Friday, January 24, 2014

"Silver Tongue" by Evelyn Ink

ON SALE for $1.99
Silver Tongue
by Evelyn Ink

The newly released Silver Tongue is ON SALE for $1.99 (reg. $2.99) to 15 February.
Also available: Ill-fated. You can read my blog post and enter the giveaway for a chance to win a paperback copy (US only).

As the ice melts on Pearl Lake and the first frost blossom pushes its way up through the snow, a letter arrives. It is a request from the royal family; Belin is to spend the summer in Casterwick. Not just a week or two stuck in court, but the entire summer! Belin Vaulatrix is, as her mother puts it, “The only daughter of prominence who has been invited.” As the realization of what this means begins to sink in, Belin has no choice but to make her escape. The entire country will have to grow walls before she is going to marry that fat, dullard of a boy Edmon Casterwick!
However, in a country on the verge of civil war, plagued with a series of mysterious disappearances, she might just find herself on an adventure she does not expect …
For deep in the tunnels and passages of the Grendel mines there is a secret waiting to be uncovered – a mysterious weapon left behind and long forgotten. An army is forming, the country is dividing, and a terrible weapon is about to be unleashed on the innocent.

A groaning-howl, echoed out from the cave below turning her blood cold, and flying around the edge of the pit as fast as a scared rabbit, Belin was no longer aware of how narrow the stairs or how long the fall. Leon bellowed again, this one sounded almost painful.
How long will he be able to fight the poison? She wondered as she climbed, how long before he’ll be mad? Belin was nearing the top, and still pulsing with adrenalin. She did not have long to wonder; a howling scream tore up the shaft, this time from directly below, and there was nothing human about the sound.
Scrambling up onto the stone platform, Belin jumped to her feet. The tide had gone out, just as Leon said and the water was just lapping over the edges of the stepping-stones. Belin did not stop to think, measure, or plan; she only leapt, and leapt again. The stones were far enough apart from each other if she lost her momentum she would not make the next one. The water was dark– the stones darker. Their edges glowing like blackhole moons. The gravefish were a ghost of a blur beneath her, rushing to follow the sound of her feet slapping the stones. She did not slow down; she did not miss a step. She would not be their evendine meal. Belin touched land, wet rock and seaslate slippery under her feet, she fell, scraping her knees, but in her panic felt no pain.
Struggling onto the dry rock, she stood just in time to see Leon come roaring up out of the pit. He crouched, flinging his head left and right like a wild beast before leaping onto the nearest tomb and landing on all fours. Belin ran for the lunas stair, looking back only long enough to see Leon hurdling himself from the top of one tomb to another. The distance between them was impossibly far– a cart length at least. She reached the stairs and began a mad scramble; Leon was already a mere three leaps from the shore and aiming directly for her. With each jump he groaned and howled like some kind of mad predator. Belin doubted she would make it much further than the door before he caught her.

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About the Author
Evelyn Ink was formally trained to be a parachutist, but found it did not fit her longstanding desire to avoid heights and thus decided to study a much less vertically horrifying subject; English Literature.
Due to the world-wide web of conspiracy which surrounds Evelyn Ink, she rarely appears in public, but when she does its best to avoid her due to her enduring history of social disrepute. There has been more than one regrettable event regarding bent cameras and shattered umbrellas.
It's hard to say how old she is, but it is likely she was born well before you were. Her childhood home, deep in some unknown, but undoubtedly pleasant countryside, was turned into a plastic bubblepuck factory forcing her family to move deep into the Stonegrave Mountains. These Mountains were unfortunately chosen to be used as an experimental avalanche catastrophe (EAC) site and once again the Ink Family was forced to move. It seems ill-fortune struck again and again as they were repeatedly obligated to change locations: once due to a plague of urban badgers, a fracking sinkhole, and then again when a tuna factory's waste disposal site was established just outside their home.
As an adult she has continued on in this nomadic lifestyle, crossing oceans and continents when necessary. Necessary being: under the scrutiny of the press, unwarranted investigations, and an ill-timed anarchist fan base. Mrs. Ink was quoted saying, "The prompt, brutal reports of the local tabloids are most inaccurate. Unrelated to that, I advise everyone to avoid the newspaper as it is insufferably dull these days." Mrs. Ink also prefers the term "vacation" to "exile."
That said, Mrs. Ink continues on writing and publishing while in exile ... sorry, on vacation, with her husband, who (name unknown) is thought by many to be both an anarchist and mad philosopher.
You may choose to follow Evelyn Ink on her blog, although due to her absolute terror of electronics and a crippling phobia of the social media (technical term: Socmephobia), her blog posts tend to be infrequent and erratic. Also, due to several post exile investigations and her current relocation program, she is generally prevented from giving specific information regarding her whereabouts (though, by the hollowly echo and vintage-like hum of a rotary phone, I would suspect from our last conversation, she is somewhere deep underground).
This report was conducted by:
Mr. Edwin Riddle
Of Public Relations, Personal Investigates, and Subterfuge.

Enter the giveaway for a chance to win a paperback copy of Ill-fated (US only).