As I mentioned a few days back, The White Arrow is now making its editing rounds. However, I’ve chosen to make good use of the time while it’s away and put it into pre-order everywhere. Since I had the cover and I have 90 days to finish up, I wanted to go ahead and begin pre-release activities.
For anyone who missed it, here’s a look at the cover as well as all the shiny new retail links along with the blurb (still working on that so there will be several changes). Also, I post a short excerpt from the rough draft that I’ve also shared at the end of the other book including the novellas. I almost forgot, I also got a short trailer for The White Arrow that’s posted on my main page, the book page and, of course, debuts below in this post. Have a look at everything and reserve your copy for release day in September because the price won’t stay where it is for long after that.
Haunted by his failure. Hunted for his inheritance. Seeking the fulfillment of prophecy.
Athson has found the Bow of Hart and is pursued by his enemies as well as haunted by both his past and his failures. But according to Hastra the Withling, the prophecy of the bow indicates Eloch will send an arrow for its use. Magdronu watches for the appearance of the arrow and plots to regain control of his magic and set his plans in motion. With his sights set on Auguron, the dragon sends his forces on the attack while waiting for his chance to steal both prophesied elements that stand in the way of his ultimate goal. But when the arrow arrives it is from a most unexpected source and lands in unforeseen hands so that events twist like an arrow in flight. Can Athson overcome his past and his failures to use the Bow of Hart as intended against Magdronu? The archer and the bow await the coming arrow…
Apeth pushed himself to his feet, stepped around the fire and knelt before Athson. He touched Athson’s head and whispered a word Athson never heard clearly though it echoed across his mind in a moment that passed like hours.
Wellness covered Athson in an instant like a raincoat donned in a sudden downpour of rain. The cascade of sickness rolled from him and the fever fell away. His dizziness ceased and his vision snapped into clarity along with his thoughts. Weariness clattered from his limbs like loosened manacles from a prisoner. He gasped in delayed reaction to the Withling’s healing.
Apeth Stellin withdrew across the fire and rolled his bedding. “I was wondering why I was withheld from healing you immediately. And now it’s clear.”
Athson stood and inhaled deeply. “Thanks for that but I don’t follow your meaning.”
“We need to move.” Apeth pointed toward the cave entrance past the mule. “That wandering star is a sign. We aren’t the only ones to have seen it. You can bet Magdronu is seeking the arrow because of the sign. North is our way but choices lie ahead for you.”
Athson shoved the last of his venison in his mouth and chewed. In his mind, there was but one choice. “I see one way ahead.”
Apeth tugged at the brim of his hat and his blue-eyed gaze twinkled at Athson. “Oh, you have choices. What to do with the bow. Whether to finish this quest and find the arrow.”
With his arms spread wide, Athson lifted his gaze to the darkened cave roof rising above them. “Don’t you see? There’s no need for choices. Everyone’s dead that matters to me. My father. Limbreth. My companions. I can only see my way to one thing now and that’s bartering for my mother’s freedom.”
“That’s a choice to let the curse on you continue to grasp your life, Athson, continue to let Magdronu’s evil control you. You have a choice to stop it.” Apeth stepped close again, his gaze intense but not threatening. “As for Limbreth, by your dream, I wouldn’t assume anything about her fate. But there are choices ahead. Will you go as far as Marston’s Station with me before you make your final choice about the bow?”
Athson nodded. “I’ll go that far. I need supplies. But there’s no other choice for me.”
“Oh, but there is. Your dreams indicate something you must face.” Apeth gathered his things and paused in front of Athson.
Athson crossed his arms. “What must I face?”
“That you are gifted to be a Withling, asked to serve Eloch with everything you’ve been given.” The Withling strode toward the mule.
Athson’s head spun anew but not from fever. Light from the wandering star glimmered in the entrance of the cave and lit the Bow of Hart where he’d left it near the mule. His anger burst in a sudden bellow, “No!”
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