FAEBORNE - First Chapter Teaser!

Hello Readers!  Only a few more weeks until the release of FAEBORNE, so I thought I'd give you a sneak peek at the first chapter of the latest Otherworld novel.  For those of you who don't follow me on Facebook, and if you haven't been receiving my special Faeborne Preview Chapters newsletter, then this will be entirely new for you.  If you'd like to read the first five chapters of this novel, you can still sign up to receive the newsletter (Chapters 1-5 are scheduled to go out on December 16th, a week prior to publication).  The link for that special newsletter can be found on the right side of this post, or you can click HERE.

A LITTLE BIT ABOUT FAEBORNE ...

If you missed my previous post with the cover reveal of Faeborne, here is a little bit of information regarding this latest Otherworld novel . . . Faeborne started out a few years ago as a short story idea during NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and was set aside because I decided to focus on finishing Lorehnin at the time.  Since then, I've come back to Faeborne, realizing early on that there was far too much material for this tale to fit into a novella-length book.  By the time I finished the final draft, Faeborne became the longest Otherworld novel so far (135,000 words compared to the previous longest, Luathara, which ended up being around 125,000 words).  This story also takes place several years before Meghan and Cade's time and features an entirely new set of characters living in the northeastern part of Eile.  The Morrigan is once again stirring up trouble for the main characters, Brennon and Seren, but she remains a distant threat instead of an immediate one.  At the very end of the story, a familiar character from the other books makes a cameo appearance of sorts, but I don't name the character (I just leave hints, but those of you who have read the other Otherworld books should be able to figure it out rather easily ;)).  Faeborne contains many of the elements found in the rest of the Otherworld books, but this standalone novel is very much a story of love, family, second chances and redemption.  I hope you all will enjoy it as much as you have enjoyed the other Otherworld novels and once I'm done with the manuscript for my fourth Oescienne book, I'd like to check back in with Meghan, Cade, Devlin, Robyn and Enorah since they all have a continuing tale to tell ;).  Until then, happy reading!
- JEJ

FAEBORNE - A NOVEL OF THE OTHERWORLD

Chapter One

Hunt

The split second before Brennon released the arrow, he realized it would not meet its mark.  He had been hunting the doe all morning, following her tracks with stealth and staying downwind as he moved through the forest like a silent fog.  Well, as silent as the occasional twig underfoot and clump of brush tugging on his cloak would allow him.  To get to this point and foul up on something as simple as a bowshot from such a short distance was unforgiveable.  He and Rori had been without fresh meat for over a week now, and the both of them were craving venison stew and hoping for jerky to carry them past Samhain.

Biting back a curse as the fletching of the misdirected arrow brushed against his arm guard, Brenn could only hope this shot wounded the deer enough, so he could follow her and finish the job.  He hated it when the animals didn’t die right away, for the last thing he wanted was to cause more suffering than necessary, but there was no helping it now.

In the end, the arrow didn’t miss his target as terribly as he thought it would.  The arrowhead struck the doe high on the shoulder, forcing a scream from her pale throat, but not taking her down completely.  Instead, she bolted into the thick undergrowth as fast as her injury would allow her.

Brenn sighed.  He had promised Rori he would be home before dark, now, he wasn’t so sure.

You cannot just leave her to die, he grumbled to himself.  Might take her all night, long hours of agony, and then, the wolves will take advantage of your ill luck.

Already, the sun was beginning to dip toward the western horizon, the sky taking on the deeper colors of impending twilight.  If fortune was on his side, he’d find the deer right away and be home before the predators living in this forest scented the blood.  Pulling his cloak tighter, Brennon narrowed his eyes and began his new hunt, trying hard not to think of the Samhain feast day that was fast approaching.  How had the time slipped away from him?  One moment, their part of Eile was in the throes of summer, and in the next he and his nephew were busy bringing in the harvest: Apples and pears from their small orchard, barley, corn, turnips and other root vegetables from the fields.  Hay, oats and feed grains had been growing since early spring and stored in the barn as food and bedding supplies for the animals.  Although Brenn and Rori had plenty to eat and enough to see the animals through the cold months, this time of year brought with it a taint of darkness which never failed to taunt Brennon’s demons.

Pushing through the tangled, dark-thorned bramble patches that contributed to the wood’s name, Brenn quickly reined in his thoughts and sent them down a different path.  Instead, he turned his attention to his surroundings.  Occupying several dozen acres of Eile’s northern lands, Dorcha Forest was second in size only to the Weald far to the southwest.  Brenn couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth curve up in amusement, despite the impending dark and the still missing deer.  As large as Dorcha was, it didn’t hold a candle to the Weald, and as dangerous as it was to be stuck in this particular forest at night, finding yourself lost in Cernunnos’s grand wilderness was far more terrifying.  Or so he’d heard.  Regardless, Dorcha boasted a mix of evergreen and deciduous trees and was said to harbor many wild creatures both natural and unnatural.

Brenn shivered as the bitterness of disgust rose in his throat.  Being so close to the Morrigan’s realm, he wouldn’t be surprised if an entire legion of faelah lurked under the cover of these trees.  And of course, thinking of faelah only brought his mind back to the past he wanted to forget, a past filled with violence, hatred and loss.

The young Faelorehn man pulled his cloak more tightly about himself.  Six years was not a very long time in the lifespan of someone native to Eile, but when those years were spent in the employ of the Morrigan, his world’s most brutal and sadistic goddess, every day, every hour, felt like an eternity.  A month after turning sixteen, Brennon had been turned over to the war goddess’s scouts by his own neighbors.  He had a gift, one they feared and one he considered a curse, and it had earned him too many enemies, even at such a young age.  The farm where he and his nephew now lived had belonged to their family since Eile first came into existence, or so it seemed, and their flocks and fields were always plentiful.  The truth of the matter was the soil of Ardún, the land surrounding Roarke Manor, was imbued with ancient magic, magic that had made the harvests plentiful and his family wealthy.

Everyone in the village of Dundoire Hollow either envied the Roarkes, desired their friendship or outright hated them.  One family in particular embodied all three.  The Corcorain clan sought to be associated with the Roarkes and had tried to arrange a marriage between their children and Brennon and his sister.  Baird and Arlana Corcorain were as cold and unfeeling as their parents, interested only in the vices that plagued Faelorehn-kind.

A tremor of unease wracked Brenn, making him misstep and nearly twist his ankle on an exposed tree root.  Such feelings often visited whenever he found himself thinking about the Corcorain family, especially their daughter.  Even though she had been only fourteen at the time, Arlana was as shrewd and calculating as one of the Morrigan’s ravens.  With her red-blond hair and sparkling, changeable eyes, she had early assumed the title of town beauty.

Every male old enough to notice the opposite gender was easily led around by the nose, should Arlana wish it.  Every male, that is, except for Brenn himself.  At age fifteen going on sixteen, he had begun to take notice of the young women in the village as well, but he knew better than to fall for Arlana’s charms.  And he was far more interested in hunting and war sports to waste his time on the girls who preferred to keep their hands clean and free of calluses.  If he was ever to marry, it would be to someone like his sister, Meara.

Meara, two years older than Brenn and just as wild and stubborn, was unlike the other girls in town.  Although not considered as beautiful as Arlana, she was striking nonetheless with her dark hair and gray fae eyes.  And her Faelorehn blood promised her the legendary good looks which were endemic to their entire race.  Just as Arlana had her cap set on Brennon, her brother Baird had his lustful eye fixed upon Meara.  Baird was three years older than Meara, and like his sister, was popular with the families in town.

Despite Arlana’s beauty and Baird’s charms, they did not appeal to the Roarke siblings in the least.  Meara refused Baird’s advances, time and time again, and when a young horse trainer moved into Dundoire Hollow in search of a new start, Meara’s disinterest in marriage soon turned.  Unlike Baird, Donal was carefree, kind, gentle and his knowledge of horses only made him more appealing to Meara.  Within a year, they were married and expecting their first child.

Brennon came to a stop, a three-year-old sorrow stirring in his chest and threatening to take over.  He forcibly blinked back the memories and took stock of his surroundings.  He had one foot on the leaf-carpeted forest floor, another resting upon the gnarled root of a beech tree.  Ice seemed to have formed over his fingertips, despite the gloves, and although his breath didn’t mist the air in front of him, the cold had numbed his face and nose.  The evergreen undergrowth rustled with the sounds of animals seeking their nightly refuge, and in the distance, the first mournful cries of an owl signaled the encroaching dusk.

The light of the waning day had not dimmed to the point of pure darkness yet, but it seemed Brennon’s vision had gone in that direction anyway.  He had loved his sister more than anyone in the world, except for maybe his parents, and it had been because of him she had died.  A Faelorehn woman who should have lived for all eternity.  Her bright eyes and mischievous smile would never cheer him up again, and her laughter would never dance among the barley fields on a summer’s eve as they raced home from a day spent fishing along the stream.

The pain in his chest blossomed sharply and burst, but he fought against it.  Giving in to the grief right now would not help him or Rori, the one part of his sister he had left.  Setting his jaw, Brenn tightened his grip on his bow and focused his eyes forward, scouring the dense brush ahead for signs of the deer’s passage.  He would find it and bring it home, so he and Rori could have meat for the next week or so without having to make a trip into town.  He would take care of his nephew, see to it that he grew into a strong young man.  He would not fail his sister for a second time.

* * *

In the end, it didn’t take Brennon very long to track the doe.  She hadn’t gone far, maybe a half a mile or so deeper into the woods, and the evidence of her clumsy passage was more of a tell than the occasional splatter of blood on the dark leaves underfoot.

Must be a young one, Brennon thought with some regret.  But it was well into the autumn season, and unfortunately, many of the deer killed during this time of year were the younger, inexperienced ones.

The broken brush gave way to a small, secluded meadow, and Brenn paused in his forward progression.  The sky was a wash of slate and cobalt now, so there was still a little light for him to see by, but he knew at least part of the journey home would be made in darkness.  That all depended on how close he was to his quarry.  Brenn didn’t spot the deer right away, not with the poor light and tangled overgrowth of brambles and holly, but it was clear she had stumbled around in this small haven.  Drawing his knife so he’d be prepared to end her misery the moment he caught sight of her, Brennon moved past the last bit of thorn bushes and began casting his eyes around.  Movement to his right drew his attention to a small den of sorts, hollowed out from a tangle of ivy and blackberry vines.  The perfect place for a deer to hide, if it didn’t have a hunter on its tail.

“I’m sorry about this, girl,” he murmured as he made his way forward, his cloak snagging on thorns and sharp branches.

The doe was curled up in a tight ball, her long, graceful legs tucked beneath her, her head bent around and nestled against her body.  The arrow stuck out at an odd angle, a large dark patch of blood oozing from the wound.  She did not stir as Brennon approached with his knife.  Taking a deep breath, he reached in to end her suffering, but an odd movement stayed his hand.  The muscles beneath the doe’s soft, brown hide began to ripple and pulse, as if some foreign parasite undulated under her skin.  Horrified, Brennon snatched his arm away and took a few steps backward, watching in fascinated shock at the bizarre scene unfolding before him.

What strange glamour is at work here? he wondered.

The darkness that had settled in this small glen was deeper, richer than the night shades creeping up on the main forest, but even then, he missed nothing.  The spindly front legs of the deer shortened and filled out, the hind legs soon following suit.  The doe’s abdomen tapered in the middle and then flared out at the hips.  Her narrow head swelled and long, dark spirals of hair sprouted from the scalp.  The deer’s large ears grew smaller, disappearing beneath the tousle of hair on a now Faelorehn head.  Hooves morphed into hands and feet, complete with fingers and toes.  The entire transformation took less than thirty seconds, but it had felt like an eternity.

Brenn was certain he made some sound of shocked fascination as he quickly backed even farther away from this unnatural thing.  He would have turned and bolted if not for the tangle of roots that tripped up his feet, sending him crashing, unceremoniously, to the ground.  Cursing, he rolled over, ready to scramble away as fast as he could, but a soft mewling noise stopped him.  Instead of regaining his feet and running back the way he had come, he turned his head to look at the doe.  Or, at least, what had been a doe mere seconds ago.  Now, it was a woman.  A very young woman.  He narrowed his eyes, studying her cautiously, half expecting her to change forms again.  Her own eyes were clenched in pain, and she reached up one hand to finger the arrow protruding from her flesh.

“Don’t,” Brenn protested automatically, holding a hand out to her.

Too late.  Her fingers brushed the shaft of the arrow, and she cried out.  Her head rolled to the side, and her hand slipped away, streaking blood across her collar bone.  At first, Brenn thought she had died, but then, he saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest.  She had only lost consciousness.  Thank the gods.  Strange magic or not, he did not need another death weighing on his soul.

Now that the deer girl was motionless and asleep, Brenn lifted himself up off the ground and approached her guardedly.  He couldn’t tell much about her without any light, but he noted her slim figure and long, dark hair.  She didn’t look underfed, but she was not built like most Faelorehn women he knew.  For one, if she were to be standing next to him, her head might come level with his shoulders, if that.  And her skin tone was darker as well.  Not the pale shade found on most of those living in Dundoire Hollow and in the other parts of Eile he had visited when under the Morrigan’s control.

Eventually, Brennon shook his head and clenched his jaw.  He could stand out here all night, staring at this strange creature like the letches who hid in the reeds near the riverbank to watch the women in Dundoire Hollow bathe.  Or, he could draw on whatever shred of honor he still possessed and make up for the harm he had caused her.  As peculiar as she might be, it was his fault, after all, that she was lying naked on the ground with an arrow protruding from her shoulder.

Wondering if he was making a mistake, then dismissing his doubts just as quickly, he shrugged off his cloak and draped it around her body, careful of the arrow wound and cursing at the thorns and branches hindering his progress.  The girl didn’t even sigh in protest when he lifted her, but continued to breathe evenly, her eyes closed, her long, thick lashes curling away from her cheeks.  Brenn was compelled then to hold her closer to his body, maybe because he felt she needed the reassurance of his quiet promise to help her, or perhaps he did it for purely selfish reasons.  Maybe he needed to feel that she was, indeed, alive and that his mistake had not killed her.

“Whatever you are, and whatever curse you brought down upon yourself, I hope I do not curse you further by bringing you into my house,” he murmured, as he carried her light frame through the ever darkening woods, heading southeast and towards home.

Continue reading Brennon and Seren's story in Faeborne - A Novel of the Otherworld

Available DECEMBER 23RD

***PRE-ORDER YOUR DIGITAL COPY OF FAEBORNE TODAY!***

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Ghalien Cover Reveal and Teaser Chapter!

Hello Otherworld fans!
 
I hope you are all having a marvelous summer and that you are able to enjoy what's left of it.  I know many of you are impatiently awaiting the release of Ghalien, the second novella told from Cade's point of view, and believe me, I'm just as eager as you are to be done with it.  Well, I'm pleased to announce that the rough draft is complete and I'll be spending the next several days reading through it and making edits.  Once I have it where I want it, I'll be sending it off to my editor and beta readers.  I'm not promising any release dates yet because I'm not sure when it will be live.
 
What I can give you, however, is the cover.  A few months ago I posted two options here on my site and asked for you to tell me your favorite.  And the cover that received the most votes was the red one!  I don't have an exact count for you since so many of the votes were spread out over several weeks, but you seemed to like the red cover the most (and I must confess, I'm a bit partial to it myself ;)).

Also, I am including the first chapter of Ghalien for you to read.  Ghalien will be a little different than Ehriad in that it is composed of one longer short story and two extra scenes (I wanted to fit more scenes in, but it would have made the book far too long.  I'll have to set those aside for another novella in the future).  The first part, Ghalien, focuses on Cade's activities during the summer between Faelorehn and Dolmarehn.  The two scenes that follow are shorter but they are some of the scenes my readers requested.  The first one tells of the time Cade takes Meghan to the Otherworld to help her awaken her magic, and the second scene describes the events of the Beltane party at the end of Dolmarehn.  As of right now, the entire book comes in around 64,000 words, which is only 6,000 words less than Faelorehn.
 
Now, without further delay, I give you a sneak peek at Ghalien - A Novella of the Otherworld!
 
 -J.E. Johnson

Chapter One

Recollection

I was dreaming of Meghan when the harsh wave of dark magic tore me from my much-needed sleep.  The moment the shock of waking up to such a horror wore off, my anger grew hot and fierce.  My dreams were never reminiscent of pleasant memories from the past, for most memories I dared to recall were anything but pleasant.  But this one had been joyful and whatever unnatural faelah awaited me outside in the courtyard had ruined it.

Often when I slept I didn't dream at all, or the dreams would reflect the darkness I spent my time shying away from.  Simple, charcoal on paper landscapes that held no light or joy.  Lately, however, my dreams had stretched and contorted themselves into nightmares, horrific scenes of my mother's monsters tearing people to pieces.  No, not people, only one person: Meghan Elam.

Groaning, I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and tried to shake the horrors away.  How many days had passed since I last saw Meghan?  Oh right, just the one.  I had left her to heal from the wounds my mother had inflicted upon her.  I grimaced.  My mother . . .  Even thinking of the Morrigan in those terms turned my stomach.  She was no more a mother to me than an oak tree was to one of its acorns.  As soon as I was born, she cast me aside to fend for myself.  That is until she realized I could be of some use to her.  I had, after all, inherited my father's gift of battle fury, something that the Morrigan could use to her advantage.  So she had returned for me in the end.  And if it wasn't for my sister, I never would have succumbed to her wishes . . .

Enough Cade.  Those thoughts do you no good, I reminded myself as I rolled over, throwing my legs over the side of the bed in order to sit up.

"Fergus?" I called out, my throat dry enough to make me choke.  Once the coughing fit was over I remembered that Fergus wasn't with me.  He was in the mortal world guarding Meghan.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and drew on my magic.  It hadn't completely returned to me after undergoing my riastrad, but enough of it was there to accomplish my next task.

Fergus, I sent, the effort of reaching out to my spirit guide across the boundary between our worlds demanding my utmost attention.

Yes, he responded.  Meghan is well.  Her injuries are healing and she will rest a few days more before returning to school.  Only a small number of faelah linger on this side and I have been vigilant in my night hunts.  None shall harm her.

Thank you my friend, I sent back, breathing a sigh of relief and letting my magic return to where it resided next to my heart.

Before I could take much comfort in Fergus's news, however, a wave of cold, evil glamour trickled over my skin.  I clenched my teeth as the intrusive feeling left, hissing as the circular tattoo just above my heart burned like a poisonous brand.  Almost involuntarily, my arm snaked out and I pressed my hand to my skin, trying to rub the ache away.  It was no use.  The tattoo had been placed with the Morrigan's magic.  All of those she had enslaved bore the same mark and it was her way of keeping track of us as well as keeping us under control.  If the tattoo started to hurt then she was getting impatient.  I squinted through the darkness of my room and peered out the far window.  Sunrise was probably an hour or two away, judging by the deep, inky blue of the sky.  Guess I wasn't sleeping in this morning.  Once I set my mind to answering the Morrigan's call, the pain abruptly vanished.  I was tempted lie back down just to see if her magic would do anything to me, but I didn't really feel like playing games with my mother, not this soon after my expending my battle fury.

It took me longer than usual to get dressed.  Perhaps it had to do with my weakened state, but I think it had mostly to do with the fact that despite my misgivings, a part of me was always willing to irritate the Morrigan.  Bracing myself, I took a deep breath and looked into the mirror hanging over my bathroom sink, the flicker of candle light banishing some of the early morning darkness.  The mirrors of the Otherworld were clearer, somehow more revealing than those in the mortal world, and this one was no exception.  It had been a gift from my sister, one of the few fine things I kept in this ruined castle I called home.  That little detail would be changing soon, however.  Someday I was going to bring Luathara back to its former glory, but right now I had the consequences of a broken geis to deal with.

Sighing, I glanced once again at the figure staring back at me and winced.  Oh yes, warping into one's battle fury sure did a number on one's appearance.  The first thing I noticed were my eyes, their normal changeable green now a dull, pond-scum hue underlined by dark circles.  My skin was pale and my face thin and drawn taught.  I looked centuries older than I truly was.  Not that age ever really showed on the Faelorehn, but then not all of us had the gift of transforming into a berserker warrior bent on using every last physical resource to do the most damage possible.  Turning away, I shook those thoughts from my mind.  I never considered myself a vain person, but there was a difference between vanity and being horrified at what a fierce fight could do to my appearance.

Grabbing my heavy cloak, I blew out the candles and strode across the room.  I didn't bother making my bed or closing the door behind me.  No one ever came here, except for me, and if I delayed the war goddess any longer she might drive that painful magic deeper than the surface of my skin.

The morning greeted me with thick fog, wisps of it shredding away from the treetops and raining down in streamers of damp gray.  I guess it had taken me longer than I thought to get ready, because I could tell from the dim light that the sun had begun to rise somewhere in the east.  Bracing myself, I descended the stone steps and headed toward the opposite end of the courtyard.  About halfway to my destination a low, demanding cackle split the air, forcing my heart up into my throat.  I spun around, my eyes darting around the crumbling courtyard walls.  I expected to find a large black raven watching me from somewhere, so when my eyes fell upon a huge white bird a slight prick of surprise stabbed at me.

The bird tilted its head and regarded me with one eye, the eye that hadn't been damaged in some battle long ago.  It gave another one of those blood-chilling caws and then ruffled its feathers and shook, waiting for my next move.

"Tell your mistress I'm on my way," I growled as my hands balled into fists.

The white raven gave another croak before flapping its wings and disappearing into the mist.  As it headed east, I could have sworn it was laughing at me.

Speirling was waiting for me in the field, his dark ears pricked forward as he sensed my approach.  Letting out a deep whinny, he tossed his head and dug at the damp earth.  My misgivings melted away as my mouth curved into a smile.  As my fingers found Speirling's velvet nose, I was further comforted by his positive thoughts.

"You're always looking on the bright side, aren't you?" I murmured, pressing my forehead to his.

I didn't bother saddling him, since I was running late already and since I didn't really need a saddle.  A swift pace and five dolmarehn crossings later, Speirling and I found ourselves at the foot of the eastern mountains and on the threshold of the Morrigan's underground fortress.  Taking a deep breath that coated my lungs with ice, I slid from Speirling's back and ordered him to take refuge where he could.  No horse should ever have to cross into the Morrigan's territory, let alone follow me down the haunted crevasse that waited several yards ahead.  Wrapping my wool-lined cloak tightly around me, I took the first step down a path that would surely lead to pain.  Every instinct I possessed, and believe me, I possessed more than the average Faelorehn, bit and clawed and chewed at me to turn around and flee.  I could have, in fact I would have been smart to turn and forget the Morrigan and her evil demands.  My geis was broken and she had decided not to kill me, not yet at least.  But if I disobeyed her now, the first thing she'd do wouldn't involve coming after me.  No, she'd aim straight for Meghan and kill her, or worse.

Calling on my glamour to help fight my anxiety, I trudged on, kicking aside broken skulls and fighting the shivering chill that coursed through me.  Forever, it seemed, I walked, the walls growing steeper, the skeletons and mummified flesh of long dead animals becoming more frequent.  Fortunately the air was so cold it kept most of the stench at bay, but every so often a small breeze would stir up the scent of death and rot and I'd have to pause and swallow several times in order to keep from getting sick.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I reached the end of the narrow valley.  A great stone doorway complete with a skull-studded border, loomed before me.  On the branches of two dead, bleached oak trees perched three or four dozen ravens, all hunkered down against the cold, their stark blackness contrasting greatly against their bleak white and pale gray surroundings.  Not one of them uttered a sound or ruffled a feather.  Then, just as I reached up to touch the ogham letters adorning the stone doorway, one of the ravens let out a grumbling caw, setting all the others off.  I shot a glance upward, narrowing my gaze at the raven I hadn't seen before.  He was so pale that he'd blended in with the ashy rock behind him.

"Alahníl," I said, remembering the name of my mother's spirit guide.

Just then a deep rumbling sound rolled up from the earth and the door cracked open, exhaling a frozen breath of fear and death.  I got my panic and the overwhelming urge to shiver under control before I looked back up at the white raven.

"I take it you told the Morrigan of my arrival," I stated more than asked.

All I got in return was a self-satisfied grumble.  Forgetting the birds, I turned and faced the yawning darkness before me.  I had no idea how long the tunnel was, or if there was a tunnel at all.  Like many of the caves found in Eile, this one was a dolmarehn.  But instead of leading to another part of Eile or even to the mortal world or some other realm beyond our own, this one led directly into the Morrigan's cavern.  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped into the darkness, wondering if I was making the right choice and wondering what horrible, unconscionable thing my mother would have me do for her next.

* * * * *

Sneak Peek at Ehriad!

Hello everyone! 

     I've been getting a lot of emails and questions about the release date for Luathara (Book Three of the Otherworld) lately, and all I can say is that I'm going to do my best to get it out by November 1st.  I can't make any solid promises, however, because I have a lot going on during the next few months (the Orange County Book Festival at the end of the month, getting back into the rhythm of the new school year etc.).  But I would just like to let you know that I greatly appreciate all your messages and comments and that they do encourage me to keep on writing (even when my Muse demands a vacation ;)).  I can't thank you all enough for your wonderful support and enthusiasm for this series.

     I have also been working on Ehriad, my novella that will be a handful of scenes from Faelorehn, told from Cade's point of view.  I'm almost done with that book and I hope to have it out some time this month.  As of this moment, it is a little over 16,000 words, but may end up being more or less after editing.  I have no set date on its release, however, I am happy to give you guys a small excerpt to help tide you over until it's complete.  Again, thank you for all your emails and wonderful comments and I hope you enjoy this little preview!  (WARNING: There may be a few typos . . .)

 

From Ehriad, a Novella of the Otherworld . . .

 

The sharp snap of a twig and a low, almost imperceptible growl informed me that the creature I hunted was now only a few yards away.  I assumed his growl of frustration was aimed towards the branch he’d broken, giving away his presence, and not by any means meant to intimidate me.  No matter, I had planned it this way.  I had known he’d been following me for a good fifteen minutes now.  It helped when you had another pair of eyes, and a good nose, to help you along.

How close? I sent to my spirit guide.

Ten feet, to the right, Fergus answered.

His mind was sharp, focused on the hunt.  Even better.

 

I let my body ease out of the tense stance it had taken at hearing the sound of the snapped twig.  One more minute Fergus.  I’d let the creature stalk me for sixty seconds more.

The thing about faelah is despite their vicious, blood-thirsty tendencies, they weren’t very smart.  I was only a few feet from the dolmarehn now, boxed in on most sides by the steep walls of the culvert, and the faelah was somewhere above me, close to the edge but remaining out of sight.

What exactly are we dealing with? I asked my spirit guide.

About my size, dark, no hair.  Small eyes, big teeth, sharp, thin claws and a tail like a rat.

I nodded to myself.  This particular monster resembled most other faelah: the grotesque, zombie-like imitations of an animals created from the long-dead body parts of many others.  If the people of the mortal world could see it, they would be cursed with a lifetime of nightmares to disrupt their sleep.

Fortunately for them, the faelah’s glamour kept it invisible from sight.  No, only my people, the Faelorehn, could see the faelah.  At least until they were destroyed and a small window between the time their glamour faded from their bodies and their flesh turned to ash did the mere mortals get a chance to catch a glimpse.  This was one of the main reasons I lured as many as I could back into the Otherworld, or at least deep enough into the woods to kill them where they wouldn’t be seen by anyone.

The crunch of dead leaves met my ears again, along with Fergus’s words: Get ready.

I slipped my hand into my boot, pulling out a long knife, pressing the dull side against my forearm so that I could stab if necessary.

In the next breath, the faelah leapt from the edge of the ravine and used the trunks of dead trees crisscrossing my path like ladder rungs to make its way down.  The faelah came to rest only fifteen feet in front of me, a monster looking very much like a partially decomposed mountain lion.  It growled at me, showing several long teeth, and twitched its reedy tail.  Just as I had suspected, this one wasn’t going to let me lead it back into the Otherworld.  Looks like it would have to be a kill.  Not that I regretted it much.  Most of the faelah had been other animals at one time, animals that had been transformed by the Morrigan.  I bared my teeth in a grimace, hoping to intimidate the monster.

A flash of white caught the corner of my eye and a giant wolfhound joined us, using the same method the faelah had to reach the gully floor.  He landed behind the creature, bearing his teeth and laying his rusty ears flat against his skull.

Kill? he sent me.

Yes, this one will have to be a kill.

The beast howled and snapped its jaws before hunkering down on its hindquarters.

Here goes . . .

With preternatural speed the faelah leapt, mouth gaping open, massive paws tipped with needle-thin claws outstretched.  I froze for a fraction of a second, then with one swift movement, jerked my hand diagonally across my body, swiping the sharp edge of my blade against leathery skin.

The yowl in the monster’s throat died and I quickly sidestepped, letting the body hurtle past me.  It landed in a tangled heap in the dirt, the head nearly severed from the rest of the body.  Its limbs twitched a few times as black, putrid blood spilled from the open wound.  I wrinkled my nose at the smell, but didn’t gag.  I was used to the stench.

As I cleaned my blade I felt the faelah’s glamour swell like a bubble, growing larger and larger until it burst.  There was nothing to see really, but my own well of magic felt it all the same.  If there had been mortals around, they would now be gaping, dumbfounded at the atrocity lying at their feet.  I didn’t even stay to make sure it turned to dust.

“Come on Fergus, time to go,” I said to the wolfhound.

Wounds? he sent me.

No, not even a scratch.  I was, after all, very good at my job.

* * * * *

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of Ehriad!  Feel free to leave comments or if you have any questions about the Otherworld series, send me an email at: jejoescienne@yahoo.com