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Seventh Born by Rachel Rossano - Book Tour + Giveaway

By 7:00 AM , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

In a world where seventh born sons are valued for their strength and power, she is born a daughter.

Zezilia Ilar is the disappointment. Born after six brothers, she was supposed to be the son to restore her family’s prestige. She intends to remedy her shortcomings by being a dutiful daughter, marrying well and producing children, preferably a set of seven sons. But when someone offers her an alternative, she begins to dream of more.

In a society that worships a goddess, he follows the Almighty.

Hadrian Aleron, as a seventh son of a seventh son, stands to take up the second highest position in government, Sept Son. His main qualification for office is his birth. Despite preparing for this role from childhood, he does not desire what is to come. As a follower of the Almighty, he knows he will be the target of many, and his faith might eventually lead to death.

Rachel Rossano lives with her husband and three children in the northeastern part of the United States. Homeschooled through high school, she began writing her early teens. She didn’t become serious about pursuing a career as an author until after she had graduated from college and happily married. Then the children came.

Now she spends her days being a wife, mother, teacher, and household manager. Her evenings and free moments are devoted to her other loves, writing and book cover design. Drawing on a lifelong fascination with reading and history, she spends hours creating historical feeling fantasy worlds and populating them with characters who live and breathe on the page. 

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Top Ten List
10 Interesting Things about Rachel Rossano

1 – I have three children that equally challenge, frustrate, and delight me every day.
2 – Almost twenty years ago, I married my best friend, and I have never regretted the decision for a moment.
3 – My parents are exactly a foot apart in height, and my husband and I are exactly a foot apart in height.
4 – I have no lenses in my eyes. I developed cataracts when I was very young and had the lenses in my eyes removed so I could see.
5 – Since childhood, I have not liked the texture of meat. Because of this, I have been a vegetarian since I was allowed to prepare my own food.
6 – I started publishing my books because I feared I would never have children. Now, I am homeschooling three children and fitting my writing and publishing around their educational needs. I’ve wondered more than once if the Lord did that so that I would continue to write. Otherwise, I might’ve waited until they were all raised and grown.
7 – I have naturally curly hair that refuses to stay straight or in place.
8 – My kids are some of my biggest fans despite the fact they have read none of my books.
9 – I post silly stories on FB about the things my kids say and do, not because I want everyone to be impressed with them, but so I will remember them later.
10 – My first crush was on Spock from Star Trek. So, when my husband comments that I am part Vulcan (meaning highly analytical and logical), I consider it quite the complement.

Character Casting
I see Gal Gadot playing my heroine. Zezilia Ilar is tall and athletic in build. She carries herself well, with an elegance to her stride and demeanor thanks to the watchful guidance of her strong-willed mother. However, she has a playful, active side which stems from growing up with six older brothers. Not inclined toward the more feminine duties of housework and cooking, she tends to enjoy the outdoors, nature, and activity. Even though this is her desire, she still takes to studying easily and proves herself to be quite and eager learner as she learns to master her new found talents in sending (telepathy) and mass moving (telekinesis) abilities.

My hero could easily be played by Luke Evans. Hadrian Aleron is an intense young man of purpose. He tends toward kindness when not distracted by weighty concerns. As a youngest son groomed from young age for public office, he doesn’t have all the usual self-preservation skills of his elder brothers, but he makes up for that by being very proficient at his job, which is overseeing and supporting all the talent users in the peninsular nation of Pratinus.

I was the disappointment. On the day of my birth, my mother cried for I was not a son. The son they hoped, prayed, and sacrificed for, the seventh son who would become the Sept Son. He would have taken the highest position under the High King and restored the glory of the Ilars. I knew the story as if I had been there from before my conception. Father retold he tale of my family it every year on the anniversary of my birth.
I resolved this year would be different. The shame, the disgrace, and the pain in my father’s eyes might fade if I proved useful. A woman of marriageable age could advance the family by way of a profitable match. Marriage, the only way for a woman could please the goddess. I cringed.
Glancing around the tablium, the living area of the main house, I found myself alone, which was just as well. Mother lectured a servant in the next room. My father and most of my brothers had long since scattered about the house and grounds pursuing their own interests. I was supposed to be practicing my music, but I couldn’t keep my mind on my task.
Outside the open glass doors of our main house, the depths of gardens beckoned. I harkened their call. Behind me, two of my six brothers argued loudly over who would take first in the foot race tomorrow. As their voices rose the call of the quiet appealed to me all the more. Finally I could resist no longer. Slipping through the doors, I reached the first turn of the path before they noticed my departure.
Heavy blossoms of deep red and orange bobbed in the breeze as if ushering me into the cool depths of the gardens. The broad, deep green leaves of the organza ferns reached out to brush my face and hair, tracing dew trails over my clothing. I slipped deeper into the wild heart of the garden, down where the tamed groves gave way to the chaos of nature. The border was unmanned, but clearly marked by a vast bramble of brandleberry bushes. Unfortunately, their crimson fruit reminded me of my neglected duties.
It was a year of six, an extra day of feasting and dancing to celebrate the goddess and her bounty to us. Only here, deep in the gardens, I could find peace from the bustle of preparation for the week ahead. Why did it have to be a long year this year, the annum of my presentation? I hated that I was born on the first day of the high week. It brought extra attention when all I wished to do was hide.
“Child, curb your thoughts.”
I jumped at the sudden voice, rough and raspy. Turning around in my small haven, I beheld the strangest sight. A short man, only slightly above my height, stood in the midst of the brandleberries. Red hair stood out in a riot of frizz about his balding brown head. I say brown for his face was deeper than the sun-bronzed skin of my father and brothers.
“I sensed your thoughts jumbling about. They made my insides twist about half a mile away. Whatever could be wrong to cause such distress?” he asked, his strange green eyes assessing my face.
“You heard my thoughts?” I asked. I was stunned. Being a female, I was not to have the ability to project and the situation he was describing was a strong projection. None of my brothers could send that distance.
“Not coherently, or I wouldn’t be asking you these questions, girl. You obviously have no training. Without training, all I could pick up were your emotions and snatches of ideas. Now tell me, what is getting you into such a state?”
I regarded him in silence. He was a perfect stranger. I was not about to dump all my trials and woes upon him, no matter how he demanded it.
“But we are not introduced,” I protested finally. “I am not allowed to speak to men to whom I have not been introduced.”
The man scoffed. “You are talking to me already, girl. It is a little late to start pulling proper behavior on me now.” Despite his scorn, he waded through the bushes as though they had no briars. Gaining the cleared ground, he brushed off his rough linen robes and executed a precise bow. “Errol Silas at you service, Donellea. May I inquire as to your name?”
“Zezilia Ilar.” I curtseyed as I ought.
His eyes widened suddenly. “Ah, that explains it.”
My stomach sank. Now he would go on about how sad it was that I wasn’t born a male. All of father’s friends did, as if I didn’t wish reality to be different every day. Sure, my family didn’t mention it daily, but I would see it frequently enough in their expressions.
“You are Ostin Ilar’s daughter.” His strange gaze seemed to bore into my eyes. “Has anyone else heard your thoughts before, Donellea Ilar? Your brothers or parents?”
I frowned. “No, Master Silas, I am a female and incapable of projecting.”
At this he laughed. “You incapable? Ha. I have never encountered so much raw projecting talent in anyone. No, just a minute,” he said, raising a rough hand. “I have encountered one.” He looked at me as if considering whether or not I needed a haircut or a certain piece of clothing would suit me. “Yes, it is possible. Given time.” Then suddenly he grinned, giving me a fantastic view of strong, white teeth. “You are going to be my new pupil.”

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