Tuesday, December 3, 2019

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Inheritance by Gail Z. Martin - Book Tour + Giveaway



Inheritance

Deadly Curiosities Series

Book Four

Gail Z. Martin

Genre: Urban fantasy

Publisher: SOL Publishing


Date of Publication: October 23, 2019

ISBN: 978-1939704986
ASIN:B07ZHKR2LD

Number of pages: 222
Word Count: 66000

Cover Artist: Lou Harper


Tagline: Can Cassidy and her friends find the demon box, stop the killer ghosts,
and break the Pendlewood curse before Beckford’s murderous cousins and the
vengeful demon destroy them all?

Book Description:


Book four in the Deadly
Curiosities series.Cassidy Kincaide runs Trifles & Folly in modern-day
Charleston, an antiques and curio shop with a dangerous secret. Cassidy can
read the history of objects by touching them, and she teams up with friends and
allies who use magic and paranormal abilities to get rid of cursed objects and
keep Charleston and the world safe from supernatural threats.


Caribbean ghosts terrorize
Charleston and start racking up a body count. Then Beckford Pendlewood, the
heir to a powerful family of dark warlocks, shows up raving about a bound demon
locked in a lost box and begs sanctuary. Can Cassidy and her friends find the
demon box, stop the killer ghosts, and break the Pendlewood curse before
Beckford’s murderous cousins and the vengeful demon destroy them all?

Kindle      Paperback      Kobo      Nook



Excerpt 2 Chapter 1 – 623 words


“It’s a
‘sailor’s valentine,’” I said, recognizing the style. I leaned closer, careful
not to touch. While the idea of an intricate design crafted from shells sounded
like a kitschy souvenir, antique sailor’s valentines could be true works of
folk art and fetch thousands of dollars. This one was particularly well done,
with a floral rose inside a nautical wind rose, enclosed in a detailed
decorative border, and all of it painstakingly pieced together from
naturally-colored seashells.

“We can
authenticate the original ownership,” Alfred asserted, probably hoping to
regain my professional respect. “It’s old—the date on the back says 1845, and
the appraiser confirmed that the materials are consistent with that period. The
writing next to the date reads, ‘To my darling Millicent, undying love from
Joseph.’”

“Do you have any
idea who Joseph and Millicent were?”

“Unfortunately,
no,” Alfred admitted. “The representative said that it had been given by a
sailor to his fiancée when he returned to port.” He cleared his throat.
“Unfortunately, it was a parting gift, because the sailor had already married
someone else. After that, the piece passed through various hands until it was
acquired a few decades later by the family of the late owner.”

I walked around
the piece, which was secured on an easel. The mahogany frame appeared to be in
good shape, and despite the age of the piece, the shells had not discolored or
come loose from their glue, and the glass had no chips or breaks. The shell
work itself was a wonder, using a variety of types—common cockles, beaded
periwinkles, baby’s ears, bubbles, jingles, and more—in an array of colors and
sizes. I could understand why it could catch someone’s eye.

Assuming they
couldn’t feel the psychic reek of malevolent energy that made me recoil. If it
has that much resonance when I’m a foot away, I really don’t want to know how
it feels to pick it up.

When an item
gave off vibes that were that strong, I could usually get a read without having
to touch it. I closed my eyes, aware that Alfred was watching, and reached out
with my psychometry, stretching my gift toward the piece but not getting any
closer than necessary.

Hatred and
vengefulness hit me like a punch to the face. After all this time, the
resonance was so powerful that I caught my breath and took a defensive step
back. I saw everything, like a movie in fast-forward. Millicent’s happiness
that her beloved had returned from the sea, and her delight in the beautiful
gift. Joseph’s admission of betrayal. Her shock, turning to grief and then
cooling into anger. A heated argument, and the swing of a candlestick in rage,
leaving Joseph in a pool of blood. Fear, remorse, loss, and guilt, and then a
knife blade that Millicent used to open veins and let herself die beside her
faithless lover.

The vision ended
as abruptly as it had begun, leaving me breathless. I might have spared some
sympathy for Millicent, despite her reaction, if I didn’t feel the temperature
drop and know from the prickle on my skin that Millicent’s spirit still clung
to the tragic gift.

“Get back!” I
reached into the pocket of my jacket and grabbed a handful of the loose salt I
kept there for situations just like this. As Millicent’s spirit began to take
shape and the air around us grew freezing cold, I hurled a handful of salt at
her ghostly outline, making her flicker and vanish.

“Run!” I grabbed
Alfred by the arm and dragged him with me as I sprinted toward the storage room
door. I’d disrupted Millicent’s manifestation, but it wouldn’t take a spirit
that strong long to regroup.



About the Author:


Gail Z. Martin writes epic
fantasy, urban fantasy and steampunk for Solaris Books, Orbit Books, SOL
Publishing, Darkwind Press, Worldbuilders Press and Falstaff Books. Recent
books include Reckoning, Sellsword’s Oath, Inheritance, CHARON, Wasteland Marshals.
As Morgan Brice, she writes urban fantasy MM paranormal romance including the
Witchbane, Badlands and Treasure Trail series. Recent books include The Rising,
Flame and Ash. Find her at






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