Good morning, and welcome to Friday. There are only 64 days until spring! Now, doesn’t that make you feel better? My visitor this morning is Chris Lange, another of SCP’s tremendous authors here to tell you about her latest book, The Lord of the Clans. Take it away, Chris.
About the book:
Captured by a rival clan, Ariana is
chained to a wall and about to be tortured. The Four Kingdoms aren’t
safe anymore. As if crossing dangerous territories wasn’t bad enough,
she is now trapped in a cave with her jailers. But they have it all
She isn’t a spy, she’s just a healer on
her way to her sick aunt. Escape is out of the question as she’s a weak
woman, yet fear twists her stomach when she realizes who will decide if
she lives or dies. The legendary Lord of the Clans will believe her or
execute her. He’s huge, he’s powerful and he has the power of life and
death over all the tribes. But maybe she has it all wrong.
Excerpt from The Lord of the Clans
Men had captured her as she had been entering a cave she thought deserted. Fighting hadn’t crossed her mind because, like her, they belonged to a clan. She’d been surprised when they’d handed her over to the tribesman currently torturing her. He’d stripped her of her weapons and tied her to the wall.
This one wasn’t a great thinker. He scratched his head some more, dirty fingernails rubbing on his short hair. Was he finally starting to believe her?
He brought the knife back against her face. She whimpered, the cold wall behind her preventing any movement. The iron bands around her wrists struck it as he threatened her with his blade, and the short chains rattled. He snorted at her alarm while he applied pressure on the corner of her eye.
“Don’t try to confuse me, wench. I ain’t nobody’s fool. So what do you say I gouge out this little piece of you? Would you be more talkative?”
Not a chance, given that she’d definitely be half-blind and screaming her lungs out. A shiver coursed through her when the long blade touched the inside of her eye.
“Come on, out with it. I’m your best bet, you know. He won’t be as indulgent when he gets here.”
Who was he talking about? Why did the mention of this mysterious person make her stomach churn?
She held her breath while the wild thumping of her heart tolled against her ears and uttered a small, pitiful sound.
“Refresh my memory, would you, Blahort? When did I ever order you to interrogate prisoners?”
The question shattered the moment of torture. Her tormentor wheeled round at the sound of the chilly, commanding voice and dropped down on one knee.
“I’m sorry, my lord. We caught her entering our caves, and I thought you wouldn’t be back before dawn.”
“That’s when you took upon yourself to extract information out of her, because she’s a spy?”
She couldn’t make out the source of the authoritative voice. Tears blurred her vision, and she wondered if the tribesman might have scratched her eye with his knife.
“Right, my lord.”
“I see. You may leave us now.”
The tribesman scrambled up to his feet. As he went past the man in the shadows, his name clacked throughout the cavern like the strike of a whip.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Don’t ever disobey my orders again.”
With a vigorous nod, the tribesman scampered away. The big, dark shape moved forward. Breath caught in her throat, she tensed as the mysterious man finally appeared in her range of vision.
He wore the usual sheepskin coat clansmen favoured but his size made her pulse race. She was tall for a woman, yet she wagered the top of her head wouldn’t rise above his neck. Shoulder-length, straight fair hair framed a face chiselled in ice.
A long scar ran from his temple down to the side of his mouth. With eyes the colour of a still lake on a cloudy winter morning, his gaze blew away her ability to think. The gray eyes seemed to see right through her while an aching pulse took complete possession of her body. She flinched, unable to meet his icy stare.
Chris Lange’s fantasy world where she lives most of the time. She loves alpha
males, badass bikers, sensitive men, hot vampires, angels, demons, cowboys,
cops, ghosts, knights and kings. She’s a dreamer and a storyteller. She writes
about love, love, love, and sometimes she leaves her characters’ bedroom door
Amazon author’s page: https://www.amazon.com/author/chrislange