Raven Storm by Emma Miles - Book Blitz
Raven Storm
Fear walks with those in power.
Divided, the land of Chem hangs in the balance. In the west the
Ravens seek to bring safety to women, and an end to slavery. In the east the
remaining covens cling to their power, refusing to give up their way of life to
foreign invaders. Across both lands the priests whisper and plot, their gods a
shadowy threat hanging over them all.
To protect their young family, Kesta and Jorrun have made their home in the
Raven Tower of Elden. Unable to abandon their responsibility or friends, they
remain embroiled in the fight to the north. Whilst peace and friendship blossom
between the Fulmers, Borrows and Elden, the arrival of strangers turns the
court of Taurmaline upside down.
The history of the Fire-walkers is about to catch up with them,
and the Fire-spirit’s truth will be revealed.
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Excerpt
In this extract the Raven Scouts Catya and
Cassien are making their way back from a mission with urgent news.
Catya
plaited back her hair again and smeared ashes across her cheeks and around her
eyes in Borrow raider fashion, masking her pale skin and making the round shape
of her face less obvious. Cassien had changed into a green tunic, its hood up,
although it didn’t hide his disapproving looks. He hated that she loved the
culture of the Borrows best of all the lands she’d apprenticed in. Not surprisingly,
he favoured the Fulmers.
‘Thirty-seven,’ he whispered. ‘But there’s no way of knowing
how many are inside the buildings.’
Catya gave a distracted nod, her eyes following the men
below. ‘I concur. They obviously don’t expect us to attack anytime soon, it
would only take a small force to wipe out that post, a couple of magic wielders
could do it.’
‘It’s not the way the Ravens work.’
‘Precisely.’ She jabbed him in the arm with one finger. ‘It’s
time we changed how we work. Osun’s plan may have gained us a foothold and
taken the west, but the same thing won’t work anymore.’ She had to refrain from
rolling her eyes when she saw his jaw tighten; Cassien couldn’t bear for anyone
to criticise his hero, Osun.
He crawled back a little way. ‘Come on, we should get into
position to cross.’
Catya lingered a moment longer, watching as the Chemman
guards sauntered about the village they’d commandeered. Her nostrils flared a
little, her heart beating strongly. She would have loved to go down there and
take out as many as possible, just to test herself. She wondered how many she
could get on her own before being discovered.
‘Cat!’ Cassien hissed.
With a huff, she edged back and followed him to where they’d
left the horses.
It was pitch-black when they reached the point they’d chosen
to make their crossing. A long, narrow copse ran along the path of a stream
that fed into the wider river. They’d already stowed their gear carefully to
avoid losing it in the wild water.
The horses weren’t going to like it.
They edged them into the stream where the bank was shallow,
and Catya winced at the splashing they made. Her horse snorted as the water
deepened and tugged at the reins.
‘It’s okay.’ She leaned forward, rubbing its neck.
She urged it towards the water, and it blew out air loudly as
they hit the current of the faster river, its eyes rolling as its hooves found
only water instead of ground.
‘Go on, it’s not far,’ Catya reassured it, shifting her
position in the saddle to help it swim more easily. There was a loud splash as
Cassien’s horse followed. They were out in the open now and she peered at the
bank ahead, before twisting to watch behind them. Cassien’s eyes were bright,
almost the same colour as the moon that caught in them. She gritted her teeth
and turned back to the far shore, pushing aside any weak sentimentality. Caring
about people was how you got hurt, it made you vulnerable, just as Osun’s death
had weakened Cass; and Jorrun.
Her horse’s hooves touched ground and it surged forward, its
muscles bunching beneath her. She didn’t wait for Cassien but headed straight
for cover.
Something moved. The glint of metal.
She threw herself from the saddle as an arrow came whining
out of the trees, rolling as she hit the ground and coming up onto her feet in
a crouch with one of her daggers drawn. Her horse gave a scream and thundered
away into the darkness. Cassien’s horse followed; without a rider.
Author Bio
– I often get asked when I knew I was
a writer; the answer is always. A writer is what I am, it's in my soul. There
have been times in my life when I couldn't write, and times when my writing has
been the only thing that kept me going. I think I always longed for something
deeper from life, something more meaningful, and I found it in my imagination
and in the music of words.
It was poetry which first caught my attention,
and whilst my younger cousins called for ghost stories it was animals I first
wrote of. I think I gravitated toward fantasy because of the freedom it gives,
I could create my own worlds and decide my own rules. My Wind's Children
trilogy was born from an image that came to me whilst daydreaming, of a young
man sitting alone below a bridge. I didn't know who he was; it turns out
neither did he, but we found out together.
I'm now working on my seventh book and love
writing more than ever, it's an addiction, an obsession, but one I now share
with my wonderful writing family. My beta readers, my editor, and you, my
readers, having you with me on my journey means the world to me.
I write as much as I can around work, but I also
try to squeeze in a ridiculous amount of hobbies! I'm a wildlife photographer
and do a little archery. I paint, sculpt with clay, withies and driftwood,
preferring to be outdoors if I can. I still have a love for the theatre, having
started out in life studying backstage crafts, and a great love for language. I
speak a little French, Romanian and Italian, ma non molto bene!
Thanks for reading this. If you read any of my
books and love them, please come say hello and tell me, you'd be surprised at
how much that means to an author.
Take care of yourself.
Em x
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