I'm honored to host a stop on author Megan Curd's blog tour for Traitor, the sequel to her faerie adventure tale Bridger. Today Working for the Mandroid is hosting an excerpt from Traitor and I reviewed the first book in the series last week. If you'd like to see all the stops on the tour, visit the tour's webpage.
Also Megan Curd is giving away 19 ebook bundles that include both Bridger and Traitor. Stay tuned after the excerpt to enter to win. But first, the excerpt from Traitor.
Ignoring his mother’s question, Liam didn’t even bother to wipe off the green glob of spit that was now sliding down his nose. He instead brought the blade within an inch of the Changeling’s forehead right between its eyes. “Would you like to die, or do whatever it is that you Changelings do? All I require is a simple apology, one for Ashlyn and now one for me.”
A maniacal grin overtook Fred’s purpling face. “I give you nothing, but I will take your offer of death. An t-áadh na nGael tu.”
Before anyone could react, Fred thrust his head forward with a sudden jerk and connected with the worm blade Liam threatened him with. Liam jumped back and dropped the Changeling from shock as Fred writhed on the floor from the worm blade that now burrowed its way into his body.
“Way to put the whole plan arseways, Liam!” shouted Desmond as he bounded forward and tried to stop Fred’s flailing motion. The Changeling wailed in agony as we watched the blade scuttle under its skin, leaving what looked like crimson contrails in the blade’s wake. Desmond grabbed the chair and lifted the Changeling and the chair in the air and frantically tried to untie him. Fred lunged forward and bit Desmond’s arm, drawing blood. Desmond yelled and let go of the chair, clutching his forearm. “Bloody hell, the little wank bit me!”
Fred flopped like a fish out of water still tied to the chair as he banged into the table and then the small hatch along the wall, causing it to crash to the floor. Plates and cups shattered as they connected with the grey stone floor and scattered across the room. A moment later he burst into dust, nothing but a pile of ashes remaining on the floor. The now still worm blade lay innocently among the ashes, broken plates scattered across the stone floor as well. One plate still bobbled back and forth as it came to a rest. It was the only sound in the room until it stopped its motion.
“An t-áadh na nGael tu,” Liam whispered while everyone else remained silent, repeating what Bob had said. The way it rolled easily off his tongue made me think it was Gaelic, and I turned out to be right when Liam spoke once more. His voice was tired and strained as he gazed at the mess that littered the kitchen floor. “If the luck of the Irish is that we end up with a bunch of stinking Changelings in our kitchen, then we’ve hit the fekkin’ jackpot.”
And now the giveaway! Enter to win Bridger and Traitor below.