Support STALKING THE DEMON's Release Day

Would you like to help support release day festivities for Stalking the Demon, Book 2 of The Seven Circles of Hell?

If so, there are a couple of options:

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I appreciate all your support!

Monday Morsel: Hellcat In the Dark - An Excerpt from 'Stalking the Demon'

Stalking the Demon has been coming back from beta readers and I'm working on incorporating their feedback - next step, off to the editor!

* * *

The laboratory was dark when Alloran returned. With sunrise only an hour off, Ashraque had finally gone in search of her bed. She was dedicated, if nothing else. The same couldn’t be said for Dalvor though – had he even looked at the interdimensional problem?

He pushed the door shut until the latch clicked. The windowless room was blacker than graphite. Indigo sparks ignited on his fingers. But no… Light would wake him all the way up, and maybe a few more hours sleep was better. The magic died.

A hiss issued from the depths of the room, like steam escaping a pot. Had Ashraque left some experiment unsupervised? 

The glow of two red cat eyes opened in the shadows.

* * *

Thanks for dropping by! Don't forget, this is the fourth draft, and as such won't be perfect. If you like what you read, and are so inclined, show your support by leaving a comment. Stalking the Demon is expected to be released in August. If you'd like to sample more of my writing, check out the free short stories available on this site.


If this is your first visit to Monday Morsels, find others in the series by clicking on the ‘Monday morsel’ tag, or go to the first installment for Stalking the Demon.

More about Stalking the Demon:

Alloran lost his hand to thwart his renegade friend–but the world is still going to hell.

Six months after Ladanyon's defeat, Gisayne is fading away from a baffling illness. Alloran is desperate for a cure, but he has a secret–the seven circles of hell are unstable. His worst fear is that the terrible mirror spell cast upon Gisayne has wrought some connection between her and the demon dimensions.

As everything Alloran loves races toward destruction, he does the unthinkable and refuses to obey the council of wizards. The only people who can help him are the two research assistants assigned by the council–but he knows he can't trust them.

The answers are locked away in the last place anyone wants to go: hell.

But someone must.

If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to check out my previous posts if you haven't already. If you're finding yourself here often, you might like to join as a member, sign up to the blog through RSS or email, or sign-up to my newsletter. Check out my July Newsletter if you missed it.

Don't forget to share the love and spread the word on Twitter, Facebook or StumbleUpon (or other social networking site of your choice) if you know other people who might also enjoy this.

Thanks for stopping by and visiting!

I is for Ishafal: Dragon Bait (Part 4) - Free Fantasy Story

Welcome back to Part 4 of Dragon Bait. If you missed Burning: Dragon Bait (Part 1), Dragonflame: Dragon Bait (Part 2), or Guilt: Dragon Bait (Part 3), make sure you check them out first!

* * *

 The soft sound of a foot scraping on stone woke him. Too many years treasure-hunting on behalf of Athelstone had honed his sense of hearing. His hand closed on his sword, and he climbed to his feet, automatically cloaking his presence from dragons. He jammed the satchel hard into a crevice he found in the cavern wall. A shadow appeared at the cave mouth.

Framed against the light of midday, the black, feathered wings rose stark above her shoulders.

Varik’s hand tightened on the leather-wrapped hilt. Useless.

The Ishafal stepped inside, laughing. The waterfall sound of her amusement mesmerised him. Raven-black hair framed a face set with deep, dark eyes, and her flawless skin showed the tell-tale pearlescent sheen every Ishafal and Siren possessed. Blue and violet robes trailed across the stone.

Varik’s mouth fell open. His hand released the blade, and the weapon clanged to the rocky floor. Focus, fool. He tried to gather wits scattered by the unearthly beauty approaching him.

'So, thief, cornered like the rat you are.'

The power in her voice stirred him, and a foolish smile spread across his face. Stop thinking with your dick.

But he wasn’t; the magic in her voice beckoned, seducing and tempting, and no man could resist. Varik stepped towards her, unable to control his expression of adulation. He shook his head. Fight her!

Varik’s step faltered, and he wiped the stupid grin away with effort, forcing words from a constricted throat. 'Thief? You’re the thief.'

The Ishafal’s marvelous face darkened with anger for the barest moment before a charming smile curved her luscious lips, smoothing the anger away. 'You stole from me what is rightfully mine.'

Lassitude stole over him again. The corners of his mouth began to turn up in a beatific smile. Before the magic claimed him completely, he forced words through clenched teeth. 'You stole it from Athelstone.'

'It was mine first, before the Fall.'

Her words possessed a hypnotic rhythm, and Varik smiled, happiness and contentment suffusing him. Somewhere inside his head a voice protested she wasn’t alive at the time of the Fall, more than three thousand years ago. Nevertheless, he nodded, head bobbing loose on his neck. 'If you say so.'

Inside, he railed at his compliance, and rattled the bars of the cage she wove with her magic voice, to no effect. Tension drained from the Ishafal’s frame. She turned her back on him to rake the cavern with her gaze. Despite himself, he didn’t move, the foolish grin still plastered on his face.
 
'Where is it?' The Ishafal turned back and walked across to stand before him.

Varik screamed at himself from the prison of his own head. His mouth started to open. Somehow, he made himself bite his tongue, mangling the words before they emerged. A metallic taste filled his mouth.

Blood. Blood and weeping sores. He latched on to the taste of it, the look of it, feeding his guilt at his failure, his anger at the Ishafal. His body tensed against the magic, and a fixed, defiant grin writhed onto his lips. Painful image after painful image, he forced himself to remember the last days of Mesalina and his nieces; the terrible, prolonged agony of their dying.

The compulsion of the Ishafal’s voice eased. He imagined his fingers wrapped about her throat, crushing the fragile bones. His grin widened, lips drawing away from his teeth in a wild snarl.
 
'I take it back.' He forced the words out despite her. 'I don’t believe you. It’s not yours. You weren’t alive during the Fall.'

The Ishafal hissed, and her wings spread wide in a rustle of feathers. The allure dropped away. 'You question me? You, a mongrel son of a demon? An agent of Athelstone?'

Varik ignored the insults. He knew her magic to be dangerous in other ways than just the glamour of her voice. The hidden box remained his advantage. Once she had the box, she’d kill him.

Varik sidled along the wall towards the entrance. The light in the cavern dimmed momentarily as something outside blocked the sun and moved on. A shadow skimmed across the ledge, but the Ishafal didn’t turn. An idea took root in a flash. The dagger was gone, crumbled to ash, but here was something better. The only thing as old as Ishafal and demon was a dragon’s hatred for Ishafal. Might he lure her outside? If she trapped him in the cave, he was dead. If he lured her out... he still might be dead. Reckless, to play with a power as wild and mighty as a thunderstorm. He’d pay that price if she went with him.

He shrugged. 'What else am I going to do to pass the time? Besides, it's pretty easu to question a claim that is so obviously a load of -'

The Ishafal shrieked. 'You dare? You ignorant demon bastard! The box contains cesium, which we used before the Fall for things you can't even conceive in that tiny, egocentric brain of yours! Technology beyond anything your pathetic human race can even dream.'
 
She seemed to recall herself, and settled her wings behind her. A charming smile lit her face. Not the full force of her glamour, but an attempt to soothe him.

Cesium? It must be what lay inside the box. What was technology? 'You can say whatever you like about what's in the box, what you say it does. It proves nothing.' Varik stumbled over the unfamiliar word, and shuffled closer to the cave entrance. If he told her where to find the satchel, it might buy him enough time to slip outside. A gamble, by any measure. 'And I don’t care anyway.'

The Ishafal hissed again, and her ebony wings snapped wide in ire. He jumped back, colliding with the rock wall hard enough to smart. She stalked deeper into the cavern, farther away from the entrance.

'Don’t care? I was there when humanity crawled bleeding and raw from the toxic wasteland the fallen world became. Humanity would have died in the Fall, had we not saved some of them, changed some of them, so they might tolerate the poisons in the atmosphere until the world healed itself. We created you, and -'

'You know what I care about?' He didn't care that he interrupted her, ignored the way her eyes widened in fury. 'You killed my sister and her daughters.'

I killed them. Failed them.

The Ishafal’s eyes widened and she lunged at him, almost tripping on her trailing robes. A shrill screech issued from her throat as she spread her wings for balance.

Varik’s back already pressed hard against the wall. 'It’s over there!'

The winged woman spun, following the direction of his pointing finger.
 
'Dragon’s blood!' Now he was committed to his half-formed, foolhardy plan.

An orb of magic lit her way as the Ishafal darted toward the back of the cavern. Varik didn’t wait for her to find the box. He dropped the protections hiding him from the dragon, and bolted for the cave mouth. From behind, the Ishafal shouted in triumph. 

* * *

Read on in Joust: Dragon Bait (Part 5)!

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fiction piece is part of the A to Z Blogging Challenge and has not been to an editor.**

If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to check out my previous posts if you haven't already. If you're finding yourself here often, you might like to join as a member, sign up to the blog through RSS or email, or sign-up to my newsletter. Check out my March Newsletter if you missed it.

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Thanks for stopping by and visiting with us!

Monday Morsel: The Death Priestess - An Extract from In the Company of the Dead

Welcome to the Monday Morsel feature, where I share short extracts from the first draft of my adult epic fantasy/fantasy romance, In the Company of the Dead.

* * *

She raked him with a dark, measuring gaze. The contrast with Alharne couldn’t be starker. His wife had been joyous and carefree. Ellaeva seemed sombre as a tombstone.

What can I expect from a girl raised by the priestesses of death?

The thought gave him a sobering glimpse into what might have been her past – an image of a little girl, alone in the halls of death. The moment left him with a deep sadness.

* * *

Thanks for dropping by! Don't forget, this is a first draft, and as such won't be perfect. If you like what you read, and are so inclined, show your support by leaving a comment, and In the Company of the Dead will be available in the future. I aim to have the first draft finished by the end of March. If you'd like to sample more of my writing, check out my novella Confronting the Demon.

If this is your first visit to Monday Morsels, find others in the series by clicking on the ‘Monday morsel’ tag, or go to the first installment.

More about In the Company of the Dead:

Lyram already crossed a prince, and now he finds himself on the brink of crossing a god.

Son of a duke and second in line for the throne, Lyram is exiled to a lonely castle after assaulting the crown prince. When a hostile army arrives to besiege the castle, he believes the prince wants him removed – permanently.

As though answering their prayers, Ellaeva, the Battle Priestess of the death goddess, arrives unexpectedly. But she has not come to break the siege. Instead, she is in pursuit of a necromancer of the evil god of decay. When misfortune after misfortune befalls the beleaguered defenders, Lyram realises the necromancer is hidden within the walls, sabotaging the very defence.

Against the backdrop of clashing gods, Lyram must fight to save himself from the political machinations of his prince, and the dread plans of a necromancer. But as the siege lengthens, he realises the greatest threat may come from another quarter — a woman sworn body and soul to a god tempts him to pay a terrible price.

If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to check out my previous posts if you haven't already. If you're finding yourself here often, you might like to join as a member, sign up to the blog through RSS or email, or sign-up to my newsletter. 

Don't forget to share the love and spread the word on Twitter, Facebook or StumbleUpon (or other social networking site of your choice) if you know other people who might also enjoy this.

Thanks for stopping by and visiting with us!

Confronting the Demon: 99c SALE on October 12 ONLY

The gates to hell are thrown wide when Alloran is betrayed by his best friend, Ladanyon, and framed for forbidden magic. He is hunted by the guards and the wizards both, tormented by the gruesome murder of his friends and loved ones, and crippled by fear for the living.

Now Alloran must face his demons, or damn the woman he loves.

Also featuring bonus short story 'A Magical Melody'

Genre – High Fantasy (17+)

Length – 110 pages

Published – September 24th

October 12th Indie-Vengeance Day Special! 

“Ballintyne gives wonderful descriptions and I found myself becoming lost in the magic of her words in a picturesque world with every turned page”  Bella Doerres

“The power-packed action will leave you breathless and the eerie suspense will make you chomp on your own nails, beware!” Satarupa

“With imagination and detail that paints a full scene for the mind’s eye, Ciara takes us on a short but exciting journey into a world of magic, love and demons from hell.“ Miranda Wood of DustyKatt’s Stuff Reviews

“I actually enjoyed a good fantasy novel that didn’t take days and days to read, but still offered the opportunity to get caught up in its world and story.” - Tracy Riva Global eBook Awards Judge

~Amazon Kindle~ US $2.99 99¢ | UK £1.93 £0.77

~Trade Paperback~ Amazon US | Amazon UK

In honour of Indie-Vengeance Day Ciara Ballintyne is offering up “Confronting a Demon” for the sale price of 99¢
On October 12^th after more than a year of planning, more than a dozen bestselling indie authors from around the globe (seriously!) will gather in Dallas, Texas for a once-in-a-lifetime signing and meet-the-author event; Indie-Vengeance Day.
Come join authors from the U.S, Canada and Australia and meet some of the most notable and recognized writers in the indie author movement.

Goosebumps prickled her arms, and she hugged herself. Demons. Why did he have to mention demons? She didn’t want anything to do with demons. I want to pretend that day never happened.

Before she thought it all the way through, she deposited herself in his lap, slipped her arms around his neck, and tilted her head up to kiss him.

A raucous cheer erupted from the sailors. She glanced over at the men saluting her with upraised tankards. Heat burned all the way to her hairline. She ducked her chin and looked away but refused to move from Alloran’s lap. The men shouted out obscenities. Or were those suggestions? The heat in her flaming cheeks intensified as she pulled her hood up to hide her face.

Alloran sat rigidly, staring down at her with an unreadable face.

She pouted. ‘I haven’t seen you in three months, and you don’t even have a kiss for me?’ Provoked by the continued catcalls, she wriggled her hips against him. Leather slid across coarse cloth. What is he wearing?

He seized her by the shoulders, pressing his fingers into her flesh hard enough to bruise. Another squeak escaped her throat. Her mouth tried to find words, but nothing came. He bent his head and brought his lips to her ear.

‘Is this a game to you, Gisayne? A game? This is my life. I haven’t just been vacationing somewhere, I’ve been running for my life, from Ladanyon, and from your father!’

.

Ciara Ballintyne was born in 1981 in Sydney, Australia, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, one masochistic cat, and one cat with a god complex.

She holds degrees in law and accounting, and has been a practising financial services lawyer since 2004. She is both an idealist and a cynic.

She started reading epic fantasy at the age of nine, when she kidnapped Castle of Wizardry by David Eddings from her father. Another two years passed before she began her first attempts at the craft of writing. Confronting the Demon is her debut book.

She enjoys horse-riding, and speculation about taking over the world. If she could choose to be anything it would be a dragon, but instead she shares more in common with Dr. Gregory House of House. M.D.

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