Love SciFy Fantasy? Join in the Blog Tour for A Broken Winter by Kale Knight (Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway)

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Title: A Broken Winter

Author: Kale Night

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 25, 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 81000

Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy, LGBT, Fantasy, futuristic, hurt/comfort, soul mates, re-incarnation, political terrorism, prison, religious extremism, scientist

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Synopsis

General Auryn Tyrus is tired of serving an emperor who turns political dissidents into expensive steak and claims to have swallowed Ankari’s sun. He is fed up with pretending not to know Emperor Haken is buying biological weapons and collecting taxes for a war that doesn’t exist. Auryn’s role in the entire mirage leads him to drastic choices, but unexpected news halts his plans. Seven-year-old Keita Kaneko, the son of a former lover, is captured by the emperor’s special forces. Auryn secretly intervenes and spares Keita from execution.

Keita changes everything. Instead of feeling helpless and oppressed by a self-proclaimed living god, Auryn works to expose the emperor as a fraud. But he knows exactly will happen if he’s discovered, and the extent of Emperor Haken’s lies is worse than anticipated. If Auryn expects anyone to believe the truth, he’s going to need proof. And a lot of help.

I’m sharing an exclusive excerpt of a deleted scene from A Broken Winter. The plot of A Broken Winter is rather complex and over the years I’ve spent working on the novel I’ve made a concentrated effort to reduce the complexity wherever possible. This scene got cut because I took out the idea of Tiernan being “tagged” (implanted with an enchanted chip of crystal) for the sake of simplicity. It’s unfortunate, because I like the interaction between Tiernan and Ari. Tiernan is a wounded paladin who’s traumatized by his previous mission and Ari is a Magus who takes an interest in helping him.

Excerpt

Exclusive Excerpt:

Tiernan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had company. He couldn’t think of anyone whose company was a favourable alternative to his own. Not since Cappa died.

  “You live here alone?” asked Ari, gazing around the large three story house. “My father’s a carpenter. He’d love this house.” It was constructed from wood rather than stone, unlike most other dwellings of comparable size; Tiernan’s mother liked the aesthetics of exposed wood grains and parallel beams. To her it felt warmer, more welcoming, and his father leapt at the opportunity to please her.

“It’s a lot of room for one person, but …” Tiernan shrugged. “I don’t know. It works.”

“You don’t get lonely?”

“No. I’m used to living alone. I don’t spend a lot of time around other people, unless I have to. Most people make me uncomfortable.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” asked Ari, hands delving into the depths of his pockets, the white fabric of his robes standing stark against the reddish brown undertone of his skin.

“No.”

Ari gestured towards a velvet-upholstered stool. “Have a seat. And take your shirt off, please.”

Tiernan sat. A look of brief confusion crossed his face in response to the latter part of the request, but he complied nonetheless. “Well, since you asked so nicely …”

“The most likely place for a tag is your upper back,” explained Ari, taking on a faint flush of embarrassment. 

He instinctively cringed when Ari touched him, shoulders hunching, retreating into an invisible shell.

“Sorry,” murmured Ari. His fingers curved around Tiernan’s shoulders, kneading.

Tiernan slowly withdrew from his shell, inhaling deeply. Ari’s fingers traced slow lines over his shoulders, barely grazing the surface of his skin, searching for anomalies. The movement was methodical, leaving a brief tingling sensation wherever Ari touched him.

Ari found what he was looking for close to Tiernan’s left shoulder blade. “Here. I can feel it underneath the skin.”

“Cut it out.”

“Do you have anesthetics and surgical tools lying around the house?”

“I have a sharp knife and a bottle of 80-year-old scotch.”

Ari sighed audibly. “We can go back to the hospital.”

“No, thanks. I’ve served my time there.”

Ari pressed close to him, long hair grazing his shoulder. “Stubborn,” murmured Ari. His fingers continuing to wander even with their objective accomplished, caressing Tiernan’s lower back.

Tiernan closed his eyes, envisioning Ari’s hand taking its exploration of his body elsewhere, invading his pants, capturing his cock and pumping it into submission.

Stop that. Ari doesn’t want you. You’re a source of curiosity, that’s all. Like a three-legged dog. How long do you think that’s going to last? He’ll get sick of you any day now, and he’ll disappear.

Tiernan slid off the stool with more force than expected, nearly toppling it. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, returning with a cloth, a knife, iodine, cotton swabs, gloves, tweezers, and a bottle of scotch.

“What did you use to sterilize these?” asked Ari, eying the implements critically.

“They’re clean. Don’t worry. No need to close the wound. It’ll heal on its own.”

“What am I supposed to do, sit here and watch you bleed?”

“Sure. It would make an interesting side-show act.”

Ari put on the gloves and disinfected the site with iodine. When he went to make the incision, he hesitated.

“What’s the problem?” asked Tiernan.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Give me the knife. I’ll do it.”

“The angle is all wrong; you won’t be able to get at it. I’ll be faster, and I can dull some of the pain.”

Tiernan opened the bottle of scotch and took a long swig. “So can I.”

Get on with it. The sooner he leaves, the better. Even if he did want you, you should be atoning for what you’ve done, not letting a man who should be immortalized in marble play with your dick.

Ari sliced, using an enchantment to minimise the pain. A razor thin sliver of bluish crystal became visible. He held out his free hand, a flare of energy circling each fingertip, sensing the nature of the inscription. Ari lowered his hand hastily, applying pressure to the wound. “I can’t remove it.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll kill you. There’s another incantation woven into the tag. If I try to remove it, it’ll send a jolt of electricity straight to your heart.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” Tiernan brought the bottle to his lips and drank deeply.

 

 

A Broken Winter
Kale Night © 2019
All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

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NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Kale currently resides outside a small town in northern Alberta, where she works in a library. She’s an avid reader with an English degree from the University of Calgary. In her spare time Kale loves playing video games, making chain maille, watching anime, and cultivating a steadily expanding bonsai collection.

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Tour Schedule

12/2 Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

12/3 The Blogger Girls

12/4 Love Bytes

12/5 Diverse Reader

12/6 MM Good Book Reviews

12/7 Mickie B. Ashling

12/8 I Love Books and Stuff Blog

12/9 Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author

12/10 Matt Doyle Media

12/11 MM Midnight Cafe

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Release Day Blitz: Shaper by Christine Danse (giveaway)

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Title:  Shaper

Series: The Mi’hani Wards, Book 1

Author: Christine Danse

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: March 13

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 14100

Genre:

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Synopsis

Nameless and without an identity, she wakes on the streets of Shapertown, an abandoned city that defies the laws of physics. She’s fleeing a threat she can’t remember. One woman holds the key to unlocking her memories and the dangerous truth: She is the threat.

Excerpt

Shaper
Christine Danse © 2017
All Rights Reserved

I didn’t dream.

I existed in a black space where for a time I almost had a family and friends, school, the everyday pleasures of domestic life. I drifted close to the shores of memory but didn’t make landfall.

The sound of voices pulled me out again, a man and a woman. They drew me out to sea and up into the sky, into my skin.

I came to on my side under the warmth of covers. Home, in my bed.

But no, not my bed. Not my room. No room I recognized.

Instinct told me to kick to my feet and bolt, but like a small animal, I felt safe under cover.

I scanned the contents of the small room. White dresser, table against the side with two chairs, one door. No more than that.

I made another pass with my eyes just to be sure, but there was only the one door, so only one way out. The voices came from just on the other side of it, so I wouldn’t be slipping out unseen. I would have to wait this out. I had no choice. It had nothing to do with the fact that the pillow was soft under my head, the blankets a bank of clouds atop me. A comfort like home, which I hadn’t known for…

For a long time. The feeling didn’t quite come with a memory, but a strong sense of hard surfaces and shivering sleep.

“I realize,” the woman was saying. She spoke in a hushed tone, but I could just get her words.

The man responded in a low rumble I couldn’t make out.

“I know that,” she said. “But you must understand the position this puts me in.”

Something about her voice made me uneasy. Maybe her tone. There was an edge to it, a wariness and also a weariness.

“I’m retired,” she said at last, flatly.

Nothing after that. They might have moved off, leaving me, forgetting me. But I didn’t move, just lay with the blanket pulled up to my eyes and held still, waiting for something, because something always came.

The rattle of the doorknob warned me just before the door opened. The man entered first. Tall, with dark brooding eyes and a presence like a storm cloud compacted into a man’s shape. But it was the woman at his elbow who scared me. Thin, with straight brown hair and luminescent blue eyes. Beautiful but tired, mouth in a line like it had never known a smile.

I sat up and clutched the blanket, never mind that I was clothed. I pushed back my curls.

“You’re awake,” the man said. He drew out a chair and sat. The woman stood leaning back against the doorframe with her arms crossed, seemingly impassive, but our awareness of each other pulled like a taut string.

“I’m Nero,” the man said. “And this is Natalia.”

After that came a pause. They seemed to be waiting for something. I looked between them, fingers curled around the top edge of the blanket. My gaze caught the woman’s and snagged.

He prompted: “Can you tell us your name?”

I opened my mouth and— “No.” I felt an instant pulse in the air, like a throb of hostility from them, and added, “I don’t know.”

The man’s eyes flickered. The woman shifted from one leg to the other and propped the foot against the wall.

“I don’t know,” I said again. “I don’t know my name.” The edge of panic crept into my voice.

They exchanged a glance.

The man asked me more questions. It was a terror and a relief not to have the answers. They could get nothing out of me. I could betray no one.

He seemed to get the same idea. He stood and exchanged a conversation with the woman that consisted of a look, a subtle glance in my direction, a scowl, and a tight nod. Then the man told me that Natalia would make me comfortable.

“I’m comfortable here,” I said. At that moment, I would have rather been huddled in the corner of that crumbling building like a dog behind the dresser.

The woman, Natalia, dredged up a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes but also wasn’t unkind, and held a hand up, gently beckoning. I couldn’t decline.

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NineStar Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords

Meet the Author

Christine lives with her writing partner in the wilds of urban Oregon, where they raise weeds, worms, and eyebrows.

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