Join the authors at #MFRWHooks for some great excerpts. Mine is found at https://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com and is from Seppal a romantasy
BLURB:
In Seppal, the prophecy has been heard and the Three and Three are awaited.
Ranal’s dead mam once told him one day he would learn why he had been born. He has found two companions, boys like himself who have no home and become seaweed gatherers like he has been. His two friends are developing strange skill. He can see no change in himself but he desires a sword. Then they will be three, Seer, Healer and Warrior
Amera returns to the clan after spending the summer with the king windsteed stallion and six yearlings. What she finds is the slaughtered herd and also the clan. Only one person remains barely alive and tells her Bethera, her cousin and almost sister has been taken by the priestesses and their guards. Not knowing what to do, Amera follows the king stallion to a sheltered glen and a huge cave complex. When the stallion calls her, she follows him to the priestesses’ keep and manages to rescue her cousin and another young girl. During the next few years, her friends develop talents and are becoming the Seer and the Healer. Amera wants to become the warrior but she can’t imagine how she can gain a sword.
Now the Three and Three must join to bring justice, healing, order and change to Seppal.
EXCERPT:
Silence brought Ranal awake. Last night when he’d curled
in his blankets for sleep, the wind and rain of the first autumn storm had
begun. Slowly, he uncurled from his cocoon and walked to the opening leading to
the hilltop above the hidden underground shelter. Before leaving his home, he
grabbed three burlap sacks,
Alone. Eerie silence surrounded him. His mother had died during the last days
of summer. Her body had been sealed behind a wall of rocks he had carefully
fitted together. A small cell-like room had become her final resting place.
An
ache of sadness caused his heart to flitter. For a moment, loneliness filled
his thoughts. After drawing several deep breaths, he lifted the sacks. Mam had
been his only companion for the thirteen years of his life. Not long enough but
she had taught him how to survive.
He
held the sacks over his shoulder and climbed the stone steps to the surface.
The flight had been embedded in the sloping wall.
When
he emerged, a slice of sunlight pierced the heavy cloud cover. A grove of trees
thrust dark shapes that merged with the gloomy atmosphere. He walked to the
narrow path leading to the shore. He hugged the wall of rocks promising safety.
The other side was a steep drop to the ground. The earth beneath his feet slick
from the rains made each step an adventure. When he reached the end, he
released a held breath,
Ranal
began collecting seaweed and hoped to finish before scavengers from town made
their way to the shore. First he separated the strands of blue from the tangled
clumps. When he filled a bag, he set his spoils at the foot of the path. Next
he collected red strands. He finally filled a bag with green. Before dragging
the filled bags up the path, he pressed each one to remove as much water as
possible.
When
he reached the top of the path he pushed several rocks to cover the opening. He
dropped the sacks on the flat rock facing the entrance and hurried down to make
himself presentable for his trip to the market. He washed in the fountain pool.
Then he dressed in his best clothes. He realized he had grown. The breeches
allowed his socks to show and the tunic sleeves bared his wrists.
A
smile crossed his face as a memory unfolded. Mam had studied him from her sick
bed. “The day will come when you’ll be tall and muscular. You’ll become a
handsome man. Don’t grow up too soon.” But he’d had no choice.
He
reached for the boots he’d worn days ago and found his toes were cramped. Ranal
shrugged and went to the room where heaps of robes and lines of boots were
stored. He had no desire to wear one of the black robes that were women’s wear.
He left the room to comb his hair and braid the dark strands into a single
plait.
Ranal
strode up the steps to the plateau. Gray clouds roiled like the waves of the
sea. After hoisting the sacks, he walked to the edge of the mesa. Before
descending. He recalled Mam’s words. “Never take the same way down or up. Don’t
make a path anyone can follow. Someday, you will learn why you were born. You
must remain safe until that day comes.”
He scanned the slope and planned his descent. With the bags over his
