I am delighted to welcome Jen Corkill to my blog today. Jen describes herself as a stay at home geek in rural Nevada where she gardens, sews,paints, and weaves magic into the daily lives of her three beautiful children
and amazing husband. Every day is a blessing. Sometimes, she even finds enough
calm moments to write…sometimes. Her interests include Star Wars, Victorian
Literature, Bioware, power metal, and enough coffee to float her to Helstone.
You can find out more about Jen on her webpage: JenCorkill.com
Her new book, Seasons of Mist, is out very soon. Below is a blurb and an excerpt.
Justine Holloway prepares for her debut into society, compliments of her
godparents, while the underworld of London groans with unfettered abhorrence.
The Varius are refugees from a parallel universe who shift their form while
others channel the forces of magic, an element that once flowed freely between
both worlds. They seek refuge in Victorian London, hidden in the slums, easily
forgotten until a human ends up incinerated or sucked dry. It is the job of the
Council, created for the protection of humanity, to step in and eliminate the
threat.
What Justine does not realize is her godfather runs the Council right under the
nose of polite society, much to the dismay of his genteel sister. Justine
suspects something mysterious is brewing when the handsome Egyptian Ambassador
heals before her eyes. It’s an image she can forget and a mystery she wants to
solve.
When a deadly vampire makes his devious intentions known, her survival might
depend on this strange Egyptian. Unfortunately, he can’t figure out why he’s so
drawn to her, or whether he must kill her to save humanity.
Scroll down to read an excerpt.
A lanky man wearing the livery of a deckhand strode to the side of the captain’s
cabin and peered into one of the portholes. He licked his lips and dug inside
his pockets. At first, Justine contemplated going to her cabin but his gaze did
not alter as he stood, eyes fixated on the room she’d just left.
“Excuse me…can I help you?” Justine ventured. “Is there someone
inside you wish to speak to? The captain perhaps?”
The man did not respond. He acted as if she was invisible. Whatever
drew him to the cabin smothered any sense of life or breath. Without looking
down to see what he brought out of his pocket, Justine noticed a metal necklace,
a medallion of sorts, clutched in his grasp. He brought the trinket to his face
near the porthole glass, hot breath fogging the glass. His long fingers rubbed
the shiny metal, twisting it this way and that as if ready to smash it through
the window.
“The Master said this’d find him…” His words came out in an elated
whisper. The young man’s attention darted from the necklace to the window and
back. He licked his lips again and finally blinked in rapid succession. Then, he
smiled. The expression of delight brought a childlike innocence to his intense
errand but it did not last. As before, he twitched, his hands trembling. “Why is
it not working?”
Justine stepped back, fearing he’d throw the necklace to the floor in a rage.
Snarling, saliva seething from his mouth, he beat the medallion. Was the man
mad?
“Excuse me?” Justine repeated. “Are you alright?”
Whatever haze clouding the deckhands mind cleared. He jumped and
stared at her, no doubt startled at her appearance. There was nothing between
her and his pale eyes, so empty and devoid of color. It was as if she looked
through a window into an empty room where nothing lived. Something vile animated
his corpse, legs and arms moving towards her like a marionette. The railing was
the only thing separating her from the frozen water below. Cold metal burned
through her gloves. Justine shivered wishing she’d had run away when she had the
chance. His breath brushed against her exposed skin, a putrid smell that made
Justine feel compromised, unclean.
“Stop…you’re frightening me,” Justine whined. Nothing wanted to
move. Her legs turned to stone beneath her. All she could do was stand there,
desperately wanting to get away, to put as much distance between herself and the
vile creature as she could. He was close enough to reach out and wrap his hands
around her throat.
Oh God, please, let this not be Jack the Ripper. Justine had read
the headlines of the murder stalking London.
The deckhand never touched her, yet she still felt his body. “Tell
him to fear me for I know his secret.”
“Wh…what? What secret?”
Raised voices echoed from the cabin. Shoving whatever necklace he
held back into his jacket, the deckhand ran down the length of the deck and
disappeared.
Justine wasn’t quite sure what just happened. Had the man been
speaking about someone in the cabin? Mr. Tinnen or the captain? Of course the
easiest answer could easily have been the man was mad, but that did little to
ease the panic. Her hands trembled and not from the cold. Justine grabbed the
ends of her shawl and wrapped them tight around her. Every time she blinked, she
saw his eyes burning into hers. She fled to her cabin and locked the door behind
her.
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