04 March 2015

Blog Tour: The Danger of Destiny (Mystwalker #4) by Leigh Evans

The Danger of Destiny (Mystwalker #4) by Leigh Evans.
Audience/Genre: Adult, Urban Fantasy.
Publication: March 3rd, 2015.
WHY WHISTLE IN THE DARK
There are very few days off when you're on an epic quest. Believe me, I know. I'm Hedi Peacock—one half Fae, the other were—and if being a half-breed with one foot in each world isn't tough enough to manage, there are the four chambers of my heart to consider. The one who holds the strings? Robson Trowbridge, the Alpha of Creemore. If I had my way, he and I would be locked in a bedroom, for eternity, but a pressing family matter needs my attention. It's true what they say: A woman's work is never done.
WHEN YOU CAN HOWL AT THE MOON?
My twin brother is being held captive by the Old Mage in another realm. Lo and behold, as soon as Trowbridge and I arrive in Merenwyn, we're separated in spectacular, dramatic fashion—and I'm left to figure out how to maintain the fragile balance between my Fae magic and my wolf's blood in a realm that cries to both. Not easy, particularly when I'm keeping an iron-grip on my temper so as not to dispatch with extreme prejudice the odd wizard or smart-mouthed mutt servant who crosses my path. My mama never told me there'd be days like these, but I'm not going down without a fight…or my mate.


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Excerpt

I mean, really early. I don’t know precisely how early, because one Earth hour is the rough equivalent of eighteen Merenwyn hours and that is a bitch to figure out without a calculator and piece of paper.
But Trowbridge and I had crossed far earlier than instructed. Which meant we were way ahead of schedule and at this moment Lexi was betwixt worlds, still going through the unenviable process of having his addiction torn from him.
I tried to imagine what it felt like for my brother. Waking and realizing that you’re trapped inside a fog- filled portal passage. Slowly recognizing that you’re a prisoner— you can’t go forward to Merenwyn, and you can’t go back to Creemore. And worse, your transit plans are hostage to your own addiction. There’d be no freedom until such time as a mage— and Lexi has no fondness for them— pronounced you clean of your cravings for sun potion.
It would suck balls.
It had to be worse than being stuck in LaGuardia for an indefinite layover, your only company the walls, the clock, and an evangelist preacher.
Goddess, Hedi, when you screw up, you screw up.
I cleared my dry throat and nodded toward the river. “This looks like a good place.”
“Uh- huh.” Trowbridge scratched his nose, then looked up at the mid- day sun with a scowl. The thin wedge of maple he’d fashioned into a homespun toothpick gave another bob. He’d given me my own stick to chew earlier. Apparently, they keep the hunger pains at bay. Mine had fallen out of my back pocket when I squatted behind some bushes. No way was I putting that back in my mouth.
I pushed the tall grass aside to get another look at the river below. Its banks were pebbled, the center of its span an undeniably traversable froth of water.
Finally.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the crook on my arm. No more tramping along the escarpment, trying to exude resolute calm while inwardly being piddlepants scared about the very real possibility of toppling into the River of Penance’s churning water below. No more—
“My gut’s not happy,” he said.
Neither was mine. It kept squeezing, making clear its expectations that I should hustle and find a honey hive or five for its satisfaction. The handful of berries we’d nibbled on a couple of hours ago were naught but a faint memory.
Don’t think about food.
“No,” he repeated thoughtfully, “it’s not happy at all.” I worked up a reply for that.
Normally, I’m quick with the quip and observation. I’d started our journey through the Fae realm leaking exclamations— “the sky’s so blue, Trowbridge!”— but my general enthusiasm had naturally ebbed as the realities of being in Merenwyn had worn in.
We needed to cross the River of Penance. Because the two places high on my must- see destination list were on the other side of it and because its deafening roar had battered my right ear drum all morning. It had been nothing but rapids and waterfalls.
Finally, it had shut up and calmed the hell down.
I was done with the River of Penance and all its frickin’ tributaries.
Done.
Merry slid down the inside crease of my elbow, snaring her feet in my tangled hair. I slit my eyes open and watched her through my lashes. She landed near my nose
in a tiny puff of dust, then stalked along the inside of my curved arm.
My best friend was a sentient being, enchanted and imprisoned inside an amulet that hung from the chain I wore around my neck. She was an Asrai, like Ralph, the amulet
that Trowbridge wore. “Merry and Ralph are hungry. We should feed them,” I said, pointedly adding, “when we get to the other side.”
“Mmmph,” my darling man said.
With frayed patience, I carefully scratched around an insect bite. “Tell me again why we didn’t cross the river where the Gatekeeper did.”
I’d hated parting from her trail. Without the Gatekeeper, we were stuck in the land of the sneaky biting midges, because I didn’t know the sequence of words and secret hand gestures to reopen the Safe Passage. The portal had closed itself while Trowbridge was occupied hiding the crumpled chain- link fencing. I’d tried to stop it from sealing, but the stone I’d quickly rolled into the doorway had been crushed into pea gravel.
The only plus? I hadn’t followed up on my first instinct of shoving my foot into the doorway.
Ralph unwound two long golden strands from his setting and re- formed them into two long legs. He pushed himself upright, his bright blue stone winking with a self- satisfied light, then trotted to the end of his chain, so that he could take a gander at the old River of Penance. The line of grasses edging the outlook obscured his view so he hopped onto Trowbridge’s forearm and started to prance upward.
Smack.
My guy swatted Ralph off like he was annoying ant. Indignantly, the Royal Amulet righted himself, then whipped out two more strands of gold, presumably to fashion them into something sharp and pointy with which he could demonstrate his outrage.
Trowbridge’s lip lifted enough to expose his teeth and the chew stick clamped between them.
And just like that, the fight went out of Ralph. He lowered his pincers, and he stood down, save for the little blip of insolent white light bleating from his jewel.
My mate removed his toothpick and said softly, “When you travel with an Alpha, you don’t get in his line of vision. Ever. You watch, you listen, you try to be helpful, and if you want your Alpha not to leave you swinging over the gorge you make an extra effort to stay still so that your chain’s not sawing away at the back of his neck. But most of all, you keep your shiny ass out of his line of vision.
Got that, Ralphie?”
Point taken. Ralph picked up the slack in his chain and sidled out of the Son of Lukynae’s sight line.
“Who’s the big bad wolf?” I murmured with only a little bit of sarcasm. “Now, returning of the question of why we ditched the Gatekeeper, your answer is . . .”
“If we followed her across the river, we’d be walking right into the Fae’s hands. We’ve got time. It’s smarter to play it safe.”
True. We’d journeyed into this world a day earlier than anticipated, so we were ahead of the game, considering there was a time limit on my epic quest. Time considerations only became crucial once Lexi finished his passage between the two realms. If the old man’s soul wasn’t wrenched from Lexi’s by my twin’s third sunset in Merenwyn, their soul merge became permanent.
Don’t think about it. Just do one thing at time.
Get to Daniel’s Rock.
Though, you see, there it was— another tiny crack in the mental image I’d held of what Trowbridge, aka the Son of Lukynae, Hero Alpha of the Raha’ells, would be like in Merenwyn. I’d fi gured he’d be impatient. Feral. Violence simmering, glinting eyes showing hints of his undomesticated masculinity, musk so strong that it made me damp.
He wasn’t.
He was . . . pragmatic. Calculating. And mostly, very damn quiet.
Huh.
I listened to the sound of the water running over the river’s rocks. It was clean and fresh, a cheery chortle versus an outraged thunder. Merry’s chain tightened, signaling she was on the move again. I could feel the pinch of her little vine- tipped feet as she minced down my arm for a better
view of the valley.
Why was Trowbridge balking now? For the first time in a couple of hours, we were on a section of cliff that had great handholds. We could make it down to the valley below without loss of limb and life. And even more important, the freakin’ River of Penance had worn out some of its anger. Sure, it was moving fast, but we could ford it. And even if we lost our footing, the other side could be reached in a few determined strokes— after all, the river didn’t look that wide.
I kept my eyes closed, careful not to look at him. “Is this because you’re afraid of water?”
“I’m not afraid of water.”


Follow the rest of the tour!

3/2 - http://romanceatrandom.com/
3/3 - http://empyreanedge.com/
3/4 - http://www.kindleandme.com/
3/5 - http://vampirebookclub.net/
3/6 - http://urbanfantasyinvestigations.blogspot.com/
3/7 - http://www.thereadingcafe.com/
3/8 - http://littlereadridinghood.com/
3/9 - http://www.mybookishways.com/
3/10 - http://qwillery.blogspot.com/
3/11 - http://paranormalhaven.com/
3/12 - http://saphsbookblog.blogspot.com/



Leigh Evans was born in Montreal, Quebec but now lives in Southern Ontario. She's raised two kids, mothered four dogs, and herded a few cats. Other than that, her life was fairly routine until the day she decided to write a book about a half-Fae, half-Were girl who's a magnet for trouble. The first Mystwalker novel was grabbed by St. Martins, and released as THE TROUBLE WITH FATE in 2012. Second and third books quickly followed: THE THING ABOUT WERES and THE PROBLEM WITH PROMISES. At the age most people start thinking about retirement, Leigh is slinging words and pummeling plots. Leigh's destiny has finally been met: she's a writer. A little tardy, but then again, her mum always said she was a late bloomer.




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3 comments:

  1. Right now it's Julie Kagawa's Blood of Eden series. :)
    Mary G Loki

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm really enjoying the Kate Daniels series. Thanks for the giveaway! Ann S

    ReplyDelete