Check out the first chapter either by going over to Amazon and clicking the cover, or you can find it here as well.
In Stolen, Tarek grows even more in love in the princess, he seeks a way of escape with the hope of a life with her someday.
However, Darnel will not give up his own plans for her, either and he's willing to do whatever it takes to keep her in line.
The prequel to The White Road Chronicles is a little different than the novels about a young girl searching for her home so she can learn who she really is.
Tarek's story comes off a bit darker than the novel stories. You will get a peek at his dysfunctional family life. Of course, you'll also get a better look at Racah, too.
I've enjoyed taking this look at Tarek's history and have grown fond of him over the course of writing the White Road Tale Novella series.
I believe you will enjoy the shorter stories, too. But I did want people to know and expect them to be a little different, a little more daring .
Oh, and here's a heads up. Starting Thursday and ending on Saturday, Captured will be free!!
That's right, free! If you've not checked out these books yet, now's the time to give them a try.
Let me know what you think.
Also, if you'd like updates on what's going on with my books and new projects I'll be working on in 2015, sign up for my newsletter: Jackie Castle's Story World.
Have you wondered what "really" happened between Tarek and Alyra while they both lived in Racah?
Since Alyra's memories have been stolen from her, she hasn't been able to remember much about her childhood and much of her life in Racah. There's been many holes in her memories which have left her with many questions, especially questions about why Tarek has been so insistant about pursuing her across Alburnium, but not returning her to Racah.
The White Road Tales explains what happened during her "lost years" and the level of deceit and ruthlessness Lord Darnel, self-proclaimed King of Racah will stoop to.
In Captured, we followed Tarek and his family into Racah where they tried to adjust and make the best of their situation. His father insisted everyone would cooperate and most importantly, lay low and avoid contact with the royals at all costs.
However, no matter how much Tarek tried to follow his parent's directives, he simply couldn't stand by and watch the Princess make a life-threatening mistake.
The story continues
Stolen is the second book in the fantasy romance.
Tarek closes his eyes, but she is always there. Princess. His love. She has stolen his heart. Despite his parents’ warnings about being involved with the royals, he steals away to be with her.
Together, they look for the way out of the evil kingdom of Racah. Their love grows. Tarek is desperate to get Princess away from King Darnel, but the dark lord has other plans and powers.
Secret medallions and powers, secret love and temptation, and secret passages amid confusion combine to bring a tale of love … perhaps stolen. Here's a sample from Chapter One:
Tarek crumpled the scrap of
parchment in the palm of his hand. Since Ben slipped him the note, he'd read
the scrawled words over a hundred times.
Meet me tonight at our secret
place.
No signature. But then, neither
of them ever addressed their correspondences in case one was intercepted by the
wrong people.
Tarek grinned as he shifted on
his narrow cot. The mat of woven reeds rustled under his weight. He froze,
listening to the silent cottage, not wishing to wake anyone. Through the open
window, the moon still hung low in the sky. He could sneak out early, have a
fire built and ready.
Anticipation tingled inside his
chest as he rested his chin on the sill. He breathed in a lung full of pine
scented air to steady his racing heart. The snow had melted a few weeks ago,
but the air remained cool at night. Yes, he’d leave now, he couldn’t wait any
longer. He eased off the bed and began to gather his things.
He searched the pile of dirty
clothes for his sweater and wondered if, Vesia, his twelve-year-old sister, had
borrowed it again. Her soft snores came from the other side of the blanket
separating the sleeping loft they shared. He decided the risk of waking her
wasn’t worth the extra warmth.
Quietly, he slipped into his
boots, then slung his quiver and bow over his shoulder. Scooting onto the
ledge, he listened once more for his sister's steady breathing. Vesia couldn't
find out he'd defied their parent's rule about staying away from the Royals.
He scanned the shadowy yard for
any late-night activity. Princess always wanted to meet at midnight when most
in the castle were sound asleep and she could sneak out without being detected.
Tarek hooked the tip of his
boot into a crevice between the logs of the cottage wall then lowered himself down
far enough to where he could let go and land on his feet. A shock wave of pain
shot up his legs, but he shook it off after a few trembling steps.
His first stop was the woodpile
near the side of the house where he’d stashed his packed hunter's bag after
receiving Princess’s note. The lid of his coin jar poked out from the dirt
hole. He checked the contents to make sure Pop hadn’t found his stash. The old
man wouldn’t think twice about “borrowing” the whole lot to get him a seat at
the gambling table in the tavern.
After burying the jar deeper
behind the woodpile, Tarek searched the dark grounds and servant’s cottages
again to make sure all was clear. Seeing no movement, he took off at a jog
toward the woods.
His steady pace caused beads of
sweat to gather over his back. By time he reached the deep woods, he pushed the
hood of his cloak off his head and left the front open to allow the chilled
night air to sweep over him. The sound of a stream told him he was close. He
slowed to a walk and soon spotted a flickering light moments before the smell
of burning wood hit his nose.
She'd already built a fire? That was his girl! He smiled,
pleased she'd been practicing, despite their three week separation. Hopefully,
she'd not set anything in the castle on fire.
He approached the campsite like
a hunter. His steps tread light and his gaze peered through the dense branches
until he caught sight of her red curls. Her back was to him as she faced the
silver tinted pond. She also wore a black cloak with the moon and stars emblem
of Racah on the back. She'd probably swiped the garment from an unsuspecting
soldier.
Tarek stopped and watched
Princess for a moment. She hated that title, but she couldn’t remember her real
name or anything else about her past, and refused to pick a new one. Such a
strange girl. Despite her eccentricities, he loved her more than he ever
thought he was capable of loving another person.
She held her bow and arrow
loaded, but relaxed in her hands, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Was she even
paying attention to her surroundings like he'd taught her? He purposefully
stepped on a twig, snapping it in half. She didn't flinch.
A low growl of irritation
rumbled in his throat. He picked up a small pine cone to throw at her when
suddenly she spun around, pulled back the string and let the arrow go. It hit
the tree trunk two feet from his head.
"Bet you thought I didn't
hear you." She laughed.
He let out a breath and yanked
the arrow loose. "Good thing you're still working on your aim, I
think."
Her hands went to her hips, the
bow dangling between her fingers. "I hit exactly where I intended. I'm
just glad you weren't closer to that tree."
He tossed the arrow down with
his bag and quiver. "Right."
Before he could say another
word, she bound into his arms. "I've really missed you, Tare."
He hugged her back, lifting her
feet off the ground as he spun her around until she laughed. "Missed you
too." Setting her down, he held her at arm's length. Her mouth smiled, but
something seemed off in her golden eyes. They were dull, distracted and kept
darting down instead of meeting his gaze as she usually did. "How have you
been? Everything still peaceful between you and your step-father?"
Her shoulders sagged. "I
really wish you wouldn't call him that. He's just Darnel." She pointed to
the crackling logs. "I built us a fire. While he's busy meeting with his
advisers, I sneak down into the dungeons. Nobody will spy on me there. I can
shoot my bow and build fires unhindered."
"That’s good to hear. I’m
glad you’re practicing." He pulled a blanket from his bag and spread it
beneath a sprawling oak. He sat, leaning back against the tree for support. She
curled up beside him, and wrapped her hands around his arm.
She rested her head against his
shoulder. "It's nice to not feel so incompetent and stupid."
"Hey," He nudged her
head with his shoulder. "What have I told you about saying negative things
about yourself?"
She rolled her eyes. "That
if I can't speak kindly about myself, nobody else will either."
His arm went around her as he
hugged her tighter against him, her body warmth chasing away the evening chill.
"That's right. And you need to be careful about practicing. Make sure
nobody ever sees you."
"I'm trying to be good. I
swear."
He pressed a kiss against her
temple. "You don't have to try. You're already that way naturally. You
only need to be extra careful. I don't want you to take any unnecessary
risks."
She shifted so they were face
to face. Her finger traced a line along the downy hair covering his jawline. He
didn't move, fighting the urge to kiss her.
"I love you so much,
Tare," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands. Her cool fingers
tempered the burning in his cheeks. Strange how a just a few months, some
encouraging words, and providing her with opportunities to figure out her
capabilities had brought such a change.
"I love you, too."
His feelings for her might end up being the death of him, but he no longer
cared. "Someday soon, we won't have to worry about being found out.
Someday, we'll get away from here, find a nice town to settle in and live in
peace."
Her eyes widened, glinting with
excitement. "Have you found the passage the other's used to escape?"
He shook his head. "No,
not yet. Still looking. Maybe while Darnel is gone, we can explore together."
Her lips turned down into a
slight frown. "I'm afraid to leave during the day, while his men are
watching. Though, anymore, it seems I've become invisible again, which is a
good thing. I guess."
Tarek chuckled, shaking his
head. "Why do you say that?"
"Because, they all seem
too preoccupied with some kind of project Master has planned. I try to listen
in. I'm curious over what he's up to now. And why he's suddenly taking these
mysterious trips. When I'm around, they grow quiet. When they wish to talk,
they send me away." Her head rested against his shoulder again. "You
were right about trying to get along with him, though. If I'm not causing
trouble, he seems to forget I even exist."
"Let's keep it that
way."
"I… just… it's…."
"What, love?"
"Lonely."
His heart ached at her
isolation. The servants, along with her tutor, were afraid of her. Or more
accurately, afraid of what happened to those who were assigned to her. A
shudder shot through him at the memory of the blood Darnel spilled when her
last instructor failed to keep her in line.
Tarek narrowly escaped having
his own throat cut, and knew full well, the king kept his daughter isolated and
confined on purpose. Only nobody had figured out what that reason was.
For the next hour, they sat
holding each other, talking about their daily lives.
"Wish we could see each
other more often." She mused after a pause in their conversation.
"Ben grumbles over passing our letters. And I worry what will happen to
him if someone found out."
Tarek considered other possible
ways they could keep in touch. He always made sure to burn the notes she sent
him and told her to do the same.
"Can we meet tomorrow
night?" he asked.
She nodded. "Master won't
return for another couple of days."
"Good. I have an idea, but
I'll need to check on something." He stood, hating how the cold seeped
into the warm place where's she'd rested beside him. After helping her up, he
kicked dirt onto the fire while she shook out his blanket and rolled it to fit
inside his bag. They walked through the woods, fingers entwined.
She squeezed his hand.
"Let's meet a little earlier so we can spend more time together. Can
we?"
He would suffer from lack of
sleep tomorrow already. At least she could sleep during the day, and probably
did, if she wanted. "Yes. I'll come soon as possible."
They stopped near at the edge
of the woods. He didn't want to leave her, but the band of pale pink in the
east told him he needed to return home before Ma got up to start breakfast. And
she was always up before the sun.
Princess grabbed the edge of
his cloak and pulled him down until their faces were only inches apart.
"Thank you for—"
He shook his head, placing a
finger over her lips to stop her words. "You never have to thank me, love.
Trust me, I come out of purely selfish motives. I enjoy spending time with you.
It's what makes this place bearable." His hand hooked around the back of
her neck as he leaned in and brushed her lips with a soft kiss.
"Same here," she
responded in a breathy whisper. As her mouth formed to his, her fingers wound
into the wavy hair at the nape of his neck, sending a pleasant shiver down his
spine. The scent of apples and soap filled him as he buried his face against
her neck. His favorite place. For a long moment, they simply held each other.
Her arms circled around his waist, while he traced circles over her back.
Though Tarek relished these
stolen moments, her closeness caused him to tremble. He hugged her tighter,
wondering at his nervousness. Then, as he considered the nervousness in his
heart, his mind wandered to a time when he found an orphaned fawn in the woods,
so shy and skittish at first. He'd coaxed and bribed it with slices of fruit
and bowls of creamy milk until it finally started eating right out of his
hands. Soon the deer followed him everywhere possible.
Tarek hugged Princess tighter.
Unfortunately, the deer never reached its second year. One day while Tarek was
away in town, a hunter came upon his spindly legged friend. Instead of running
at the sight of danger, it stood still, waiting to see if the stranger would
feed it as Tarek always did, making an easy target for a hungry hunter.
He quickly pushed out of her
embrace.
"We better get back."
He kissed her once more, then waited while she headed toward the garden gates in
the castle wall. Tarek, his heart feeling suddenly empty, headed in the
opposite direction toward the servant's quarter behind the castle.
The cottage remained dark
inside as he circled toward the back and climbed up through his window. Instead
of falling into his bed, he hit something that let out a loud squawk before
throwing him onto the floor. Eyes wide, Tarek stared up into his sister's angry
glare.
"I know I'm going to
regret asking this," she said in a deadly calm and quiet voice. "But
just where have you been all night, brother?"
~~*~~
Stay tuned for the actual release announcement of this book. Please check out Captured's new cover and tell me what you think.
If you'd like to be kept up on new releases, special offers and contests, please sign up for my Newsletter. Lotari has promised to share his special grain cakes recipe at some point, and Granny Fila has said she might be persuaded in sharing one of her secret pie recipes, so long as I only keep it among our closest friends.
Have you already read it? Then tell your friends so they can get it at this great price. After October 20th, I'll be returning it to its normal price.
Breaking News....
My White Road Tales series will be undergoing a couple of changes. Captured will be getting a new cover! I loved the cover it has now, but it doesn't really show what the story is about. So, my cover designer and I decided to give it a more fantasy look.
Next week, keep your eyes open for the new cover revealing. I'll be posting both Captured, and the second in the series Stolen, which continues the tale of Alyra and Tarek's life in Racah as their relationship begins to take off. I'm excited over how the story turned out and think those of you who like romances will enjoy it, too.
There is also a guest appearance of someone from the Chronicle series, but I'm not going to tell you who.
Finally...
So, I'm trying to set up a newsletter in Mail-chimp. Trying being the key word. I'd only send out a letter once every three months. But I intend to include fun stuff and offers I don't include on my blog or social networks.
Once I figure it out, I'll start posting about it and offering some goodies for signing up. It'll be fun. I think.
Lastly...
I simply want to thank those of you who have read my books and written me, left reviews, or befriended me on facebook and twitter. You've made this endeavor such fun. And I'm blessed each day by being able to do what I love most. I hope my stories continue to bless you.
Have you been wondering what really happened between Tarek and Alyra before they escaped from Racah? Well, here's the first part of their story, told from Tarek's point of view.
Captured is the first in the White Road Tales novella trilogy.
What do you think of the cover?
Here's a bit from the first chapter:
Chapter 1
Warnings
A sharp intake of breath alerted Tarek that the note from
his aunt wasn't good news.
Brie, his mother, crumpled the paper in her rough hands,
her shallow-set eyes unfocused. Tarek placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling
nothing but bone under her rough fabric of her dress. Her head snapped up, face
pale as she clutched his arm. "Go find Olden. Quick now. They're
coming."
Ma didn't need to name who they were.
Tarek removed his jacket off the coat rack on his way to
the door.
"I want to come," Vesia's twelve-year-old body
slammed into him, as she grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him to a halt.
Dislodging her grip, he turned to her, bending slightly
until he was level with her green eyes, the same shade as his. Strands of brown
hair fell across her gaunt face. "You don't have anything warm to wrap
yourself in and it's chilly outside. Besides, I'm sure he's at the tavern, and
that place smells of Troll's feet."
Vesia stomped her foot. "I've had to drag him home a
time or two, just like you."
"Please stay." He lowered his voice, whispering.
"Keep Ma calm till I get back."
Folding her arms over her chest, she let out an irritated
snort but nodded in agreement. He tugged at her ear, then hurried out of the
door.
Outside, he slipped into his muddy boots that pinched his
toes. He set off at a slow jog seriously doubting the threat of invasion was as
immanent as Ma feared. His aunt and uncle, who owned the house they currently
occupied, had left everything behind to make a run for it. But Olden, his
father, refused to leave the family home based on rumors. Besides, nobody in
their right mind would waste any effort taking over this sand pit someone had
named DeTiere.
Still, Ma wouldn't rest until Pop was home and they were
making plans on where to go next. Tarek sighed. Another move. For once he'd
love to find a nice town they could all settle down in and stay.
Only the stars and half moon lit the narrow dirt road that
ran north and south through DeTiere. He stopped at a crossroad. To his left,
tall cliffs full of caves and sheer rock walls guarded the eastern boundary,
offering a bit of shelter and security. Tarek shuddered, just not enough. A
cool wind blew sand into his face from miles of open desert lands surrounding
the small oasis.
He turned right toward the town center. Some oasis, he
chuckled. At one time the stone buildings, adorned with clay statues and metalwork
might have been something. Unfortunately, as more of the surrounding villages
were taken over by the Racan King, DeTiere fell into disrepair as people
abandoned their homes and lives.
Bright lights and lively music from the Traveler's Inn
spilled out onto the deserted road. Strange that no matter how destitute
conditions might be, the tavern always seemed to flourish.
Tarek came upon a body lying face down in the dirt.
He immediately recognized the close-cropped gray speckled
head. Taking a couple of tentative steps forward, he watched Olden's back for
the rising and falling of breaths. A drunken snore rumbled from the heap. Tarek
sighed a breath of relief.
"Wake up." Tarek nudged his boot not too gently
into Pop's ribs.
Olden came up with a furious yell, his arms swinging
wildly.
Dodging his father’s fists, Tarek grasped the back of his
dirty shirt, dragged him to the nearest horse trough, and dunked his head into
the mucky water.
"All right!"
Olden shouted on the third dunk, trying to push from the basin smelling of dead
things and algae. "All right, I say. Leb
go ob me, you blasted scamp!"
Tarek shoved him away and jumped out of reach in case the
old man decided to pay him back.
"Get on your feet," Tarek ordered. "Or I'll
do it again. I'm not carrying you home this time."
Wiping the last dregs of mud from his eyes, Olden stood on
wobbly legs and grabbed at a post to steady himself. Purple and yellow
splotches covered the side of Olden's face. Blood trickled down into his
scraggly goatee from a split lip.
Olden pointed a black smudged finger at his son.
"Jus' cause you're sixteen doesn't make you the man of the family. That's
still my role."
Tarek rolled his eyes. "Can you get home, Pop? Ma is
beside herself with worry. A messenger bird brought a letter from your brother.
Uncle says we better run for it. Racan soldiers are plundering this whole
region."
Olden waved his hand dismissively. "They're not
interested in this stink hole." He tried to wipe the dirt from his muddied
shirt and trousers, then gave up the lost cause. "Tole her I was out
getting us some coins. She been ranting about leavin', but I'll need to buy
provisions. Without food and travel gear, we'll not make it more than a few
days. Miles of desert surround this forsaken sand pit." His arms waved
around him like branches in a storm.
"If you had no coin, then what did you gamble
with?"
A sly grin crinkled Olden's leathered face. "My
charms, son. As usual. Haven't I taught you nothin'?"
That would explain his busted lip. Shaking his head, Tarek
turned and started for home. "Pop, don't you think it's time we pack up
and leave anyway? All you do is hang out here, wasting what little we do own.
I'm with Ma on this. Nothing can be worse than this place."
"Don't go gettin' all superior on me, lad. You been
goin' around with a big chip on your shoulder, you have. And what've you done
to help out, eh? Don't see you workin' at getting us out of this mess."
"You're the so-called man of the house. Thought that
was your job?" Tarek said over his shoulder.
A hard force hit up against Tarek's back, knocking him
flat on his stomach. Spitting sand, Tarek rolled aside before Olden got a good
kick in. As he scrambled out of the way, Olden grabbed his shirt and pulled him
to his feet. Their faces were inches apart. Tarek tried to avoid breathing in
the reek of ale drenching Olden's breath.
"Time you man up, too, you little whelp."
Spittle flew from Olden's puffy lips. "You’ve been complaining an' whinin'
your shoes are too tight, your belly is rumbling, you hate being here. Don't
show no gratitude for a house that belongs to our family. Has the Lion crest on
the door. Cain't nobody ever take it from us."
"Don't be so sure. Those other towns probably thought
the same thing before the soldiers hit them. That's why we need to leave.
Before they come." He shoved Olden away from him and started walking
again.
Pop's brother had encouraged them to move here to help
revive the floundering town. Unfortunately, by time his family arrived in
DeTiere, rumors spread of the neighboring villages being taken over. The Racan
King confiscated whatever bounty he could squeeze out of the citizens before
taking them all off to work their skills in his own mountain fortress. Tarek
had no desire to become some king's slave.
They'd reached the edge of the main part of DeTiere. From
here a few abandoned cottages dotted the desert land before they reached home.
Olden's cheeks puffed as he blew out a long breath. His
hands went in his pockets, jiggling nothing but air. He stared down at his own
worn boots "Actually, I was thinking of making a run for Wilderland. Maybe
go live with the Greenmen. They'd keep us safe, except—" he shook his
head, "—there's the walk across that barren desert. You and I know how to
endure hardships. Brie and Vesia? Not so sure they'll be up to the
challenge."
Tarek studied the thousands of stars glittering across the
sky, the one constant despite where they lived. They'd not stayed in the same
town for more than a year, two at the longest before Pop's wanderlust hit him
again and he wanted to try his luck at a new place. "Life is an adventure,"
Olden often said. Everyone knew that meant they better start packing what they
wished to keep, or be forced to leave it behind when he got the notion to move
on.
Tarek faced Olden. "Sis is more resourceful than
you're giving her credit for. And Ma, she's toughed it out with you all these
years."
Olden raised his hand as if to backhand him, then started
chuckling as he slung his arm across Tarek's shoulder instead. "You're a
sassy lad, aren't you? Such a scamp."
Tarek's smile was tight, guarded. Hard to know when the
old man felt friendly or when feigned friendly so he could get off a good hit.
This time he seemed somewhat sincere as his voice took on
a serious, pondering tone. "But you're smart. I can depend on you."
Oh boy, here he
goes. Tarek waited to see what Pop would require from him this time. He'd
drawn the line at outright thievery so far. He wished to keep his hands attached
to the end of his arms.
Olden continued. "I was thinkin' we'd wait a few
months in the Wilderland forest. If those scavengers are coming here, which I
don't know why they'd waste their efforts on this pathetic town—" He
sneered as they passed a clapboard house with a sagging roof. "—then we
can come back after they've cleaned out the riffraff. Rebuild the town. Maybe
stay for awhile like you and your Ma been whining for."
Tarek stared at his father as if he'd sprouted horns.
"Wouldn't it be easier to find a nice established town? Doesn't Ma have
folks in the North? Some place called Kinti, or something?"
Slowing his steps, Olden scowled. Tarek flinched,
preparing for the smack sure to come.
"Done tole you all, I'll not go to one of those white
tree towns. A feller has to give up too much. Cain't live for yerself. They
expect people to follow harsh rules. You're expected to share your hard earned
food and goods with any ol' fool who passes through. No. We are of the House of
Lion. We serve nobody. We take care of ourselves, Tarek. How many times I got
to tell you? Instead of crying about sore feet, make yourself new shoes. Use
them hides you collected."
"I've been saving them to sell at the market."
Olden waved his free hand dismissing Tarek's plans.
"You ain't got but a couple left. I done already sold the best ones. Had
to trade them for a bit of coin to get on the tables."
Tarek stopped. "I made the kill. I cleaned them.
Where's my money then?"
He shrugged. "They don't call it gambling for
nothing. Anyway—" he went on, pulling Tarek along with him. "—there's
enough left for a pair of traveling shoes."
"I don't know how to sew, Pop."
"As if that should stop you. What do I always say? If
you don't know, find someone who does. Ask your Ma. I'm sure if you promise to
make your sister a pair, as well, she'll show you how to stitch them up."
Olden squeezed his shoulder tighter.
Tarek jerked away. What a piece of work his old man could
be. If it weren't for Vesia and Ma, he'd have cut out a year ago.
"Come on, Tarek, man up. We have a lot to do if we're
going to hit the road again. First thing in the morning, we'll take a little
hunting trip. I'll talk to Vesia about gathering some vegetables."
"We don't own a garden, Pop." Was he serious,
Tarek wondered, or just spouting off what he thought they wanted to hear to
pacify them a bit longer? Hard to tell with the scheming old man.
"Yeah, well." He gave an unconcerned shrug.
"I'll tell Brie to start packing. Only what we absolutely need. Nobody
takes more than they can carry across the desert. With four days of good
traveling, we should reach the woods where there will be a better supply of
game and water. From there, it'll take a few more days to find the hamlet.
We'll travel at night. The moon will be full by the end of the week…."
Olden seemed serious. Dare Tarek hope? He stared out
across the blackened land beyond their yard. The family house, partly made of
wood and stone, was one of the nicer places they'd been able to lay their heads.
He froze. Did one of the shadows just move? Mountain lions roamed close to town
when hungry enough. "Pop…"
"We must stick together son. We do what needs to be
done to ensure our survival. Remember, we have nobody but ourselves to take
care of us. If you fail, you can only blame yourself."
Tarek sighed. So they'd poach and steal and hopefully get
it all done before the soldiers came. No problem.
A sound like a snapping twig echoed from the darkness.
Tarek froze his eyes and ears alert. A spark flared and illuminated a man riding
a steed the color of the night sky. The first torch ignited the next as the
flame traveled down a row of black clad horsemen, all holding glistening
weapons and all yielding the crescent moon and stars emblem on their chest.
Too late. They were here.
Here's where you can get your copy, going for only .99 cents until the end of August when the price goes up to $1.99.
