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In honor of everyone who has requested the book so far, here’s a short excerpt from a draft of Chapter 1 of In Ruins.
“Emyr knew his father was going to kill him. Their disagreements from his teenage years looked like friendly chats compared to the way they interacted now. It didn’t help that since he’d been “rescued” by his father’s men, his chambers stayed locked and drugs forced his complacency. It had taken three months for him to figure out that the “soothing concoction” his father’s servant brought him every evening contained a poisonous sedative. Since the discovery, Emyr had faked its ingestion and snuck out at night to study all he could about his nascent powers. How long that would last was anyone’s guess. If he didn’t think of something soon, he would be dead in a fortnight.
But the circumstances and the woman who had led him to the discovery of his powers were not something he could forget. She’d been ripped away from him just when they were realizing their feelings for one another. He had begged his father to spare her life only to find out he was too late. She and her friend—his former body guard—were already dead. Or, at least, that was the story the King was telling.
Several nights ago, he had witnessed the most quiet and graceful murder one could dream of. The blonde beauty had been holding the Ambassador close in a lovers’ embrace. Emyr had been about to turn away, not wanting to witness what he was sure would come next for such a famous womanizer, when the large man had folded to the ground like a sheet. The woman stood and re-pinned her hair. He’d been fascinated, despite himself. That was when he’d made the mistake of leaning too far in.
She was on him in seconds. The Prince, being no slouch at fighting himself, had been surprised when she’d taken him down almost too easily. That was when he’d begun to suspect his father’s lies. When she spoke, he knew. The fierceness in her eyes, even though they had been a watery blue instead of their natural striking green, had been a dead give away. Joy had flooded him so fast, he’d lost his breath. She was alive. His deadly, beautiful, smart-as-a-whip dream-girl still breathed.
It was only after she knocked him out cold that his faculties had returned enough for the anger to set in. There were plenty of things to be angry with his father about. This one was the worst of all. Besian had lied to his son’s face, letting him believe that his friends were dead. All the while, she had been in his employ and clearly couldn’t remember a thing. That meant Calloway might still be alive. That night, Emyr vowed to find both of them, restore their memories, and set them free.”