Showing posts with label dragons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dragons. Show all posts

Friday, October 14, 2022

Kestrel's Dance Blog Tour, Pirates & Dragons Oh My!

 


Kestrel's Dance
, Misty Massey

About the Book:

Kestrel, the King's Privateer, is preparing to wait out the annual storm season when she receives an unexpected royal order to capture and deliver a rare creature for the king’s menagerie. Before she can weigh anchor, news reaches Kestrel of a long-ago friend in desperate need of help—in the opposite direction of her assigned voyage. In addition, her ship may be haunted by something big, loud, and terrifying.

Every decision is fraught with danger. Each wrong turn may mean her death or the death of her crew. And Captain Kestrel can walk away from none of them.

Kestrel, the pirate who can whistle up the wind, returns in book two of the Mad Kestrel Series. Captain Kes will defy the king, gamble with her friends' lives, and run the risk of capture by evil mages to get her hands on the magical knowledge so long denied to her.

Check it out on Amazon: http://mybook.to/KestrelsDance
Check out Book One: http://mybook.to/MadKestrel


Love the Mad Kestrel series and want to stay up to date on Misty Massey's next release? Follow Misty on Amazon here: author.to/MistyMassey or check out her website: https://www.mistymassey.com/

Friday, April 26, 2013

W is for Wucaii

 *** This month we are participating in the A to Z Blog Challenge. Check it out! *** 

It's not a zombie book, but it is the latest adult novel I've had released.  You can order it here.  It's a dragon kind of week!


After five hundred years’ labor destroying worlds, half-dragon half-human Aelana returns to her home planet. She expects to be anonymous, but instead she is worshipped as a god. She finds the reincarnation of her centuries-dead first and only love and life begins anew. Little does she know, however, that a shrewd and formidable evil lays in wait, one with the power to undo everything she’s worked for. To maintain the balance of the universe, she must confront and destroy the menace before it annihilates her and everything she loves.

Excerpt
Aelana cowered in the corner of her tent, her blanket pulled over her head. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her forehead resting on them. Muffled, indistinguishable voices drifted through the canvas. Fear beaded sweat on her forehead. What would happen if someone came into her tent? She had given specific orders no one should disturb her, but that didn’t always stop them. They couldn’t find her like this. Bad things might happen if they did.

“Aelana?” a familiar voice drifted into the tiny space. It was low, masculine, and soothing.

She cringed. “Go away, Thoran.”

The canvas door flopped into place, a footstep thudded on the ground.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

She inhaled a shaky breath. “I can’t.”

A few more steps sounded, and his hands wrapped around the outside of the blanket. Panic gripped her chest, and she grabbed the edge of the material.

“I’m worried about you. What’s going on? Why have you been hiding lately?” He tugged on the blanket.

“Thoran, no!” Her grip tightened on the cover.

“Aelana, stop this! You’re acting like a child!”

They played tug-of-war with the blanket for several moments. Aelana’s panic increased, and her only concern was keeping herself covered. Thoran wouldn’t understand, he wouldn’t get it. She didn’t even know what was going on. How could she explain it to anyone else? If the changes scared her, they might utterly freak out others.

“Aelana, you can talk to me. You can trust me!” The strain was evident in his voice. He jerked on the material.

He had more leverage than Aelana, and the blanket slipped from her fingers. A squeak escaped her lips as she tried to fold herself in on her own body. He placed his hands on her knees.

“Aelana, please. Talk to me.” His voice was low, pleading.

Her heart rate increased, her breathing became rapid. The desire to push him away and run into the night, disappearing into darkness, surged through her, but she fought back the urge. She wouldn’t; she couldn’t. He’d come after her. Her resolve faltered. If it had been anyone else, it would have been easy to stay strong, overpower them and leave. Thoran, however, could make her talk, make her open up. He knew her better than anyone. That was both comforting and annoying.

He placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her forearm, pushing gently, attempting to get her to unfurl. “Don’t make me beg.”

With a grunt and a sigh, Aelana threw her arms open and kicked out her legs. Thoran fell backward. She jumped to her feet.

“Is this what you wanted?” she growled. “Are you happy with what you see?”

Thoran moved backward, his eyes wide, his mouth open. She stepped closer and loomed over him.

“Now do you understand why I’ve been hiding?”

Thoran tried to scuttle away, to head out the door. Aelana crouched down and grabbed his collar.

“What’s wrong, Thoran? Talk to me!”

He screamed and slapped her hand away before pushing her over. He crawled out the door, and she collapsed onto her knees. The weight of sadness dropped onto her shoulders. What had she done?

                                                                            * * * *

Aelana jerked awake, her elbows digging into the scales of the Queen’s neck. The Queen shifted slightly but didn’t wake up. Aelana took a deep breath and ran her hand down her face. Quietly and deliberately, she left the comfort of Her Highness’embrace and headed for the cave opening. Standing at the door, her gaze drifted to the peaks and rises silhouetted against the night sky. A few stars twinkled above; others were blotted out by dark clouds of rolling smoke. Aelana caught the faint scent of burning wood on the breeze.

Picking her way across the landscape, her claws scraped against the rocks. Visions of Thoran’s horrified face lingered in her mind. She found a small stream trickling down the mountain side and knelt next to it. Splashing her face with the cool liquid, she sighed and stared into the water. It was too dark to see her reflection, but she didn’t need to. There was a definite reason Thoran ran from her so long ago.

Her eyes were multifaceted, glittering like diamonds. They were no longer deep blue, human-like. Her pale skin wasn’t supple. Though it was still smooth, it was covered in tough scales. Her face was angular, the chin pointed and defined. Small knobs protruded from her forehead, the smallest hint of horns. Pointed ears lay flat against her head. Her teeth were sharp, her canines longer than the others, protruding slightly from her lips when her mouth was closed. Only her hair retained its human quality, rows upon rows of braids that traveled to the middle of her back. Her feet had morphed into powerful claws, and her hands were tipped with razor-sharp nails. She was the perfect mix of human and dragon, powerful and compassionate.

Thoran had asked repeatedly what was wrong, but she dodged his questions and concerns. Eventually, avoiding him all together. It worked for a while, until he barged into her sanctuary. What other choice did he give her but to throw her mutation in his face? Why hadn’t she left? She could have snuck away in the middle of the night. People would have noticed, but they wouldn’t have cared. The whispers would have continued, rumors would have spread, but things would have turned out differently, maybe better. Her leaving would have saved a lot of heartache.

She gazed at the sky. More stars were blotted out by dark smoke columns, and the stench of burning forest grew stronger. Slowly, Aelana made her way back to the cave. Thoran shouldn’t have found out like that, but there was no way to reveal it delicately. Still, given the chance to do it again, she’d approach the situation differently.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

T is for Treasure--Greater Treasures, that is!

This is my latest book, published April 16.  No zombies in it, though.  Vern, my dragon, does not like zombies. He says it's the equivalent of that leftover casserole you forgot coming to life and breaking out of the refrigerator to exact mindless vengeance.


Cover art by Sarah-Jane Lehoux


Being a private detective in the border town of the Faerie and Mundane worlds isn’t easy, even for a dragon like Vern.   Still, finding the wayward brother of a teary damsel in distress shouldn’t have gotten so dangerous.  When his partner, Sister Grace, gets poisoned by a dart meant for him, Vern offers to find an artifact in exchange for a cure.  However, this is no ordinary trinket—with a little magic power, it could control all of mankind.  Can Vern find the artifact, and will he sacrifice the fate of two worlds for the life of his best friend?

Purchase it on Kindle at http://www.amazon.com/Greater-Treasures-DragonEye-Novella-ebook/dp/B00CEH934G  

Excerpt:



Given the day I was having, it came as no surprise that when I got home, I found the dogs sprawled in a drugged sleep and the sounds of things being overturned from within the warehouse. I decided not to bother with subtlety, but I did resist the urge to burst in with flames going full-blast. I had questions first.
Naturally, I walked straight in to find an automatic weapon—yep, a bona fide black-market AK-47—and I thought only Faerie lived their clichés—and six other weapons of various types pointed at me. I didn't stop, just closed the door with my tail while I strolled in slow and placid-like. My visitors had shaved heads, faces painted white with clown paint, and black t-shirts with swastikas in white circles.
"If you're the housekeeping service, you're fired."
"You stay right there, or we gonna fire you!" said one guy from the sidelines as he held his nunchucks at the ready.
What'd he think he would do—whack me on the nose? I turned to the one holding the assault rifle. "Scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one, weren't you?"
"He's right. You just stay still while we search the place."
"The place" was a ten-thousand square foot warehouse with offices on the upper floor. Boxes I still hadn't opened line the walls and made a maze in the second warehouse room. I settled myself on the floor and rested my head on my crossed arms. "Go ahead. I get half of anything you find."
They stared at me, unbelieving. I smiled back. Mr. Cooperation, that's me. Finally, Big Gun snarled for the others to get to work. As he turned his back on me, Nunchucks muttered, "I got your half. Don't think I don't." Guess he learned such witty repartee in Hitler Youth Summer Camp.
I watched and listened and waited. With eight teenage skinheads trashing my place, it was only a matter of time.
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," I suggested as Nunchucks made a grab for the doorknob to Grace's workshop.
"You gonna stop me?" He turned the knob.
"Nope," I said as I closed my ears and my eyes. Even so, I saw the otherworldly light and heard the harmonious roar of Divine Vengeance followed by Mundane screams.
"The Heavenly Host on the other hand…"
I waited until the screams died down to whimpers before opening my eyes and rising.
Four of the skinheads were unconscious. Three may as well have been; they were curled up in the fetal position, whimpering. Nunchucks was actually crying for his mommy. Big Guns had collapsed to the floor as well, the gun thrown away from him. He was sitting and rocking and making high-pitched keening through the roof of his mouth.
I'd tell Grace to tone down her wards some, except that the effect is directly proportional to the evilness of the intent. Suddenly, I was feeling a little shaky about my earlier entrance.
Knights out of the armor now. I went around, collecting weapons in the office trash can and poking through pockets. I found the usual stuff—driver's licenses, credit cards, petty cash… One kid had a condom; wishful thinking on his part, I knew. Another had a report card. MLK High. Wonder if he was the one beating up Faerie kids? Honor roll grades, too. Of all the years I've battled evil, there were still some things I didn't understand.
As I was returning Big Guns' (aka Rick Matherston's) wallet back into his jacket pocket, he blinked and focused on me.
"What was that?"
"Angels, kid." Actually a kind of magical shadow of the real thing, but close enough.

"But I thought angels were—"
"There's a reason why their first words are usually 'Fear not!' whenever they meet a human."
His eyes returned to their unfocused stare. I almost felt sorry for him. Then I noticed the letters FARISLAR tattooed on his knuckles. Faerie slayer.