Fire of the Gods (The Sahra Chronicles) Historical Fantasy Romance by Miriam Newman Book Tour with Giveaway
The Hand of the Gods has held all those who survived the Battle of Grandfather Mountain. Now, another has been born under the Fire of the Gods.
Fire of the Gods
The Sahra Chronicles Book 3
by Miriam Newman
Genre: Historical Fantasy Romance
The Hand of the Gods has held all those who survived the Battle of
Grandfather Mountain, and now another has been born under the Fire of
the Gods. Is it a sign of favor or does it mark him for
death?
Sange, sister of Arak clan chieftain Javrik, has
followed her husband, Arman, to his native land. But her people half
a world away are occupied by forces of the mighty Empirate of Omana,
and now she is in Alcinia, an ally of Omana. The Emperator’s
sisters hold powerful positions there and, belatedly, she realizes
that she and her infant son are hostages.
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Fire of the Gods – Excerpt #1
Omana
– The Empiricum
The laughter of
children echoed through the marble halls of the Empiricum, bringing a touch of
life to its chilly formality. Walking the hallway with a rolled-up communiqué
in his hand, the Emperator was greeted by the sight of a harried nursemaid
attempting to control a pack of scattered youngsters streaming towards doors leading
outside onto the grounds. One of them was his still-diapered son, waddling as
fast as his legs would carry him behind the group of slightly older children.
“Whoa, hold on, who’s
this, now?” he said, intercepting his progeny.
Dario grabbed onto his
pants leg, looking up and babbling earnestly in his own private language the
adults had not yet deciphered. Sergius had no doubt his son understood every
word. It was only the mentally slower adults, like him, who couldn’t catch on.
“Is that so?” he asked
the baby, smiling at the girl who ran quickly up behind Dario, momentarily
abandoning the others in her fright that the Emperator’s son had escaped her,
and right in his sight.
Sergius knew he cut an
imposing figure, but he didn’t like scaring servants who ran his household,
preferring to reserve his ire for more deserving figures.
“He’s fine,” he told
the girl.
“Yes, Sir.”
Transferring his
message to one hand, he bent and scooped up his son in the other, arm beneath
him as he carried him down the hallway and towards the doors. The other
children paid him no heed whatsoever, too young to understand their little
friend’s father ruled half the world.
“Here you go,” he said
to Dario as they reached the doors, lowering him to the ground. “That’s the end
of your ride.”
He just winked at the
girl, young and scared, and turned to resume making his way to the small
meeting chamber off the entrance where he often met privately with Lord
Alphonesi, head of the Empiricum. It was easier for the old, frail Lord to
reach in his wheeled chair and Sergius preferred saving the man’s strength for
affairs of state. He didn’t know how much longer he would have him and
Alphonesi’s advice was invaluable, his influence crucial, especially today.
Fire of the Gods –
Excerpt #2
Sange thought it was
the best night’s sleep she had known in years, and the best breakfast, flavored
with wood smoke, cooked over a fire...eaten in company with robust men and with
children playing freely, with no fear of them falling into a harbor or being
run over on a dock. Even her hair smelled of wild grasses as she combed it out
over her knees, then twining it in the braid Alcini women had disliked. She
needed only one thing to complete her happiness, rooting among their
possessions until she found it and took it outside.
“Pretty, Mam,” Mayvis
said, fingering the silky material. “Yes,” Sange said. “This was mine long
ago.”
She wondered if her fingers still knew how to tie on her headscarf. While
Mayvis watched curiously, she put it to the test, pulling the ends nimbly so that
the scarf formed a cradle for her head with a knot on one side and both ends
trailing in the wind.
“Do you like it?” she
asked Mayvis.
The little girl nodded enthusiastically.
“You will wear one of
these when you are older,” Sange explained. “When you have a husband.”
“What’s a husband?”
Sange smiled across the
campfire at Arman, who was just studying her silently.
“A man you love with
all your heart.”
I fell in love long ago with fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends, as well as stories of heroes and battles. Ancient Celtic writings were my special passion, along with the Roman Empire, Roman Britain, the Norman invasion of England, and tales of the Vikings. My first book emerged when I was an...ahem...youthful 52. Well, I’m not 52 any more and up to 34 books and it’s been a great run.
Retired from many years in social work, now I pass my days writing, researching and living with a pack of highly demanding rescue dogs. I write in every genre I please, usually with a good dose of romance, and you can see my books at www.miriamnewman.com.
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