War makes monsters of all men, and love alone can conquer it. Blood Curse (Cully Beinn Wolves) Historical Paranormal Romance by Brekke Elle Book Tour with Guest Post and Giveaway
War makes monsters of all men, and love alone can conquer it.
Blood Curse
Cully Beinn Wolves Book 1
by Brekke Elle
Genre: Historical Paranormal Fantasy Romance
An
untrained healer’s apprentice.
A shifter pack forced to go to
war.
And a curse that could swallow all of them whole.
Rini MacIllroy chafes at the responsibilities of being an apprentice healer to her shifter wolf pack. They have stayed safe by keeping separate from humankind, but the American Civil War encroaches on their village, and Rini’s friends and lover are sent down the mountain to fight, while Rini must stay behind.
When a deserting soldier attacks a young girl, Rini jumps into action with tooth and claw. But her rage unknowing unlocks an ancient curse that feeds on bloodshed and violence. Now Rini is hunted through her dreams by a shadow made of nightmares and midnight. Even her steadfast friends and mentor, the ancient priestess Sedna, are unable to help her quell the lust for blood that threatens to consume Rini from the inside out.
When one of her Pack returns from the battlefield, he is broken in body and spirit. Even Sedna’s considerable power cannot heal him. Rini must sing back his soul, using her healer’s magic to heal the wounds that go beyond flesh. While the curse tightens its hold, calling not just for bloodlust but to claim souls, Rini struggles to keep her own inner wolf at bay. Neighbors turn against neighbors, friends betray friends, and the Pack threatens to rip itself apart at the seams.
Can Rini defeat the curse in her own blood, or will she and the Pack she loves be consumed by the beast within?
Blood Curse is a lush historical paranormal fantasy set gainst the backdrop of the American Civil War, weaving the folklore of the Scottish Highlands with New World magic. Perfect for fans of strong female friendships,coming-of-age adventure, and slow burn, fated mates romance. It ends in a mild cliffhanger.
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June 1863
It was early morning, yet the whole
of Cully Beinn milled about the flat yard in front of the Inn. Trays of sweet
bread, cheese, and sausages were set on tables spanning the wide Inn porch. The
morning air was thick with moisture, already overwarm. Rini smoothed away wily
ringlets from her damp forehead. She’d worn her best dress, and could feel it
sticking to her back, a film of sweat soaking into the green fabric. She longed
to strip the constricting clothes from her body and change from skins to
furs.
Mena and Kurt stood beside Rini, their shoulders brushing
against one another. As if they thought Rini couldn’t see how they snuck
glances, or let their fingers casually bump. For all that, Kurt’s lips were
pressed into a thin line. Rini knew he felt guilty for not enlisting. Even
though she hadn’t seen him in her dream, and Chief Ian distinctly forbade those
who were not in the dream from enlisting, the pressure to prove himself a
warrior itched at him.
“Am I a coward for being glad that I
don’t have to leave the Pack? Shouldn’t I want to write my name in the book of
legends as a warrior, not as a farmer?” Kurt blurted as they joined a growing
crowd.
“Being a coward is running away from
a fight; you’re not running away,” Rini pointed out.
“Aye, I’m just skirting it.”
“No, you’re doing the hard work of
staying. It’s a lot easier to go—to face that particular kind of fear. But you
have to stay; to fill in the gaps all those males will leave behind. That’s a
different kind of courage,” Mena said, soothingly.
Kurt snorted. “It doesn’t feel much
like courage.”
“It doesn’t feel much
like glory,” Rini said, poking him in the shoulder. “But the rest of us
have to just get on with things, right? We have to be courageous enough to live
our lives without any glory at all.”
Rini looked over her shoulder at
Kurt now. His face was stony and impassive. Her playful words hadn’t lifted the
weight of guilt that settled about his shoulders. Dylan and Kurt were agemates
and had played together as cubs. Rini knew it was Seamus who had taught Kurt to
saddle a horse. These were his friends that were going and he was being left
behind.
I’m being left behind, Rini thought,
a pang of loneliness striking her. Toby and Bryan were her agemates, and she
had learned all she knew of horse handling from Seamus and Gabriel. And Kieran…
she couldn’t think about him leaving. Not after their stolen kisses. Their
secret Promises. She had to think around his leaving, or risk being
overwhelmed by emotions.
The high droning hum of the Highland
pipes cut through Rini’s thoughts. Uncle Joban marched down through the village
toward the Inn’s yard. Behind him, Chief Ian, Aunt Sedna and the Elders
processed, slowly trailing behind the wheezing bagpipes. Behind the Elders came
the lads: James and Fritz Kinnear waving to the gathered Pack; Toby and Bryan
Grady both grinning like fools; Seamus McCormick smiling and laughing, Gabriel
Coburn his face cool and emotionless, Dylan and Kieran, heads bent together,
sharing some secret thought.
The parade wove around the side of
the Inn and marched through the center of the yard. The Pack crowded around
them, encircling the procession in a ring of calico. For a moment, Rini felt
the hum of the pipes mingle with the singing and sighing of the trees, and they
were one song, one unbroken hymn encircling the lads, and the Pack and all of
Cully Beinn. It was a bigger song, older than Rini and the lads, older even
than Aunt Sedna. It was a prayer, a wish, for the living, straining through the
leaves and bark, humming out to wrap around them like the embrace of so many
centuries, so many lifetimes. And Rini and her Pack were just one refrain among
the many, unique and yet not alone.
In that moment, Rini was intimately
aware of the great oneness, that her heartbeat was its own percussion in the
hymn of life, and that her Pack’s heartbeat—pounding out one steady rhythm, was
its own kind of music. Though the lads would leave the safe cradle of the
mountains, their hearts would still be thumping in time to the Pack’s rhythm.
This was a comfort to Rini, and she smiled, sliding out of that moment of
oneness and refocusing her eyes on the Bennachadh.
Aunt Sedna raised a bowl of water in
one hand and a bough of rosemary in the other. Uncle Joban let the droning
pipes fade and it felt as though all the Pack held its breath.
Dipping the bough into the water,
Aunt Sedna raised it in a wide arc and shook it vigorously, spraying the
assembled lads with droplets. She dipped the branch in again, and began to sing
as she shook it over them again.
May the road be flat before you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warmly on your face
May the stars give light to your way
Until we meet again
May the Moon hold you in the safety of her hands
As she sang, Aunt Sedna dipped and
shook the rosemary over and over again, walking down the line of males. Each
closed his eyes to receive the sprinkling, bowing his head slightly toward the
older woman. The tips of Rini’s fingers tingled; she could feel the power
moving through her great aunt. She could almost see the waves of it rolling
through the water and rosemary, mixing and landing with the gentleness of a
kiss upon those gathered. She could smell the crackling where Aunt Sedna’s
power sizzled in the humid air.
When she finished, Aunt Sedna handed
the bowl and rosemary to Aunt June. The fizzing power lessened, shimmering
around her in a faint haze. Chief Ian stepped forward, dressed in his finest
tartan kilt, sporran, and drapes fastened with the brass buckle in the shape of
a crescent moon. Moving silently, he took each lad’s hands in one of his and
whispered something in his ear while pressing another hand against the lad’s
shoulder.
One by one Chief Ian moved through
this quiet ritual of blessing and sending. None of the Pack spoke; each watched
and listened, hungry for each rustle of wool or crunch of their Chief’s boots
on dried grass. Never before had their Pack sent lads to fight a war in the New
World. This ritual was unfamiliar—full of ancient power and mystery.
He stepped back from the line of
males. No smiles played across their faces. Instead, hard lines of
determination, wariness, and pride hardened around their mouths and eyes.
“It is our custom that each male who
goes to do battle—whatever that battle should look like - leaves with the Kiss
of Luck.” Ian slid his eyes from the line of males before him to the gathered
crowd. “It is our love that shields them, like Daria first shielded Angus the
Mighty.” He turned back to the row of males, “Lads, go and get your Kiss of
Luck, then.”
Much to Rini’s surprise, Toby and
Bryan Grady went to Lilith and Lumina. Lilith grinned wildly, waving a daintily
embroidered handkerchief after Toby. Lumina rolled her eyes and sighed,
brushing her lips as quickly as possible across Bryan’s forehead. To no one’s
surprise, a red-faced Seamus sidled over to Isabella, who quickly placed a kiss
upon his brow before her father could say a word.
Two shadows passed across Rini’s
features. The first stopped to her right, standing before her Ma and Pa.
“Pattie,” Gabriel whispered. He
knelt before her mother and Rini swore she saw a tremor run through him. “I
have no mother or sister to send me on my way. Can I beg from you the Kiss of
Luck?”
Rini’s mother smoothed a strand of
his black hair from his forehead and cupped his chin with her hand. “Of course,
Gabriel. You’re family—a child of this Pack. Your Ma and Pa may be beyond the
stars, but you are all our son.”
She leaned forward and pressed a
tender kiss across his brow. Gabriel shuddered, as though a jolt of power shook
him. Then, Rini’s Pa raised him from the ground, wrapping the taller man in a
tight hug.
“Serenity,” the soft sound of her
name tore her from the scene of Gabriel with her parents. Kieran stood before
her, his thin frame trembling as he held out a hand.
“Will you give me the Kiss of Luck?”
Hello people
of the internet!
I’m Brekke
Elle (Rhymes with Becky Bell!), author of Blood
Curse, the first in the Cully Beinn Wolves historical paranormal fantasy
series.
Yes, you
read that correctly– historical, paranormal, fantasy. Also romance. And female
friendship. And coming of age. Whew!
Being an
indie author means I can do what I want!
I’ve been
writing seriously for more than twelve years, the first ten of which were spent
trying to break into the traditionally published space. After my fourth
manuscript was turned down because the agent “already had a chronic illness
rep” in his catalog, I decided that I wanted to go my own way. And it’s been a
wild and wonderful ride!
Blood Curse is my debut, a historical fantasy romance about wolf
shifters amid the turmoil of the American Civil War. The idea first came to me
in high school, actually. I am a living history reenactor (surprise! I know a lot about muzzleloaders and cooking
over a campfire), and I wondered about the stories of all the families who were
left to survive the impact of the war around them. I watched as my own friends
were deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan in “War on Terror” and slowly the idea
grew.
Take those
very human questions, mix in my undying love for Shifter stories and all things
magic, and Blood Curse was born!
Originally, this was a contemporary fantasy novel that took place in my
hometown of Atlanta. But that didn’t quite fit.
So I
listened to my characters, like Aunt Sedna, the wizened priestess who was born
in Scotland, and who knew a bit about old world magic. She reminded me this was
a story about war, and loss, and the many forms and flavors of love.
So we moved
from modern day, to the mid-1860s, and from the Deep South, to the craggy peaks
of Appalachia. Most of Blood Curse
was completed in the years I lived and worked in rural West Virginia, and the
stunning landscape shows up on the page.
Lots changed from the first concept, but 2
things stayed the same: Rini and Gabriel, two of the main characters. Their
personalities, Rini as curious, stubborn red-head, and Gabriel as a moody,
blue-eyed protector, have always been clear.
Rini
McIllroy has a lot of my younger self– she constantly struggles with both
wanting to be an adult and be respected, but also wants freedom and escape from
the responsibilities of adulthood. She cherishes her friends and family, even
when they annoy her (can’t we all relate?). Gabriel is your classic brooding
hero, scarred from losing his family at an early age, he’s the perfect moody
blacksmith. He’s lived rent-free in my brain for more than twenty years, so
it’s about time to share him with others.
I think one
of my favorite aspects of writing a series like the Cully Beinn Wolves, is that
I get to create a lush world full of my own myths and legends. These wolf
shifters are surrounded by lore– by their own heroes and heroines of Old. And
far from being just myths, this lore shows up in magic, and in the rituals of
their wolf pack, (and in later books!). There is Angus the Mighty, first
chieftain of the Shifter packs, and Daria, the first high priestess. We even
have legendary curses (which may or may not get broken!).
I even
adapted some contemporary Scots-Gaelic for key concepts in the pack, too. For
example, the Cully Beinn pack calls their priestess the Bennachadh (Ben-AUCH-ag, “blessing”), and the magical dreams sent
by the Moon are called Aislings
(ASH-link, “dream”). These little snippets of world building were so fun to
create and integrate into the overarching story.
I’m beyond
excited to share Blood Curse with all
of you! It’s out now, and Blood Bond
the second book in the Cully Beinn Wolves series comes out September 3rd!
If your
readers want an exclusive prequel
story about Rini’s ritual Marking into adulthood, they can grab it here: http://subscribepage.io/Uc1Sor
Brekke Elle is a word tinker, coffee drinker, and has clumsy thumbs (or so she claims to excuse typos!). A Georgia peach living in the heart of North Carolina, Brekke has traveled and lived around the world – including attending the University of Cambridge in England, interning for an NGO in rural Cambodia, and working at a university in Northern California. Along the way she has collected stories (and a bit of bad poetry too). Her first real desire to become a writer (more than just wanting to be Jo March when she was 9) was after reading SABRIEL by Garth Nix. It was the first world she ever wanted to fall sideways into, and she has been recreating those lush worlds for readers ever since.
When she’s not losing herself in her imaginary universes, Brekke spends most of her time chasing her four kids (including twin toddlers!), canning up homecooked chicken broth, and volunteering at a neighborhood community garden. Her favorite color is black (no, really), her favorite fairy tale is Beauty and the Beast (preferable one of Robin McKinley’s retellings), and her favorite drink is coffee until 3pm, then it’s a full bodied Pinot Noir.
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
Signed Copy of Blood Curse,
$10 Amazon giftcard
-1 winner each
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