I have some really great news! So, Knight of Fire, Book 2 in the Terra series, was slated to release April 25th. Well, the release date has been bumped up. The book will be releasing April 11th at MLR Press. Next Friday! Woo hoo!
Initially, the book will only be on MLR's site, but it will be rolling out very quickly to Amazon.com, AllRomance eBooks, Barnes & Noble, and other book retailers. I know Amazon is the one a lot of folks watch and unfortunately, I don't know when it'll hit there. All depends on how fast Amazon uploads the file. I've had some books go live there the same day as their release, others that weekend, some have taken a week. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed it'll go up there on the 11th!
Knight of Fire is a hefty story at 88k, a bit longer than the first book in the Terra series, To the Other Side. And I loved every minute of writing it :-D It was awesome to go back to that world and work with the Terra boys again.
With the release date less than a week away now, I thought I better get on with sharing a sneak peek! And so, here you go! This is the first chapter from the book and will give a little re-introduction to the Torran, Karrick, and the others in the Terra gang. Hope everyone enjoys this sneak peek and the full novel when it releases next week!
Blurb:
Once in the kingdom of Ocassus, humans and dragons shared the lands as allies. That time has passed into legend. But there's one who wants to see it return.
As a Dragon Speaker, Torran is gifted with the rare ability to understand dragons. He knows dragons aren't the vicious, mindless creatures many believe them to be and uses his gift to save them. It's a lonely task. He's never found a partner who understands him. He doesn't believe he ever will.
Sir Karrick Brenton is a Knight of the Crown and a man with secrets...one in particular that draws him to Torran. They come from different positions in life, but never has he met anyone he feels more kindred to than Torran.
When Torran is requested to come to the capital city of Dragon's Landing, both he and Karrick realize their passion for each other. As he seeks to help the king, soon dangers to the crown shift to him, Karrick, and their friends.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Torran lowered to one knee, brushing his fingertips over the grass,
dirt, and dead leaves. He looked back the way they’d come, then forward again.
“The trail’s gone.”
An annoyed huff broke over the soft birdcalls of the forest. Torran
didn’t need to look to know which of his companions the impatience came from.
“It can’t be gone,” Zain said. “The bloody thing burns its way
across the ground. Those sheep it killed and ate were about as cooked as if
they’d been spitted over a fire.”
Torran glanced at Zain. Dressed in his usual black to blend with
the shadows, Zain reclined on the trunk of a large tree. Waves of ebony hair
spilled past Zain’s shoulders, two braids at his temples ending with silver
beads that glinted in the fading sunlight.
If he was going to put a bet on anyone throwing shite at him for
losing the trail, his coin would’ve gone on Zain. Torran motioned with his hand
to the surrounding forest. “Do you see any burned ground? The trail vanished
back at the stream, as if the damn thing disappeared or took to the sky.” He
turned on his knee to see Bryson. “The things don’t fly, do they?”
His earthy brown eyes scanning the area, Bryson shook his head. “I
don’t know. All that I’ve read on Nightmares hasn’t said they have that power,
but not much is known about them. Very few of them have ever crossed over from
the Underworld and I’m pretty sure anyone who’s seen them in the Underworld
hasn’t come back.”
As Bryson was a witch and Gatekeeper between two worlds, Terra and
Earth, Torran more than trusted his knowledge of such things.
His voice soft and musical, Larkin spoke up. “As a creature of the
Underworld, if Nightmares are akin to demons, then maybe they can disappear and
manifest anywhere they want. Once they’re in this world, that is. The spiritual
boundaries between this world and the Underworld keep them there, unless
they’re given permission to cross through summoning.”
If there was one other in their group who’d have even more
knowledge of demons than Bryson, it’d be Larkin. While Lark had the most
beautiful gift with his voice and skills as a minstrel, he was equally cursed
with his second-sight, which allowed him to see and speak to the dead. Small in
build, exquisitely beautiful in his young face, eyes of dark blue, and hair so
black it had a bluish sheen in the sunlight, Lark’s physical appearance seemed
far too delicate for him to carry such a heavy gift. Yet he bore it without
complaint…save one. It kept Lark from being with the man he wanted.
“Fucking Gethin,” Zain spat out. He bent down, scratching his
silver fox companion, Kit, behind one ear. “He got what he deserved when the
bloody thing killed him.”
Lark sat on the ground, pulling Ghost onto his lap and stroking the
white cat. “You know I always argue with you that no one deserves to be killed,
but on him I have to agree.”
Zain ran a hand over Lark’s hair. “You know it makes me happy when
you agree with me.”
“Aye, because it’s such a rare occurrence.”
Soft laughter moved through the group.
Torran brought his gaze to Aleric, the newest in their band of
misfits, as he liked to call them all. Even when Aleric laughed or smiled,
sadness still haunted the elf’s eyes, as though it never fully left him. And it
probably didn’t. Aleric had turned his back on his family, his society, his
position as a prince among elves, all to search for his lost lover. “What do
you think, mate? Any elvish lore on how to hunt a Nightmare?”
Aleric tipped his head back, looking to the sky. “I’m afraid not,
dear Dragon Speaker. Elves, unlike humans, are intelligent enough to not summon
such things.”
Zain flipped a hand toward Bryson. “If that bastard warlock,
Gethin, could summon it, why can’t you summon it to a place already set up for
us to trap it? You’re a lot stronger than he was.”
Bryson slowly brought his gaze to Zain. “Because I can’t send out a
summoning spell hoping it latches onto the Nightmare we want, instead of
bringing over another one.”
“I say you give it a go. If you do call up the wrong one, then send
it back.”
Bryson rolled his eyes at Zain. “It’s not fishing. If I catch one I
don’t like, it’s a little trickier than tossing it back into the water.”
Garrett stepped forward, his blue eyes focused on the ground, his
handsome face concentrated. Same as Bryson, Garrett had been born in the other
world, Earth, though he felt Garrett spent more time in Terra than on the other
side these days to be with Bryson.
Garrett ran his fingers through his golden blond hair in a
thoughtful gesture. “When horses gallop, for a split second between strides
they have all four feet off the ground. They’re flying over it. What if when the Nightmare gallops, it does the
same thing, but stays hovering? Or maybe skimming the ground?”
Bryson slipped his arm around Garrett’s waist, kissing him on the
cheek with smiling lips. “I love how since you’ve spent more time here, that
beautiful mind of yours applies what you know from the other side to Terra.”
“Aye, he’s bloody brilliant,” Zain said, sarcasm thick in his
voice. “Now if only his pretty little mind could figure out where the beast ran
off to, then we’d be getting somewhere.”
Garrett fixed Zain with a glare. “I apologize, I was giving you the
chance to track it, since you said you’d be able to find it by high sun. And now, the sun’s setting.”
Zain lifted his chin with a defiant tilt. “I was letting Tor do the
tracking, because —”
“Shh!” Torran snapped his hand up.
Underneath Zain’s and Garrett’s bickering was…silence. Far too much
silence for the forest.
Torran looked at King, the black unicorn stallion and perhaps the
only creature the Nightmare feared. The stallion stood motionless. Only King’s
ears and nostrils moved as he listened and scented the air. Torran gazed
through the forest. To his right was a small clearing. The forest all around
was thick, but not as dense as in spring and summer. With it now early winter,
many trees had lost their leaves and the vegetation was going dormant.
He turned in a slow circle. His senses alert, sensitive to the
slightest movement and sound. He knew this feeling. Having spent his life
wandering forests and mountains, he knew how to read changes in the animals and
land and at that moment, his skin tingled in warning.
Birds burst from the trees, screaming in frantic, startled cries.
Loud chirrups, similar to those of the birds, rose over them, but as they came
through Torran’s ears they translated into words.
Her long, serpentine neck stretched out, rainbow feathered wings
tight to her body, Rose dove from the sky. At her side, the little white
dragon, Wynn, kept pace.
“It’s coming! From the
south!”
Torran pointed out to the forest. “There!”
Bryson grabbed Garrett’s hand, dragging him into a run as he
sprinted forward. “Get across the clearing! We’ll use the space to trap it!”
Torran raced with the others. King cantered behind them to guard
their backs.
A high-pitched roar echoed through the forest. The unearthly sound
sent a jolt of cold fear through Torran’s heart. From behind, branches and
brush snapped and cracked.
Halfway across the clearing, Torran stopped and spun around.
King slid to a halt, flipping his head in silent demand for Torran
to run with the others.
Torran flung his hand back toward his companions. “I can’t shoot
the arrows from there! Go with them! Guard them!”
King hesitated, then charged after the group.
Reaching back to his quiver, Torran yanked out one of the arrows
Bryson had made. He lifted his bow, nocked the arrow, and aimed for the far
left corner of the clearing. He willed his hands to be steady, prepared to
fire…and froze.
Its body formed as a horse, the Nightmare crashed out of the
forest. Smoke and flames blew from its nostrils. Its mane and tail whipped
orange and red with the wind, moving as raging fire. Never, not even on the darkest
night, had Torran seen anything so black as the Nightmare’s coat. It seemed to
absorb all light that touched it. As suspected, with the speed the Nightmare
galloped, its smoldering hooves barely skimmed the ground. Speed that was going
to bring the creature upon him in only a handful of his rapid heartbeats.
Torran snapped himself to the task at hand. He released the arrow.
As it took to the air, hidden runes shone silvery-blue with the warding spell
Bryson had imbued it with. Torran only took the blink of time he needed to know
the arrow would land where he’d intended and had his second nocked and shot. He
had to get all four in the ground—north, south, east, and west—to trap the
Nightmare.
“Torran, get back!” Bryson yelled.
Torran put the third arrow to the bow.
The Nightmare screamed again.
In his peripheral vision, Torran saw it open its mouth to reveal
its sharp teeth. Its pure red eyes were locked on him. It lowered its head,
large horns curling off the sides similar to a ram’s.
Steeling himself, Torran shot the third arrow and reached for the
last.
Twin blazes of fire blasted down from the sky, Rose and Wynn aiming
at the Nightmare. The demon steed charged through the dragon fire.
Torran’s breath rushed from him. Dragon fire hadn’t stopped the
nether being. Hadn’t even slowed it. In the span of a heartbeat, he had to make
a decision, shoot the last arrow or dodge the Nightmare and risk not only
letting it go free, but it attacking his friends.
Torran shot the arrow.
The wet snap of his right arm filled Torran’s ears over the
Nightmare’s roaring. He flew through the air and crashed, tumbling, rolling
over the ground. Torran came to a stop on his back and tried to shove himself
up on his left arm. The Nightmare charged for him again.
Through his pain, a vision flashed to the front of Torran’s mind— a
knight, his armor radiant in the sun, a royal blue cloak billowing out behind
him. The knight’s black hair moved with the wind, a few strands drifting near
his brilliant green eyes. Tall, strong, and a face so beautiful, Torran’s heart
ached at nothing more than the thought of it.
Sir Karrick Brenton. Why in these final seconds before being
trampled and ripped apart by the Nightmare was he thinking of the Thirteenth
Legion Captain?
A fierce equine cry of challenge rang through the clearing.
Hoof beats pounded behind Torran. King sailed over him in a
powerful jump. The black unicorn landed between him and the Nightmare, rearing
to full height. Silver light spiraled up his white alicorn.
The Nightmare slid to a halt, half-rearing and twisting away. It
galloped back the way it had come. His ears pinned, King gave chase. The
Nightmare reached the edge of the barrier and slammed into it, as if hitting an
invisible wall. The nether steed fell half to its side, but scrambled up.
Frantic, it began galloping again.
Relief surged through Torran. It was trapped. The wards on the
arrows had worked.
His relief was short-lived as his pain demanded to be known. His
vision blackened with the force of it. Torran dropped back to the ground. The
thunder of hoof beats and desperate cries of the Nightmare filled his ears. It
might trample him yet, but even if it did, his mates were safe. Bryson would
find a way to banish the nether beast now.
Strong hands grabbed him. A deep voice shouted orders Torran didn’t
comprehend.
Torran opened his eyes, seeing only a ring of shining armor around
him. A face moved over him, taking over his field of vision. Beautiful. So
achingly beautiful. Ebony hair framed the handsome face and eyes the color of
spring leaves focused on him.
“Sir Karrick?”
A smile broke over Karrick’s lips. “Aye. Quite the mess you’ve
gotten yourself in, Dragon Speaker Torran.”
His vision clearing, Torran saw it was Karrick’s knights surrounding
him, shields braced before themselves in a steel wall, swords drawn and points
sticking out.
Karrick moved to Torran’s left side. Taking Torran’s arm, he tossed
it around his neck. “I need to get you outside the barrier.”
“I can walk.”
“No, you can’t. You don’t realize the extent of your injuries yet.”
One arm behind Torran’s back, Karrick shoved his other under Torran’s legs and
lifted him. “Knights! Fall back!”
Pressed against Karrick’s cool, hard armor, a sense of safety began
to overcome Torran’s fear.
Karrick moved toward the edge of the clearing, the knights walking
with him and keeping formation. He passed over the barrier to the edge of the
forest and gently set Torran on the ground.
Zain stood beside Karrick and jabbed his index finger down at
Torran. “You’re a damned fool! Brave as fuck and just as stupid!”
Aleric moved in front of Torran. “Fools usually are brave. They
don’t have the sense to get away from danger.”
Lark knelt beside Torran, resting a hand on Torran’s left shoulder.
“We can talk about his foolishness later. He needs help.”
Torran struggled to sit up and once again, Karrick’s hands were on
him, lending strength to him. “Worry about me later. Where’s the damn
Nightmare?”
Lark pointed to the far corner of the clearing. “King has it pinned
in a corner of the barrier. Now Bryson and Garrett are taking over.”
Torran looked to where Lark pointed. King had his head lowered, his
horn aimed at the demon steed. The Nightmare snorted and stomped. It made a
desperate leap to the right. King cut in the same direction, blocking it.
Bryson and Garrett walked toward it. Garrett carried the tall,
knotted wood walking staff that Bryson had enchanted with wards of protection.
Ranger, Garrett’s big, scruffy, grey hound, walked at his side. Wynn streaked
out of the sky, landing on Bryson’s shoulder.
More movement above caught Torran’s eye. He glanced up as Rose
slammed into his chest. Slightly smaller than Wynn, about the size of a cat, he
wrapped his left arm around Rose, holding her to him. “There, now. Don’t be
upset. I’m alive. Just a bit banged up.”
Wearing a pitying look, Zain shook his head at him. “More than a
bit, judging by that bone sticking out of your arm.”
Torran moved his head to his right, but Karrick had already wrapped
his royal blue cloak around it.
Karrick touched him under the chin, tipping Torran’s head up to
meet his gaze. “I don’t think you want to look at it.”
Torran gazed into Karrick’s eyes. What Karrick had said moments
ago, that his mind and body didn’t realize the extent of his injuries, couldn’t
have been truer. He tried to flex his left leg. Pain stabbed through his knee.
He buckled forward, clenching his teeth against crying out, but a growl still
escaped him.
Karrick pulled Torran against him. “Try not to move much. You don’t
want to hurt yourself further. Bryson will be able to help you.”
Zain snorted. “Providing our dear witch doesn’t get himself killed
first.”
Aleric sighed. “That hope might not have much chance, given what
he’s doing.”
Zain looked toward Bryson. “What the bloody fuck is he doing? Trying to make friends with
it?”
His hands raised before himself, Bryson walked slowly toward the
Nightmare. “Easy, now. We don’t want to hurt you. We want to help you.”
The Nightmare snorted and shook its head.
Bryson and Garrett stopped beside King, Bryson resting a hand on
the unicorn, his gaze still on the Nightmare. “I know you’re confused and
frightened. You don’t understand this world. You were ripped away from your
home and abused by that warlock. But I want to help you get back to your home.”
The flames of the Nightmare’s mane and tail burned lower.
Bryson turned toward two nearby trees beside each other. He pulled
his wand from its narrow leather case on his left hip. He knelt and smoothed a
hand over the dirt. Hovering the tip of his wand over the dirt, he began
flicking it in quick, short movements.
Though he couldn’t see what Bryson was writing, Torran knew Bryson
was etching runes in the ground to prepare for sending the Nightmare back to
the Underworld.
Bryson reached in the pouch belted around his waist, going for the
casting herbs Torran had watched him prepare before they left on this venture.
Bryson explained the blend contained valerian, cedar, rosemary, and acacia, all
anointed in patchouli oil. He didn’t really understand what it all would do,
but he’d learned years ago he didn’t have to understand how Bryson’s magic
worked. It worked. That’s all that mattered.
Bryson scattered a handful of the herbs over his markings on the
ground and tossed two more into the air between the trees. He held his hands
outward and flames burst to life before the two trees, sparkling in the air as
the herbs ignited. Their sharp, pungent scent spread through the clearing. The
space between the trees became hazy, as if looking toward the horizon on a
burning hot day.
Bryson faced the Nightmare, pointing toward the trees. “Think of
your home and walk toward these trees. Once you cross over the runes, the spell
will read your thoughts and open a path back to your home.”
The Nightmare took a step forward, but stopped and glanced at King.
The unicorn backed up, giving the nether steed more space.
The Nightmare moved with cautious steps. It neared the line of
runes and stopped. Its nostrils flared as it scented the area.
Torran wondered if it could smell the difference between good magic
and evil.
Staring at the space between the trees, the Nightmare crossed the
line of runes. As its front hooves passed over, the scenery between the trees
shifted. Rather than the forest, craggy cliffs met a black and red sky. Steam
rose from crevices in the cracked ground. A bubbling stream flowed through a
valley of grayish grass.
The Nightmare let out a rough whinny, the closest to a mortal sound
Torran had ever heard from it. It looked back at Bryson and bowed its head.
Bryson nodded his head once. “You’re welcome.”
The Nightmare launched between the trees. Rather than pass through
them, it disappeared. At least, from Terra. It ran across the gray valley, head
high, flaming tail flagged.
The image of the Nightmare running free wavered and receded until
it was gone, leaving only the forest and trees as before Bryson had cast the
spell. Bryson sagged to the ground, breathing hard, sweat shining on his face.
Garrett dropped instantly beside him, wrapping his arms around Bryson.
Seeing Bryson’s exhaustion in using his power and knowing everyone
was now safe, Torran couldn’t hold back his own pain. He started to lay back,
Karrick guiding him down. “Bloody…damn…shite…fuck…”
Zain motioned down to him. “There we go, now. The excitement’s over
and he’s feeling his injuries.”
Torran glared at him. “You can stop being so all-knowing about my
damn injuries and do something to help me!”
Zain held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Sorry, mate.
Not much I can do. And the one who can looks as though he drained himself
sending that thing back to where it belonged.”
Leaning on Garrett and making his way toward them, Bryson called
out, “I just need a few minutes. I’ll be fine.”
Lark’s slender brows drew closer in a look of concern. “I’ve never
seen you so affected by a spell.”
Bryson offered him a strained, half-smile. “That’s because this was
a triple casting. A psychic spell to look into the Nightmare’s mind to locate
its home, a banishing spell to take it from this world, and a sealing spell to
close the pathway. It took a lot of energy to support it all.” His gaze went to
Torran and he rushed forward the last few steps. He slid to his knees,
carefully pulling Karrick’s blood-soaked cloak from Torran’s arm.
Torran glanced toward his arm. “How bad…?” His last word trailed
off. His stomach churned as he looked at the piece of bone which had ripped
through skin. He dropped his head back to the ground, the bump sending lights
flickering behind his closed eyelids.
Karrick rested a hand on Torran’s sweaty forehead. “I warned you
not to look.”
“That’s just how he is,” Zain said. “He always does the opposite of
what he’s told.”
Torran grimaced as another wave of nausea and pain washed through
him. “Stop it, you damned arse. I’m too close to passing out to argue with
you.”
Bryson laid a hand on Torran’s chest. “You’re wasting too much
energy and breath arguing with him. You’ll have plenty of chances to set him
right later.” He looked up at Zain and Lark. “I need you two to get some solid,
straight sticks so I can brace his arm. I’m going to try to get the bone set, or
as close to set as I can out here. I’ll probably have to reset it at the Gate.
But I need to get the bleeding to stop.”
Lark grabbed Zain by the wrist, pulling him to follow. “We’ll be
back as fast as we can.”
Bryson looked at Aleric. “Hand me the water skin, please.”
Aleric moved to Bryson’s side, pulling the strap of the heavy water
skin over his head. “What else can I do to help?”
“I was going to rinse the blood away, but you can do that. But hold
on for a moment…” Bryson reached for the satchel Garrett carried and opened it.
He pulled out a wooden cup. “Fill this, then you can use all the water you need
to rinse the wound area.” He turned back to digging in his bag.
“Is there anything my men or I can do?” Karrick asked.
Sorting his herbs, Bryson asked, “Do you have horses nearby?”
Karrick nodded. “We left our mounts at the stream with some men to
rest while we scouted the area.”
“Hopefully they’re still there and didn’t break away when the
Nightmare ran through. If you could, send some of your men back to bring a
horse. He’s not going to be able to walk out of here and we came on foot.”
In response, Karrick began issuing orders to some of his men.
Torran forced his eyes open, gazing up at Karrick, still wondering
if he was truly looking upon the knight or if Karrick was a figment in a dream.
His voice left him ragged, pain lacing through him. “What’re you doing here?”
Karrick glanced down at him. “I got word that the Nightmare had
attacked more livestock and gathered my men to see if we could finally hunt it
down. When we went to where it’d attacked, I learned you gentlemen were already
on the move tracking it. We arrived as you were shooting the arrows.” A warm
smile rose to his lips. “That was a very selfless act on your part.”
“At this moment I’m more inclined to agree with Zain on it being a
stupid one.”
“And yet if you had to do it again, I have a feeling you’d do the
same.” Karrick cupped Torran’s cheek. “Now enough talking before you get
scolded again from the Master Witch.”
“Right now, I want to know what the Master Witch is doing.”
Bryson held the mug in his hand, swirling the contents inside. “I’m
mixing some herbs to put you in a deep sleep and spare you the pain of
resetting the bone.” His voice quieter, he added, “You saved us.”
“King would’ve protected you all.”
“He did make sure we crossed the clearing safely, but you stopped
the Nightmare from being able to reach us completely.”
Garrett lightly squeezed Torran's shoulder. “You’re too damn
humble. Take the credit for saving our asses.”
Despite his pain, Torran smiled.
Bryson shifted closer to him. He slipped a hand under Torran’s
head, helping him to sit up slightly, and put the mug to his lips. “Here. Drink
it all.”
Torran forced all the bitter liquid down. Bryson gently laid him
back with Karrick helping. Torran could feel his muscles loosening, all
tightness unraveling from his body. His pain began to yield as drowsiness
spread through him.
Rose sat beside him, her long neck curved as she stared down at
him.
Torran looked into her golden eyes. “I’ll be fine, dearest. Don’t
worry.”
She let out a few soft chirrups. “I’ll worry until you wake again.”
His words came slower and slurred. “I know you will. Thought it was
worth telling you not to.”
Bryson rested a hand on Torran’s cheek. “Relax, now. Try to think
of something that makes you happy. It might help you to have good dreams.”
Torran managed a single nod. His gaze moved away from Rose to
Karrick. A hand grasped his—strong, rough, callused from countless hours of
holding a sword. Torran’s eyes began to close on their own and he clung to
Karrick’s image as he was pulled into unconsciousness.
Copyright 2014 by S.J. Frost and MLR Press
