So there I was, doing what I do best–namely, tossing out large chunks of my manuscript while my deadline looms–when my agent started sending out emails about promotional plans for THE BURNING SKY.
Lo and behold, we were suppose to reveal the cover this week. For some reason I thought that wouldn’t happen for another month or so, but I have no objection at all to getting it done this week.
And now, without further ado, the cover.
I am completely biased and think the cover is absolutely stunning. Probably going to blow this up into a huge poster at some point and hang it on my wall.
And since we have the cover, why not a mini-excerpt to go with it?
But even as she assessed her new surroundings, she felt herself similarly appraised. This was not new. Ever since they first met, the prince had watched her intensely—after all, he believed her to be the means to his impossible ends. But since their exit from the Crucible, his gaze had seemed more . . . personal.
“What do you want now, Your Highness?”
He raised a brow. “I already have you. Should I want anything else?”
She pushed away her empty plate. “You have that scheming look in your eyes.”
He turned the handle of his own coffee cup, from which he’d yet to take a sip. “That is terrible. I should only ever sport a condescending look. We never want to give the impression that I am capable of—or interested in—strategizing.”
“You’re fudging your answers, prince. I want the truth.”
The corners of his lips turned up barely perceptibly. “I was thinking of how to best hold on to you, my dear Fairfax who would leave me at the first opportunity.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Since when is a blood oath not enough to keep a mage enslaved?”
“You are right, of course. I should not doubt my own success.”
“Then why do you doubt your own success?”
He looked her in the eye. “Only because you are infinitely precious to me, Fairfax, and the loss of you would be devastating.”
He was speaking of her as a tool to be deployed against the Bane. She didn’t know why she should feel both a surge of heat and a ripple of pain in her heart.
She rose. “I’m finished here.”
Ah, I love it when the hero and the heroine start off on the wrong foot, don’t you? All that attraction+all that enmity=happy me.