The
Darkness of Light
The
Dia Chronicles
Book
One
Tammy
Farrell
Genre:
Historical Fantasy
ISBN-13:
978-1492766582
ISBN-10:
1492766585
Number
of pages: 375
Word
Count: 90,000
Cover
Artist: Nathalia Suellen
Book
Description:
The
world has long forgotten them, but their descendants live on, not
wholly mortal or god, but something in between…
At
the dawn of the sixth century, in the aftermath of her mother’s
brutal execution, Mara Black is forced to flee the only life she has
ever known.
Mara
can tell she’s different, but isn't sure why. After she encounters
two mysterious strangers, she discovers her secret is but a drop in
an ocean of many. She is a Dia, a descendant of ancient gods, and her
mother sacrificed herself to protect Mara from their past.
Summoned
by an uncle she didn't know existed, Mara thinks she’s found the
family she’s always wanted, and Corbin, a love she never thought
possible. But not everything is as it seems. Her uncle has other
motives for protecting her, and her mentor, Malcolm, becomes so
jealous, he’ll do anything to get what he wants.
When
tragedy strikes, and the true darkness among them comes to light,
Mara discovers that sometimes love can give you everything, and
obsession can take it all away. With her powers gone, and destiny
calling, she has to look deep within to find the courage to save
herself. Mara, along with Corbin and her newfound family, must fight
to get back what was taken, or die trying.
Excerpt:
The
drums echoed off the walls as Corbin and Malcolm made their way
through the back gates of Moorthrop. The guards and villagers were
gathered near the green, leaving no one to challenge their entry, or
seize their swords.
“We’re
too late,” Corbin said through clenched teeth.
“I
can see that,” Malcolm responded. “How was I supposed to know we
wouldn’t make it in time?”
Corbin
bit his tongue. Now was not the time to argue with Malcolm. They had
a job to do. As they weaved through the rows of huts, an old woman
called out to them. She sat near the door of her hovel, her body
hunched with age, and a half-woven basket in her lap. “Here for the
execution?” she asked.
Malcolm
laughed at the woman with a sneer and continued on. Corbin stopped
and looked at her with a tilt of his head; the knuckles of her hands
were swollen, and appeared painfully stiff. “Will there be an
execution today?” he asked.
She
nodded and pointed to the square. “I never saw in all my life such
evil as this. Killin’ folks fer nothin'.” She gave a disapproving
shake of her head and began to fumble with the basket.
Corbin
walked up to her and dropped a coin in her lap. When she glanced down
at it, he took hold of both her hands. She gasped as the blue light
from his fingertips covered her skin, but in less than a moment he
stepped back, and the light vanished. Blinking in amazement, she
examined her hands, her fingers spread out like wings, healed from
the stiffness that crippled them. She moved her fingers up and down,
and then met Corbin’s gaze and asked, “What magic is this?”
Corbin
smiled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Before
the old woman could respond, he continued towards the green.
He
met up with Malcolm as he approached the edge of the crowd. Malcolm
used his energy to move the onlookers aside. The crowd of people
wouldn’t know why they moved or even look at the two men moving
past them. The power of the veil was a gift to their kind, to protect
them from discerning mortal eyes. Most mortals wouldn’t have
noticed Corbin much anyway. He looked almost human. But anyone could
see that Malcolm, with his white hair and fierce gray eyes, was
different, unnatural.
The
man in the long black robe bellowed out to the crowd. “By order of
King Gerren of the realm of Dumnonia, we are not to tolerate evil
among us.” He pointed his finger at the accused woman on the
platform. Corbin used his keen sight to examine her. She looked
wretched, defeated, and certainly not one of their kind. Could Rowan
have been mistaken?
Corbin
turned to Malcolm. “Are they charging her with witchcraft?”
Malcolm
nodded with a smirk. “It appears that way. Fools. They waste their
time looking for witches. They have no idea what walks amongst them.”
About
the Author:
Tammy
Farrell grew up in Orangeville, Ontario Canada where she discovered
her love of writing, and all things related to Edgar Allan Poe. She
now lives with her husband and four fur babies in Greenville, South
Carolina, where she teaches pre-GED English and attempts to learn
French when she isn’t busy writing.
@Tamzwrite
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