Showing posts with label Choices of Honor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Choices of Honor. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

Judgment of Honor (Goddess's Honor, Book 4) by Joyce Reynolds-Ward

Release date: January 23, 2020
Subgenre: Epic Fantasy

About Judgment of Honor: 

 

THE STAGE IS SET…LET THE GAMES BEGIN!

After defeating Waykemin’s Witches Council, Katerin Leader and Rekaré Kinslayer face new challenges. Waykemin’s overseas ally, Chatain, Emperor of Daran, has abducted Katerin’s daughter Witmara. A new threat arises from the East which requires Katerin’s attention, so it falls to Rekaré to aid Witmara—which supports Rekaré’s vow for vengeance upon Chatain.

Meanwhile, Chatain’s estranged half-sister Betsona aids Witmara’s escape, and encourages her to overthrow Chatain. When Rekaré arrives in Daran, Betsona helps her. But does Betsona intend to use Rekaré and Witmara to become Empress?

At the same time, the rift between the Seven Crowned Gods splinters beyond recovery. How do the actions of Rekaré, Katerin, and Witmara play into the war between the Gods?

Battles at the Nerean Gate and the Spring Festival in Daran decide the fates of Gods and humans…and things will never be the same.

 

Excerpt:

 

“BY THE GODDESS’S GOLD NECKLACE, how did Chatain’s forces capture my daughter?” Katerin ea Miteal, Leader of Medvara, dug her fingernails into the soft pine chair arms as she glared down at the shamefaced Council from her seat. It had taken her five days to get back to Medvara so she could learn just exactly what it was that had happened to Witmara. Five days. The need to know her daughter’s fate kept building once she had arrived in Medvare-the-city—and not one word had been said about her daughter. Five days.
Why won’t they tell me what happened?Granted, Witmara was almost eighteen and married to Toran, but…it was hard to be just the Leader and not mother as well.
She would have yelled, except that her cousin Rekaré, Medvara’s former leader, straightened up from slouching against one of the Great Hall’s support posts and shook her head at Katerin.
Maybe you should come back up front and return as Leader! Katerin thought rebelliously, scowling at her cousin.
Not that Rekaré would do that. She’d made her choice seven years ago. And after recent events in Waykemin, it was even less likely that she would return to the Leadership.
Katerin sighed and softened her grip on the chair. “Witmara should not have been so easily taken prisoner,” she said in a quieter tone. Rekaré nodded approval of her softer voice.
She resisted the temptation to rub her aching forehead. It wasn’t going to relieve the dull throbbing caused by three days travel on water—waterstruck, an ailment limited to sorcerers—and a fast, hard military campaign requiring her to wield far too much magic for—oh gods, she couldn’t remember the exact number of days since she’d ridden out with a small force to confront the Witches Council of Waykemin. Too many days had passed, filled with worry and sleepless nights. Not just about Witmara, but about Waykemin, and war with Chatain, Emperor of Daran, on the other side of the ocean—just how are we to fight an enemy overseas? But battling Waykemin had to be done, for the future of the lands of Varen. It was a first step toward confronting Chatain. He wasn’t going to stop meddling in Varenese politics. He’d manipulated Waykemin into that battle. He’d sent an apparent exile, Chiral, a distant Ralsem cousin, to destroy Rekare’s leadership of Medvara. It was possible he was organizing a larger invasion fleet than the one that had kidnapped Witmara even now, from what his projection had claimed in Waykemin.
More than Chatain, there was her worry about Rekaré.
Katerin let go of the chair and tapped her right fingers on the arms as no one responded. Rekaré resumed her slouch.
Am I really that frightening?She wouldn’t think so. Then again, if her face was as lined and grim as Rekaré’s, even without the red cap and cowl her cousin wore—that might be good reason for her Council to hesitate before answering.

 

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About Joyce Reynolds-Ward:

Joyce Reynolds-Ward is a speculative fiction writer who splits her time between Enterprise and Portland, Oregon. Her short stories have appeared in Children of a Different Sky, Steam. And Dragons, Tales from an Alien Campfire, River, How Beer Saved the World 1, Fantasy Scroll Magazine, and Trust and Treachery among others. Her books include Shadow Harvest, Alien Savvy, Netwalking Space, Pledges of Honor, Challenges of Honor, and Klone’s Stronghold. Joyce recently completed editing her first anthology, Pulling Up Stakes. Besides writing, Joyce enjoys reading, quilting, horses, skiing, and outdoor activities.


Website | Blog | Author Central

 

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

Choices of Honor (Goddess's Honor, Book 3) by Joyce Reynolds-Ward

Release date: August 22, 2019
Subgenre: Epic fantasy

About Choices of Honor:

 

Sometimes vangeance becomes more complicated than expected.

Avenging the death of co-Leader Inharise of the Two Nations appears straightforward at first for Katerin Leader and Rekaré Kinslayer. The curse that killed her points directly to the Witches Council of Waykemin. Therefore, they’re responsible. But as Katerin and Rekaré lead a small avenging force to Waykemin’s capital city of Formis, they discover that things are not quite as they seem.

At the same time, Waykemin’s overseas ally, Chatain, Emperor of Daran, sends an invading force that Katerin’s daughter Witmara must counter. But is Chatain’s sortie a distraction from the attack on Waykemin, or does it serve a deeper purpose? Katerin must choose between her daughter and the challenge that Waykemin presents—and hope she made the right choice.

 

Excerpt:

 

Something’s wrong. And what was worse, she couldn’t identify whatever it was.
Rekaré Kinslayer scowled into the tiny warming fire of dried grasses, dead sagebrush, and juniper twigs, looking for wisdom in the flickers of flame and finding none. Maybe it was the season that caused her worry as spring and winter fought for supremacy, the weather unsettled and raw, warm one day, bitter cold the next, the abrupt transitions that made the hair on her forearms prickle with uneasiness.
Except that today was a nice day. The fires her two tens of Mer Galad riders had kindled in this bare spot on the snow-covered ridge’s point were for the purpose of drying out gloves and preparing a hot drink for the noon meal more than the need for warmth. While lacy, scattered clouds occasionally diffused the early spring sun’s rays, that soft chill was only momentary. The short interruptions in sunlight weren’t enough to pause the tiny rivulets of snowmelt trickling from under the knee-high snowbanks under the rimrocks. Mud and not ice squished under her heels. The trill of a bluebird swooping overhead testified to the presence of enough bugs for it to feed.
So just another lovely early spring day on the sagebrush plateau. Except that worrisome tingle, which had grown to a cool tightness in her gut. Rekaré raised her head, tired of not finding answers in the flames. She inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrant smoke, working her fingers open and closed to help banish the chill. Nothing revealed itself in the clouds as she watched the sky, either.
There was nothing unusual about this trip, save that it was earlier in the season than she and Katerin usually met. So why did she have this nagging sense of wrongness that had been tugging at her all day? The land would not be talking to her. It wasn’t hers.
Maybe it was something amongst her people.
Except she knew how that discord felt from past experience. That wasn’t the source of her uneasiness. Senth and Deta would have sensed any dissonance as well and moved to deal with it before her fretfulness escalated this far. So not amongst her riders.
No. Whatever this was affected her and her alone. But what could it be?
She looked away from the fire to check the Mer Galad anyway, even though Senth and Deta were moving from fire to fire talking to their tens, joking and chuckling, and would report any issues to her soon. Brown-skinned peoples from the nations of Larij, Medvara, Keratil, the Two Nations of Keldara and Clenda, and Saubral mixed with the gray-skinned Saubral Shadowwalkers without worry. Twenty riders, male and female, just about in equal numbers. All wore the blood-red cap and cowl of the Mer Galad as they warmed themselves by the fires, some squatting like her, others standing.
Nothing out of line, certainly nothing that would fuel her uneasiness, not like it had been in the early days when it took her, Detaluna, and Sesenth to smooth out fights between riders of different nations.

 

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About Joyce Reynolds-Ward:

Joyce Reynolds-Ward is a speculative fiction writer who splits her time between Enterprise and Portland, Oregon. Her short stories have appeared in Children of a Different Sky, Steam. And Dragons, Tales from an Alien Campfire, River, How Beer Saved the World 1, Fantasy Scroll Magazine, and Trust and Treachery among others. Her books include Shadow Harvest, Alien Savvy, Netwalking Space, Pledges of Honor, Challenges of Honor, and Klone’s Stronghold. Joyce recently completed editing her first anthology, Pulling Up Stakes. Besides writing, Joyce enjoys reading, quilting, horses, skiing, and outdoor activities.


Website | Blog | Author Central