Thank you all so much for joining me today for the Power of the Zephyr (Book 4 in the Rowan of the Wood YA Fantasy Series) release party! Some of you may have already read the first few books in the Rowan of the Wood series, and I’d love to hear your thoughts about how the books have progressed over the past five years.
Our lives sure have changed from the early days of Rowan. If you’ve been with us throughout, you will remember the huge campaign What Would You Do for a Kindle 2? You will be intimately familiar with the Retro Diva and her singing “Don’t You Want a Kindle.” You will know what a Geekalicious Gypsy Caravan is, and you might have seen me vlogging from the Road when Ethan and I traveled over 18,000 miles in 2009 taking Rowan from Sea to Shining Sea. You will have seen some silly, silly videos of people drinking YooHoo out of a shoe, singing LIKE A SURGEON, and tossing a laptop out a window, not to mention me as Bellatrix LaStrange doing a very bad Madonna spoof or somebody sending me their son. Yes, 2009 was an interesting year to say the least.
But, unfortunately, life intervened in late 2010 – 2012, putting a damper on my marketing enthusiasm and eventually even on my writing time. Although 2010 was the year that my alter ego O. M. Grey was born and we got ourselves a NY Agent, it was also the beginning of a very dark period in our lives. Illness and devastating loss hindered productivity, and although I wrote several short stories under O. M. Grey in 2011 and 2012, I fell behind on the novels, resulting in Power of the Zephyr to be a year late, which, in turn, pushed back Spirit of the Otherworld, the 5th and final book in the series. We’re now looking at a 2013 release for that 5th book.
However! Things are now looking up, and I’m very excited about 2013, where I will be challenging myself to read and write and read and write and do just about nothing else but read and write! Look for lots of reviews on both my blog as well as Olivia’s blog, PLUS more stories of all kinds! Novels, novellas, short fiction, flash fiction. It’s going to be a super productive year!
So, without further ado, let’s have some great fun today. Ask me anything you’d like.
First, enjoy this excerpt from Power of the Zephyr:
The night had drained away all the colors of the day,
leaving only the single spectrum of gray behind. Its range from the cold white of the sodium lamps to the deep black of shrouding shadows veiled all promise and hope with a bitter haze. Most of the misty, flirtatious wisps of fog that had lingered though the early evening had dispersed. Darkness, even where there was light.
The small prop plane taxied to a stop beneath a particularly bright floodlight outside the small terminal. The plane’s doors opened like the unfolding beak of a giant, hungry bird, ready to devour its prey. Its gaping mouth made an awning of the top door and stairs of the bottom one. Moody’s large, round figure descended. Taking a single step at a time, he balanced himself down to the tarmac. Once he reached the asphalt, he waddled toward the lit interior of the building nearby as he stroked the belly of the large tabby cradled in his left arm, purring contentedly.
Before he reached the hanger, he stopped. He felt something familiar. Too familiar. Something inside him had always told him this day would come. And here it was, on the worst possible day, of course, what with Cullen in danger. But of course it would be today. How could it have been any other day?
A figure with long, flame-red hair stepped out of the shadows. A pure white streak mingled with the fiery curls just off the right side of her face. Down the left: a black one. Black as the empty, cavernous void inside her hollow shell.
Moody turned towards her and showed no sign of surprise, had anyone besides the cat been watching. But no one else saw this exchange. Just two former companions lost in the gray.
“It’s time for you to come home,” she hissed.
“My lady, that time is past. You banished me, remember? It was your will to discard me on the streets of New York, all those decades ago. I’ve paid my debt since, and what a huge debt it was, my lady. The suffering I’ve known, after being cast from your sight! Have you any idea what that feels like? To have the fabric of one’s soul torn to shreds? To be devalued and discarded so callously? I loved you, my lady. With everything I was and ever had been, I loved you. Was devoted to you. I would’ve done anything for you, as I had proven time and again. I would’ve died for you. Anything for you, but you got bored with me. You renounced my love. Abandoned me. After these too-long years I have recovered at last. That time is long past when you could say anything to make amends. When a single kind word would’ve saved my meaningless life. But I have found purpose again. On my own. Without you. It was your will, my lady. Your will. There is no going back, too much has changed.”
“Nonsense. It was my will, and my will shall always be done. You know that all too well. Now, it is my will for you to return home to me. Do not forget, I own you, Moody. Forever.”
“I’m my own man now. You no longer have a hold on me.”
At this she laughed, the condescending laugh one would give to a child who is acting foolishly or an adult who has just said something absurd like ‘love never dies.’ It was the derisive laugh of cynical experience, of superiority over the stupidity of innocence. It was the laugh of someone who had power and who knew she had power and who enjoyed using that power to destroy and to control and to hurt.
She laughed, and Moody felt it in the depths of his round belly. That mocking laugh cracked his soul once again. The very soul he had worked so hard to mend.
“On the contrary,” she said. “You gave me the Oath of Oberon. Remember? The Oath of Oberon cannot be broken among those like us, Moody. You know it all too well. If you break the Oath of Oberon, you will lose more than I have ever lost or taken from you. I invoke this sacred oath now.”
Moody bowed his head, knowing he had no choice.
“Consider yourself summoned,” she spat. She was no longer laughing. Her eyes had turned cold, empty. Frightening. The cruelty and vast emptiness behind them chilled Moody to his very core. “Appear at my court immediately or suffer the correlated doom.”
“I understand the strictures, my lady.” Moody regained his strength and faced his opponent once again. Standing proud, he met her harrowing gaze with all the warmth and love he could muster, and he could feel every good thing inside him being sucked out. But still, he stood strong, drawing power from the earth beneath his feet. “No need to remind me of that which my people created and hold sacred.”
“Your people?” Fiana scoffed, curling her lip in disgust. “Your people are dead, Moody. Dust. I am the only family you have left. Come home. Now. I command you.”
“On my honor, I have no alternative.”
Fiana spun on her spiked heel, throwing her red locks over her shoulder as she strode to her car. She didn’t have to look back.
He set the tabby on the ground, and the cat bolted for the protection of the shadows. Moody followed Fiana to her car and, without another word, sank into the backseat. Defeated.
About the Author:
Christine Rose is the award-winning author of the Rowan of the Wood YA fantasy series. Her Amazon.com bestselling book Publishing and Marketing Realities for the Emerging Author helps writers feel successful by educating them about the publishing industry and marketing their book.
She needs copious amounts of dark chocolate, frothy mochas, and loving attention.
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Learn more about Christine Rose below
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