A Muddle of Magic by Alexandra Rushe Book Tour and Giveaway :)
A Muddle of Magic
Fledgling
Magic #2
by
Alexandra Rushe
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Pub
Date: 10/2/18
What’s
a nice Southern girl doing in a place like this?
Whisked
from humdrum Alabama to the fantastical land of Tandara by a mage who
won’t take no for an answer, Raine Stewart finds herself tangled in
a muddle of magic. A Dark Wizard is out for her blood, a demonic
golem has orders to dispatch her . . . and she stinks at magic. Being
a wizard, even a baby wizard, is harder than Raine thought.
Raine
and her companions find sanctuary amongst the famed warriors of the
snow-capped nation of Finlara, and Raine is reunited with her dear
friend, the frost giant Tiny Bartog. In short order, she unearths a
magic mirror, a dread curse, and a tragic, ill-fated love affair.
Safety,
however, is an illusion. The dreaded Magog’s Eye is still missing,
and war looms. It seems an entire world hangs in the balance, waiting
to see whether Raine will be able to harness her magic. But with a
little help from her friends, she’ll survive . . . she hopes.
“Raine? Get back here. You need to
see this.” What now?
Raine thought, closing the door. Hurrying into the library, she found
Mimsie standing by the window, her slim form shining in the dim
light. The ghost raised her arm and pointed to the mirror over the
mantel. The glass rippled like wind-tossed water. Raine gasped in shock as the
billowing folds of the mirror parted and a man with shoulder-length
auburn hair stepped out. He held a brilliant jewel in one hand and he
was dressed in some sort of costume—a tattered brown cloak, a
knee-length rumpled brown tunic worn over loose leggings of the same
color, and scruffy brown boots. He was handsome, Raine’s stunned
brain realized, but he was not the man on the ship. Oh, no. This was
an entirely different apparition. She stumbled back, tripped
on the hem of her pajamas, and crashed to the floor with the grace of
a hippo . Ignoring her aching rump, she gaped at the
stranger. “Do you see what I see?” Raine
asked Mimsie, her gaze on her brain’s latest manifestation. Boy,
when she had a meltdown, she had a doozy. “If you’re talking about the man
in the funny getup, absolutely,” the ghost said. “Call the
police.” “And tell them what? ʼScuse me,
officer, could you send someone over? A man just broke into my house
through the library mirror? They’ll lock me up and throw away the
key.” The man gave Raine a quizzical look
and said something in a strange language. He waved the jewel at her
and took a tentative step closer. “Forget the police,” Mimsie said
with a hiss. “Run. I’ll create a diversion.” Raine scrambled to
her feet and backed toward the door, her gaze on the stranger. He
spoke again and the jewel in his hand flared, bleaching the library
walls white. Raine’s muscles went stiff and hard as rock. She
froze, unable to move, pinned to the floor like a bug. “Let her go,” Mimsie screeched. She flew at the
man, passed through him, and came out the other side, but if the
intruder noticed, he gave no sign. With a despairing wail, Mimsie
disappeared, leaving Raine alone with him. Closing the space between
them, he lifted Raine’s arm and examined the splotch on the
underside of her left wrist. She stared at him, dizzy and
disoriented. His hands were strong and uncallused, and his palms were
hot against her skin. He felt awfully real for a dream. No
matter, she told herself. Tomorrow morning when I wake, he’ll
be gone. The stranger regarded her, his gaze
troubled. “There must be some mistake.” English, the man had spoken English,
though his accent was peculiar. He released her and stepped back.
“You are not what I expected, but you have the mark.” He stroked
his chin. “Still, best to be sure.” He waved the stone again. Raine’s
petrified muscles relaxed without warning, and she crumpled to the
floor. “Allow me to introduce myself.”
The man bowed. “I am Archimedes Brefreton, a wizard of the order
prime. You may call me Brefreton, Bree, or Red—anything but Archie,
which I detest. What is your name?” Wizard? The guy was a total nutter.
Correction: she was the nutter. She’d had a complete brain
melt. “There’s a good girl.” Brain
Tumor Boy gave her an encouraging smile. “Tell me your name.” Raine struggled to her feet and
straightened her pajamas. This was ridiculous. She would not
be controlled by a lump on her brain. But, to her fury,
the words tumbled out of their own accord. “Mary Raine Stewart, but that’s
my adopted name,” she heard herself say. “No idea who my birth
parents were. They left me on the steps of Saint Mark’s Episcopal
Church when I was a baby. My father’s aunt raised me after my
parents died.” She stamped her foot and glared at
this latest fancy of her beleaguered brain. “Stop that. You’re
making me talk and I don’t like it.” “Then I suggest you stop fighting
me and cooperate.” He looked her up and down, taking in her ashen
complexion, frizzy locks, and gaunt frame. “You are unwell?” “Wow, someone give Captain
Observant a free T-shirt.” “What ails you?” “Ding, ding, ding. That’s the
fifty-million-dollar question. The only thing the doctors know for
sure is that I’m dying.” “Dying? Inconvenient, to be sure,
but hardly insurmountable.” He brandished the gemstone at her. “Do
you know what this is?” “You got a shiny rock. Yay.” “It is not a rock. It is a god
stone and very powerful. With it, your vitality can be restored.” “Uh-huh.” Talk about denial. She was so
desperate to be well that her psyche had cooked up this garbage.
Pathetic. “Come with me.” He held out his
hand. “Help me save my homeland and you will be made healthy and
whole.”
“Mister, I wouldn’t go to the
corner store with you, even if you were real. Which you are so not.” His handsome features hardened.
Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her close. “You are under a
misapprehension. You have no choice. One way or another, you will
accompany me. There are more lives at stake than your own.” Lifting the jewel, he began to murmur
in that strange language, and the mirror over the mantel shimmered
and pulsed in response. Something clattered outside the
window, and he turned with a start. “What the–” Good old Mimsie. She’d promised to
create a diversion and she had, rattling the garbage cans around and
making one hell of a racket. Raine jerked free of the man’s hold
and punched him in the nose. Hard. “Ouch.” She shook her throbbing
hand and glared at him in outrage. “What gives? Dreams aren’t
supposed to hurt.” He winced and prodded the bridge of
his nose. “Now, see here, young lady,” he said as she drew back
her fist. “Do not—” Raine took another swing at the man.
He cursed and made a defensive move, and her fist glanced off his
upraised arm and slammed into the jewel. It blazed bright as a
miniature sun and flew into the air. A tremendous wind howled through the
library. Books tumbled off the shelves. Vases and bric-a-brac crashed
to the floor. The couch skidded across the room and Mimsie’s
favorite Queen Anne chair smashed into the wall. Raine was lifted off
her feet like a papier-mâche doll and tossed toward the mantel
mirror. She screamed in helpless terror as the glistening surface of
the glass parted like a pair of grotesque lips and swallowed her
whole. She tumbled, head over heel, through darkness. Stars melted around her. Down, down
she plummeted, toward a distant shard of light. The splinter of
brightness widened, and she caught a fleeting glimpse of mountains
and an ocean of trees. Then something slammed into her head and Raine
knew no more.
A Meddle of Wizards
Fledgling
Magic #1
Welcome
to Tandara, where gods are fickle, nightmares are real, and trolls
make excellent bakers . . .Raine
Stewart is convinced she’ll die young and alone in Alabama, the
victim of a chronic, mysterious illness. Until a man in a shabby
cloak steps out of her mirror and demands her help to defeat a
bloodthirsty wizard.
Raine shrugs it off as a hallucination—just one more insult from her failing body—and orders her intruder to take a hike. But the handsome figment of her imagination won’t take no for an answer, and kidnaps her anyway, launching her into a world of utmost danger—and urgent purpose.
Ruled by unpredictable gods and unstable nations, Tandara is a land of shapeshifters and weather-workers, queens and legends. Ravenous monsters and greedy bounty hunters patrol unforgiving mountains. Riverboats pulled by sea-cattle trade down broad waterways. And creatures of nightmare stalk Raine herself, vicious in the pursuit of her blood.
But Raine isn’t helpless or alone. She’s part of a band as resourceful as it is odd: a mage-shy warrior, a tattered wizard, a tenderhearted giant, and a prickly troll sorceress. Her new friends swear she has powers of her own. If she can stay under their protection, she might just live long enough to find out . . .
Raine shrugs it off as a hallucination—just one more insult from her failing body—and orders her intruder to take a hike. But the handsome figment of her imagination won’t take no for an answer, and kidnaps her anyway, launching her into a world of utmost danger—and urgent purpose.
Ruled by unpredictable gods and unstable nations, Tandara is a land of shapeshifters and weather-workers, queens and legends. Ravenous monsters and greedy bounty hunters patrol unforgiving mountains. Riverboats pulled by sea-cattle trade down broad waterways. And creatures of nightmare stalk Raine herself, vicious in the pursuit of her blood.
But Raine isn’t helpless or alone. She’s part of a band as resourceful as it is odd: a mage-shy warrior, a tattered wizard, a tenderhearted giant, and a prickly troll sorceress. Her new friends swear she has powers of her own. If she can stay under their protection, she might just live long enough to find out . . .
Alexandra Rushe was born in South Alabama, and grew up climbing trees, searching for sprites and fairies in the nearby woods, and dreaming of other worlds. The daughter of an English teacher and a small-town judge, Rushe developed a love of reading early on, and haunted the school and local libraries, devouring fairy tales, myths, and tales of adventure. In the seventh grade, she stumbled across a worn copy of The Hobbit, and was forever changed. She loves fantasy and paranormal, but only between the pages of a book—the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz give her the creeps, and she eschews horror movies. A psychic friend once proclaimed the linen closet in Rushe’s bedroom a portal to another dimension, and she hasn’t slept well since. Rushe is a world-class chicken.
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