It’s taking me quite some time to write The Sinner’s Daughter, the follow on from The Reluctant Prophet. Midway through last year I made the heart-wrenching decision to discard 70k of what was then 90k worth of work and re-write the book. I was hoping to have the re-write and a first edit finished by May, but I still have some work to do and hopefully, I’ll have it finished by July!
Needless to say, the decision, although tough, was one I don’t regret. I think it makes it more cohesive and ties in better to book one, while still standing as its own story. So a thank you for your patience, to those readers out there who have asked me when book 2 will be out and to whet your appetite, I’m posting an unedited excerpt of Tamryn’s story below. So feel free to let me know if you think it hits the mark!
“Entering the anteroom with my guardian in tow, I expelled a tired breath. “Aramella, I am thoroughly exhausted and cannot wait to crawl into bed.”
When she did not answer, I frowned and glanced at the guardian, who lifted a hand and stilled me. My heart thumped wildly as the guardian went forward, considering the dressing room, before entering it. I followed closely behind, not wanting to be left alone. The dressing room was empty, the lonely lantern flickering light into the room.
The guardian stared at the bedroom door, withdrawing her dagger slowly before moving to it and pushed it open. It was dark as she stepped inside. My growing panic deepened when I saw that her bright aura was tinged with fear. She disappeared into the darkness and a small noise caught in my throat.
“Is everything all right in there?” My voice trembled as I moved to the door, expecting to see the guardian, but my steps halted when I saw Aramella standing in the middle of the room. There was no sign of either guardian, but the dim light from the dressing room struck my maid’s face. Her eyes were wide and frightened. Alarm blossomed in my chest.
“My Lady!” she cried. I tried to turn, but a pair of hands latched onto my face. Screaming, I struggled against the suffocating pressure the hand and cloth pressed against my nose and mouth. It muffled my screams as I thrashed against the man who grunted and tightened his arm around me. Wrestling, we fell back into the bedroom. With my attacker beneath me, I found some purchase, but when I looked up for Aramella to aid me, other shadows moved within the room, shapes taking the forms of men. I attempted to scream again, but choked on the strong odour wafting off the cloth. The scent burned my nostrils and throat, the room began to tilt wildly.
I kicked and tried to bite, though it seemed to have little effect as another man grabbed my legs. Tears blurred my vision and my chest constricted. The men’s auras went wild and sprayed across the room, a myriad of confusing colours my dulling senses could not close off.
“Stop fighting!” the man hissed – his accent unfamiliar to my ears. Trying to scratch the back of his hand, I found I could not raise my arms. My body went numb, my vision blurred. Aramella cried out before I surrendered to darkness.”