RELEASE DAY: Kimber Leigh Wheaton "Stolen Moon"

 

Blurb:

Katarina ~ a Royal Knight bound by honor and duty who steals a powerful relic from a sorcerer in a desperate attempt to save her kingdom from the clutches of a madman.

Ethan ~ a mercenary leader trapped between his growing attraction to Katarina and his responsibility to protect his friends from the evil pursuing her.

Zebulon ~ a malicious sorcerer waging war as though it's a game, caring nothing for the lives he destroys in his quest for power.

Drawn together by a moonstone medallion—an indestructible relic with immense magical power.

Katarina steals the medallion from Zebulon and flees in the dead of night. Together with Ethan and his mercenaries, she struggles to stay one step ahead of the sorcerer and his minions in a race against time to save her homeland. Fierce battles, ravenous monsters, and bloodthirsty brigands—those are no surprise. But Katarina never dreamed her greatest obstacle could be falling in love.

 

 

Author:

Kimber Leigh Wheaton is a YA author with a soft spot for sweet romance and is a member of Romance Writers of America. She is married to her soul mate, has a teenage son, and shares her home with three dogs and four cats. No, she doesn’t live on a farm, she just loves animals. Kimber Leigh is addicted to romance, videogames, superheroes, villains, and chocolate—not necessarily in that order. (If she has to choose, she’ll take a chocolate covered superhero!) She currently lives in San Antonio, TX but has been somewhat a rolling stone in life, having resided in several different cities and states. Her family enjoys travel, anime, & are video game fanatics. Watch for book 1.5 in the Light Chronicles series, coming soon.

 

 

Now available on
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Excerpt:

Chapter One

Pirates

 

Life on the run is nothing like the adventures I read as a child. By now I should be swinging my sword, slaying brigands with a handsome hero at my side. After a victorious battle, he'd sweep me into his arms, his passionate kisses leaving me breathless. We'd continue our quest, confident that good always conquers evil. Everything would be black and white, no doubts, no regrets.

Waves crash against the schooner drawing me from my reverie, the ship and my empty stomach roiling under the onslaught. I stand at the bow, forcing my heavy eyes to stare at the first slivers of morning sunlight. Glistening orange and yellow rays paint a beautiful picture across the vast sky, a bitter mockery of the darkness engulfing my heart. The weathered teak of the ship's railing bites into my hands, scraping against the abused skin. After a week of standing here every night gripping this wooden rail, it should be smoother, worn down from my restless movement.

The ship lurches as it crests a large wave, and I clutch the railing when I stumble. Splinters dig into my palms. It seems the only thing being worn down is my skin. Feet shuffle and scrape across the deck behind me. A frigid blast of air whips across the ship, snapping the sails. Hunching over the railing, I drag my hood up, shivering until the wind dies down. Nearby murmurs and quiet snickers shock my heartbeat into a rapid staccato, though I manage to swallow the gasp threatening to escape my throat. The crew has gathered behind me, their approach muffled by the howling wind.

"She don't look so tough," a male voice mutters.

His voice is joined by several others, whispering low enough that I can only make out a few words. My gaze never leaves the black expanse of water while I strain to hear them over the crashing waves. The unsavory crew is trying to convince themselves I'm not the terror Captain Harris made me out to be. Creaking planks signal the movement of the men as they creep closer. My pulse races. Creak. I swallow around the lump in my throat.

"I dunno. She got a sword," another sailor says, louder than the rest. "Why she got a sword if she can't use it?"

Creak. A shiver races up my arm as I grasp the icy metal hilt of my sword. The men scuttle backward but they don't leave. Conspiring whispers start up again. They are so close I can smell the foul stench of their unwashed bodies. Fresh water is a premium on the open sea, bathing a luxury reserved for the captain alone.

"Harris done said she's a Royal Knight," a sailor insists.

"Why believe him? He just wants her for hisself."

The ship lurches again. Salty water flies up into the air around me, stinging my eyes. I stumble, tripping over my own two feet as my hands scrape along the railing. My knee slams into the unforgiving wooden planks, sharp pain searing up my leg. I pull myself back to my feet, not sparing a glance for the snickering men behind me. My arms shake as I lean against the rail, fighting exhaustion. It seems my fatigue has caught up with me. I haven't slept more than a few hours since we set sail seven days ago. With any luck I can sneak in a nap this afternoon, once I'm sure my mother and two sisters are safe from harm. I'm so tired my eyes ache.

"She's wearin' the Royal Insignia!" Gil says, his squeaky voice my only defender. "She gots it on her clothes, her sword and dagger, oh and on her armor too."

A ragged sigh rattles through me, my breath a white wisp in the cold, damp air. I try to ignore the scheming crew. This isn't the first time I've heard such whispers. Though it is the first time they've crept this close to me. Ignoring them is the best thing I can do as long as it remains talk. These merchant sailors are cowards like any bullies. As long as they have me to torment, they'll leave my family alone. I hope. An icy gust of wind grabs at my long blond hair, sending it flying around my body.

RELEASE DAY: Rachel E. Carter "The Black Mage: First Year"

 

Blurb:

Before the age of seventeen the young men and women of Jerar are given a choice –follow tradition, or pursue a trial year in one of the realm’s three war schools to study as a soldier, knight or mage…

For 15-year-old Ryiah the choice has always been easy. Become a warrior and leave the boring confines of her lowborn life behind. Set to enroll in the School of Knighthood on the eve of her next birthday, plans suddenly shift when her twin brother discovers powers. Hoping that hers will soon follow, she enrolls with Alex at the Academy instead –the realm’s most notorious war school for those with magic.

Yet when she arrives Ry finds herself competing against friend and foe for one of the exalted apprenticeships. Every “first-year” is given a trial year to prove their worth –and no amount of hard work and drive will guarantee them a spot. It seems like everyone is rooting for her to fail –and first and foremost among them Prince Darren, the school prod-igy who has done nothing but make life miserable since she arrived.

When an accidental encounter leads Ryiah and Darren to an unlikely friendship she is convinced nothing good will come of it. But the lines become blurred when she begins to improve –and soon she is a key competitor for the faction of Combat… Still, nothing is ever as it seems –and when the world comes crashing down around her, Ry is forced to place faith in the one thing she can believe in –herself. Will it be enough?

 

 

Author:

Rachel Carter lives in Placerville, California with her fiancé and their two spoiled pets: a feisty feline named Charlie, and Zoey, an Australian Shepherd who gets jealous of her own shadow. She loves to organize –and when she is not color-coding her closet she is always looking for the next good book. She grew up reading about magic, hot bad boys, and lady knights. The Black Mage, her debut series, is a tribute to all the things she never stopped loving.

The Black Mage: First Year is the first book in Rachel’s four-book YA fantasy series with Astraea Press. Rachel invites you to visit her author page at www.facebook.com/theblackmageauthor.  She loves to hear from other aspiring authors or readers via email at rachelcarterauthor@gmail.com. Follow her on twitter @blackmageauthor and read her blog at http://theblackmagegirl.wordpress.com.

 

 

Now available on
ღ Amazon ღ Barnes& Noble ღ Smashwords ღ

 

Excerpt:

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

"Don't look now," I said softly. Did I sound calm? I hoped so. It was hard to tell with the frantic beating in my chest. "But I think we are being followed."

My brother paled, hands freezing on the reins. Almost unconsciously, his head began to turn in the direction of my warning.

"Alex!" I hissed.

He jerked his head back guiltily. I hoped the movement would go unnoticed by the four riders trailing a quarter of a mile behind us. They hadn't appeared too concerned with our procession thus far, but the fact that the men were still following us after the last main road had ended left an unsettling taste in the back of my mouth.

It was getting dark fast. At the elevation we were traveling, there wouldn't be much light left for long. Already the sun had wedged itself behind one of the larger outcroppings of rock, and the rest of its rays were fading much too quickly for my liking.

I had hoped the party would stop to make camp at one of the few sites we had passed—after all, what weary traveler wouldn't prefer the comfort of a well-worn pit and nearby stream? I, for one, would have insisted as much if it hadn't been for the uncanny appearance of those behind us.

"How do you know they are ‘following’ us?" Alex whispered loudly. Our horses continued their steady climb into the dark hillside. "Shouldn't we be stopping soon?" he added. "I'm sure they'll continue on, and then you'll see your worry was all for nothing."

"Alex," I said through clenched teeth, "their saddlebags are far too light for a trek like this. That's not nothing."

"So?"

I forced myself not to let my frustration show. It wasn't Alex's fault he didn't understand my concern. His faction was Restoration. He cared about healing people, not what it looked like to harm them.

"Only fools—or bandits—would travel so empty-handed. Four grown men are not fools, Alex. Even fools would have known to take that last main road to an inn…" I swallowed. "But a bandit, they wouldn't need to bother with packs since, well, because they would be taking our own instead."

My twin slowly mulled over my words. I wondered if he would believe me. I wasn't exactly known for my easygoing temperament. I hoped he didn't think this was just another one of my "rash judgments" as our parents were wont to assume.

As I waited for Alex's response, I pretended to check the footholds, giving myself an opportunity to spy on our shadow once more. Though the men were much harder to identify without the broad light of day, there was still no mistaking the glint of steel bulging from one of the men's hip. Only a soldier or knight was allowed to bear such metal.

A chill ran through me. I doubted he was either.

"Right," Alex said abruptly.

In as much nonchalance as one could muster under the circumstances, I faced my brother stubbornly. "Alex—"

"I believe you."

Oh. I paused.

"What should we do, Ry?" Gone was his relaxed smile, and in its place a timid frown…and an unsure, flickering blue stare. At first I didn't recognize the expression—he looked so much younger than his fifteen years. But then I realized it was fear producing the vulnerability in my brother's eyes.