Welcome to the Goddess Fish Book Tour for Fathoms of Forgiveness by Nadia Scrieva. Enjoy the excerpt and don't forget to comment. Nadia will be awarding the box set of Sacred Breath Series or the box set of Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak (winner's choice)to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour
Follow the tour for a better chance of winning. The tour dates can be found here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2014/02/book-blast-fathoms-of-forgiveness-by.html
Fathoms of
Forgiveness
By
Nadia Scrieva
BLURB:
Meet the brave and fearless Visola; a woman unlike any you've ever encountered. Her wit and humor take her through the darkest of dangers with a smile always on her face--and her smile only grows larger as the odds become more impossible. With no concern for her own safety, Visola dives headfirst into the throes of battle to protect the people and country she loves, even if it means facing her worst enemy--the one man who can get inside her head and break her down like no other: her own husband...
EXCERPT
When Aazuria entered the room, her eyes were immediately
drawn to Visola’s wild red hair, which had recently been a lustrous mass of
audacious curls. Now, her hair was limp. It hung against her head flat, frizzy
and defeated. Aazuria’s eyes darted to the warrior’s sunken cheekbones and
gaunt face. She saw the bruises on Visola’s neck before her eyes traveled
further to the withered, wasted limbs. Every visible part of her friend’s body
was covered in fresh scars. She saw the bandaged hands. Visola had been starved
and tortured.
Perhaps in these modern times, even under the surface of the
sea, kings, queens, and the aristocracy had close to zero significance. Perhaps
the words and decrees which left Aazuria’s mouth would have minimal
consequences. No one in the throne room felt this way as they awaited Aazuria’s
judgment with bated breath. Sionna was standing aside, with her arms crossed.
The newly-crowned queen gripped her husband’s sword tightly in her fist as
Trevain and Elandria entered the room behind her.
Aazuria shifted her eyes to the man standing beside her
friend. Her face was expressionless.
“Approach me, Vachlan,” she whispered.
The man began walking toward her. Although his stride was dignified,
there was hesitation on his face. Visola began speaking, pleading words which
Aazuria could not hear over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
When Vachlan was close enough to strike, Aazuria gazed at
him with death in her eyes.
“Kneel,” she commanded him. Her chest was rising and falling
perceptibly.
Vachlan knew that this would be a very unwise thing to do,
but he owed it to Aazuria. He owed it to Visola, and to Adlivun—the nation he
had once called home. He lowered his
head and dropped to one knee before the queen, saluting her across his chest.
His eyes were level with the sword she held, and he could see the veins bulging
through her translucent pale skin from how tightly she clutched it.
“It would be futile to order you punished,” she said slowly.
“No one can even attempt to hurt you as much as you have hurt her.”
“I know,” he answered quietly.
“But it is my duty to try.”
She struck out with her sword, slicing the air until the
blade collided with his face, knocking Vachlan off his knees and onto the
floor. Aazuria could vaguely hear Visola screaming for her to stop, but she was
already standing over Vachlan and forcing the tip of her sword between his
teeth. Her previous strike had resulted in a huge bleeding gash along the side
of his handsome face, but it had not been enough to kill him. She was poised to
finish the job.
Vachlan moved his tongue against the steel, tasting the
freshly-sharpened metal edge garnished with the metallic taste of his own
blood. It is rare that the wine so
perfectly accompanies the main dish, he thought as he swallowed the coppery
fluid accumulating in his mouth. Kind of
like a German Pinot Noir. He looked into the azure eyes of Adlivun’s queen
and realized that this was no longer the innocent, charitable philanthropist he
had known hundreds of years ago. She was hard. He wondered what percentage of
the tempered rage behind her eyes he was responsible for generating.
“One reason.” Aazuria was demanding. “Give me one convincing
reason that I should not thrust my blade directly through your skull.”
AUTHOR INFORMATION:
Nadia Scrieva lives in Toronto, Canada with no husband, no kids, and no pets. She does own a very attractive houseplant which she occasionally remembers to water between her all-consuming writing marathons.
Contact Information
Website:
www.NadiaScrieva.com
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/NadiaFans
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/NadiaScrieva
Fathoms of Forgiveness
Purchase Links
Barnes
and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fathoms-of-forgiveness-nadia-scrieva/1109848141?ean=2940044959552&itm=1
Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/235351
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Nadia_Scrieva_Fathoms_of_Forgiveness?id=TgdSAgAAQBAJ
