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Friday, September 11, 2015

Exclusive excerpt from The Frey Saga Box Set by Melissa Wright plus $30 Amazon GC/Books Giveaway

September 9th: Spindle by W.R. Gingell at Mythical Books - "What If..." Guest Post
September 10th: Servant of the Crown by Melissa McShane at Brooke Blogs - Exclusive Excerpt 
September 11th: The Frey Saga by Melissa Wright at Beck Valley Books - Exclusive Excerpt & Sneak Peek for book four
September 13th: Grand Finale

This collection includes The Frey Saga Book I: Frey, Book II: Pieces of Eight, the short story Molly, and Book III: Rise of the Seven 

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Book I: Frey

Unaware she's been bound from using magic, Frey leads a small, miserable life in the village where she's sent after the death of her mother. But a tiny spark starts a fury of changes and she finds herself running from everything she's ever known. Hunted by council for practicing dark magic, she is certain she's been wrongfully accused. She flees, and is forced to rely on strangers for protection. But the farther she strays from home, the more her magic and forgotten memories return and she begins to suspect all is not as it seems.

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Exclusive Excerpt from book I, Frey:
I woke gasping from another dream of my mother and destruction. The rain had stopped, and the sun was rising, so I wiped the sweat from my brow and went to the hall pitcher to splash my face. The dark roots of my hair were stark in the mirror’s reflection, and I recalled the dream. The memories of my mother were fuzzy, but I’d always thought she’d had light hair, beautiful and golden like Junnie’s. In the dreams, it was black… as black as the roots of my hair were now.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the darkness, and then spun as I made another stupid, rash decision. Slinking past Fannie’s room, I headed for her makeshift vault. She kept all the things I wasn’t allowed to touch in that room; it was supposed to be off limits. Not that I’d bothered trying much, because there was a large flat stone—covering where it hid in the floor—that I’d never been able to move. But that was before.
I wasn’t sure how the magic had worked with the bird, but I knew it had, so I dropped to my knees, held my hands above the stone, and closed my eyes, concentrating with everything I had. Nothing happened right away, and my mind wandered a bit with thoughts of what might be inside, how I wanted to see and needed to touch my family heirlooms. The things that belonged to my mother.
The stone lid scraped across the floor as it shifted.
It didn’t go far, but I hadn’t needed much. I reached down and drew out a small leather pouch, its bronzed decorations weathered and worn. I laid it aside, reaching back in. My fingers closed around a tube, probably a scroll case. I had started to take it out when I heard the wheezing growl behind me. I froze.
The stream of profanities that followed was long and harsh; part sounded like it was in another tongue. I released the tube and turned slowly toward Fannie. She was livid, red-faced and shaking. She stepped toward me, and I slid the pouch that lay against my leg behind my sash. She didn’t seem to notice.
The blow was quick, and I hadn’t seen it coming. My head turned with the contact, whipping back toward her before I had a chance to rein in the shock and anger. Fannie’s eyes lit with anticipation. Like she wanted me to fight back.
I had never even talked back to Fannie. I didn’t have the size to fight her, let alone the magic. And she was conniving. When I’d first come to live with her she had sent me to Council repeatedly, complaining of my behavior. I had undergone hours of “evaluations” under the scrutiny of Council members. Exams and trials and endless questions. Black blots on parchment that made abstract shapes. “What do you see, Elfreda?” I knew what they wanted to hear—butterfly and flower species. But I was so resentful toward Fannie for putting me there, I usually saw a black blob of death consuming her. “A Monarch,” I’d say.
She looked beyond me at the few inches of open floor, and I took the opportunity to bolt past her down the hall, straight out the door at full speed. I ran from the house, ignoring the paths; other elves would be no help to me. I kept running until I was certain she wasn’t coming, and then I collapsed at the edge of a meadow, breathless. I dropped my face into my hands, and might have wept if I’d not been so fueled by fear and adrenaline.
“Freya?” a soft voice asked.
I looked up, startled. Chevelle stood just in front of me. He dropped to his knees and reached out to touch the mark across my cheek. Shame flooded me, and I turned my head to hide the evidence, but his hand cradled the side of my face.

Book II: Pieces of Eight

After revealing her own dark past, Frey is forced to join with a group of strangers whose pasts seem to intertwine with her own. She struggles to regain her memories, her full power, only to find there is more danger on the other side. And now, there is no turning back.

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Book II: Pieces of Eight, the short story Molly

Molly dreamed her whole life of living in a world of magic... until the day she walked into one. This short story falls between The Frey Saga Book Two: Pieces of Eight and the third book, Rise of The Seven.

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Book III: Rise of the Seven

As Frey works to regain control of the North, a small silver dagger nearly brings her end. She raises her guard and proves her abilities, but another attempt on her life, from what appears to be fey, reveals not all are pleased with her return. If she could only figure out the force behind the attacks, she might be able to relax enough to decide what to do about her other problem... Chevelle. 

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And now for an exclusive sneak peek of book IV, Venom and Steel:
The library was chaos. Books and pages, precious scrolls and ancient casting ledgers strewn over the wood plank floor. I’d never seen this room molested by their madness and the shock of it had me stumbling to a standstill. They had lost all regard for it, broken their own rules. They were a wild people, but they did have at least some barriers.
If there was one thing the fey respected, it was knowledge.
Fire lit the stone before me, orange spikes of heat that licked at my boots. There was ice behind me, and the peal of Grey’s blade. Smoke and the stench of sulfur filled the room, mingling with burned flesh, singed hair, and the sweetness of ripe summer fruit. Something sticky dripped from the ceiling to land on my arm, but I didn’t look up. I didn’t move. All I could see was Steed’s prone form on the shattered bits of wood that was once a mahogany table. A high fey stood before him, his liquid gold eyes shining in challenge as they met mine.

About the Author 
Melissa Wright is the author of the Frey Saga and Descendants Series. She is currently working on the next book, but when not writing can be found collecting the things she loves at Goodreads and Pinterest.
Find the author on the following sites...

Giveaway Time !!
$30 Amazon Gift Card
Signed copy of Spindle
Print copy of Servant of the Crown
Ebook of the Frey Saga
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sharon x

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  1. Really enjoyed reading the entire post, thank you!

  2. These books sound great and their covers are amazing!

  3. I love the cover! The sword is very powerful.

  4. These books sound really good. I love the detailed descriptions of the environment the characters are in so you can picture yourself there.

  5. These books sound so intriguing - never heard of any of them so it's nice to have lots of new ones to add to my list of books to read!

    Beth x

  6. This sounds like a great read, thank you for sharing.


Always lovely to hear your comments xx

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