Exile is on sale + An Excerpt from Guardian
It’s a Caein Legacy kind of day here.
First off, ebooks of Exile are currently on sale now through August 21 for $0.99 (USD/AUD/CAD/GBP) on all retailers, thanks to a BookBub Featured Deal. So don’t miss out on the sale!
Click here for purchasing links for Exile.
An Excerpt from Guardian (Book 2):
This is a brand new excerpt from Guardian that I have not previously shared.
Guardian is currently available for preorder and will release November 28. Click here for preorder links.
I am currently looking for a few more interested readers to participate in the ARC team. ARCs will be sent on September 1. Please contact me if you’re interested!
I’d yet to catch more than a passing glimpse of the Venom-weavers, and while I believed I held the advantage, I wasn’t certain. My claws had rent through Corodan carapaces with ease, but would the Venom-weavers’ prove similar?
Regardless, I would fight to protect Alexander and the others. I’d heal from any injuries I might sustain—I always did. Determination to see my brother succeed drove me forward, despite the unrest brewing in the silken maze of the trees.
Hours passed before we entered the clearing Emmarie had described, while the Venom-weavers became ever more restless in their anticipation. The path opened abruptly into a wide meadow, carpeted in scrubby grass and devoid of webbing. I paused at the edge of the trees, silently willing the others to move more swiftly. On the other side of the meadow was the shimmering, green-gray barrier, our salvation from our arachnid tormentors.
Beyond the barrier, I spied several low brick structures surrounding a central building, and a number of people went about their business safely within. The scent of ozone wafted through the air, growing stronger with each step I took toward the barrier.
The spiders fell ominously silent as we entered the meadow.
Alexander broke into a sprint once he was in the open, while Chela urged Sienna forward to keep pace with him. The terrified packhorse didn’t resist and broke into a near-gallop.
I drew a breath and paused as I counted slowly to ten, allowing the others time to reach safety before I entered the clearing and sprung the trap. They were half way across when I emerged from the trees, moving swiftly.
A burst of chittering accompanied the unsettling sound of many chitinous limbs as they simultaneously unfolded and leapt into action.
I turned abruptly to face the Weavers, skidding on the grass underfoot. Dozens emerged from the trees to form a half-circle around my location. I backed toward the center of the clearing, feigning uncertainty, though I was merely moving into the open where my abilities wouldn’t be hindered by the overgrown forest. Let them believe I feared them; it would provide me with the advantage of surprise.
Each Weaver was the size of a large horse. I’d encountered countless small spiders during my lifetime, but seeing them enlarged to this scale made it clear just how grotesque arachnids could be. Their bodies were smooth, glossy, and gray, but coarse hairs jutted from between the joints of their legs. Their mouthparts were likewise covered in hairs and tipped with a wicked pair of fangs nearly as long as a human’s forearm. Each Weaver glared through an array of six ink-black eyes. They pressed closer, chittering amongst themselves in their raspy, unnatural tongue.
I lashed at the nearest spiders with my tail, making it clear I was as dangerous from the rear as I was from the front. They skittered away, nimbly avoiding the blow. I took another step backward and tensed, awaiting their first move.
“Andrew!” Alexander called, his voice distant.
I wanted to look back, to see for myself that he was safe, but turning my attention away from the spiders for even a second could prove deadly. I took another step backward, edging toward the barrier. Alexander shouted something more, but I was unable to make out his words.
In the same instant, the Weavers pushed forward in unison. Some leapt over others in their sudden frenzy to attack. I roared a challenge, tearing at those foolish enough to engage a dragon.