This is a sample from my new release, Quintessence, the fifth and final book Enchanted Bookstore Legend. The genre is epic fantasy romance.
In
this scene, the heroine, Lyra McCauley, has just taken hold of the dangerously powerful Emtori Ruby, one of the four keystones she alone must retrieve. Those keystones will help the good Alliance channel astral energy to bolster their weakening magical powers. With Dark Realm attacks threatening to decimate the Alliance, Lyra is desperate. Here, she faces great risks, finding herself in the hands of the Dark Realm's alchemist at the camp of the Qumeli tribe, known for their ways with black magic
from Chapter Twenty: Firestone Fever
Through the
thinning violet mist, Lyra strained to see around her. She couldn’t piece
together what had happened to her or where she was. The Qumeli dust began to
wear off, but her vision still blurred and focused randomly. Where she lay on
hard, packed soil, the violin nestled at her side in its sack. Her left hand
clutched the Emtori Ruby. She worked her other down to her pocket—the
Staurolite remained safe.
Tarom leaned
over her. “Can you hear me, Lyra?” His complex scent caught her attention; a
pronounced top note of calm rosemary masked undertones of volatile and spicy
coriander—a curious dichotomy. With the ruby utilizing so much of her mental
processing, she noted the contradiction but gave up on analysis.
“Yes.” The word
stuck in her throat with a garbled croak. “Where am I?” she sputtered.
“Where there are
many healers.” He looked up and waved. “Bring your best healer of magical
wounds.”
Lyra turned her
head in the direction of female chatter and caught a glimpse of the weathered
faces of three women. Full sweeping skirts covered their wide hips, and
kerchiefs wrapped around their horns tying back their hair—Qumeli.
They directed a
teenage girl who took off at a run and disappeared between circular canvas
tents. Animated with arms slicing the air, the trio glanced back and forth
between each other and Lyra, talking in a foreign tongue. Their heated
discussion drew more onlookers every minute. The metallic odor of rusted iron
hung thick in the air. A chaotic squabble of noises bombarded Lyra’s ears. A
distant herd of goats bleated, and dogs barked from every direction. A clutch
of pseudodragons flapped their tiny wings in nearby trees. Footsteps rushed
toward her, and urgent human voices whispered nearby, while others called and
yelled throughout the camp.
Lyra flailed her
arms against Tarom’s chest. “Get me out of here. They’ll kill me.” Her hand
holding the ruby landed with a thud against his shoulder.
He squelched a
moan and grabbed her wrists, pinning her arms to the ground while she flinched.
“Listen to me,” he whispered close to her face. “You have serious mortal
wounds. Those alone threaten your life since you’re not fully afflated. But
your magical wounds from that fight are far worse. Neither Cullen nor I can
mend those. You will die without the help of these healers who can use black
art.”
The strength of
the ruby’s magic willed her to fight him, but her torso and legs refused to
obey her commands. Despite her heightened sensory input, her legs felt nothing.
They lay limp and heavy. She attempted to direct aura into them, but what
little she could gather wouldn’t transfer into the paralyzed tissues. She
winced at the realization of his truth about her injuries. But she doubted
whether the Qumeli would actually help her. “Why would they save me?”
“Because I’ve
requested their service.” Tarom raised his voice, possibly to clarify his
intent to those who stood close. “This is the Qumeli camp of the western Dark
Realm. As the official alchemist, they will honor me.”
“They have no
code of honor,” she spat.
“They will serve
me. And they will serve you, the bearer of the great ruby.”
“They’ll just
kill me to take it.” She steeled her jaw. “You could have at least let me be
with Cullen while I die.”
Tarom lifted her
empty hand. He rubbed his thumb along the side of her index finger and
repositioned the dragon ring to another finger to expose her bloodswear scar.
He let go of her other arm and brought his own finger encircled with the same
mark next to hers. “Along with Cullen, we share a bond. I will not let you die,
and I will return you to your love. I made that promise to you before. I put
myself at risk, helping you escape attackers at my Versula castle. Feel my honor
once again.” When their scars touched, she accepted his word. Whether he could
control the strong-willed Qumeli seemed less certain.
Bombarded with the
ruby’s effects, confusing impulses zipped through her mind and body at
hyper-speed. She couldn’t sort out potential risks. Lyra attempted to catch
Tarom’s gaze and use the craft of fascination to read his mind for clarity.
He averted his
eyes, which worried her. She vaguely remembered seeing Cullen’s blue light in
the air. She wondered why Tarom appeared at her side in the ravine without him.
And why did Tarom transport her away in such a hurry before Cullen arrived? She
frantically searched for reasons, but her overloaded brain wouldn’t sequence
the possibilities.
Lyra gave up and
trusted that Tarom would at least fight to keep her alive. If healed, she could
protect herself regardless of his intentions. She focused her limited attention
on her injuries. She withdrew her hand from his and inched it over her heart,
lungs, and lower torso. She detected bits of information about cracked
vertebrae in her lower back and a spinal tear which leaked aura into her torso.
Two cracked ribs resisted her limited attempt at self-healing. She raised her
head for a better view.
The golden aura
in Lyra’s palm shined much weaker than she expected. In her other hand, the
ruby’s bright light spilled between her fingers. It seemed healthier than her.
She recalled passages from the first Scribe’s book. When Elisabeth encountered
the ruby, it fed on her energy, then shared its power with her, creating a
unified bond between them.
“That ruby is a
burden to you.” Tarom’s hands followed hers across her torso, accessing
internal damages. Do you wish me to keep it safe?”
“No. I need it,”
she snapped and clamped the gem to her chest, where it pulsed with a more
brilliant light.
“Why do you need
it?” He quickly repaired her ribs, knitting the bone fragments together with
skill.
“It takes my
pain away.”
He scanned her
face. “Is that all it does?”
“It makes me
feel powerful, more alive,” she replied without thinking, then wondered why he
pressed her for a more complete answer, as though he tested her.
A young Qumeli
woman, dressed like a man in loose trousers, assisted an elderly female who
walked with extreme difficulty. With tedious effort, the older woman knelt at
Lyra’s side.
Tarom gave a
knowing smile to Lyra and motioned to the pair of Qumeli women. His expression indicated he learned something
from her answer, but what? “She has a serious magical wound to the lower spine.
Aura is leaking around her organs. I can do no more. I trust you can heal her.”
“Gorta heals
all.” The young woman wearing pants nodded at her elder and squatted at Lyra’s
hips. Dusty, suede boots laced up her shins. She took the old woman’s frail
hand toward Lyra but abruptly jerked back and gasped. “The stranger bears the
firestone.” The young Qumeli trembled and bowed a forehead of cropped, dark
hair that hid numerous horn stubs. Behind two prominent horns above her ears,
braids hung down her back. While muttering expletives, she gave off a faint
skunk-like body odor.
Gorta remained
stoic, her eyes clouded with milky cataracts on either side of a single, scaly
horn that arched over her head. More like a demon than a human, her appearance
frightened Lyra. The elder woman’s shapeless gray tunic, adorned only with a
single claw-footed talisman hanging from her bony neck, added to the chilling
effect. When she leaned closer, Lyra grimaced at the old woman’s scent—wet
pavement covered with drowning earthworms.
Members of the
gathered crowd murmured in a language Lyra didn’t understand.
From his
position beside her, Tarom gripped the young woman’s shoulders and pulled her
upright. “Heal her now!”
She swallowed
hard and spoke to Lyra with a shaky voice. “My name is Teklay. We care for you.
Stay still.” Teklay gave a forced smile and touched Lyra’s forehead. “Much
heat.” She wiped her hands on a coarse linen vest and took hold of the elder’s
knobby fingers again.
Gorta’s icy
touch at Lyra’s pelvis made her grimace, although any sensation in her
paralyzed lower body gave hope. “Fire spews through her,” the elderly healer
said hoarsely and twirled a finger. “Turn.”
Tarom
repositioned himself at Lyra’s opposite side and gently rolled her toward him,
while she cradled the violin to her chest in the nook of an elbow.
She gasped at
the sensation of leaked aura flowing through her left side. To quell the
discomfort, she clutched the ruby tighter. It responded, sending energy deep
into the organs of her lower torso. Unable to see the Qumeli women behind her,
she studied Tarom’s face for any reaction to their procedures.
For several
minutes, Gorta’s icy touch traced Lyra’s spine and pelvis.
Tarom’s face
remained vigilant but calm, his dark eyes following the women’s movements.
Coldness radiated
along Lyra’s sacrum, then jabbed down her upper legs. Her thigh muscles spasmed
reflexively. Gorta repeated the application, this time for longer, and the
sensation shot to Lyra’s shins. A third time, to her toes. Her legs kicked
without her control.
Suddenly Lyra’s
mouth watered with nausea. Heat flooded her face and sweat stung her eyes. She
clutched Tarom’s knee high boot with her free hand to steady herself.
He rubbed a hand
along her shoulder. “You’re hurting her! Be quicker.”
“Only must seal
the wound,” the elder croaked. Behind Lyra, a rattle shook while Gorta chanted,
her voice hoarse and low.
Teklay danced
around Lyra’s body, shaking the gourd instrument. When she completed a full
circle, Lyra detected new feeling in her legs. Her aura, along with power from
the ruby, coursed into the lower limbs.
She stretched
her legs long and wiggled her toes in her boots.
“How do you
feel?” Tarom asked.
“Good. Like I
want to try to sit up.” Actually, with the ruby’s empowerment, Lyra wanted to
leap and dance and race the wind.
He supported her
torso.
The eyes of
those gathered widened.
“Help me stand,”
Lyra directed the alchemist.
With Tarom’s
hands under her armpits, Lyra pushed up carefully to test the strength of her
muscles. Her legs held her weight, but she took tentative steps to be certain.
“Cured. Now, you
pay,” Teklay proclaimed loudly, and the small crowd cheered.
Lyra’s head
swiveled to face the woman, and fear shot through her. No longer occupying a
helpless body, the ruby commanded her to protect herself. She waved the ruby at
arm’s length around the circle. Its red light set skirts and pant legs ablaze
on those closest.
The victims
screamed and ran, not stopping to extinguish flames licking up the fabric. Camp
dogs barked wildly after the victims. Pseudodragons fled to cover higher in the
wiry trees. Women from tents rushed out with hides to put out the fires for a
few. Most, not as lucky, fell to the ground engulfed and writhing, their shrill
cries ascending octaves higher until both their voices and bodies silenced.
Only the two
healers and Tarom remained, frozen and staring at Lyra.
The air smelled
of charred flesh. Then, Lyra realized what she’d done. She sank to the ground
and cupped her head in her hands. She killed innocent people. How? The ruby’s
energy validated the wretched act, while what little she could access of her
own aura and ethics rebuked her for the murders. Tormented by the war in her
mind, she hugged her knees, then spread her legs wide, digging trenched through
the dirt with her heels.
Tarom conferred
with the pair. He passed a series of small objects to them and waited for their
approvals.
Chilling silence
descended over the camp. Rather than the previous bustling chaos, only wailing
sounds of grief filled the air punctuated by an occasional lone howl. Tent
flaps previously open to the fresh air, now fastened tight. Lyra’s heart ached
for those she killed, but the grief of their loved ones cut like a blade.
Unable to accept
or even comprehend the murders she committed, Lyra raged against the foreign
power occupying her. She tried to release the ruby. She opened her palm and
wanted to shake the gem loose—its will overpowered her own, flowing through her
veins like a rush of adrenaline. She shoved it into the empty front pocket of
her jeans, thankful for the meager protection of at least a few thin layers of
fabric between it and her. She leapt to her feet and tore away from the camp,
away from any person she might harm. Her intention—burn out the ruby’s fire.
*~*~*
Information about the Enchanted Bookstore Legends:
The Enchanted Bookstore Legends are
about Lyra McCauley, a woman destined to become one of five strong women in her
family who possess unique magical abilities and serve as Scribes in Dragonspeir.
The Scribes span a long history, dating from 1200 to present day. Each Scribe
is expected to journey through Dragonspeir, both the good and evil factions,
then draft a written account. Each book contains magic with vast
implications.
Lyra was first introduced to Dragonspeir as a young
girl, when she met the high sorcerer, Cullen Drake, through a gift of one of
those enchanted books. Using its magic, he escorted her into the parallel world
of Dragonspeir. Years later, she lost that volume and forgot the world and
Cullen. These legends begin where he finds her again—she is thirty-five,
standing in his enchanted bookstore, and Dragonspeir needs her.
When Lyra reopens that enchanted book, she
confronts a series of quests where she is expected to save the good Alliance
from destruction by the evil Black Dragon. While
learning about her role, Lyra and Cullen fall in love. He is 220 years old and
kept alive by Dragonspeir magic. Cullen will die if Dragonspeir is taken over
by the evil faction…Lyra becomes the Scribe.
Seeking a
Scribe: Enchanted Bookstore Legend One
Lyra McCauley is a writer and loves fantasy novels,
but until she opens a selection from bookstore owner Cullen Drake, she has no
idea he’s a wizard character who lives a double life inside that volume…or the
story’s magic will compel her from the edge of depression to adventure, danger,
and love.
His gift to Lyra, the Book of Dragonspeir, was actually her copy, misplaced years ago.
Lost in her pain following divorce and death, she fails to recognize him as her
childhood playmate from the fantasyland. Friendship builds anew. Attraction
sparks. But Lyra doubts whether a wizard is capable of love. She’s torn—should
she protect her fragile heart or risk new love?
Opening the book’s cover, she confronts a quest:
save Dragonspeir from destruction by the Black Dragon before he utilizes power
of August’s red moon to expand his strength and overthrow the opposing Imperial
Dragon. Lyra accepts the challenge, fearing Cullen will perish if evil wins.
Along with magical animal guides, Cullen helps her through many perils, but
ultimately Lyra must use her own power…and time is running out.
Heritage Avenged: Enchanted Bookstore Legend Two
Lyra McCauley receives an alarming letter from the coroner
who evaluated her deceased aunt, originally thought to have died of cancer. The
news causes Lyra to take leave from her job and travel from sunny Tampa to the
frozen island community in northern Michigan. Questioning whether Dragonspeir
magic was responsible for her aunt’s death, she resolves to learn the truth and
accepts the Imperial Dragon’s appointment into the Alliance sorcery training.
Additionally, becoming proficient in magic craft is the only
way she can bridge the gap between her mortal human world and her lover’s.
Cullen, a 220-year-old wizard, is dependent upon his Dragonspeir magic for
immortality. He is her only family now; she cannot lose him.
Evil forces block her and try to steal her inherited scribal
aura. Riding a stealth dragon, a cloaked rider pursues Lyra. Both the Alliance
and Dark Realm alchemists lay tricks and traps. Her aura equals that of the
first and most powerful Scribe, but will Lyra’s novice training allow her to discover
the truth…and find a life with Cullen? Or will the
Dark Realm keep them apart?
Lost Volumes:
Enchanted Bookstore Legend Three
When Lyra McCauley learns residents of Dragonspeir’s
Alliance are suffering with a deadly plague, she doesn’t heed the warnings of
her fiancé, wizard Cullen Drake, to remain safe in her human world. After all,
she’s the present Scribe—one of five strong women in her ancestry who possessed
unique magic, each destined to protect the Alliance against the evil Black
Dragon of the Dark Realm. With Cullen dependent upon Alliance power to maintain
his immortality, the stakes are doubled for Lyra.
She leaves her college teaching and puts herself at risk for
the community afflicted by black magic. To find a cure, she and Cullen travel
into the vile, lawless underworld of Terza to strike a bargain with an expert.
Their efforts further enrage the Black Dragon, vowing to decimate the Alliance
and avenge the murder of his heir.
Lyra must secure the three lost volumes of the Book of Dragonspeir. Written by the
three earliest Scribes, each book contains energy. Possession of the entire set
will enable overthrow of the Dark Realm. Following clues into dangerous lands,
Lyra and Cullen seek those volumes. His assistants, Kenzo the tiger owl and
Noba the pseudodragon, prove invaluable aids. Only if they succeed, will the
Alliance be safe and Lyra reach closer to the immortality she needs to live a
life with Cullen.
Staurolite: Enchanted Bookstore Legend Four
Lyra McCauley, current Scribe of the Alliance, is the only
one who can decode magic hidden in the recently retrieved ancient texts written
by her ancestors, the first four Scribes. Information in those writings can help
Lyra locate the four missing keystones, which will restore power to the
Alliance and allow overthrow of the Dark Realm. With peace restored, she and her
beloved, Cullen, could finally marry.
Time is short with the Black Dragon’s Dark Realm increasing
attacks to avenge the death of his heir. Many innocent lives are lost. Alliance
residents are forced into hiding. Magicals and blue dragons follow leadership
of the Imperial Dragon and the other three Guardians into battle to defend the
Alliance.
While Lyra unlocks the ancient magic, she opens herself up
to scribal powers from her ancestors. She alone can fight the deadliest of the
Dark Realm’s forces—the cimafa stealth dragons—but at a cost. The energy flux
threatens her health and ability to learn where to find the missing keystones.
Can Lyra overcome this shrewd tactic of the Black Dragon to decimate the
Alliance?
Quintessence: Enchanted Bookstore Legend Five
~the final volume~
Barbaric Dark
Realm warfare threatens to overtake all Dragonspeir lands, including the
Alliance. Lyra McCauley, the fifth Scribe of the Alliance, finds herself in a desperate
competition to gather four missing keystones. Those amulets of the four natural
elements guarantee victory for the side possessing them. The Dark Realm’s
alchemist, Eburscon, beats her to finding the water gem, the Pearl of Pendola.
Three more keystones remain: the fluorite containing earth energy, the
moonstone of the sky, and the fiery, dangerous Emtori Ruby.
The powerful
gems, stolen centuries ago, channel astral energies and can restore much-needed
Alliance power—the last hope. The wizard, Cullen, who is Lyra’s beloved, relies
on Alliance magic for his immortality and will perish if the land falls to the
Dark Realm.
Lyra uses her rare
magical energies of quintessence and the Staurolite, governor of the four
natural elements, to guide her to the hidden keystones. However,
greed and power drive opponents, who challenge her in close pursuit, planning
to destroy the Alliance, or to claim the power of quintessence for themselves.
The Dark Realm
captures the ten-year-old Alliance seer, Kessa. Her abilities can give them
information about the locations of the keystones, complicating Lyra’s plans. Will
her love, allegiance, and quintessence allow her to save Cullen, Kessa, and the
Alliance before the Dark Realm claims all of Dragonspeir?
Purchase Links for books in the series:
2 comments:
Hi Marsha, just stopping by to say how delightful your blog is. Thanks so much for sharing. I have recently found your blog and am now following you, and will visit often. Please stop by my blog and perhaps you would like to follow me also. Have a wonderful day. Hugs, Chris
http://chelencarter-retiredandlovingit.blogspot.ca/
Thanks for your interest, Chris!
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