Serving The Serpent - Daisy Banks
A warm welcome to Daisy Banks who has brought with her today a wonderful snippet of her latest book, due for release tomorrow and up right now on pre-release at
Thank you for offering to host a taster of my
newest story Serving the Serpent published by Liquid Silver Books on 23rd
November 2015.
Blurb
In Wales, Ceridwyn takes up her
inherited duty to care for the dragons in the mountains. Awed by them and the
huge book about them, she is determined to prove her worth.
Far away in Norway, Leif has
growing concerns for his sick dragon. He discovers only one cure will stop his
dragon’s suffering. The mighty Herensuge must journey to find his bonded mate.
When they meet, Ceri and Leif
make combined efforts to aid the dragons and discover an astonishing surprise.
The great lore book each of them protects tells they have a responsibility to
the future. At this rare and magical time, not only the dragon pairing must
occur.
Join
Ceri and Leif as they work to keep the sworn silence and keep the dragons safe.
Friendship is growing between them, but will it be enough? Can love blossom
between two chosen to serve the serpent?
From
Chapter 1
The
rising sun, whose brilliant arc matched her march up the hill, greeted her,
warmth on her face and the last of the moon dissolved away into the brightness
of a blue sky. What an auspicious day. The next part of her journey, she picked
her way delicate as a mountain goat farther up the hillside until the shadowed
opening to the caves appeared.
Shrubs
guarded this entranceway, each one of them placed by Mam or Gran, and one or
two were old enough to have been planted by Great-Gran, a devotee of the holly.
Gran chose the delicate and nectar-laden buddleia, some of which bloomed now,
its tiny purple flowers in long, draped, slender cones. Mam had planted
low-growing gorse. Each spring it erupted with magnificent yellow blooms. Ceri
thought again on her decision. When the time came to add her own signature
here, she’d plant elder, for she loved its sweet frothy blossoms and its ripe
fruits that fed birds so well.
She
said a swift, silent prayer and ducked into the cave mouth. Here, she undid the
belt at her hips so her robes hung smooth as they should, and she slid off her
Wellington boots. From this entrance, she’d tread barefoot over the chilly
surface of the compacted pale clay and raw quartz pebbles of the path. Along
and down, she searched with her fingers over the cold and damp rock wall, feeling
her way down. She descended deeper into the gloom and passed the low-hanging
lump of granite Mam always called Lizzie’s Pap. The darkness now complete, her
stomach rolling and her breathing rapid, she heard the echo of Mam’s
instructions in her mind as she stepped for the first time onto the
gravel-edged shore where the dark waters of the Jet Llyn joined her world to
that of her new charges. She counted four paces forward. Blind for now, she
stretched out her right arm and felt about in the darkness until she found the
thick branch of wood holding the torch she needed to light.
Tiny
pebbles stuck under her toes. The nip in the air sent a shiver over her as she
set her willow wand down, and with her fingers a bit shaky, she struck the
match to light the moss wound around the top of the pole wedged into the
gravel. The torch flared. The dry stalks, which must be replaced each visit
here, took easily and burned up bright. She breathed out in a rush of relief.
So far, everything was as it should be. A fresh rash of trembles raised
gooseflesh all down her arms and not because of the chill in the cavern.
Ceri
picked up her wand and lifted the lit torch. She carried the light in front of
her in her left hand until she reached the scrap of gritty beach with its short
rock causeway that projected forward like a finger reaching out toward the
middle of the deep water. Here, she held the torch shoulder high so the light
glittered and reflected as in a mirror off the depths of the Jet Llyn. In her
other hand, she held the quartz-crystal-tipped rod, and pointing it, she
positioned the clear stone on her wand so it hovered over the still dark
surface.
She
swallowed, gave a little quiver, forced down her apprehension, and sucked in a
breath.
Beneath
the quartz point of her rod, illuminated by the bright torchlight, a single fat
bubble rose. The water rippled. Stronger circular movements followed until
small waves lapped at the shore inches from where she curled her toes so they
gripped into the stones. An itch tickled in her palm, but she kept the rod
steady.
Just
as Mam said, they were coming for her.
The dragons were coming.
Buy
Links
Find
Daisy Banks
Daisy Banks is the
author of:
Serving the Serpent out
on November 23rd
Christmas Carols
Marked for Magic
To Eternity
A Perfect Match
Timeless
Valentine Wishes
A Gentleman’s Folly
Your Heart My Soul
Fiona’s Wish
A Matter of Some
Scandal
Thanks so much for showcasing the new book, Diane. I am grateful.
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