I absolutely LOVED Grave Mercy by Robin LaFevers, so I am very excited to be part of the blog tour for the second book in the series, Dark Triumph. In addition to an exciting excerpt, I have two great contests - one is just for my tour stop, while the other is shared across all the tour stops.
Sybella arrives at the convent’s doorstep half mad with
grief and despair. Those that serve Death are only too happy to offer her
refuge—but at a price. Naturally skilled in both the arts of death and
seduction, the convent views Sybella as one of their most dangerous weapons.
But those assassin’s skills are little comfort when the
convent returns her to a life that nearly drove her mad. Her father’s rage and
brutality are terrifying, and her brother’s love is equally monstrous. And
while Sybella is a weapon of justice wrought by the god of Death himself, He
must give her a reason to live. When she discovers an unexpected ally
imprisoned in the dungeons, will a daughter of Death find something other than
vengeance to live for?
This heart-pounding sequel to Grave Mercy serves betrayal,
treachery, and danger in equal measure, bringing readers back to fifteenth
century Brittany and will keep them on the edge of their seats.
About Robin:
Robin LaFevers was raised on a steady diet of fairy tales,
Bulfinch’s mythology, and 19th century poetry. It
is not surprising she grew up
to be a hopeless romantic.
Though she has never trained as an assassin or joined a
convent, she did attend Catholic school for three years, which instilled in her
a deep fascination with sacred rituals and the concept of the Divine. She has
been on a search for answers to life’s mysteries ever since.
While many of those answers still elude her, she was lucky
enough to find her one true love, and is living happily ever after with him in
the foothills of southern California.
In addition to writing about teen assassin nuns in medieval
Brittany, she writes books for middle grade readers, including the Theodosia
books and the Nathaniel Fludd, Beastologist series. You can learn more about
those books at www.rllafevers.com.
The gardens are
deserted, since no one else is fool enough to venture out to this raw, barren
spot. I take a slow breath and revel in the solitude. I am forever attended by
someone — my ladies in waiting, my brothers, the various hangers-on of my
father’s court — and I crave solitude. That and freedom. I glance overhead and
try to recapture that soaring feeling I had when my falcon launched from my
wrist, but I cannot.
Instead, an irritable caw brings me back to
earth as Monsieur Crow lands on a branch before me, then cocks his head, as if
wondering why I have taken so long.
“You’re a fine one to talk,” I scold him, but
he knows I do not mean it and hops close. As I move toward the branch, I see
that the note is wrapped tightly around his ankle and covered with black wax so
that someone would have to be very close in order to see he bore a message.
I slip my knife from its sheath, and the bird
gives a caw of objection. “I have no other way to get it off, you silly
creature.” A quick snip and a slice, then wax crumbles and I am able to unwind
the note from his leg. As I shove it into the knife sheath at my wrist, the
crow looks to me for a reward. “I have nothing for you today — I am sorry. Now
go. Quickly! Before you get us both killed.” I flap my hands at him and he hops
but one bush away. “Hsst!” I say, and with a caw of reproach, he launches into
the sky and disappears over the castle wall.
“Talking to the crows, my lady?”
Bertrand de Lur’s
deep voice nearly causes me to jump. Instead, I use the startled movement to
swing gracefully around and face him.
“That will earn you a reputation of
witchcraft,” he says.
I tilt my head and smile mockingly at him. “Do
they not say that already?”
He inclines his head,
conceding the point. “Even so, it is not safe for you to be out here alone, my
lady.” While his voice is rich and cultivated, there is something about the way
he says my lady that makes the words feel like a slur. Or perhaps it just seems
that way because his lust is so thick it reaches out and enfolds me like a
mantle. How long has he felt this way?
“Where are your attendants?” he asks, his
voice hard.
Even though I do not care for Jamette, I
cannot surrender her to the threat I see lurking in his eyes. “I ordered them
from my side. I have a headache and wanted fresh air.”
He glances around at the secluded section of
garden, his eyes missing nothing. “I would think my lady’s beauty would attract
a nightingale or a linnet, not a bedraggled crow.” He steps closer then, and
for the first time I grow wary. Does he think me such damaged goods that he can
take liberties without fear of reprisal from my father?
“It is not safe to be alone out here, not with
all the men-at-arms we have posted. Any one of them might come upon you and be
moved to take advantage of your unattended solitude.” He takes another step
toward me.
Because I want to back away from him, I force
myself to move forward until there is but a
handbreadth between us. I gaze steadily into eyes. “Do you really think
any of the men would be so foolish as to risk my father’s wrath in such a way?
Surely they would not wish to see their guts strung up from the castle walls?”
There is a long moment of silence, then
finally he nods. “Your point is well taken. Come, I am to escort you to your
lord father.”
Contest #1 - A paperback of Grave Mercy and a hardcover of Dark Triumph. This contest is exclusive to my tour stop. US/Canada only.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Contest #2 - a prize back from the author. US only.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Contest #2 - a prize back from the author. US only.
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