Note: If you think you saw this earlier, it’s because instead of editing a copy of the post for a future scheduled post, I edited the original. Because I failed at blogging today. lol
Anyway, I’m bringing back the old Teaser Tuesday series to spotlight on the things in progress, things already released, and maybe just things. Who knows? Brienne has survived the final editing pass without me loathing it, so I call it a win! It’s still a short novel, at just under 54K words, but slightly longer than Shoba which was in the murky “too long to be a novella but almost too short to be a novel” zone.
I’ve included the cover because I think it’s pretty and want everyone else to see it, too. The blurb is now live on the page (see the Books tab above). I hate that I lost the first post of this because I have no clue what I wrote.
This snippet is from Chapter Two. After a disastrous sparring match with her brother, Brienne retreats to her haven – the stony cliffs by the Tyelann Sea. The Rifaniir stranger who intrigues her wolf, Xaeth, finds here there and offers comfort and a new perspective on her problems.
Again, sorry if you get two notifications of this post, but the first got eaten by a ‘Tweener.
“Nearly a dozen of our strongest warriors lost to the adders’ fangs and the elders’ machinations,” she said. “Papa, Rory, and so many others. Why? Pack is supposed to be family.”
“No one realized what was happening?” He stroked her hair gently, the soft trills she’d heard before a constant soothing song.
“One did.” She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. He smelled wonderful. The clean cedar and spice of him softened by that hint of lemongrass. She wanted to bury her nose in his neck and drink him in. “But the elders weren’t stupid. They made sure no one would listen to her.”
“Are they out of your reach?” he asked. At her nod, he continued. “Your people, like the Rifaniir, are predators. These elders were responsible for the deaths of your family and friends, and your wolf needs vengeance it can’t have.”
“I know all this. So why can’t I regain control?”
“You know, but have you let yourself feel? Have you raged and fought and howled your grief, or have you stuffed it into a neat little cage and called it peace? Worry about control and peace after you’ve vented your fury.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t or I really will go mad.”
“Trust me, siren.” He tugged lightly on her braid until she looked up at him. “You’re stronger than you believe. You won’t go mad. You’ll become who you were meant to be.”
Wolves of Sorrow: Brienne, Spring 2022