Before we begin, a letter from Lucky!
Lucky’s letter…
Hi, this is Lucky, or really Luccan. I guess it’s safe to tell you my name now, since I’m saying goodbye to Earth. You see, in the past week I met some really frightening people, but turns out most of them were trying to help me. And I’m glad they did, because otherwise I wouldn’t be here to write you this note.
Couple things I want to say. First, I know I’m a bit young to be handing out advice about life, but I’m going to say this anyway. Pay attention to the people around you, the ones you love. Never take them for granted, because you never know when they’ll be taken from you—or you from them. Maybe you’ll see them again, maybe not.
Another thing, when you meet people? Don’t think you know who they are. You may think you can see them, but there’s more hidden behind the ordinary than you might think. Maybe someday you’ll know that person you met on the bus, but only if they decide to show themselves. And then, be prepared to be surprised.
If you find a place that feels like… well, unusual, kind of like the air is heavier or things you thought you saw aren’t there, be real careful. It might be like Black Creek Ravine, which is more than it seems, as my friend Thurlock says. There are places in Earth where you might walk through a portal and find yourself adrift in a big vat of nothingness. If that happens, think of home and the people there that you love—think it as hard as you can and don’t stop until you’re on solid ground again.
That’s all the advice I have, but I’m going to miss some of you a lot. Like Henry George, and Safianu, Rob the bus driver. More than anything, though, I’m going to miss my best friend, Maizie. I found her when she was a little pup, way too skinny and mostly ears, paws, and tail. She stuck with me through thick and thin, but now she’s there and I’m on my way to my home, even though it’s a place I don’t really remember. So if anybody sees her—she’ll come if you call her name, I think—please take care of her for me. Maybe someday we can be together again, but if not, I want her heart to be happy and her life to be long and full of good days.
If I ever owed you thanks, please know that I appreciate you, and I wish everyone who reads this letter the best their own worlds have to offer.
~~Lucky, AKA Luccan
Author Bio:
Lou Hoffmann, a mother and grandmother now, has carried on her love affair with books for more than half a century, and she hasn’t even made a dent in the list of books she’d love to read—partly because the list keeps growing as more and more fascinating tales are told in written form. She reads factual things—books about physics and stars and fractal chaos, but when she wants truth, she looks for it in quality fiction. Through all that time she’s written stories of her own, but she’s come to be a published author only as a johnnie-come-lately. Lou loves other kinds of beauty as well, including music and silence, laughter and tears, youth and age, sunshine and storms, forests and fields, rivers and seas. Proud to be a bisexual woman, she’s seen the world change and change back and change more in dozens of ways, and she has great hope for the freedom to love in the world the youth of today will create in the future. You can find Lou on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/lou.hoffmann, or twitter @Lou_Hoffmann.
Author Contact:
Cover Artist: Catt Ford
Publisher: Harmony Ink Press (Dreamspinner Press imprint)
Blurb(s):
On his way to meet a fate he’d rather avoid, homeless gay teen Lucky steps through a wizard’s door and is caught up in a whirlwind quest and an ancient war. He tries to convince himself that his involvement with sword fights, magic, and interworld travel is a fluke, and that ice-breathing dragons and fire-breathing eagles don’t really exist. But with each passing hour, he remembers more about who he is and where he’s from, and with help, he begins to claim his power.
Lucky might someday rule a nation, but before he can do that, he must remember his true name, accept his destiny, and master his extraordinary abilities. Only then can he help to banish the evil that has invaded earth and find his way home—through a gateway to another world.
Excerpt:
Isa left her four Ethran servants to tend the boy until she could return and summoned her recent Earthborn recruits. She gathered them in the vast circular sanctum, the better to show them their insignificance, to inflame their need to serve the Demon Queen. She preferred dimness and shadow, but weaker, ordinary eyes needed light. With a dark word and a flick of thin, sharp fingers, she set a ring of torches burning behind them, blue and cold.
She stood tall in the center of the space, robed as always in blue. Acolytes surrounded her, all Earthborn and easily enslaved by magic. They numbered fifty-two, and huddled in kneeling quadrants of thirteen each. Not as many as she would have liked, but a fair number considering the limitations of time.
Mordred waited in the dark outside the circle, bearing a small stone dagger and a mirrored tray holding four large crystal goblets. Each cup contained a potion brewed of red elder, skullcap, bindweed, and rue. As Isa had taught him, Mordred had, in each cup, drowned a wolf spider and weighted it with moonstone and jet. The final ingredient, the one that would bind them to Mordred, and through him to her and to Mahl, would be added later, in ritual sacrifice.
Having earlier cast a glamour to mellow her voice and visage, Isa lifted her draped arms and bade the supplicants raise their eyes. She began to speak, preaching with a rhythm and flow designed to mesmerize. As eyes glazed in the audience, she blended her words into Dark Chant, low and guttural, sending shadows into their hearts to bleed them of heat.
The last syllables of the spell echoed into the vastness of the sanctum. From the slaves, no sound, no movement.
“Mordred,” she called, and all heads turned to follow him as he came forward, placed the tray at her feet, and went to one knee. He turned the knife and offered it. She took it and then pulled him to his feet, raising his hand to present him to the gathering.
“Here is your captain,” she said. All bowed their heads, and a slow smile of satisfaction twisted Mordred’s face. His eyes glittered in anticipation of new power.
After a moment, Isa instructed the Earthborns to stand in their places. “As is proper, your captain will fortify you with his own strength, through his own sacrifice.
“Behold his gift.”
He knelt again before her, and she drew the knife three inches down each of his forearms, turning the knife to slide under the skin and increase the flow of blood. The smile didn’t leave his face. He uttered no sound. He held his arms over the tray and let his blood, dark with the taint of Mahl, fall into the cups drip by drip.
Quietly, Isa said, “Sufficient.”
Mordred stood, bearing the tray, and waited while she instructed the supplicants.
Isa had named a leader for each quadrant of thirteen, a person with some small portion of magic underlying their greed. To each of these four, while his tarnished blood still flowed down his arms, Mordred entrusted a crystal goblet. They did not drink first, but passed the cup each among their twelve.
When all the others had partaken, the leaders took the cups again and drank, draining every drop of potion until stone and spider fell upon their pallid lips, a sorcerer’s kiss.
Tour Dates/Stops:
9/11: Velvet Panic
9/12: Amanda C. Stone
9/15: MM Good Book Reviews
9/16: Prism Book Alliance
9/17: Hearts on Fire
9/18: Love Bytes
9/19: The Hat Party
9/22: Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words
9/23: Parker Williams
9/24: Iyana Jenna
9/25: The Novel Approach, Dawn’s Reading Nook
Sales Links:
eBook: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5395
Paperback : http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5396
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