Release Day Giveaway + Excerpt: THE RAVEN LADY by Sharon Lynn Fisher

Happy publication day to The Raven Lady by Sharon Lynn Fisher, the second book in Sharon’s Faery Rehistory series! I’m so excited to be sharing an excerpt with you today, which will hopefully tempt you to try this book. My review will be up later in the week, but so far I’m really enjoying it!

And courtesy of Blackstone Publishing, I have two paperback copies of The Raven Lady to give away (U.S. only)! Keep reading to find out how to win one.

Enjoy this taste of The Raven Lady:

To set the stage: King Finvara is in his study at Knock Ma, and the daughter of the Icelandic elf king has just arrived. She is to be a political prisoner/envoy, which Finvara’s cousin, the queen of Ireland, hopes will keep the peace between Ireland and its ancient enemies.

EXCERPT

FINVARA

“Your Majesty?”

I did not immediately glance up as a servant entered my study, where I’d been looking over an ancient map of Ireland. I had always loved maps, from the time my mother had taught me to read them. This one depicted an Ireland so ancient it was almost completely blanketed by forests, its contours suggesting the country had once been more mountainous—and far less boggy.

“Aye?” I said at last, turning.

The fellow was one of the servants from my family’s estate. My father had sent them “so that there might be familiar folk about you,” but I suspected it had more to do with keeping an eye on me. The earl had always been fond of me, but until the Battle of Ben Bulben, he had never taken me very seriously. Understandably perhaps, as I had never taken myself very seriously.

“Princess Koli has arrived,” announced the servant. The man was ever grim-faced—I suspected he had not come to Knock Ma voluntarily—but at the moment he looked like he had swallowed a toad.

A smile twitched on my lips at the poor fellow’s discomfort, but I managed to conquer it. “Very well, Keane. See that she’s escorted to her chamber, and that she’s made comfortable.”

“Your Majesty,” the man cleared his throat nervously, “the lady is insisting—”

He was interrupted by a flock of ravens sweeping in through the door, filling the study with the noise of their great flapping wings and gravel-throated cries. The servant shouted and stumbled, and I staggered back toward the open casement.

Only a spell, I realized, fanning out one hand and murmuring, “Disperse.” The birds had been conjured, and it was a simple enough trick to wave them away.

Merely shadows, they flew out the window and dissipated the moment the light struck them. But the last of the birds raked my head on its way out, sharp talons scraping the edge of my ear.

“Blast,” I swore, swiping at the wound with the back of my hand. Glancing at it, I saw a smear of bright blood. There was something unfamiliar in that spell. Nothing deadly, certainly, but something angry.

When I turned again to the servant, I encountered a figure clad in mourning crepe, her veil obscuring her features.

“Koli Alfdóttir?” I inquired. She was straight and narrow as a reed, and nearly as tall as I.

“Your Majesty,” she spoke sternly, in perfect modern Irish, “I understand that neither of us is pleased by these circumstances, but was I to expect less than common courtesy from the king of fairies?”

“Forgive me, lady,” I replied, feeling truly repentant despite the stinging wound on my ear. “We’re topsy-turvy here, as you can see, and I quite forgot you were arriving today.”

I realized belatedly that I had perhaps been more frank than necessary. The creature snatched the veil away from her face, and her gaze burned into me.

“Did you,” she said, a quiet rage simmering under her words.

I had little experience with elves, though I had seen them at Ben Bulben. My ancestor’s impressions also resided within me, and they were tinged with both fear and scorn. Fierce though she was, the princess was more womanly than I had expected—her ears were curved and pointed, but there was no sharpness to her other features, nor were there antlers or long teeth. Her skin did not appear to be inked with designs—though it was impossible to guess what there might be beneath that ghastly dress—nor did she wear the face paint of a warrior.

“My apologies, also, for your … for your mode of conveyance. My court is newly established, and I had not—”

“I understand that I am despised by you, sir,” she seethed. “You have made that plain enough.”

How I wished she would shout, or outwardly storm. This barely suppressed violence was far more troubling. There were both light elves and shadow elves among the Hidden Folk, and my ancestor had had little use for either—he considered them all to be arrogant and untrustworthy. They were said to be descended from Loki, the Norsemen’s lord of mischief, who had disguised himself and fled the wrath of Odin after causing the death of one of his sons, discovering Iceland in the process. But the shadow elves had earned the reputation of goblins, sometimes murdering mortals in their beds. An Irish fairy might play a cruel or even gruesome prank, but the fairies were answerable to me. This woman was not.

“I hope, lady, that I have done no such thing,” I said in a conciliatory tone.

But I had rejected her hand outright, and her father would have told her so. The lady’s pride would of course be wounded. And lady she was, I could see that now. I began to feel ashamed of the various ways I had humiliated her.

There was aught I could do but try to smooth her ruffled feathers. Fortunately, my ancestor and I both had considerable experience in managing ruffled females.

“Come now, madam,” I continued. “You must be fatigued from your journey. I will escort you personally to your chamber so that you may refresh yourself.”

KOLI

Something about me had surprised him, that much was clear from the way he was staring. Was my appearance such a shock to him, or was it that he had expected to find a wart on my nose and a hump on my back? Hooves, or perhaps a tail? I, too, had been surprised by his appearance. He was not the fair and golden lord that I had anticipated based on the stories my people told about the Irish. His skin was brown, and his head was covered by tight curls that had been burnished reddish gold in places, presumably by the sun. It reached down past his shoulders, but he wore it tied back from his face. His lips, framed by his dark beard, were an ashy rose color and shapely as a woman’s. His eyes, like many an Icelander, were an unclouded blue.

Though he did not look like my idea of an Irish king, he was every bit as arrogant as I had expected.

“No, sir, you shall not,” I replied. “I prefer the company of the servant.”

I turned then, not bothering to ask his permission to withdraw, and walked straight out into the corridor. I heard him mutter something to his man, who scurried after me. I eyed the servant impatiently and he ducked his head in submission, or fear, or perhaps both, and then scurried around me.

“This way, my lady,” he murmured, walking ahead.

Good, I thought. Let them be frightened of me.

The fairy court is restored. Who will win the game of crowns?

In the aftermath of Ireland’s battle with her ancient enemies, Queen Isolde orders her cousin, smuggler Duncan O’Malley, to assume the throne of fairy as King Finvara. He’s a fish out of water when it comes to nurturing the alliance between Ireland’s mortal and fairy peoples. And the queen wants him to wed the daughter of Ireland’s enemy, the king of Icelandic shadow elves, to help keep the peace. But the Irish think of the elves as goblins, and Finvara refuses.

Elven princess Koli, affronted by the king’s rejection—along with his decision to bring her to court as little more than a captive—vows vengeance. Shortly after her arrival, she uncovers a plot that would bring swift satisfaction. A dark and powerful fairy lord, Far Dorocha, wants to take Finvara’s crown and lead both the fairy and elven people to war against the Irish. And he wants Koli to help him.

It’s the perfect setup for revenge, but Koli soon discovers that Finvara’s not the haughty lord she believed him to be. And as she navigates treacherous waters inside the court, she gets glimpses of the magic and passion that have been slumbering inside her. She must choose a side in the new battle for Ireland—will it be the fearsome father she has served for nearly a century, or the fairy king who has helped awaken her to herself?

About Sharon:

I write smart, twisty, passionate tales—mash-ups of science fiction, fantasy, and slow-burn romance set in lush and atmospheric worlds.

A city mouse who was dragged by my country-mouse-aspiring family to an acreage just outside Seattle, I am also mom to two huge dogs, two ridiculous goats, an orange cat and orange mare, and a fluctuating number of poultry.

I’ve published sci-fi romance with Tor Books and erotic fairy tales with Penguin Random House. My debut novel, Ghost Planet, was nominated for a 2013 Romance Writer’s of America RITA award for best first book. My historical fantasy trilogy The Faery Rehistory is being published by Blackstone Publishing. The first book, The Absinthe Earl, has been an Amazon #1 best selling historical fantasy and historical romance!

I have always loved speculative romance, and here’s why (from an interview for the USA Today Happy Ever After blog):

“What I love best, as both a reader and writer, is to follow a heroine and hero to a place where the rules are different, stakes are high, and every plot twist triggers a fresh sense of wonder.”

Buy the book (out today!): Amazon | Kobo | Apple Books | Barnes & Noble | IndieBound

Sharon’s links: Website | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest

Facebook event for The Raven Lady

And now for the giveaway! Please fill out the form below to enter. This giveaway is open to U.S. residents only. Two names will be randomly drawn on October 21st. Good luck:-D