Serenya’s Song by
Mysti Parker
Blurb:
No one ever said love was easy...
Serenya Crowe may be a half-elf commoner, but
she's no ordinary woman. With the ability to interpret dreams, and a birth
defect that forces her to wear gloves, she's endured gossip and the cruelty of
her husband, Sebastian, The Earl of Summerwind. All she's ever wanted is to
live a quiet life and raise a family. When she meets the new stranger in town,
her world and her heart, are turned upside down.
Wood-elf Jayden Ravenwing is an ex-secret agent
who wants nothing more than to forget matters of the heart. He left the bustle
of Leogard and his failed marriage to make a fresh start in Summerwind. He
never planned to fall in love again, especially with the enchanting Serenya
Crowe.
When a strange portal opens on the Crowe
property, Jayden is thrown into an investigation, knowing that if he fails,
Serenya and everyone in the town may die.
Together, he and Serenya must overcome an
ancient evil, and their own inner demons, to save Summerwind and find the love
they've always dreamed of.
Excerpt from
Chapter Ten:
Serenya’s monstrous transformation begins…
Hungry. So hungry.
My stomach clenched in painful spasms. In the
dark, quiet house, I pattered down the stairs on bare feet toward the kitchen,
scratching at my itchy shoulders. Turning left, I crept about the familiar room
and easily avoided the butter churn to the right of the pantry. Inside, nothing
satisfied my nose. Dried and jarred fruits and vegetables, smoked meats, stale
bread, waxed cheese wheels—nothing was fresh
enough.
I paused, listening. My senses travelled
northward, to the pastures, and to the small calves born this week. Five of
them, lying by their mothers under the low branches of the meridian trees. Deep
breaths resonated in and out of their large lungs. My skin twitched to the
rhythm of their beating hearts. My mouth watered at the thought of their blood
pumping through the arteries. So hot. So fresh.
No, this
can’t be real.
I grabbed a jar of corbet fruit preserves,
twisted off the top, and plunged my fingers into the gooey condiment. I scooped
up a few mouthfuls, gagged, and dropped the jar. Glass and preserves splattered
over the tile and onto my toes. The rhythm of those calf hearts still beat in
my ears. Saliva pooled in my mouth. If I ran out to see them, I’d be satisfied.
Yes, I’d see the calves, and it would all be fine.
Without thought for a cloak or shoes, I crept
from the kitchen, though the sitting room, and across the foyer. I opened the
front door. My nose twitched. I stepped out on the porch. The breeze carried
the coppery scent of young beef and rich blood. I licked my lips and dug at the
insistent itch on my shoulders. Drool dripped down my chin.
Leaving the door wide open, I leapt over the
porch rail and landed in a crouch. I sprang to my feet and started forward,
picking up speed until I broke into a run. Around the house I flew, past the
trimmed shrubs and under an arbor of corbet
vines. The fallen orange fruit squished between my toes.
I leapt over the white board fence and ran for
the pasture. My feet pounded on the ground. Hunger drove me on. Closer. They
smelled so good. The mothers stirred and mooed. The young calves woke and
struggled to stand. They all bolted as I reached them. I made a final leap and
landed on one.
Blinded by hunger, I flipped it over and
grasped its muzzle with one hand. I held the kicking front legs down with my
other hand, and wrapped my legs around its hips. A deep growl vibrated in my
chest. My jaws opened to the point of unhinging. I sank my teeth into its
throat. It bellowed and struggled against me. I tore into its flesh, crushing
its windpipe. It wheezed. I held on. The calf’s movements ceased. I released my
clamped jaw. Hot, sticky blood poured from its severed jugular. I lapped at it,
then applied my mouth and drank deeply until the flow slowed to a trickle.
Feed, my
child, feed!
The voice came from inside my mind. I’d heard it
before, in Jayden’s cabin when I had the vision of fire. But, this time, I felt
no fear. I threw back my head and let loose a deafening shriek. My claws had
grown back, longer than ever. They tore into the calf’s belly, spilling its
entrails. I ripped out its liver and devoured it.
Someone ran in from the opposite side of the
carcass and tore into the intestines. I jumped back. It appeared to be male,
larger than me, with dark hair and the same claws. Patches of black scales
covered his face and chest. Pale skin peeked through between them. His eyes
were bright green, and had pupils with vertical slits like a reptile. He raised
his bloody face. A forked tongue lashed out to lick thin lips. He grinned with
a wide-open mouth, revealing razor-sharp teeth. I snarled and feigned a charge
at the intruder. He growled in response and kept feasting. Lightning struck in
the clouds overhead. Thunder rumbled and shook me to my senses.
With shaking fingers, I felt my own teeth.
They were sharp. Bits of flesh clung to them. A petrified scream escaped my
lips. I backpedaled to get to my feet again and away from this thing, from this
carnage. The other being, or whatever it was, stood slowly, eyes on me like a
predator gauging its prey.
It stared right at me, and a voice I’d never
heard spoke inside my head. Run! He’s
coming, and he’ll kill you.
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Bio:
Mysti Parker (pseudonym) is a full time wife, mother
of three, and a writer. Her first novel, A Ranger's Tale was published in
January, 2011 by Melange Books, and the second in the fantasy romance series,
Serenya's Song, was published in April 2012. The highly anticipated third book,
Hearts in Exile, came out in June 2013. The Tallenmere series has been likened
to Terry Goodkind's 'Sword of Truth' series, but is probably closer to a
spicy cross between Tolkien and Mercedes Lackey.
Mysti's other writings have appeared in the anthologies Hearts of Tomorrow,
Christmas Lites, and Christmas Lites II. Her flash fiction has appeared on the
online magazine EveryDayFiction. She serves as a class mentor in Writers
Village University's seven week online course, F2K. Currently, she's working on
her first historical romance and has two children's books in the the hands of a
hard-working agent.
When she's not writing, Mysti reviews books for SQ Magazine, an online specfic
publication, and is the proud owner of Unwritten, a blog voted #3 for
eCollegeFinder's Top Writing Blogs award. She resides in Buckner, KY with her
husband and three children.
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