Blog Tour Giveaway: Daughter of Etheron by Brandon Young

Daughter of Etheron
by Brandon Young
Genre: YA Space Fantasy
Release Date: April 18th 2017
Starforged Entertainment

Summary from Goodreads:

Born the children of the ruling family.

Betrayed by the ones that swore to protect them.

IN A SHATTERED GALAXY . . .

Siblings, Elenah and Teveran are thrust into a secret war of space magicians that will decide the fate of the galaxy.

But a darkness swells in the galactic depths, magicians wielding magic not seen for millennia, and as the struggle for power grows more desperate, the children might find themselves fighting on opposite sides of the conflict.

The first book in the Saga of the Magicus Eye.

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About the Author

Brandon Young is the debut author of the Saga of the Magicus Eye. He’s also a musician, gamer, and avid Star Wars fan living in Melbourne, Australia.

Author Links:

Website│Goodreads│Twitter│Facebook

GIVEAWAY:

GIVEAWAY + MAGICUS MONTHLY SIGN-UP

Receive a free digital copy of Daughter of Etheron and the first novella in the Magicus expanded universe, Rebel and the Aeonseer! Simply fill-in the signup form to receive monthly updates on the Saga of the Magicus Eye, and automatically go into the draw to be one of ten winners! This giveaway expires at midnight on May 12, 2017 (AEST), with winners being notified that weekend.

LINK TO SIGN-UP FORM :

http://www.brandon-young.com/about

EXCERPT : Elenah

After escaping from her homeworld of Etheron, Elenah has arrived at the spaceport of Mokuura for refueling, alongside two unlikely allies...

Elenah leapt out of the Voyager, her shoes slapping the glossy stone of the overflowing spaceport. Lights flashed across every surface, amber and blue and occasionally vibrant greens, but the city was not colourful. The sky was black, and there were no stars nor a sun. Shivering in the chill air, Elenah pulled her grey sweater across her blouse and exercised her cold hands.

“There’s a lot more people here than I remember,” Oswald said, ushering Eukaloo from the shuttle. Elenah watched the Troff, whose thin face swivelled upon his long, grey neck as he took in these new surroundings. His large, yellow eyes darted about. The light slithered across his greenish-grey skin, slipping in the cracks between his reptilian scales.

“You’re bringing him?” Elenah asked.

“Not because I like him. Because I don’t trust these people not to kidnap him,” Oswald said as he led them briskly away from the ship, and through an archway that became a broad tunnel.

“I thought it was locked with a protective—”

“If you’d looked around, you’d find that Mokuura is not a Free World. There are magicians here and all breeds of other dodgy sorts. Just keep your eyes on the road and don’t stare.” Elenah wondered what made Eukaloo so special, and what Oswald needed of him, but her thoughts were soon whisked away as she glanced up and around and examined the city.

Windows overlooked a dark metropolis to either side of them. Ships hovered steadily through lanes in the sky. Buildings rose up awkwardly, jutting unevenly into the great dark. Elenah realised it was the first extra-terrestrial world she’d ever stepped foot on. It was also nothing like she’d imagined. Cold, dead, depressing.

“It’s certainly become a lot grimmer,” Oswald said, tipping his top hat so it shaded his face. He brushed a curl of brown hair out of his eyes. “But that’s not saying much.”

“Why is it so bad?” Elenah asked.

“Who knows? One day, I’m sure this place won’t even exist.”

They skirted to the side as a short creature passed them through the tunnel. Is that another Troff? Elenah wondered, glancing at its yellow bulb-like eyes and grey reptilian skin. Walking several strides behind him was a taller nonhuman with broad pink arms ringed with tattoos, and a snout that stuck pointedly from the centre of his face.

They emerged from the tunnel and into some sort of shanty town, with buildings that looked fit for slaves: slanted corrugated roofs, sphere-shaped lamps hanging from the eaves, trashcans spewing papers and scrap metal. Elenah clutched the straps of her knapsack tightly, afraid that somebody might steal it—not that it contained anything of value.

“Best you don’t talk to these folk,” Oswald told her, leaning close. “They’ll do anything to swindle, bribe or murder you.” Elenah followed his eyes towards an old lady sitting in front of a burrowed-out building, proffering a grey tankard that rattled with chits. Beneath the soot and scraggly hair, Elenah could’ve sworn that was a human.

She averted her eyes and quickened her pace to keep up with him. “What are they?”

“Beggars,” he said. “Quite unfortunate. Nobody wants to live in a place like this. And if anybody says otherwise, don’t believe them.” Elenah screwed up her face as a bad smell wafted past. “Most of these people, they’re either hiding from something...or they’re just trapped here.”

“I hope nobody steals your ship,” Elenah said, wishing they’d walk a little faster. The beggars were everywhere, sitting along the skirts of winding roads, smoking, playing dice and cards, scrounging through the trashcans. They reminded her of rats, flitting about, and she wondered why nobody tried to help them. “Will they hurt us?”

“Not if you keep your distance,” Oswald said. “Come here.” He turned a corner and led them out of the town. Buildings here rose two or three times higher, but they remained dark and crooked. Other people lurked among the shadows. They scurried about with backpacks or grey sacks, riffled through fried vehicles and toppled structures. Scavengers. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the acrid, sweaty smell clinging to the air.

“Now, this might be difficult,” Oswald said awkwardly, hauling Eukaloo to a stop and rounding on them outside a shop lit with amber lamplight. The sign was written in glowing alien strokes. A bald-headed creature stood behind the counter with greasy yellow skin. He had one customer: a guy whose face was concealed by a high brown collar, whose eyes were metal spheres that rolled about, blinking red and white. “It might end up taking longer than I would like it to. If you want to take a wander, just don’t go too far.”

Elenah nodded, and Oswald also did—just a little less surely. Then he stepped away with Eukaloo and vanished amidst the crowds. Elenah couldn’t help but notice how well they seemed to blend in. She shouldn’t have been surprised; after all, Oswald was a criminal.

Brandon's Guest Post: The Saga of the Magicus Eye

In a galaxy forged in the debris of a magical explosion...

We enter a war of military might and magic where secret armies collide and an ancient foe threatens to topple the stability of the galaxy. Enter the Saga of the Magicus Eye, a brand new space fantasy epic told in two narrative threads spanning thousands of years:

The Main Sequence is the primary story thread, a series of novels broken up into multiple story arcs beginning with Daughter of Etheron—the first in a trilogy. As the main sequence progresses, we will see reoccurring characters, locations and themes, as well as how they and the galaxy they live in change over generations of warfare and revolution.

Daughter of Etheron is the perfect place to start as it minimizes the learning curve exponentially. In writing it, I knew the story needed to fulfil a number of functions. It had to:

• Introduce readers to a brand new galaxy
• Establish the state of the galaxy
• Have a satisfying ending
• Set the stage for something exciting to come

So I came up with the simple story thread of a girl who leaves her homeworld for the first time, so as to put her in the reader’s shoes, with the simple quest of finding her brother—which can be easily accomplished in a 100,000-word novel. Meanwhile, a secondary thread follows her brother as he learns about the more mystical aspects of the galaxy under the tutelage of a powerful magician—which in turn introduces us to another important element of the saga: magic.

The use of multiple viewpoints was a conscious choice made in the early stages of idea development. I specifically chose to include a diverse set of characters (human, non-human, old and young) in order to reveal many different aspects of the galaxy and ensure this novel worked as a strong launching point for the rest of the saga.

However, it is not a necessary starting point...

The Expanded Universe serves as a companion to the main sequence, a series of standalone novellas and short stories designed to expand on characters and events mentioned and starring in the main sequence. The EU is not required reading in order to understand the main sequence, although new readers could potentially start here so as to try a smaller story before delving into the meat of the saga. The first novella was released simultaneously to Daughter of Etheron, and is entitled Rebel and the Aeonseer: a story about the birth of the rebellion and the supernatural creatures that set things into motion. Rebel will be included free with every purchase of Daughter of Etheron, but can also be purchased on its own for the low price of $1.99AUD (or about $1.50USD). I’m also excited about the first short story, A Perfect Doom, releasing later this year for free.

I had a lot of fun writing the first two instalments in the Saga of the Magicus Eye, and I hope you’ll come along for the ride and find something you like within its pages!

Blog Tour Organized by:

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Blog tour giveaway:Angelic Anarchy, Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy by J.P. Epperson

Angelic Anarchy

by J.P. Epperson

Genre: Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy

Release Date: September 6th 2016

Summary:  

Where there is goodness, evil is sure to follow. Where there is light, darkness is never far behind.

Belleeza isn’t the angel your parents told you about as a child. She’s a weapon. A warrior. But even warriors have their weaknesses—and even warriors can have their hearts broken. Betrayed by the only man she’s ever loved, Belleeza throws herself into an unusual mission to find a missing teenage boy. But the treacherous path she finds herself on could lead her closer towards the darkness than she had ever imagined—perhaps even into the depths of Hell itself. And what about Colton, the beautiful angel turned demon who trampled all over her heart?

Betrayals, secrets, torture, and passion. Be careful what you wish for—Heaven on Earth might just be more than you bargained for.

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Buy Link: Amazon

About the Author

JP Epperson lives in Atlanta, Georgia. She is a lover of all things fantasy and paranormal. When not writing or sitting with her head in a book she enjoys spending time with her husband and two sons. JP is a lover of the outdoors and her second home is a tent in the woods curled up with a book next to a campfire.

Author Links:

Website│Twitter│Facebook│Goodreads

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Scalding hot water traced the scars along my back as I placed my hands against the stone shower wall. As a warrior angel I have survived several years of battle, but not unscathed. I have many battle wounds—most of which reside on my back and arms. Wounds from human weapons we tend to heal without a problem; wounds by the weapons of angels and demons are not so forgiving.

After weeks of searching for him, last night I finally caught up with the demon I had been hunting. He put up a ferocious fight and my muscles were still aching despite the heat of the shower but I would be getting briefed on my next case soon so reluctantly I reached out and turned off the faucet.

Just before I stepped out of the shower, I froze. The air changed, and I knew that I was no longer alone. Don’t ask me how I knew because I couldn’t tell you. Not really. There was no pop, or bells; no flash of light, breezes, or anything like that. It was as if there was just the slightest shift in the air. I braced for attack, reached my right hand behind my back, and unsheathed a sword that wasn’t there a moment before. My heavenly relics—my weapons—are always there when I need them and never when I don’t. Where they go when I am unarmed, I have no idea. All that matters to me is that they are there when I reach for them.

With my left foot, I kicked open the glass door and stepped out into the empty bathroom, dripping wet. Utterly naked but for my sword. I peeked around the door and slowly entered my bedroom.

“What do you want?” I said to the empty room, making my voice as calm as possible.

“Relax, Beauty, I’m completely unarmed,” said a humored voice without a face. “You’re looking just as scrumptious as the last time we faced each other.”

A dark-haired figure walked in, full of ease, and leaned against my bedroom door, crossing his feet. He had an apple from my dining-room table in his hand. I spun my sword, placing the tip of it into his throat the moment he walked through the door. He brought the apple to his mouth, rubbed it against his shirt, and took a big bite, looking as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

It was Colton.

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Blog Tour Giveaway:The Reader by M.K. Harkins

The Reader

by M.K. Harkins

Genre: YA Paranormal

Release Date: August 25th 2016

Summary from Goodreads

Hunted, shot, and without her memory, eighteen-year-old Ann Baker wakes in shallow water on a deserted Pacific Northwest island. She is soon approached by two young men claiming to be her friends. Something isn’t right, but when gunshots sound, Ann is left with little choice but to allow Devon and Archer to help her escape. Soon she finds herself in their North Bend mountain compound, where the higher evolved humans claim to be mind-readers. While Ann heals, she realizes they believe her to be one of the last and most powerful of all – The Lost One.

She’s welcomed by most with opened arms, but not everyone is happy about her arrival. A jealous adversary has plans for Ann, which spirals the entire Reader community into chaos.

As lies, murder, and betrayal threaten to rip apart the once harmonious mountain dwellers, Ann is thrust into making a decision that could save or devastate not only The Readers, but all of mankind. But there’s just one glitch: by doing so it may require her to make the ultimate sacrifice.  

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Buy Links:Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo

About the Author

MK has always been a voracious reader. After hitting a dry spell of reading material, she decided to write the kind of book she'd like to read. This resulted in the creation of her debut novel, Intentional. (Award for Best Sweet Romance - eFestival of Words- August 2014)

Unintentional, her second book, is based on the life of one of the characters in Intentional. Unintentional was written as a stand-alone book.

Breaking Braydon and Taking Tiffany have both been released. Available on Amazon.

The Reader is MK's latest project, due out 2016.

When she's not writing novels, she likes to spend her free time traveling the world, splashing in mud puddles (She lives in Seattle, what can she say?), watching movies and reading (!)

MK also runs her own business in her current hometown of Mercer Island, Washington.

Author Links:

Website│Goodreads│Twitter│Facebook

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Blog Tour Giveaway:Desire in Frost, by Alicia Rades

Lots of goodies to distract you today!
Find out about the Desire in Frost story, by Alicia Rades,
Watch the trailer, read the excerpt and the characters' interview, take part in the giveaway...

Crystal Frost just recently discovered she can see ghosts and predict the future, yet the mystery of Hope Ross's abduction still haunts her dreams. While traveling to Florida for Thanksgiving, Crystal's visions of Hope only grow stronger. She enlists the help of her soon-to-be step-cousin Robin, a decision that complicates the entire picture—and her feelings. Can she figure out what happened to Hope and learn why Robin is so guarded, or will her newfound abilities fail her?

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Fire in Frost (Crystal Frost #1) on Goodreads

Buy Links:

Amazon

About the Author

By day, Alicia Rades is a freelance writer, blogger, and editor. When inspiration strikes, she is also an author. Alicia has been captivated by the YA paranormal and supernatural genre since reading The Seer series by Linda Joy Singleton when she was 12 years old, and most of her stories are born out of the love for the genre. In college, Alicia majored in professional writing. Alicia lives in Wisconsin with her husband and too many fish to count.

Don't miss a thing related to Alicia's books. Sign up for her newsletter at http://www.aliciaradesauthor.com/news...

Author Links:

Website│Goodreads│Twitter│Facebook

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Desire in Frost Excerpt

I used the sounds of the waves coming in my window as an anchor so I’d have something to focus on besides my racing thoughts. The minutes ticked by, and after a long time, colors began swirling in the ball. They became the center of my focus as I fell deeper into the unknown. A faint figure formed in the crystal ball. I almost thought I saw Hope’s face, but then the image washed away as a chill settled over the room.

“Help!” A voice startled me. My eyes jerked up to find a young girl standing in the room.

My head began spinning. I was glad I was sitting down so I didn’t have to find an extra support to keep myself upright. I was starting to understand this feeling all too well.

The girl had long dark hair and big beautiful eyes. For a second, I almost thought she was Hope. My heart sank at the thought that I’d failed her, but the girl standing in front of me was a lot older than Hope, just a few years younger than me.

I wanted to smile at her, to let her know that I wasn’t a threat, that I could help her even. I didn’t when I saw that the ghostly girl had an expression of urgency fixed to her face. My expression transformed to mirror hers when I realized that someone was likely in danger. I couldn’t think of any other excuse for why this ghostly girl would show herself to me.

“You have to help her,” she said. “She’s been scared for so long. I just want to see her happy.”

Now I knew for sure someone was in danger. Calm down, I told myself, but that was always difficult when a ghost was asking for help.

“Who?” I asked, a little bit louder than I intended. “Who do you need me to help?”

The girl looked around the room as if trying to take in her surroundings, and then her eyes fell back on me.

“My sister.”

Crystal Frost Character Interview

Robin: Crystal, our readers have some questions about Desire in Frost. Think you can spare a minute or two to answer them?

Crystal: Oh, sure! I love answering readers’ questions.

Robin: Okay. The first one is easy. What is Desire in Frost about?

Crystal: Well, it’s the story about our trip to Florida. I had just found out I was psychic a few weeks back, and I had been seeing this little girl in my mind. Her name is Hope. I wasn’t making any progress on what had happened to her, and we already had the vacation planned, so of course, I had to make the trip. Turns out it was a good idea. The story is all about how I rescued her from her abductor while we were on vacation.

Robin: Well, I won’t ever forget that vacation. Onto the next question. Some people want to know about the series. This is part of a series, correct?

Crystal: Yes, it is! This is the second in the Crystal Frost series after Fire in Frost.

Robin: Do people have to read Fire in Frost first before Desire in Frost?

Crystal: Not necessarily. The two books work as standalones, but I’d recommend reading Fire in Frost first to get a better idea of my psychic abilities and the history about my mom not telling me about them.

Robin: I’m glad you mentioned that because it leads us into our next question. Why didn’t your mom tell you about your abilities?

Crystal: She didn’t think I had them, and she wanted me to live a normal life. She owns a Halloween-themed shop in town called Divination, but I always thought it was just for fun. I had no idea the paranormal was real, and she just wanted me to be normal.

Robin: What’s it like now that you know you’re not?

Crystal: Not normal? Well, it’s a lot better than thinking I’m crazy! It’s still really confusing for me, to be honest. I’m not quite sure how I feel about it yet.

Robin: I’m sure you’ll figure it out. So, we mentioned Desire in Frost is part of a series. Will there be more books?

Crystal: Yes. The third one, Inspired by Frost, will be out sometime this summer. I’m still working with Alicia on the fourth, and we’re not sure when that will release, but it may not be for a while.

Robin: Well, at least they won’t have to wait long for the third book. But people who haven’t read the books are wondering, who would you recommend the books to?

Crystal: Anyone who likes young adult paranormal. I’m only 15, so it’s good for that age group. I think kids 12 and up would really like it, but a lot of adults enjoy the books, too.

Robin: If they decide they want to read the books, where can they buy them?

Crystal: They’re available on Amazon in Kindle and print format. Fire in Frost is also available on iBooks, Nook, and Kobo, but Desire in Frost is only on Amazon at the moment.

Robin: That’s all the questions for now. Thanks for answering them.

Crystal: No problem! If readers want to stay updated on my stories, they can follow Alicia on Facebook or subscribe to her newsletter at aliciaradesauthor.com. I hope they enjoy my second book!

Book Trailer:  

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Blog Tour Giveaway: In Place of Never by Julie Anne Lindsey

Get ready to be distracted by Julie Anne Lindsey  and Mercy's story In Place of Never. Take a look at the awesome cover, learn all about the author, read an excerpt and take part in the giveaway!

Enjoy!

In Place of Never
by Julie Anne Lindsey
Release Date: February 2nd 2016
Lyrical Press

Summary from Goodreads:

Can the truth set her free?… 

A part of Mercy died the summer her sister tragically drowned. Now Mercy has a chance to discover if Faith’s death was an accident—or murder.  Her first step is to confront the lead suspects: a band of traveling gypsies—the last people who saw her sister alive. But Mercy finds an unexpected ally in Cross, the soulful musician in their ranks. He’s a kindred spirit, someone who sees into her heart for the first time in, well, forever. Yet stirring up the past puts Mercy in danger…

Suddenly someone is shadowing Mercy’s every move, making her even more determined to uncover the facts. With Cross by her side, she is ready to face it all, even if that means opening up to him, knowing he may one day leave her. What she discovers is a truth that rocks the foundation of her small river town—and a love worth risking everything for….

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About the Author

Julie Anne Lindsey is a multi-genre author who writes the stories that keep her up at night. She’s a self-proclaimed nerd with a penchant for words and proclivity for fun. Mother of three, wife to a sane person and Ring Master at the Lindsey Circus, most days you'll find her online, amped up on caffeine and wielding a book. Julie started writing to make people smile. Someday she plans to change the world.

Julie is a member of the International Thriller Writers (ITW), Sisters in Crime (SinC) and the Canton Writer’s Guild.

Author Links:

Website│Goodreads│Twitter│Facebook

 Chapter 1

The Sideshow

Faith is dead.

The words had formed my first thought every day for three years. Strangely, on the anniversary of her death, my mind was blank.

My bedroom door stood open, courtesy of my little sister, Prudence, no doubt. This was her way of nudging me into motion. Muted shades of gray light filtered through rain-washed windows, barely enough to illuminate dust motes floating overhead. Time to face the worst day of the year.

Sounds and scents of breakfast climbed two flights of stairs and settled into my thoughts with an eerie echo. I pulled clothes from the pile and brushed my teeth and hair. These were the things I’d only begun to appreciate before everything changed.

Far too soon, my toes curled over the top step outside my room. I pulled in a deep breath and braced my palms against cool stairwell walls, dragging my fingertips over the grooves and planes in the wood paneling as I inched downstairs.

From the quiet hallway outside our kitchen, life looked surreal, like the setting for a play with actors in motion but no audience or script. Dad’s clothes were as neat as a pin, and his hair fell in the same schoolboy style he’d outgrown thirty years ago. The morning paper lay open in front of him, beside a full cup of coffee that had lost its steam. Pru stood at the stove shoveling eggs from a pan onto a plate. She, too, appeared ready for the day, if I ignored the tremor in her hand and the strain in her brow. She nearly dropped the plate when she turned from the stove.

“Mercy.” She pressed a hand to her heart and stumbled to the table with the eggs. “Why are you just standing there?”

Dad turned blank eyes on me, unspeaking.

I moved to the counter and filled Mom’s favorite travel mug with coffee, ignoring the palpable tension. In sixty seconds, I’d be out the door with my free, portable caffeine.

Pru untied the apron from her waist and folded it on the counter. She stared at me. “Aren’t you eating?”

I sealed the mug. “No.” I needed to be anywhere but here.

Dad tensed. The paper crumbled around his tightened grip, but he wouldn’t get involved, especially not today. Today we’d pretend we were still a family. Three months from now, we’d do it again.

Pru bit her trembling lip. “Mercy.” The word was barely audible, even in the quietest house on Earth.

Something tore inside me, and I wavered, slowly sipping coffee until the bitter taste Mom had loved turned my stomach.

Dad pressed the paper against our ancient Formica tabletop and lifted cold coffee to his lips.

I settled onto a chair and tapped my nails over tiny flecks of gold and silver embedded in the table’s white surface. He and Mom had received the kitchen set as a wedding present from her parents. A grooved metal wrap curled around the table’s perimeter. My sisters and I had done homework at that table. Birthday cakes and Thanksgiving dinners were served there. When our family was whole, we’d played cards and board games together every Friday night. Family night. Lately, we were a family of ghosts, figurative and literal.

The legs of Dad’s chair scraped over worn linoleum. He poured his coffee into the sink and freed his jacket from the chair back where he’d sat. He threaded his arms though too-large holes. “I’ll be home late.”

Pru flopped her arms against her sides. “But you didn’t eat.”

He scooped his Bible and keys off the counter and pulled the front door closed behind him.

Pru collapsed into the seat across from me. Bony elbows slid across the tabletop. “Please eat something.”

“No thank you.”

Her frown deepened. “No one eats around here. It isn’t healthy.”

“We don’t sleep or talk either. At least we’re consistent.” A deep cringe pinched my heart. I’d promised myself not to provoke Pru. She was only a kid. The least I could do was use restraint and good manners. “Sorry.”

I stared into her wide blue eyes, wanting to say a million things I couldn’t. “You didn’t need to make breakfast. It’s not your responsibility.” The word lodged in my throat, filling the space until air struggled past.

“Sorry.”

Hurt welled in Pru’s eyes. “Whose responsibility is it then? Yours?” She stood in a burst of energy I couldn’t fathom, rocking her chair onto two legs before it settled with a thump. “I’m fifteen, not five.” Pru whirled through the room, dumping eggs in the trash and shoving dishes into the sink. Defeated by her loved ones before nine AM. It wasn’t fair.

She turned on her heels and glared at me. “You’re leaving in six weeks. Then what?” She bit her bottom lip and scrubbed a plate hard. “You could at least pretend you don’t want to go. Even if it’s a lie.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m going to college like everyone does.”

Her weary eyes drooped at the corners. “Not everyone.”

“Not Faith.” As if I needed the reminder. As if I didn’t think of that every day.

She dried her hands and pursed her lips. “What are you doing today?”

Thunder rocked the house. “I’m going out.”

“Out where? There’s a storm. Besides, my friends are coming over for movies and popcorn. Why don’t you stay? Company could take your mind off…stuff.”

Stuff. Right.

“Me, Prudence, and the color guard?” I flipped a handful of sandy curls off Pru’s shoulder. “I’m not sure that’d be fun for anyone.”

“Please.”

“Can’t. I’m going to go see Mom and Faith. I’ll be home later.” Her doe-eyed expression stopped me short. Since when was Pru so needy? She’d certainly never needed me. Had she? Even if she had, what was I supposed to do about it? “If you want, you can come up to my room when your friends leave. We’ll eat cold pizza and drink warm soda after Dad falls asleep.” My throat constricted further with each word. Faith and I had spent many nights that way when Pru was small and sound asleep in her room next door.

She paled. “Maybe.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Maybe?” That was the best invitation I’d ever offered and she’d turned me down. Something was up. “Why? Do you have plans after Dad falls asleep?”

“Maybe.”

I sucked air. “You can’t go out after curfew.”

She crossed thin arms over her chest. “I said maybe. Anyways, since when do you care? Is this a joke? You think you’re in charge?”

My gut wrenched. Was I? Everyone ahead of me on the chain of command had either died or otherwise checked out. “You can’t stay out all night.”

She clenched her jaw.

I grabbed my bag off the coat tree and secured it cross body before she lashed out. “I can’t do this right now. I’ll be home soon. I won’t interrupt your movie day, but I will look for you tonight.”

Pru scoffed as I edged past her and out the door where Dad had disappeared minutes before.

My muddy Chucks waited on the rack against the railing.

Pru glared at me through the window.

I couldn’t stay. I had to visit Mom and Faith before the storm washed the roads away.

I gathered my hair into a knot as I sloshed through the rain toward the edge of town. Puddles splashed warm water onto my ankles. Raindrops swiveled patterns over my forehead into my eyes, blurring my vision and masking a hot tear of frustration on one cheek. The streets were empty of pedestrians. Cars with wipers on warp speed settled at stoplights or outside shops, collecting women in rain gear and children wielding umbrellas shaped like storybook characters.

Dad’s car sat alone in the church lot. He dreamed of inspiring the town and he prayed fervently for a healing of our broken community. The concept was nice if you weren’t one of his forgotten daughters.

I ducked my head and moved faster, dashing through the lot and across the intersection at Main Street. Soggy, wind-battered flyers waved from light posts on every corner. The annual River Festival returned this month, assuming St. Mary’s didn’t wash off the map before then. I tugged my hood over my ears and sloshed onto the sidewalk. American flags lined store windows. Support our Troops shirts and Uncle Sam bobbleheads monopolized every retail display in town. The Fourth of July fun was right on schedule, only a few days until the big parade and concert in the park. My family didn’t celebrate this weekend anymore.

Several yards away, two guys took shelter under the awning outside our local honky-tonk. Their laughter broke through the drumming of rain on rooftops and pounding of truck tires through puddles. Both were tall, dark, and out of place in my town. Instead of jeans and boots, like cowboys or country singers, or the shorts and gym shoes of locals and tourists, this pair wore black pants and dress shoes. Their matching V-neck shirts were equally out of place in St. Mary’s, West Virginia.

The broader one noticed me first. His smile vanished and his posture stiffened. He locked his wrists behind his back and nodded. The short sleeves of his shirt nipped his biceps. The ridiculous breadth of his chest

tested the limits of the thin black material. His clothes probably hid the grotesquely oversculpted figure of a body builder.

My feet slowed instinctively, weighing the merits of crossing the street to avoid them. Crossing meant moving away from my destination, staying meant eventually sharing a three-foot patch of cement with two guys already filling every spare inch.

The leaner, younger-looking one turned his face toward me. Black ink crawled up his neck from the collar of his shirt to his earlobe. A scar pierced one eyebrow and a thin silver hoop graced the corner of his mouth.

Dad wouldn’t approve.

I rounded my shoulders, withdrawing into my hoodie and averting my eyes.

The broad one whipped a hand out as I stepped onto their patch of cement. “Miss.”

I jumped back, wrapping my fingertips around the strap of my bag.

His enormous arm blocked my path. He clenched a mass of silk flowers in his fist. “For the lady.”

“Uh.” I pulled in a shallow breath. “No thank you.”

The younger one’s eyebrows dove together. “I think you’re scaring her.” His dark eyes settled on mine. His voice was deep and low. “Is he scaring you?”

The big guy handed the flowers to his friend and stepped back, palms up.

The younger one offered them to me, extending his arm slowly as if being careful not to frighten a wild animal. “I’m Cross. This is Anton. Anton thinks he’s a magician.”

I glanced over one shoulder at the church behind me before accepting the strange offer. A lifetime of forced manners pushed my name from my mouth. “Mercy.”

Cross’s lips twitched. “He’s a lot to take in, but he’s a marshmallow.”

I bit back an awkward smile as Anton protested the remark with a shove. “Mercy’s my name. It wasn’t an exclamation.”

Cross relaxed his posture. “Good to know.” He shoved his fingers into his pockets. “Do you live here?”

“Yeah.” A measure of unexplained confidence wound through me. “Not you, though.” I scrutinized their strange ensembles again. Their clothes were almost like costumes, or what I imagined a mortician would wear in the nineteen hundreds. “What are you doing here?” I sidestepped them, exchanging my view of the distant willows for a view of the church.

The low tenor of their voices collided as Cross said, “Visiting,” and Anton said, “Performing.”

Cross narrowed his eyes at Anton.

Interesting. A sign tucked into the corner of the honky-tonk’s window announced another round of live bands. Cash prizes and a guaranteed Nashville record executive in the audience meant lots of newcomers to St. Mary’s. Maybe these two were country singers. “Performing what?”

Again with the twin speak, Cross answered, “Nothing.”

Anton answered, “Everything.”

I frowned. “Well, that’s cleared up.” I waved the bouquet. “Thanks for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome,” they answered.

Dad’s face appeared in the church window, and I darted into the rain. “I have to go.”

I stuffed the flowers into my bag as I jogged away from the street of shops, closing the space between the willows and me. Thunder cracked in the distance. The storm was passing for now. I stepped into the pavilion outside St. Mary’s Cemetery with a sigh of relief. Willow trees lined our small town along the river’s west edge. Their craggy branches swept the earth with every gust of wind. The town cemetery stretched fingers of marble graves into the distance, marking lives lost in the mid-eighteen hundreds beside others lost in my lifetime. Two of those graves marked the lives of Porter women, Faith and Mary Porter. My older sister and my mother.

When the drops thinned to sprinkles, I made my way up muddy paths to their grave sites, sliding down as often as I moved forward. Dad said he’d chosen the spots at the top of the hill so Faith and Mom could look over our town. If they truly had a view, theirs was perfect.

The sopping earth squished under my weight as I left the path. A week of relentless rain had ruined the dirt roads and flooded the lowlands mercilessly.

I knelt before the headstones. “Hi. I bet you didn’t think I’d come in the storm.” Tears burned my eyes. I’d come selfishly. “You’re the only one I can talk to.”

I rubbed my wrist over each eye. “I am so amazingly sorry.”

Wind beat against the trees, shaking limbs and freeing wads of green leaves from their branches. “The storm’s gathering again.”

I wiped pine needles and dirt off Faith’s name. Wind tossed sticks and tiny American flags across the thick green grass. A batch of grave flowers rolled down the hill toward the river, reminding me of the ones in my bag.

“I have something today.” I unlatched my bag and pulled out the silk flowers. “Some very weird guys outside Red’s gave these to me. I think you should have them, Faith. I don’t bring you flowers enough. Maybe that’s why I ran into those two. You needed flowers.” I stabbed their plastic stems into the mushy ground and pressed the grass tight around them, anchoring them the best I could.

“I miss you. I wish you knew how much. Dad’s still trying to save the town. Pru’s still pretending she’s like everyone else. The color guard’s coming over for popcorn and movies.” I rolled my eyes. “I think she’s planning to sneak out tonight, and I don’t even know if it’s the first time.”

I settled in the wet grass and tilted my face to the sky. “I’ve never minded our summer storms. Remember when we used to dance in the rain until Dad begged us all inside? He’d laugh and say,” I mocked Dad’s deeper voice, “‘I guess the rumors are true. My girls don’t have the sense to come in out of the rain.’”

A sound in the distance caught my attention. A rhythm. “Do you hear that?” Wind whipped through the trees, but the eerie sound of tinny pipes and organs floated to my ears. I rubbed my palms over gooseflesh-covered arms and an icy shiver slid down my spine.

I stood on wobbly knees and moved to the hill’s edge.

A line of black vehicles crawled along the river toward the campground. Each truck was marked with the symbol that once haunted my dreams. A fancy letter L, circled in curlicue lines and tiny words from another language. “The Lovell Traveling Sideshow came back?”

After three years, it was back.

I turned to my sister. “I bet they came for the River Festival. What should I do?”

I sensed her presence and felt her voice in the wind, obscured by the ringing in my ears. My weary conscience screamed, “Leave it alone,” but my every curious fiber disagreed.

I’d researched, cyberstalked, and obsessed over the Lovells off and on for two years before I backed off. I squinted at the caravan of trucks below. If one of them knew what happened to Faith, I needed to hear it. Maybe someone at their campsite could help me.

Dad refused me the courtesy of knowing what happened to my sister. When I’d followed him through our home begging, he’d said I was too young. Faith was too young. I should pray for peace. I’d scoured the local paper and Internet for information. Three years later, the only things I knew for sure were Faith was dead and Dad blamed the Lovells. I’d heard him and Mom after Faith’s funeral. He hated them, but it didn’t make any sense. Faith drowned. Dad believed the Lovells contributed to Faith’s death somehow, despite the coroner’s accidental drowning conclusion.

I looked over one shoulder at Faith’s headstone. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back.” I rubbed wet palms against my jeans. My feet stumbled through the grass on autopilot. This was my chance.

I sprinted toward home, formulating a plan. First, I needed a shower and change of clothes. Next, I needed a picture of Faith from that summer. The Lovells probably saw thousands of new faces every year and three years had already passed. Expecting them to remember one girl from a town as unremarkable as ours was asking the impossible.

I slowed my pace on Main Street. Outside the honky-tonk, a fresh banner hung from the awning, a photo advertisement for the Lovell Traveling Sideshow. My mouth dropped open as my gaze swept over the ad. I missed the curb and planted one foot in ankle-deep runoff racing for the gutter. “Gross.” My palms hit the sidewalk, stopping me from a complete fall. The open flap of my bag dripped against my pant leg when I stood. I buckled the bag without looking, unable to drag my focus away from the banner. A woman covered in tattoos posed with a set of acrobats front and center. A shirtless strongman with a mask and endless muscles stood behind her. I tried to match Anton and his flowers to the masked man in the photograph. Was it possible?

A man in tuxedo tails pulled fire from his hat and a woman in a ball gown swallowed swords. Animals in black tutus and studded collars pranced at her feet. Behind the others stood a brown-eyed guy with neck ink, a guitar, and a frown. Cross was a performer all right. He was one of them. A Lovell.

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