Winter Wolf
Rj Blain
November 24, 2014
Book
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About The Book
Title: Winter Wolf
Author: RJ Blain
Genre: Urban Fantasy / Thriller / Supernatural Suspense
Publisher: Pen & Page Publishing
Publication Date: November 24, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-928148-00-5
Book Description:
The Hunted Wizard
When Nicole dabbled in the occult, she lost it all: Her voice,
her family, and her name. Now on the run from the Inquisition, she must prove
to herself—and the world—that not all wizards are too dangerous to let live.
The savage murder of a bookstore employee throws Nicole into the
middle of Inquisition business, like it or not. Driven by her inability to save
the young man’s life, she decides to hunt the killer on her own. Using
forbidden magic to investigate the past, she learns that the murderer is in
fact a disease that could kill the entire werewolf race.
Forced to choose between saving lives and preserving her own,
Nicole embraces the magic that sent her into exile. Without werewolves, the
power of the Inquisition would dwindle, and she could live without being
hunted.
Nicole’s only hope for success lies in the hands of the
werewolves she hates and the Inquisition she fears, but finding someone to
trust is only the beginning of her problems. There are those who want to ensure
that the werewolves go extinct and that the Inquisition falls.
But, if she fails to find a cure, her family—including her twin
sister—will perish…
Book Excerpt:
Almost everyone in the store had a phone. Dormant devices, from
reading lights to mobile chargers, littered the tables. One woman, browsing
books nearby, had four battery-powered devices in her purse. One was a phone,
and like mine, it hungered. Its need was strong; its battery waned to the point
of failure.
If I wanted, I could charge it for her.
No one would notice if I did. Maybe the woman would wonder how
her phone hadn’t died before she got home. It only had a few minutes left. It’d
take me all of ten seconds to fix it for her. If I did, I wouldn’t be so aware
of it. But to do so, I’d have to touch her—or her phone. Some things I could
manipulate without having a direct conduit, but cell phone batteries were
tricky, greedy things.
I cringed a little, setting the thriller book down. I picked up
the next nearest title. I flipped it over, not reading the text on the back.
Did I dare? Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the woman browsing through
the books. All it would take was a few seconds. I could charge it without her
noticing.
That was one thing I was actually good at.
I put the novel I held down and wandered to the same table,
careful not to look at her. Book by book, I investigated the titles, circling
to where she stood.
“You’re Nicole Thomas, aren’t you? The actress. You’re her.” My
quarry appraised me with a pleased expression.
People normally recognized the mainliners, people with beautiful
faces and voices to match, people who didn’t avoid crowds.
In short, people other than me.
I met her gaze, abandoning my perusal of novels. “I am,” I
replied, wincing a little at the sandpaper-rough quality of my voice. At least
I hadn’t been reduced to a whisper—yet. My fatal flaw was my rough, grating
voice. Chronic laryngitis did that to a person. It ruined careers, as it had
mine, though I hadn’t quite given up on being an actress. I’d already lost the
ability to sing.
I wasn’t going to let a stupid disease take everything away from
me.
The woman smiled, not seeming to mind talking to someone who
sounded more like a zombie than a human. “You’re taller than I expected. It’s a
pleasure to meet you.”
She thrust out her hand.
We shook.
I left her phone alone.
“They keep putting me next to giants,” I quipped. It was true.
When I did manage to get on the silver screen, I worked alongside actors easily
a foot-and-a-half taller than me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” I matched
her smile. She didn’t tell me her name, and I didn’t ask for it.
It took all of my will not to fiddle with her phone. All it
would take was a murmured word and a thought, and it’d be done. It would have
been easy to charge the battery when our hands had been clasped together, but I
hadn’t dared.
If, sometime later, she noticed her phone had magically been
charged—literally—she might remember me. She knew my name.
And in true cowardice, I couldn’t bring myself to help her. If
she connected the strange behavior of her phone with me, she might tell
someone. If she did, I’d be as good as dead—or worse. I had dabbled in the
occult, and the occult had dabbled back, and there were those who didn’t like
when that happened.
The last thing I needed was them finding me.
Purchase Book at:
About the Author
RJ
Blain suffers
from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to
pun without warning.
When
she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e
painter. In reality, she herds cats and a husband. She is currently on a quest
for a new warrior fish.
In
her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her
contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and
quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.
Favorite
Books & Series (In no particular order):
Anne
McCaffrey's Pern
Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar & Gryphon Series
Jim Butcher's Codex Alera & The Dresden Files
Brandon Sanderson's Elantris
Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega, Dragon Bones, & The Mercy Thompson series
Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time
Contact
RJ at:
Contest Giveaway
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