “Go. Clare . . .” “She’d never forgive me if I left you now,” Wilf snapped. The pressure of his hands increased. “You’re going to be fine.” Time was difficult to judge through the fog of pain. Suddenly, Dirk knelt beside him, a few other guards huddled around them. When Dirk passed a heated dagger to Wilf, dread and panic punched through Bennick’s chest. The guards leaned in, holding him down, giving him nowhere to retreat as Wilf pressed the red-hot blade against his skin. A shattering scream tore through his throat. His head kicked back. His limbs jerked. Fingers tightened their bruising hold on his wrists and shoulders, keeping him pinned to the ground. He still thrashed against them, an involuntary response, his lungs nearly bursting with his anguished cries. The blistering heat was unlike anything he had ever felt. Wilf was sealing the wound—the logical part of him knew that. They were giving him his best chance. But this was excruciating torture. The smell of burning flesh—his flesh—charred the air as the blade seared his skin. His stomach rolled—clenched—heaved. Someone turned his head to the side so he wouldn’t choke on his vomit. “This won’t work,” Dirk said, his voice low and tight. Wilf’s words were encased in steel. “It will.” The sizzle of scalding skin finally stopped, but the burning was relentless, even after the knife was lifted. “Turn him over,” Wilf ordered. As they did, Bennick felt his awareness slipping. Darkness blotted out his sight, coming to claim him. A blessing, considering what Wilf was about to do again. As his cheek pressed into the dirt, Bennick struggled to gasp out his last request. “Save—her.” “I will,” Wilf vowed, his voice rough. “Just as soon as I’m done saving you.” The fiery dagger touched his skin again, and Bennick was gone. His last thought—the last image in his head—was of Clare.

Chapter 2 Wilf

Bennick’s screams rang in Wilf’s ears, even after unconsciousness had cut them off. A darting look assured him that his captain was still breathing, his chest lifting and falling, his pulse thrumming in his neck. The scent of charred flesh made Wilf’s stomach lurch, and he swallowed down a wave of bile. He did not allow his hands to shake as he continued to press the heated blade to Bennick’s flesh. “Searing the wounds won’t help if something vital was hit,” Dirk said, his voice low and tense. He was terrified, too. Wilf gritted his teeth. “He’ll be fine.” He had to be. Dirk didn’t argue. He released his hold on Bennick, as it was no longer necessary to restrain him. He pushed to his feet, twisting to look around them. Wilf knew what he would see. The carriage, sitting empty on the road, door ajar. Bodies of men and horses strewn over the ground. Arrows stuck in the trees, the carriage—and in the bodies that littered the area. Remnants of an ambush that had taken them all by surprise. Even now, the moans and sobs of the still-dying threaded the air. “Cardon got away with Serene,” Dirk said, his voice too level. Wilf had served with the man for years—he knew when Dirk was trying to reassure himself. “Imara’s guards got her away as well. They’ll all return to Serai Nadir’s home to regroup.” “Good.” It was a relief that both princesses were safe, but Clare was in the hands of bloodthirsty Mortisians who thought she was the princess. They hadn’t killed her outright, and Wilf had to believe that was a good sign. They needed her alive. But for how long? And what would happen if they discovered she wasn’t the princess? “Where is Venn?” Wilf stiffened at Dirk’s sudden question. “I lost sight of him in the fight.” The older bodyguard was already striding away, searching the bodies on the ground. Wilf’s heart hammered in his chest. Fates, he couldn’t lose anyone else . . . Dirk wandered several paces before he froze. He muttered a curse and fell to his knees as he rolled a body over. “Venn? Venn!” There was an answering groan, which loosened the knot in Wilf’s throat. He set aside the still-hot dagger and forced himself to focus on Bennick. He’d stopped the bleeding, but that was only part of his captain’s battle. Bennick needed a physician. Now. “Vera,” Venn slurred, pain riding his voice hard. Dirk shook his head, the silver hairs among his otherwise dark head catching in the sunlight. “I don’t know where she is.” “Gone,” Venn said, the word ending on a groan as he struggled to rise. “They took her.” Instead of forcing him back down, Dirk grabbed the young man’s arm and helped him sit—a good sign that Venn wasn’t too badly injured. A growl vibrated through Wilf’s chest. “They took Clare, too.” Venn’s head swiveled toward him, blood tracking down the right side of his face from a blow to his temple. The young man’s eyes dipped, and his dark skin visibly paled. “Bennick?” “He’s alive.” Determination lived in Wilf’s voice. Dirk’s gaze swept the surrounding area. “Ser Zephan is dead. He escaped his guards, but not the arrows of the attackers.” Wilf didn’t have the capacity to feel anything about the Mortisian’s death. Ser Zephan had tried to kill Serene more than once, and he had only been their prisoner so they could take him to Serjah Desfan to be tried for his treason. The irony that Zephan had been killed by other Mortisians, however, did not escape Wilf’s notice. Venn’s shoulders tensed. “The Rose?” “We have him,” a new voice rang out, and Wilf felt a flash of relief to see a couple of soldiers dragging the infamous assassin—hands still bound—between them. The guard spoke again, his voice rigid. “He was attempting to get away.” The Rose lifted one shoulder. “You can’t blame me for trying.” His eyes fell on Bennick and his head tipped to the side, brown locks falling over his forehead. “Is he dead?” He didn’t sound concerned, or even excited—merely curious. “No.” Wilf pushed to his feet. He ignored the fact that, as senior bodyguard, Dirk was technically in charge. “I’m going after them. Dirk, take Bennick and Venn to Serai Nadir’s estate.” Venn’s head jerked up. “No. I’m going after Vera and Clare.” “You’re injured,” Wilf argued. The young bodyguard shoved to his feet, only swaying a little. His bloody face was set in stone. “I’m the best tracker here. I’m going with you.” Fates blast it . . . “Fine,” Wilf bit out. “But if you fall over, I’m not picking you up. And we move now. If we hurry, we can find them before dark.” “It’s charming you think so,” the Rose drawled. Wilf shot him a glare. “Dirk, take him with you.” “I would be far more useful with you,” the Rose countered. “Those were mercenaries. And not just any mercenaries, but Salim’s men. They’re far more clever than you think.” He nodded to the treeline. “They’ll ride in a large group for a while, but then they’ll split off in the forest, taking a few riders in every direction. You’ll have dozens of trails to follow, and only one will lead to Clare. What are the chances you’ll pick the right one?” “How do you know this Salim?” Venn demanded. “I’ve hired him before. He’s cunning, greedy, and sadistic. Since he thinks he’s abducted a princess, he’s going to want to deal with her personally.” The corner of the Rose’s mouth lifted. “And I happen to know exactly which path through the forest he favors, so I can help you bypass the false trails. I could lead you right to him—to her.” A growl rumbled in Wilf’s chest. “What do you want in return?” “My freedom. The moment I lead you to Clare, you let me walk away.” “No,” Wilf said. “The only freedom I’ll ever give you is the kind found in death.” The Rose shrugged. “Fine. But by the time you manage to find the right trail, you’ll be lucky to find Clare’s corpse.” Bennick groaned behind him. A quick look assured Wilf that he was still unconscious, but even unaware of the world, deep lines cut into his face, clearly showing his pain. They were wasting time. Dirk cleared his throat. “Clare was on my horse. That will make her easier to track.” All royal horses were marked, which made their hoof prints distinct. “Salim will check for that,” the Rose said. “He’ll put her on another horse and use the marked one to deliberately steer you away.” Wilf ignored the assassin. “Venn, gather any soldier able to walk.” The young man stalked away, every line of his body showing absolute focus on his mission. Dirk frowned. “There were a great many of them, Wilf. You need more men.” “There’s no time.” The nearest place to get Devendran reinforcements was in Stills, and that small town wouldn’t have many soldiers. The nearest military outpost was even further. They would have to do this on their own. Wilf dragged a hand over his stiff jaw. “Help me get him into the carriage.” Dirk and Wilf lifted Bennick as gently as possible, using infinite care as they set him on the carriage floor; it would be the most stable place for him on the journey back to Serai Nadir’s estate. Bennick flinched, but didn’t wake. “I’ve saved men like this before,” Wilf said quickly to Dirk. “It’s a battlefield technique. A fever may follow, and if there’s any sign of bloating or discoloration, the physician may need to reopen the wounds—” “I know.” Dirk laid a hand on Wilf’s shoulder, his grip firm. “I’ll look after him. You focus on saving Clare and Vera.” His dark eyebrows pulled together. “Do you want to take the Rose with you?” “No,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t need him.” He turned on his heel and strode away, not bothering to glance at the assassin he knew watched him. He had done all he could to save Bennick. Now it was time to save Clare. I’m coming, my little defender. He would destroy anyone who harmed her.

Chapter 3 Serene

Serene stood in Tamar Nadir’s colorful drawing room, facing the large window that viewed the sunny courtyard. She would be able to see the others the moment they arrived.

They would arrive.

She kept repeating the words, a mantra that barely managed to ground her. Scenes of the chaotic ambush flashed through her memory, and her fingernails dug into her palms. Residual adrenaline still spiked through her hours later, making her heart stutter and pound in her chest. Standing in such a highly decorated room with towering bookshelves, overstuffed chairs, and brightly painted walls done in blue and gold, all made the attack on the road seem even more violent. The fists at her sides hadn’t loosened.

Where were they?

The door behind her opened and Cardon entered. She could tell it was him without looking.

She had always been able to tell.

“Serai Nadir thought you might like some tea,” he said, his smooth voice filling the room.

Serene snorted, not turning away from the window. “I don’t think that will help.”

A tray clattered lightly as it was set on the low table behind her, near the long settee. The smell of tea drifted to her. It was a familiar blend; Serai Nadir must keep some Devendran teas on hand. When china rattled, Serene twisted around.

Cardon stood over the tray, arranging cups on saucers. His large hands should not be able to handle the delicate items so deftly, but every motion was perfectly controlled.

Everything about him was familiar to her. He was thirty years old, and his brown hair was silvering in a few select places. He was taller than her, though not by much. He had broad shoulders and strong arms—byproducts of years spent on a training field. The thin scar on his right cheek didn’t detract from his features, but somehow enhanced them. Though she couldn’t see them right now, she could easily imagine the intensity in his brown eyes. He dedicated himself completely to every task—even something as simple as pouring tea.

She got a little lost watching him.

When he finished, she straightened sharply. He crossed the bright yellow rug with two filled cups and stopped directly in front of her. The scent of him—leather and spice—triggered a flutter low in her stomach, and her heart skipped at his nearness.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t want tea.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, his eyes knowing. “You always want tea.”

The strong fragrance drifted up, carried on the steam that billowed in twisting, curling tendrils. Ghosting—there, then gone.

She could feel the weight of Cardon’s stare as he waited.

Fates blast it . . .

She reached for the cup and he eased it into her hands. His callused fingertips grazed her fingers, making her breath hitch.

Her voice came out a little too heavy as she said, “I do not always want tea, Sir Brinhurst.”

He raised a brow. “I know I’ve irritated you when you start calling me that.”

“It is your name.”

“I rather hate it.”

“I know.”

His lips twitched.

She cleared her throat. “Is Imara still with Hanna?” Her cousin’s maid had been shot during their retreat.

“Yes,” Cardon said. “The physician Serai Nadir sent for is with her.”

“Good.” Serene blew lightly on her scalding drink as she turned back toward the window. “They should have made it back by now.”

From her periphery, she caught the long scar on Cardon’s cheek jump as his jaw clenched. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.” The unspoken anxiety that threaded through his words perfectly matched her own. His next words surprised her. “We could return to Iden.”

Serene exhaled shortly. “My father would love that.”

“Your safety is more important than anything. Even the king’s treaty.”

“That edges on treason.”

The skin around Cardon’s eyes tightened. “It’s my job to protect you. There is no treason in that.”

But there was, in a way. Because Serene had been a traitor since she was sixteen years old. She hid the truth from her father by exaggerating a role of petulance and harmless rebellion, knowing he became too frustrated with her to ever look closer. He had never suspected that she was the leader of a rebellion, because all she complained about were dress-fittings and irritable nobles. He never knew that marrying Desfan was a part of her plan, because she complained so strenuously about the betrothal. He didn’t know that she would not rest until she’d destroyed him and her younger brother, Grandeur.

King Newlan was a terrible monarch who took advantage of his people and ruled with fear and threats. He had also murdered his wife—a crime he had never been held accountable for. Grandeur had known about the slow poisoning of the queen, and he had done nothing. That made him just as much to blame, in Serene’s eyes.

Neither of them deserved the throne, and she would take it from them by any means necessary. Even if that meant marrying a stranger. She needed strong allies if she was going to overthrow her father and brother. It was why she couldn’t go back to Iden, no matter how dangerous things became.

“I should thank you,” Serene said suddenly.

“For the tea?” Cardon asked mildly.

She rolled her eyes. “No.” Although she had to admit, just holding the warm cup and smelling the comforting fragrance helped her breathe easier. He knew her too well. “You saved my life yet again. How many times is that?”

He gave her a sidelong look. “It’s not as though I keep track.”

“You sound a little smug.”

“Perhaps I’m simply glad you’re alive.”

“I suppose your employment does depend on my survival.”

His gaze trailed the side of her face. “There are other reasons, Princess.” Her heart clenched in her chest. “You’re right, though,” he continued. “It would end my career. Not even a half-rate merchant would hire me after learning I failed to protect my last charge.”

She arched a brow, and ordered her heart to stop pounding. “I hate to think my death would cause such troubles for you. You might have to take up another occupation altogether.”

Cardon huffed, bringing his cup to his lips. He took a lingering sip, his throat flexing as he swallowed. “I think, Princess,” he finally said, his voice deeper than before. “If I failed to preserve your life, I would become a drunk.”

The image of Cardon hunched over a mug, mourning her death, perhaps being broken by it—

No. No.

She refused to do this. See things that weren’t there. Read too deeply into every word and look. Imposing feelings on him that he had already denied—emphatically.

She steeled her spine. “You would miss me, then?” she said, almost blithely.

His knuckles whitened around his cup. His lips parted, but the door was pushed open, ending the moment.

Imara swept in, tendrils of black hair falling loose from her bun, exhaustion etched on her round face.

Serene faced her cousin, her cheeks feeling too warm. “How is Hanna?”

“She’ll be fine, thank the fates.” Imara rubbed her temple. “The arrow pierced the fleshy part of her arm, so there won’t be any lasting damage. Have the others returned?”

“Not yet.”

Her cousin dropped into a cushioned chair, her shoulders falling. “There were so many of them. What if . . .?”

The unspoken question was one Serene could not bear to think.

A muted thundering spun them all toward the window, where a dozen mounted soldiers surrounded the royal carriage as it rolled into the courtyard.

“Thank the fates,” Serene breathed.

Cardon was already moving for the door, setting his teacup on the tray as he passed. Serene was right behind him, Imara striding alongside her.

They exited the manor’s front door and rushed down the stone steps where the carriage jerked to a stop.

The small door swung open and Dirk climbed out, looking horribly grim. His face was as familiar as any in Serene’s life; he had been her bodyguard since her birth. And he had only ever looked so grave once before.

When he had brought the news that her mother had died.

Serene’s stomach instinctively dropped. When Dirk shifted and she glimpsed Bennick lying on the carriage floor, a hand flew to her mouth.

“Is he dead?” Imara asked, trembling beside her.

“No.” Dirk’s throat flexed as he swallowed. “But he needs immediate assistance. He was stabbed.”

Cardon rushed forward and Imara murmured about getting the physician as she darted back inside the manor.

“Wilf seared the wounds,” Dirk told Cardon as the two of them carefully lifted Bennick out. “He hasn’t awoken, and he’s feverish. He may not survive.”

“He will,” Cardon said firmly.

Serene’s heart clenched. She looked around, noticing for the first time that Clare wasn’t in the yard. Or Vera. She froze. “Where are Clare and Vera?”

“They’re not dead,” Dirk said quickly. “They were taken by the mercenaries who attacked us. Venn and Wilf took six men and are tracking them now into the forest.”

“They won’t find them,” sang out a horribly cheerful voice.

Serene faced the Rose—Zilas, as she preferred to call him. Using his real name stole some of his threat and mystery, and she was sure it would irritate him as well. He was still shackled, a guard on each arm pulling him toward the manor.

Strange, how seeing an enemy could help her focus. Her superior mask slipped into place and she regarded him with an edge of haughtiness. “You seem quite sure of that, Zilas.”

The assassin smiled, his eyes dancing. As if he knew why she had used his name, and he found it amusing. “Oh, I’m dead certain of it, Princess.”

Serene dismissed him by turning on her heel and following Cardon and Dirk inside. Bennick was carried between them. The blood on his uniform alone had her fighting a gag, but as they climbed the stairs, the folds of his shirt fell aside and she saw the wound. It was low on the left side of his abdomen, the skin terribly burned and blistered. Serene swallowed quickly to keep acidic bile from rising up her throat.

Bennick was pale, his skin slick with sweat. Even his breathing was pained.

They reached the first available room and Serene dodged around them to open the door. As they lowered him onto the bed, Bennick’s agonized groan scraped her ears, clawing at her heart.

Then Cardon swore. “He was run through?”

Dirk straightened stiffly. “Yes.”

A tremble shook through Serene. With an injury like that, it was a fates-blasted miracle Bennick was still breathing.

The physician ran in, Imara right behind him. The Mortisian man was older, but his eyes were clear and sharp as he took in his newest patient. “The two soldiers can stay,” he said. “I’ll need you to hold him down if he wakes. The rest of you—out.”

Serene’s feet were stuck to the floor. It was Imara’s hand slipping around hers, tugging her toward the door, that finally made her move.

They remained in the corridor just outside, listening to the indistinct murmur of voices. Time passed. Servants ducked in and out, bringing water, towels, and other supplies. Horrible, gut-wrenching screams pierced through the closed door, and Serene had to tell herself it was a good sign—it meant Bennick was still alive.

Serene paced the hall, chewing the edge of her thumbnail, aware of Imara’s sharp eyes on her. They hadn’t spoken much, just waited together with bated breath for news.

Finally, the door eased open and Dirk ducked out. He looked exhausted, but his eyes found Serene easily enough. “He’s sleeping now,” he said, pulling the door closed until it clicked shut. “Cardon and the physician will remain with him.”

“Will he survive?” Serene asked.

“The physician has done what he can, but the fever is a concern.” Dirk gripped the back of his neck, his expression grim. “Time will tell.”

Bennick had to live. And Clare and Vera had to be found.

Serene could not bear any other alternative.

-------------------------------

Royal Captive releases on March 18th!

Grab your copy in your preferred format here: https://linktr.ee/h.frost

Pre-order and get an EXCLUSIVE short story!

Sign up for the gift here: https://forms.gle/nDubVYVaB7EPYRfh8

-------------------------------

Which character are you most excited to catch up with? Tell me in the comments!

Royal Captive Blog Tour Schedule

I'm so excited to have teamed up with so many amazing book reviewers, bloggers, authors, and bookstagrammers to bring this awesome tour to you and celebrate the launch of Royal Captive!

Keep scrolling to find all the tour details and links, as well as buy links for the books and the pre-order gift sign-up!

A huge thank you to all the bloggers and reviewers

who participated and made this virtual tour possible!

------------------------

Haven't read the beginning of this YA fantasy romance series?

Learn about Royal Decoy here: https://www.heatherfrost.com/fate-of-eyrinthia-series

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MONDAY, March 14th

Cassidy Clarke - Book Review: https://www.instagram.com/cclarkewriting/

@cclarkewriting on Instagram

Crystal Frost - Character Interview (Imara) https://www.frostcrystal.com/blog

Heather Frost - Read the First Three Chapters of Royal Captive: https://www.heatherfrost.com/blog

Literary Time Out - Book Review: www.literarytimeout.blogspot.com

@Literarytimeout on Facebook and Instagram

TUESDAY, March 15th

Book Briefs - Book Review: https://bookbriefs.net/

@Bookbriefs on Instagram

Sarah Hill - Book Review + Character Interview (Mia) https://www.instagram.com/authorsarahhill/

@authorsarahhill on Instagram

The Reading Pantry - Book Review: www.instagram.com/the_reading_pantry

@the_reading_pantry

Thind Books - Book Review + Author Interview: https://thindbooks.wordpress.com

@thindbooks on Instagram

WEDNESDAY, March 16th

A Bella Fairytale - Book Review: https://abellafairytale.wordpress.com/

Darkest Sins - Author Guest Post: https://darkestsinsblog.com

Kait Plus Books - Excerpt: https://www.kaitgoodwin.com/books/

@kaitplusbooks

Jack- Book Review + Podcast Author Interview: https://anchor.fm/createandcall

THURSDAY, March 17th

Batty and Anjali - Rook Review + Character Interview (Desfan) https://www.instagram.com/cherumanalil/

@cherumanalil

Books Less Travelled - Book Review + Excerpt: https://bookslesstravelledreviews.wordpress.com

@BooksLessTravelled

Bookworm Lisa - Book Review + Excerpt: https://lisaisabookworm.blogspot.com

Caylin Nash - Excerpt: https://www.instagram.com/mother.binge.reader/

@mother.binge.reader

Min Reads and Reviews - Book Review: http://minreadsandreviews.blogspot.com

@minreads

Pursuing The Happy - Excerpt: https://pursuingthehappy.wordpress.com/

FRIDAY, March 18th

Captivated Reading - Book Review + Author Guest Post: http://www.captivatedreading.com

@captivated_reading

Getting Your Read On - Book Review: http://gettingyourreadonaimeebrown.blogspot.com/

@gettingyourreadon

Purple Shadow Hunter - Book Review + Excerpt: purpleshadowhunter.blogspot.com

@purpleshadowhunter

Singing Librarian Books - Book Review + Excerpt: https://www.singinglibrarianbooks.com/

@singinglibrarianbooks

Stars Books and Tea - Book Review + Excerpt: https://starsbooksandtea.com

@starsbooksandtea

Why Not Because I Said So - Book Review + Excerpt: www.whynotbecauseisaidso.blogspot.com

------------------------

RETURN TO EYRINTHIA ON MARCH 18th!

Grab your copy in your preferred format here: https://linktr.ee/h.frost

Pre-order and get an EXCLUSIVE short story!

Sign up for the gift here: https://forms.gle/nDubVYVaB7EPYRfh8

------------------------

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60134000-royal-captive

Add on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/royal-captive-fate-of-eyrinthia-book-3-by-heather-frost

A DECOY trapped in a dangerous lieA SERJAH searching for the truthA PRINCE caught in a deadly gameA WORLD choked by secrets

Abducted during a devastating ambush, Clare is now the captive of ruthless mercenaries. Dragged through the wilderness while grieving heart-rending loss, she must maintain the illusion that she is the princess. Because if she lets the mask slip, even for a moment, the Mortisians will have no reason to keep her alive.

After arresting traitors close to the crown, Desfan fights to rebuild his court, knowing that the imminent arrival of the Devendran princess will further upset the precarious balance in Mortise. But Desfan’s world is rocked when he discovers a rumor that rewrites the most devastating event in his life. He will stop at nothing to find the truth–no matter where it leads.

As Grayson struggles to find his footing in Mortise, he discovers new friends and enemies. His life is further complicated by the tenuous alliance with his spymaster brother. With secrets deepening around him, Grayson must decide where his loyalties truly lie. Through it all, his heart remains in Ryden with Mia. Unfortunately, his love for her is no secret, and the Black Hand is a coveted weapon . . .

Eyrinthia holds its breath as allies and enemies collide. Secrets. Lies. Betrayals. Nothing will be the same.

Fate of Eyrinthia Reading Order

I have a basic reading order for all my books on my website, but I decided to include a specific Fate of Eyrinthia reading order with notes. I will keep updating as needed!

Please note that novellas are not required to enjoy the main series; they simply expand the world/story/characters.

*Indicates a novella

Reading Order:

Royal Decoy (Fate of Eyrinthia 1)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085299HQN

Royal Spy (Fate of Eyrinthia 2)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08Y8C69P6?ref

*Fire and Ash (Desfan's story)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B098SJYHW2?ref

(NOTE: This prequel novella is best enjoyed before reading Royal Captive, though chronologically it comes before Royal Decoy and can be read at any time.)

Royal Captive (Fate of Eyrinthia 3) (Coming March 18 2022)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09PMHXFB1?ref

*Untitled Novella (Fate of Eyrinthia 3.5) (Coming Summer 2022)

Royal Captive FAQ

It's been a while since I've done a blog post, but I'm here to answer some frequently asked questions!

------------------

When does Royal Captive come out?

March 18th, 2022.

Do I need to read Fire & Ash before I read Royal Captive?

No, but you'll enjoy Royal Captive more if you read the novella first. Not only will you know Desfan and Karim better, but you will meet someone in Fire & Ash who makes an appearance in Royal Captive . . .

How many books are in the Fate of Eyrinthia series?

There will be 6 books. There will also be a few novellas. Some will be set in the past, and others will be set during the main story arc. All of them are designed to show you a little more of Eyrinthia, and the characters I love so much.

Who is on the cover of Royal Captive?

Mia! I was really excited to showcase her, as she's one of my favorite characters. I also love the Kaelin family crest that is featured behind her. It's creepy cool!

In the past, you've had a pre-order gift. Will there be one this time?

Yes. I will be announcing all the details soon, but there will be an exclusive short story that you can get if you pre-order Royal Captive. Watch my social media for the details, or sign up for my newsletter.

What formats will Royal Captive be offered in?

Kindle and Hardcover, initially. A month or two after March 18, I will release a paperback version as well.

Will Desfan and Serene meet in this book?

Yes, they will meet in this book.

Is Bennick okay???

I can't just tell you that! You'll find out on March 18th . . .

-----------------

I'm really excited for you all to read this book! Who are you most excited to catch up with? Do you have another question? Let me know in the comments!

Fire & Ash - Chapter 1 Sneak Peek

I'm excited to give you a sneak peek of Fire & Ash: A Fate of Eyrinthia Novella! It comes out October 28th, and you can pre-order the Kindle version here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B098SJYHW2?ref

The novella will also be available in paperback!

Here is the official summary:

First the flames . . .

When Desfan Cassian, the future ruler of Mortise, skips his fifteenth birthday celebration so he can gamble in the slums, he knows his father won't be pleased. Then again, the serjan hasn’t been happy with him in years. And while Desfan anticipates a reprimand for his latest transgression, he doesn’t expect to be thrown out of the palace and exiled onto a patrol ship for the next year.Then from the ashes . . .Furious to be trapped on the same sea that stole his family four years ago, Desfan is fully prepared to hate his new life. After all, the Phoenix is run by a strict captain, and Desfan's annoying new bodyguard, Karim, is his constant shadow. But when Desfan learns that a group of dangerous pirates may have been behind the deaths of his mother and sisters, he's suddenly committed to hunting down the truth—no matter the risk.He will rise.

And here is your sneak peek!

--------------------------------

Chapter 1

Desfan tapped his finger against the cards in his hands, his face a practiced mask as he eyed the man across the table. “Well?”

He was several years older than Desfan’s fifteen years, but his face was already weathered. A sailor, Desfan assumed. His expression was carefully neutral as he reclined in his chair, looking perfectly at ease. But Desfan could see the tension gathering at the corners of his mouth.

The man’s friends huddled around the table, rapt spectators. The Red Cobra was loud tonight with rapidly trilling pipe music in the corner, booming laughter from other tables, and the rush of many voices locked in conversation. The tavern was one of Desfan’s favorites to visit, because it was a favorite among docked sailors and he needed fresh people to play with. The regulars had stopped playing with him a long time ago; not just because they accused him of cheating—though he sometimes did—or because he was young and people often thought he wasn’t serious with his bets—which he always was. No, people avoided him after they learned who he was.

Serjah Desfan Saernon Cassian, heir to the throne of Mortise.

Desfan never shared his title, but, unfortunately, the palace guards sometimes managed to find him, and they were never covert in their extraction.

The chaotic sounds of the tavern felt a bit dull to his ears, coming in swells that rolled over him with a strange, almost dull roar. Rather like the sea, actually. Coming, then going. A rush, and then a pull. Something that buried him and took everything, leaving him with nothing.

Or perhaps he was simply feeling the effects of the olcain he’d sniffed earlier. It was stronger than the old drugs he used to take—more expensive, too, which was why he looked forward to winning tonight.

The man across the table straightened, dropping five tarnished coins on the table. “Raise.” He smirked. “I call your bluff, boy.”

All eyes darted to Desfan, who watched the rattling coins settle against the small but still impressive pile.

“You’re out of coins,” his opponent said smugly.

He was.

The man’s eyes dipped to the obsidian ring on Desfan’s thumb. “Perhaps you’ll wager that?”

Desfan’s finger brushed the cool obsidian band and his little sister’s smile flashed in his mind.

His hand tightened into a fist. “No. I have something better.” One hand dipped into his pocket, and then he flicked the small pouch onto the pile of coins.

The man’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that . . .?”

“Olcain,” Desfan confirmed. “Pure.”

Muttering rippled through the gathered crowd, and a few on the edge exchanged anxious looks before making themselves scarce.

“Highly illegal, that,” the man across from him said, his voice low. But his gaze hadn’t left the pouch, the gleam of greed in his eye captured by the light cast from the grimy lanterns.

Desfan cracked a smile. “And certainly worth more than five coins. Consider the bet raised again. Will you match?”

The man’s mouth pressed into a line, but the unfiltered hunger in his eyes told Desfan everything he needed to know.

The man was all in.

He dumped the rest of his coins on the table, as well as the shiny rings on his fingers.

Desfan’s heartbeat quickened. The rush of adrenaline sparked over his skin, igniting every nerve. He pulled in a deep breath, letting his lungs expand as he relished the feeling. The moment. It was in these seconds he actually felt alive.

The crowd sensed the tension and crept a little closer to the small table.

The man across from Desfan smirked, but the sweat beading at his upper lip wasn’t something he could hide. “Let’s see your hand, then.”

Desfan spread his cards against the table, his pulse kicking fast. “A full guild,” he said.

The man across the table froze.

Desfan grinned. “No hard feelings, I hope. I’m very good.”

The man’s nostrils flared and his eyes lifted to meet Desfan’s gaze. “You cheated.”

“Not tonight.” He stood and reached for his winnings, but the man snared one of his wrists.

Fury burned in his eyes. “You’re only a child.”

“Yes, and I beat you. Embarrassing, isn’t it?”

The bones in Desfan’s wrist ground together as the man tightened his hold. With his other hand, he drew a knife from his belt and brandished it between them, the tip aimed at Desfan’s face. “How about we pretend I was the one with the full guild, and you get to keep your pretty face?”

Desfan’s heart pounded against his ribs. The rush of fear was followed by a hot wave of excitement. He grinned. “Who’s the cheater now?”

The man’s glare sharpened. “You’re dead, urchin.”

“Funny. I didn’t know the dead could do this.” Desfan rammed his knee into the table and the lamp fell against the man’s bare arm. The heat was not enough to truly burn him, but it was enough to jerk him back. He recoiled with a bellow, dropping Desfan and his knife so he could clutch his arm.

Desfan grabbed the olcain along with a fistful of coins and darted for the door.

The sailor growled behind him. “Don’t just stand there—get him!”

Desfan ducked to avoid a grasping hand and then leapt, his boot landing hard on the seat of an empty chair so he could vault over a table.

It was amazing what olcain helped him do. He was focused. Unstoppable. He knew exactly where the door was, even through the crowd. He knew exactly how much force to put in each jump, the best way to spin around the next obstacle. He was in perfect control of his body.

In this moment, he was in control of his fate. And that was a rare and fleeting thing.

He landed hard, the impact jarring up his legs. He kept moving, the coins biting into his palm as he ran. He heard the scramble behind him, the shouts of protest as people were shoved aside.

The door was right there.

Desfan grabbed the handle and shoved it open, swinging into the dark street. He bolted, but hadn’t gone far when a hand snagged the back of his shirt. He was jerked to a halt, and then spun until he smashed face-first into the brick front of the Red Cobra.

The olcain dulled the worst of the pain, but it still hurt.

“Ouch,” he complained, his cheek stinging.

Rough hands turned him and shoved him back against the wall, holding him there. He counted four shadows. The one right in front of him was none other than the sore loser.

Hmm. Maybe the olcain just made him feel faster.

The sailor’s knife was once again in front of his face. “I’m going to shove every last coin down your throat,” he growled, his weathered face twisted in rage.

Desfan snorted. “If you really don’t want the coins, I can think of easier ways to be rid of them.”

The sailor used his free hand to grab Desfan’s throat and he squeezed, cutting off most of his air.

The first spark of panic flared throughout his body, tightening his muscles.

The man leaned in, his foul breath clouding the air between them. “Once you’ve died from choking on them, I’ll cut them out of you.”

“A bit excessive,” Desfan choked. “But I admire your creativity.”

The man’s forehead knotted, and his grip flexed. “The fates have addled your brain, boy. Don’t you understand? I’m going to kill you.”

Desfan eyed the man, his crushed throat burning. “I don’t fear death,” he rasped.

“Then you’re a fool.”

No. He’d simply lost his reason for living. But even if he had enough air to say the words, he wouldn’t have said them. He had never uttered them, no matter how often he thought them. He wasn’t really sure why.

Maybe it was because whenever he thought them, he could see his mother’s face. The way her long brown hair curled against her rounded cheeks. Her compassionate smile. Her soft, beautiful brown eyes. He knew the words would make her cry, so he didn’t give them air.

It was the same reason he would always fight to stay alive, even if he didn’t always want to.

Desfan’s fingers found the knife at his belt. He gripped it, but before he could draw it, a voice boomed out.

“Unhand him at once, on pain of death!”

The sailor’s head cranked toward the squadron of soldiers, and his fist loosened almost reflexively, allowing a thin trail of air to burn down Desfan’s raw throat. The man’s knife remained poised before Desfan’s face, though. “Good, you’re here. This boy is a thief and a cheat—”

“I already said I didn’t cheat tonight,” Desfan muttered.

The kiv leading the squadron stepped forward, his expression murderous as he glared at the sailor. “Release the serjah now, or die.”

The sailor’s jaw dropped, his mouth dangling open.

Desfan had seen the same expression a thousand times, and he knew exactly what would happen next. After the shock, a double-take. Then dawning realization. Horror filling the eyes. And—

The sailor dropped Desfan like he was poison. Desfan slumped against the wall and rubbed his throat. He eyed the kiv, paying no heed as the sailor and his friends fell to their knees. “You were moderately quick tonight. I’m impressed.”

The kiv did not look impressed. He was a middle-aged man, and one Desfan recognized, though he didn’t know his name.

Truth be told, he recognized most of the city guard by now. Just as they knew him on sight. Even if he was bloody, bruised, and puking his guts out in the gutter.

The kiv turned to the sailor and his friends. “Forget you saw the serjah here tonight, and you may go free.”

The man might be a horrible loser and have bad hygiene, but he wasn’t an idiot. He muttered his promises and backed away quickly, his friends with him.

Alone in front of the Red Cobra, the kiv faced Desfan and extended a hand.

Desfan sighed. “I don’t have any.”

“Excuse my disagreement, Serjah, but it is in your hand.”

Fates blast it. He thought he’d tucked the olcain up his sleeve, but there it was, staring up at him among a bed of tarnished coins. Perhaps the effects of the drug were wearing off. It would explain how he’d managed to get caught—not once, but twice. First the sailor, then the guard.

He expelled a heavy breath and surrendered the drug.

What happened next was rote.

“Any more of it?” the kiv asked.

“No.”

“You don’t mind if I search?”

He was already turning to face the wall, his palms resting on the cool brick.

Sometimes, he fought them. Yelled at them. Tonight, he simply didn’t care.

After the quick search, they trooped back to the palace. No one said anything.

Also not new.

At the palace doors, the city guard turned him over to his bodyguard, a hulking man named Borahk.

The annoyance between them was mutual.

Borahk hated that Desfan always managed to sneak off and make him look bad.

Desfan hated that the man existed.

Well, to be perfectly fair, he just hated that Borahk was the newest replacement for Darkol, his old guard; the one who had watched over him and his sisters since their births. Darkol had died on the ship with his mother and sisters.

Just another person fate had ripped from him.

The olcain really must be wearing off. He was becoming morose.

Borahk glared, his jaw rigid as he watched Desfan climb the stairs. His massive arms were folded over his wide chest, and every tensed muscle in his square face screamed fury.

“Nice evening, isn’t it?” Desfan drawled.

Borahk grabbed Desfan’s elbow and jerked him into the castle.

“Easy,” Desfan griped. “I am the fates-blasted heir to the throne, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” the large man growled. “Do you?”

He scoffed. “You have no right to lecture me.”

“Do you even know what night it is?” Borahk demanded.

Of course he did. That’s why he’d sniffed half his olcain supply.

It was his birthday. He was fifteen years old. And every year he aged and his sisters did not, well . . . each one cut him deeper than the last.

Borahk shook his head. “The palace is full of nobles who traveled from across the country to celebrate you, and you can’t be bothered to be there. Your father had to make excuses for you—again.”

Desfan’s jaw tightened. He tugged at his arm, but Borahk’s hold was like iron and he soon gave up. “As much as I treasure our time together,” he drawled, “this escort isn’t necessary. I do remember the way to my chambers.”

Borahk didn’t so much as look at him. “We’re not going to your room.”

One of his eyebrows ticked up. “It’s the middle of the night. Where else would we go?”

“The serjan demands your presence.”

That penetrated the fog of olcain shrouding Desfan’s brain. He straightened. “My father wants to see me?”

Borahk grunted. “I think he wants to do a fair bit more than that.”

------------------------

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Fire & Ash! Don't forget, the novella comes out October 28th!

You can pre-order your Kindle copy here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B098SJYHW2?ref

You can also add it here!

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58709977-fire-ash

Bookbub

https://www.bookbub.com/books/fire-and-ash-a-fate-of-eyrinthia-novella-by-heather-frost

What was your favorite part of chapter one? Let me know in the comments!

Royal Decoy - Bonus Content: Mia and Grayson Scene

This scene takes place shortly before the events of Royal Decoy. There are no spoilers, but you'll probably enjoy it more if you've read Royal Decoy, because you'll know the characters.*Note: This was first shared in my newsletter; sign up if you'd like to be the first to see content like this in the future! http://eepurl.com/gQh_aD

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Mia set down the pencil, her fingers curling around the edges of her sketchbook. “All right. I’m ready.” She looked up from the open page that bore one word, her gaze colliding with Grayson’s.

She was instantly captured by his intense gray eyes. They were cool in color, and she had seen them grow even colder when others were with them. Papa. Mama. Fletcher, her guard. But when Grayson looked at her, there was a warmth in those gray eyes that touched every part of her.

He sat at the foot of her bed while she perched at the head. In the bright glow of the lanterns, she could see that the tension he’d carried when he’d entered the room was gone. After a day of enforcing King Henri’s merciless laws, Grayson was always tense. But they’d eaten dinner together, and then she had pulled out her sketchbook so she could distract him with a game.

Grayson was winning. And judging by the half smile that pulled at his mouth, he was enjoying that fact.

“Is it alive?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Is it a person?”

She shook her head, brown curls brushing her shoulders. “No.”

“Is it an animal?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Hmm . . .” He drew up a leg and draped an arm over his knee, his black gloved hand dangling. He made her bed feel small with the way he was sprawled along the base of it. One shoulder propped against the wall as he angled toward her, one leg hanging off the side of the bed.

His black hair, a little too long, curled over his ears and brow. His skin was several shades lighter than hers, even though she was the one who hadn’t seen sunlight in years. Light scars nicked across his visible skin; his forehead, cheeks, jaw, throat. A testament to all he had survived in his seventeen years.

She always got a little lost when she stared at him. His long nose, slightly crooked from being broken too many times, his strong and angular jaw. His cheekbones were high and prominent, his eyebrows dark and thick. And there was a small, barely-there freckle at the lower corner of his mouth that always managed to snag her attention.

Broad shoulders bracketed a chest hard with muscle. She had never seen him without a shirt, but when they trained or she hugged him, she could feel the strength in his carefully toned body. His waist was trim, his hips narrow, and his legs so long he towered above her. Just being near him made her feel safe. He always had, even when he was a small, haunted boy. His presence calmed her. Steadied her. She could close her eyes and inhale his scent, and she immediately felt safe; leather, sunlight, and a slight spice that came from his soap.

His sleeves were pushed up, baring strong forearms. Muscles and tendons flexed under his skin as he shifted to a more comfortable position. More scars traced faint lines over his arms. Sometimes, when they sat side by side, she would brush those marks with her fingertips. Each one hurt her.

Staring at him right now, though, hurt was the furthest thing from her mind. Her stomach fluttered and heat filled her chest. The fates had stolen so much from her, but Grayson was a gift.

“Mia?”

Her eyes darted up, warmth flooding her cheeks. “Sorry, what?”

The corner of his mouth hiked, his eyes intent on her. “Does it fly?”

Oh. Yes. The game. Mia cleared her throat. “Yes.”

Grayson’s throat flexed as he swallowed. “Hmm . . . Is it a falcon?”

She blinked, and her jaw loosened. “How . . . How did you know?”

He lifted one shoulder, and his widening smile showed a glimpse of a dimple. “Just a guess.”

Mia stared.

She had known Grayson for years, but it had not taken that long to fall in love with him. It had only taken a moment. A second of meeting those cautious gray eyes. A pebble, tossed between them. A kindness she had not experienced in so long. A slow, crooked smile. She had been seven. He’d been eight. She’d fallen in love with him then, and she had been falling deeper in love with him every moment since.

Not that she had told him. She couldn’t.

They were friends. Best friends. He was her light. Her strength. He taught her to fight, and she taught him to hope. She would do nothing to destroy what they had.

Grayson was still grinning at her. "I have a confession," he said.

Mia peeked up at him, her heart thumping hard in her chest. "What?" Fates, had he read her mind? Did he feel the same? Was he—?

"I saw you drawing a falcon the other day. I made a guess that it might still be on your mind."

Relief and disappointment swirled inside her. She found herself smiling, though. “You know me too well.” She passed him the book. “Your turn.”

Grayson grabbed the book, his long gloved fingers brushing hers. He snatched up the pencil as well, deliberated a short moment, then scrawled something on the page. He tipped the book away from her, a soft smile on his face as he raised his head, locking eyes with her. “All right. Go.”

Fates, she needed to focus. She pushed a hand through her loose curls and leaned back against the wall. “Is it a person?”

“No.”

“An animal?”

“No.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Is it a place?”

“No.”

“Is it alive?”

“Yes.”

She frowned, considering. “Is it an insect?”

“No.”

She stared at him. “I don’t know what to ask next.”

“Do you concede?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not, give me a moment . . .”

Grayson’s eyes flashed with humor and he bit his lower lip to reign in his smile. It tugged at his freckle and something low in her belly knotted.

She closed her eyes, forced herself to focus. Think . . . Alive, but not an animal, person, or insect . . . Her eyes snapped open. “Is it a plant?”

He dipped his chin. “Yes.”

“A flower?”

“No.”

“A tree?”

“No. And I hate to point out the fact that you only have two questions remaining.”

“If you hate it so much, don’t look so smug.”

He only grinned.

She tapped a finger off her chin. “Is it poisonous?”

He considered that. “It can be, I suppose.”

She shook her head slowly. “Fates, I hate this game . . . Why do I always agree to play this with you?”

He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Is that your final question?”

“No.” She sighed. “Is it a reed?”

He frowned. “Are reeds poisonous?”

“Maybe some of them are,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I suppose you could be right. But in this case, you’re not.”

She blew out her breath. “Fine. What was it?”

“Sorry, you’re out of questions.” He snapped the book closed.

“Grayson!”

He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”

“Those aren’t the rules at all.” She grabbed for the book, but he held it over his head, grinning.

She snatched his wrist and tugged, unable to stop the huffing laugh that escaped her. “Seriously, Grayson, what was it?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!”

“Hmm…”

Impatience won out. Her fingers attacked his side and he gasped and doubled over, laughing as she tickled him.

The book lowered, and she snagged it. Flipping open to the page, she stared at what he’d written. “A leaf?”

“What’s wrong with a leaf?”

She tossed the book at him, and he snatched it from the air with one hand. His grin stretched wider. “Want to play again?”

“Absolutely not. I think it’s time for a game of Assassins.”

He groaned. “You’ll win.”

“And I’ll relish every moment.”

He chuckled, and the sound was so deep it reached all the way to her toes. “Fair enough.”

Guest Post: Fate of Eyrinthia Trivia (Royal Spy)

Note: This post was originally hosted by @The_Reading_Pantry on Instagram as part of the Royal Spy blog tour.

The world of Eyrinthia is a fun place for me to hang out, and I hope readers enjoy it, too! For this guest post, I thought I would share 5 fun facts about the series.

1. Once upon a time, Royal Decoy was a MUCH longer book. It basically combined Royal Decoy AND Royal Spy. It was far too long to publish, so I had to make some changes, and that was an interesting process, as I had to rethink story arcs and character development for two books. But I’m very pleased with how things turned out!

2. Grayson was a character I didn’t plan on. When I started writing Royal Decoy, the storyline was all about Clare. I still get chills when I remember the moment I started a new chapter...and I was not in Clare’s head. I had NO idea why I was suddenly standing in a corridor in a castle in Ryden, the enemy kingdom, but I went with my gut and wrote from the POV of a dark-haired teenage prince. I had no idea what I was about to discover, and I’m SO grateful that Grayson stepped up and let me tell his story. I later went back and integrated him into the story with some earlier chapters, but that first chapter I wrote from his POV is still in Royal Decoy. (It’s Chapter 10, if you want to check it out ;)

3. Fletcher, Mia’s guard, got his name from my own family tree! Fletcher comes from my maternal great-grandparents, who I actually had the great blessing to know. Adding their name into my story was a way to pay homage to them.

4. In Royal Spy, you’ll meet a character named Yahri. She is an old Mortisian noblewoman--but she wasn’t always! When I wrote the first draft, she was actually a middle-aged man. I made the change because it felt like the right thing to do, and I LOVE the result! It makes Yahri a much more interesting character.

5. Mortise is a fun mix of cultures. I took inspiration from middle eastern countries and India, and it has become my favorite kingdom to spend time in! I’m so excited for readers to see it . . . and for everyone to meet Desfan, the reluctant serjah and current regent to the throne. (He also stars on the cover of Royal Spy.) Let’s just say, I am VERY excited for you all to meet him!