Oliver, Chloe and Tristan, drop by to tell us if there will be another book in the Seven Spell stories



Chloe:
Thank you for inviting us to the blog today. We know there’s been a number of people asking if another story will be published and some want the books in print too.
Thank you all for dropping by.
Tell us first what are you up to now the Seven Spell stories series seems to have ended.
Oliver:
I’m still working on my business, computer stuff, I network and administrate for small businesses, but I do a lot of web design now too. I work with Bartholomew sometimes. (smiles)
Tristan:
I’m still helping to run the estate with Liz and Laura. Jack’s retired completely. I do some work with animals too. You know how I love them. I help out in the shop. I guess you remember we’re taking care of that since Eddie went off with Dale to her kingdom. That sounds so weird, (smiles) but then it is huh?
Chloe:
I’m still designing stained glass, I help in the shop, I run healing workshops with Bartholomew. I help Liz with events. Same stuff.
You’re obviously not telling us about any of the magical stuff. Is there still any?
Tristan: You mean at the waterfall. I reckon so, but I don’t think the portal is open. We get nothing from Dale. Well…not as far as I know. (Looks at the others)
Oliver: I don’t know if I should say this, but…Bartholomew has some secretive stuff go on there. I think the portal is open. I’ve not seen any sign of time travelers but… (grins and looks at Chloe)
Chloe:
It wouldn’t surprise me to find Bartholomew is keeping a secret. Not to be mean, but because we’d had enough of the portal by the time it caved in, or whatever. There’s something going on though. You can feel it down there. I was out walking with Liz and Charlie last week. You know how he loves to wander into the water’s edge, well, he got onto the thick reeds there and without Liz having to call him, he leapt off with his tail down and ran to us.
Tristan:
(Looks concerned and turns to her.)
You never told me that. Did she tell you, Oliver? (Oliver shakes head)
Be careful. Don’t go there again until I’ve talked with Bartholomew or McPherson. Please.
Have you felt anything, Oliver? I haven’t but then I’ve not been down there much recently.
(Oliver shakes head again.)
Chloe: (grinning)
Stop fussing. Okay.
(Oliver gets up and walks around Tristan to sit closer to Chloe.)
Where are you all living, because the last time Chloe was here she said you might all three live in Hawthorns?
Oliver: We come and go from the place. I still live in my place. Tristan lives In Hawthorns.
Tristan: I do.
Chloe: I have my room at the hunting lodge, but I hang out with Oliver or Tristan lots of the time. We don’t talk about that much. Mom is still wondering what happened to Oliver and me being engaged. The thing is and you might as well know it, we’re all adults, Tristan is hundreds of years old, Oliver should be twenty four, and I should be twenty three, we’re not normal so how we live is no one’s business. (looks fierce)
What happened to that idea of opening a detective agency and using your powers to help people?
Tristan:
We do help people, but it’s covert.
Oliver:
Yes, because it has to be, although we have a website for that side of things.
Chloe:
I’m opening a small office. We’ve been secretly doing things. You must know we can’t draw attention to things.
Things?
Oliver:
Healing, finding things out etc.
So your lives are still on the weird side then?
Tristan:
Chock full of magic, and weirdness. (laughs)
Can you tell us about the love story angle?
Chloe:
No. It’s the same.
Do you think the author will find that hard to write about if she writes more of your story?
Chloe:
I don’t know. Maybe. A few readers are a little scandalized that I love both Oliver and Tristan. Maybe she’ll leave that side of the story out. I'm in love with them both and we just get on with it. I'm not choosing, we tried that in an alternative plot line and it was dangerous and horrible.
Oliver:
I bet she doesn’t, after all that’s been one of the major story arcs and themes. What do you think Tristan?
Tristan:
It won’t be the same if she does leave it out.
Chloe, I notice you’re wearing the ring Oliver gave you and the ring Tristan gave you.
Oliver: (holding up his hand)
We all wear each other’s ring.
(Tristan holds up his hand to show me a ring)
So where did they come from guys?
They all three stare at me for a few seconds, maybe I’ve grown another head, now they look at each other and shrug.
Oliver: (grinning)
The place under the house still exists. We still find stuff in the water sometimes.
Tristan gives him a shove.
Oliver, we still have loads of treasure from my father.
(Oliver grins)
So there’s still something going on then? Portal wise. I thought that one was degraded by Aristide.
Chloe:
It is. Oliver’s just teasing aren’t you? (looks at him)
Oliver:
Yeah, sorry.
(They all look innocent. I’m not fooled.) Will there be another story? The author said in a magazine interview a few weeks ago that she thought there might be a year ago, but now thinks probably not.
Tristan:
We’ve not met up with her recently. There might be another story when we do all get together. She’s coming over to stay at Hawthorns in April. You know what she’s like. She’ll get it out of us if there’s a story to tell.
And is there? You three look very suspicious right now.
Oliver: (sighs)
There’s a couple of things.
Tristan: Don’t ask.
Chloe: I’m not saying anything. We should go now though. McPherson invited us to dinner.
Will you leave us with an excerpt from the last book?
Tristan:
I'll choose one, (grins) it's me talking.
Okay, but I just thought of a question I meant to ask the author.
Will the story telling change? Will the voices go away and the diary/report style change? Chloe and Tristan shrug. Oliver nods.
Oliver:
I know the answer. Yes it will. It'll be a narrative. No diary style at all so someone else will tell the story.
Thank you for chatting to me. I can’t help feeling you three are still up to something. Bye for now.
They all smile, say bye and leave. Oliver looks back at me and smiles again. They have secrets for sure.
Tristan's choice of excerpt


Chapter Nineteen

Tristan and Bartholomew

I couldn’t sleep. I went over to the stables and saddled Matin. It had been a month since I had ridden him. Brett one of the grooms had taken a liking to the horse and usually rode him. Matin was pleased to see me and we trotted out of the stable yard and over the field towards the abbey ruins.



I let him run on the grass alongside the road until we stopped and crossed over. The terrain around the abbey is grassy interspaced with garden and ruined bits at ground level as well as the substantial ruins. I let him set his own pace. A horse like Matin knows what he’s doing. We started to walk peacefully through the wooded area and then past the ancient church and the Norman ruins. Matin knows things and he knows that he used to live here when they were not ruins. He always goes sort of quiet and treads softly. What a great animal.

  
We picked our way over the more treacherous bits of outcropped rock and down to the waterfall. Matin also knows this is where he entered the future. He goes to look at the spot. Does he want to go back to the past? I doubt it. Tonight we were softly approaching the waterfall pool, both of us silent. I was thinking how happy I was to have things sorted out with Dale. I’ll always think of her fondly and offer friendship but whatever had gripped me to think I loved her has completely gone.



Matin stopped quite suddenly at the side of the pool, and I looked up, and across it. The light is never that great and even when there is a huge moon as there was right then the tree canopy shield keeps the place quite dark. I could see a man and I knew him almost instantly. Bartholomew was standing on the other side of the pool.

  
I urged Matin on and he walked around keeping a little way from the soft bank edge.

Bartholomew looked up.

“Hi Bartholomew what are you doing down here in the dark?”

He smiled as I approached and answered as I dismounted.

“It’s the idea that there’s a portal behind the falls that’s brought me here. There must be one Tristan. Esteban wouldn’t have been able to create one. He was powerful but let’s not forget he came from a completely different world. It would be impossible for him to create one without special power. I didn’t create the portals I used. They existed in the water. I could use water in different ways but not create a time or world travel portal. You know how I am looked upon as a great wizard?” I nodded at his question thinking of Dale’s description of him. He continued, “Well I am not great enough to create a time travel portal.”

  
I took a deep breath. “You know of Aristide? Well he used the waterfall pool here and some kind of affinity I have with it to create a portal. I appear to be some kind of catalyst for magic spells.”

Bartholomew stared at me.

“I’d be surprised if we could open anything that would take us to Dale’s kingdom, unless there is a portal already. It is her kingdom you know Tristan. She was destined to be the queen.”

I could feel some emotion coming from him that I hadn’t felt before.

“Bartholomew, would you like to go home, back there to Dale’s kingdom?”

  
He sighed. “I want to be where Evangeline is and she is at home here. Sometimes I think I would like to go back and then I realize the place is not what I would want it to be. By that I mean it needs change, change I honestly don’t have the energy for, but more importantly I don’t want to take time away from being with Evangeline to do.”

  
I nodded in sympathy and understanding. Sometimes you just want peace.

“So then why are you down here Bartholomew? You’re not thinking of climbing in there?”

“Well I was actually, because the fact is Dale’s kingdom is now without a ruler. You might think that would be a good thing, but it will not be. Our world is simply magic, everything is magic, and it has to have a king or queen who has magical abilities.”

  
I checked on Matin who had wandered a little way up the path towards the ruins again. “I actually understand. If you are going to do it, check on the waterfall portal, I must go with you.”

Bartholomew shook his head.

“No Tristan I can’t ask you to do it, people here rely on you.”

I smiled. “You’re not asking Bartholomew. I’m telling you.”

He looked at me sadly. “I’m climbing in. Please don’t follow me.”



I shook my head. It just isn’t in me to let anyone do anything dangerous without I try to help. “I’m coming too,” I told him, but I got out my cell phone and left an unsent text on the screen to say what I’d done. I put that in the pocket of my jacket and tied it to Matin’s saddle. He’d go home and it would be found sooner or later.



Bartholomew watched me and then started climbing the old Norman steps, which are shored up and restored, until we could step onto the rocks within the edge of the curtain of the waterfall. Then step again and down into the area behind it. He did a good job considering he had never done it before and I wondered if he had memorized what Gaston did earlier or had actually asked her.



We stood together at the very edge of the area of vegetation behind the falls. Ferns and some kind of curled leaf plant, which even I didn’t know the name of, grew there in patches. It was eerie and yet spectacular. It was also bizarrely as light as if we were on the bank of the pool.

  
I looked at Bartholomew and he grinned saying, “Nothing to suggest a portal. No shimmering spatial deformity or anything.”

I laughed at that.

  
He had a handful of pebbles that he had taken out of his pocket and he began throwing them around. I watched closely. There was nothing going on. Not one of them seemed to disappear. He had a little penlight, which he aimed at the trajectory of each pebble as it fell. The water behind us was soothing and the moon seemed to shine through it as if it was a window. I felt at home there for some reason.

  
Bartholomew had exhausted his cache of pebbles.

He shrugged. “I suppose if there was a portal it’s now closed.”

“Bartholomew, in my experience if there was a portal open in the last few minutes the pebble thrown in it would have disappeared. It could be it’s not open right now, we’ve had one that opened at intervals, and I can’t tell you what a pain that was. The other thing is maybe it only comes one way, from there to here. Sorry but the things are capricious, and I hoped we had done with them for good when we got back with Gaston and Dale.”

  
We looked around again and Bartholomew shone his little beam of white light around again. There really seemed to be nothing going on, and I thought about Esteban being here in this space and then leaping through the waterfall into the pool. He was lucky not to get sucked into the deep pothole but then he did run out of luck later.


(Blogger lost the book format ) 
From An Ending and A Beginning


Nicole Hurley-Moore drops by with an excerpt from her #new release, 'Rain' and a #trailer, enter her #giveaway too


Rain

Nuri couldn’t sleep; the straw mattress was hard and lumpy. She had kept a candle burning, an extravagance, but she needed the dim light to stop the stark stone walls of the cell from crowding in on her. She turned and she tossed, but it was her mind that would not allow her to sleep.

Thoughts of Maras kept turning in her brain. She had seen his pale eyes warm when he looked at her, and her skin burned at his touch. He would leave her when the season changed and the storms blew over the mountain, but until then he was hers. With a sigh, she threw back the blankets and got off the narrow bed. She shivered as her feet touched the chilly stone floor of the cell. These small rooms were the guest accommodation for Farran Chapel, but they felt more like prison cells. There was one high window that was closed with a wooden shutter, the gray walls, and the floor – everything stark and hard, especially the bed.

Mayhap Erebus was right. Perhaps he could see her more clearly than she could see herself. For at that moment, she would have given nearly anything to have the courage to walk into Maras’s room. The more she thought about it, the more she came to believe she and Maras were destined to be together – not forever, but until the rain came. 

She wanted him. She wanted him to hold, kiss, and touch her. She wanted him in every way, even if it put her on the path that Erebus feared so much. Maras made her feel alive. Galfridus wanted her to marry, but she knew she would not, as no other man could measure up to her angel.

She stood next to the wall that adjoined their rooms, and placed her flattened hand against it. Her courage had failed her. What if she went to him and he turned her away?

~* * *~

This weekend I welcome author Nicole Hurley-Moore to the blog #fantasy #giveaway



Welcome Nicole thank you for visiting the blog today
Tell us a little about yourself
Hi and thanks so much for hosting me today. I’m Australian and live in a rural town in the Central Highlands of Victoria. I’ve always had a love of myths, legends, fairytales and medieval history. I write romances across several genres – historical (medieval & Victorian), fantasy and paranormal.




What book have you brought along to tell us about today?
Today I brought along my medieval fantasy, Rain.


1216 AD 
On the mountain, high above the village of Farran – Nuri is caught between heaven and hell. Two men fight for her love and her soul. The first is Maras, an elemental being who follows the storms. Nuri knows that he is not human, he’s something more. She believes he is her beautiful fallen angel. But he is transient and is bound to the elements and their love may be as fleeting as the storm itself. The second is Brother Erebus, a pious monk whose tortured soul is twisted by his desire for her.
But Nuri may sacrifice more than her heart when the Church brands her angel a demon. As Brother Erebus will do anything to protect her soul from the silver haired devil, even if he has to crush her body to do it.

Are you working on another book right now?
Yes, I’m working on a couple. The first is a medieval fairytale and the second is a Victorian era romance.

What do you enjoy most about writing?
I love being lost in a world as the story builds and flows.

What do you like the least?
When you plan to write a couple of thousand words and by the end of the day you’ve only manage a couple of hundred. Very frustrating – *grrr*

Would you like to see any of your books as movies?
Oh, yes please.

Can you name any actors you would like to see as the lead characters in your book.
Hmmm, I’m not sure.

What things do you like to do to relax?
Write, read and walk.

Do you have another job as well as writing?
No, I’m lucky enough to write full time.


If you could have one super power in your existence, what would it be?
Flying – maybe it would get me over my fear of heights.


If money were not an object, where would you most like to live?
I think I would still like to live in this area of Australia but a couple of holiday homes in Paris and Venice would be just lovely. ;)


What kind of car would you have if money was no object?
One that doesn’t break down or is nearly as old as my youngest child.

What’s your favorite food?
Italian

Favorite color?
Red.


Just answer these questions as quickly as possible.


Chocolate or vanilla?----- Vanilla

Dog or cat?---- Dog

The film or the book?----- Book

Heels or flats? Flats

Jeans or dress? Jeans

Beach or Snow resort?  Snow resort.

Flowers or chocolate?   Flowers

Bath or shower?  Shower

Do you have anything to share with other authors that might be a help? Don’t let criticism (when it’s not constructive) discourage you. Write because you love it, want and need to. Don’t give up.

Is there anything you would like to say to your readers?
Thanks so much for your support. J

Can you share one of your favorite parts of one of the books?


He hovered high above the ground as the heavy rain ran over his lithe body. As each drop hit his skin, he revelled in the exhilaration of the storm as it swirled around him. With one deft movement his gray wings sent him soaring upward, where he spun and spiralled in the damp, cold air.

There, he hovered until a small movement from below caught his pale, ice-gray eyes. His interest snared, he swooped lower and saw with amusement that a small village lay below. It sat on the side of a river, in the shadow of a great mountain. As he flew closer, he saw its inhabitants running to and fro in a vain attempt to escape from the storm. The smoke from their hearth fires, which burnt so brightly in an endeavour to warm their tiny cottages, curled in the air and wafted up to where Maras flew. In the smoke he could smell ash, herbs, and the aromas of roasted meat, yet almost immediately the rain dissipated the odour and replaced it with its own cool sweetness.

Once, long ago, Maras had been interested in these fragile beings. From afar, he had watched and studied their lives and peculiar habits. Intrigued, he had made the mistake of walking among them. Some had shown promise, but overall he had found them petty and cruel – and after forming this opinion, he had shied away. Now they held little interest for him, although he did find some enjoyment watching them scuttle about in the rain…like little dark beetles or ants.

A crack of thunder in the distance drew his attention. The tempest started to move away from the village and up the mountain – and Maras would follow it.

Find Nicole online:
Buy the book
Amazon –

Nook –

All Romance

iTunes

Kobo

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Drop by tomorrow to see the trailer and read a new excerpt from Rain.