Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Wednesday The Wizards of Fyre #MFRWHooks #BWLPublishingLTD #Fantasy #Romance

Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3) Kindle Edition

Join the writers at #MFRWHooks here http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com   and find some great excerpts. 

BLURB:

Lorana, sold by her father to the slavers, resides in the harem in the citadel of the wizards. Her desire is to escape before she is given as a reward to one of the two wizard trainees who are competing for a spot on the council. She knows how to brew a cordial from firethorn berries and a poison from the thorns. When Arton, one of the young men is poisoned by the thorns she must care for him. She feels an attraction to him but she must escape. One night she hears the voice of a dragon. She thought the wizards had destroyed all the dragons on this side of the mountains. When the wizards leave to collect men to sell to the slavers, she takes the opportunity to escape with few supplies and a determination to reach the dragon.

Arton is a fledgling wizard and is about to be tested for the council. His mentor has died. His mentor wasn’t his father. The wizard purchased Arton from the slavers years ago. The present chief wizard would like to thwart Arton’s quest because he wants his son and trainee to join the council. Arton and his rival are evenly matched. The escape of Lorana becomes a quest. Which of the young wizards returns her to the citadel will win the competition and gain her as a reward. Cregan the rival decides to search on the desert. Arton chooses the hills. Because of Lorana’s care of him when he was poisoned he is attracted to her and he still craves a seat on the council.

Can Arton find Lorana first and will he make her a prisoner or allow her to remain free?


EXCERPT:


     High gray stone walls surrounded the citadel. The ones around the hareem courtyard where the women spent most of their days were lower. As a chill rippled along her spine, Lorana raised her head to appraise the danger. She glanced at the grilled gate separating the women’s area from the outer courtyard. A burly man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Lust radiated from his stare. Moments later the austere figure of the chief wizard joined the first man. Mecador’s sly smile added to her discomfort.
      Lorana clenched her hands. She vowed to find an escape before the day arrived when she was destined to be given as a reward to one of the two young men competing for the vacant spot on the wizard’s council.
     Since the day her father had sold her to the wizards of the Island of Fyre, she had made the same promise. For four years she had hoped for a way to escape these evil men. She couldn’t wait much longer. Last evening Hag Mother had told her the two senior fledglings would soon fight for the vacant seat.
     A third man entered the outer court and stood at a distance from the staring pair. For some reason the tall, lean trainee failed to cause her as much alarm as the burly one. From the gossip among the women, the husky one had the favor of Mecador. No matter. She had no desire to remain a prisoner to be owned by a wizard and used as the man willed.
Resentment churned her gut. She hated her position in life. Not forever, she vowed and walked to the work area.
     She poured several cups of dried fyrethorn berries into a mortar. She slid the pestle over the surface crushing the berries to a powder to be added to the cauldron bubbling over the first fire. The result would be a cordial.
     The acrid aroma of brewing fyrethorn poison rose from a second kettle in a spiraling pattern. Lorana despised working with the death-bringing liquid. The wizards sold the poison and the cordial to the slavers in exchange for supplies. They also sold captured desert clansmen and women. Her hands tightened on the pestle and ground more berries to dust.
She added the powder to a simmering pot and stirred. A hand with long slender fingers grasped her shoulder. She stiffened. The chief wizard turned her to face him. The stirring stick clattered on the stones. Her eyes met the cruel cold gaze of Mecador, also called Supreme.
     “I’m pleased to see you hard at work. You always seem to be busy, not like these other creatures.” He indicated the women seated in clusters around the courtyard.
     She kept her gaze steady. “Keeping busy makes the days pass.”
     He chuckled. “See that you remember your place.”
     His oily voice made her want to look away. She dare not. To do so would court punishment, something she had avoided since her first year here. “I do what I’m told.”
     His smile raised her to near panic. He stroked her face with a finger. Fear galloped like a runaway burden beast. She fought to control her racing emotions. This man savored fear. She hoped to hide the revulsion she felt.
     “So my dear, I hope you’ve made enough poison. The traders find it useful during their travels. If the jugs fetch prime goods, I’ll bring you a special gift.” His hand brushed her chest.
     Lorana willed herself not to flinch. “There are four jugs of poison. The fifth is cooking. There will be three of the cordial.”
     “Not enough. We need six jars of poison and four cordial. If you can’t fulfill our needs you will be punished.” He pointed to a woman tied to a cross. “Like her.”
     She swallowed hard, trying not to allow the woman’s suffering to show on her face. “There are sufficient berries for the cordial but more thorns are needed. They should be picked before they fall so they have more potency and fewer are needed.” She stared into his eyes. “I could leave the hareem and gather them.”
     His eyes hardened. “The tangle is no place for any woman, especially one soon to be claimed.” His gaze caressed her body. “You’ll be a tasty morsel. The young wizards who compete for a place on the council will be glad to become your master. Which one do you prefer?”
     She wanted to say she had no desire for either man. “The choice isn’t mine to make.” His laughter reminded her of the cry of a carrion crow, the huge black birds she’d seen at home hovering over dead animals.
     “How true. Mine is the choice.” He cupped her breasts. “You are so unlike the women of the hareem. Hair like the dark of night and eyes like the skies of day.” He leaned closer. “I will be the first to taste your sweetness.”
     “You?” She hadn’t meant to speak.
     “Hasn’t Hag Mother told you about the duties of a woman who is a reward?”
     She shook her head. “Just that I would belong to one of two young men.”
     “That’s true. As Supreme, I will school you in your duties to the man who will own you.”

     Lust dissolved the frost in his gray eyes. He licked lips surprisingly thick for his gaunt face. Lorana wanted to run, but she couldn’t show her fear. Her hands shook. She clasped them behind her back.


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2 comments:

Holly Bargo said...

From that excerpt, I hope your heroine finds the dragon to save her from a fate worse than death.

Anonymous said...

You've ratcheted up the tension to close to the breaking point, and made it all the worse for her enforced silence and self-control.