Week 1
Week 2
The last thing Ward de'Ath wants is more trouble. On the run from both the law and the criminal underworld, Ward and Celia flee Brawenal City only to stumble into the mansion of a powerful evil necromancer. And when Ward discovers the man possesses a dangerous grimoire, his duty leaves him no choice. He can't allow the necromancer to keep the grimoire. But the mansion is filled with monsters--human and undead--and Ward has no way of telling who's friend or foe. The only person he can trust is Celia who dominates more of his thoughts and feelings everyday. But there are still laws in the way of anything but friendship. She's still dead and he's still alive . . . for now.
Melanie has always been drawn to story telling. In fact, she can’t remember a time when she wasn’t telling a story in her head or on paper. In grade school, they had journal writing time which she turned into story telling time, weaving tales of magic and adventure that mimicked the fairy tales and myths that she loved to read. It was there, with the help of two very special teachers, that she nurtured this love and started her journey as a writer.
She writes fantasy, paranormal romance, and everything in between, seasoned with a good dash of adventure and mystery. Join her on my tales of magic, adventure, and romance.
Chapter One, Part 6
The woman in the doorway slid her gaze over Ward, and from the curl of her lip, she wasn’t impressed with what she saw. She turned to Celia. Her eyes flashed wide, then narrowed, and her attention jumped back to Ward. “Well, the promised Quirin Dagenhart from Yarbon has finally arrived.”
“South Yarbon,” Allette said, releasing Ward and staring at her feet.
“We expected you days ago.”
Ward opened his mouth to correct the mistaken identity, but Celia stepped close and nudged him with her arm. “We ran into a bit of trouble on the way here.”
The woman pursed full lips. Danger emanated from her like the kind of menace Celia radiated when she revealed her assassin-self. “I can see that. Let’s get you cleaned up. You should be presentable when you meet Macerio.”
“Of course.” Goddess, it kept getting worse. Not only were they spending the night, but Celia wanted him to pretend he was this Quirin Dagenhart.
“Allette, run ahead and have wash water and clean clothes sent up to Quirin’s room, and have the one beside his made ready as well.”
“Yes, Lyla.” Allette rushed into the house.
Lyla brushed a lock of hair away from her face. Her gaze lingered on Ward, and he shivered, feeling exposed. A narrow line creased her forehead, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she saw. He got that a lot.
Celia cleared her throat. “Are we going to wait on the doorstep?”
Lyla’s eyes narrowed even more. “No.” She stepped back, motioning for them to enter.
Celia gave Ward an encouraging smile. It didn’t make him feel better, but he couldn’t very well disagree in front of Lyla. That would ruin whatever Celia planned—and she had to have a plan; she always did.
They entered a gleaming white and gold antechamber with halls leading left and right. White and black marble tiles created an octagon and an open goddess-eye in the center of the floor. This was definitely a waystation.
Before them stood two massive doors, opening into a great hall. About a hundred people, dressed in court finest, danced and talked and ate. Light radiated from massive chandeliers, sparkling on gold and silver and jewels on the tables and the people.
“This way.” Lyla turned down the hall to the right, heading into the wing Ward and Celia had skirted outside. The marble floor and pale-paneled walls switched to dark wood, leaving the passage gloomy in contrast to the brilliance behind them.
They followed Lyla to a narrow stairway that curled up to the second and third floors. She took them to the second floor, stopped halfway down the hall, and gestured to two open doors, both leading to large bedchambers.
“The wash water and your change of clothes should arrive soon. Macerio Sanz de Cortia will be eager to meet you.”
*************************
Nazarius eased up from his hiding spot. There was movement by the mansion’s front door. It was the second night since the Seer’s carriage had left him in the middle of nowhere, and true to the word of the Seer of the House of Bralmoore, someone had arrived.
Across the dimly lit courtyard, one man and two women had stood on the front steps. They’d entered the house, and the heavy front door had thudded shut with the finality of a jail gate.
Nazarius had seen the dark blond woman in the gold dress since his arrival. She only walked the grounds at night, and moved with a grace that set off every Tracker instinct he had, screaming that she was dangerous. If he hadn’t been there for another reason, and under strict orders to stay out of the way, he’d have donned his pin as an officer of the highest law in the Union of Principalities and paid a house call. All right, maybe he wouldn’t have donned his Quayestri pin—not without any kind of backup—but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.
Regardless, he was there for the other woman and the man. The blue-black sheen of hair and her own deadly grace gave Celia Carlyle away. Although, he didn’t need Celia to pick out Edward de’Ath the fourth—necromancer, physician, criminal, and now a reluctant servant of the Seer. His tall, lanky frame was hard to miss. The Seer had a job for Ward, and Nazarius was there to ensure it happened.
As the Seer foretold, Ward and Celia had entered the mansion, and, if the events a week ago hadn’t irrevocably changed Ward’s life, what he needed to do in that house would.
Giveaway Details:
Prize 1: Signed copy of Ward Against Death and Ward Against Darkness and a $25 gift card (Amazon or B&N) US Only
Prize 2: $15 gift card (Amazon or B&N) US/Canada
Prize 3: 2 eBooks International
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