IN THE COMPANY OF THE DEAD Cover Reveal from author Ciara Ballintyne

IN THE COMPANY OF THE DEAD Cover Reveal

We are pleased to present the cover art for upcoming epic fantasy, In the Company of the Dead.

Genre: Epic Fantasy/Romantic Fantasy

Release Date: 25 April 2016

Credit is due to the cover artist, Sam Keiser.

About the Book

Only a fool crosses a god, but Ellaeva and Lyram will do anything to get what they want.

Chosen as a five year old orphan to be the Left Hand of Death, Ellaeva has nothing to call her own—nothing except a desire to avenge her murdered parents. Her duties leave her no time to pursue the man responsible, until both her work and revenge lead to the same place—the lonely castle where Lyram Aharris is serving out his exile for striking his prince.

Lyram is third in line for the throne, and when the castle is unexpectedly besieged, he fears his prince means to remove him from contention for the crown permanently. Ellaeva’s arrival brings hope, until she reveals she has not come for the siege, but instead she hunts the castle for a hidden necromancer dedicated to the dark god of decay.

Within their stone prison, Ellaeva and Lyram must fight to save themselves from political machinations and clashing gods. But as the siege lengthens, the greatest threat comes from an unexpected quarter.

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About the Author

Ciara Ballintyne grew up on a steady diet of adult epic fantasy from the age of nine, leaving her with a rather confused outlook on life – she believes the good guys should always win, but knows they often don’t. She is an oxymoron; an idealistic cynic.

She began her first attempts at the craft of writing in 1992, culminating in the publication of her debut work, Confronting the Demon, in 2013. Her first book to be published with Evolved Publishing is In the Company of the Dead.

She holds degrees in law and accounting, and is a practising financial services lawyer. In her spare time, she speculates about taking over the world – how hard can it really be? If she could be anything, she’d choose a dragon, but if she is honest she shares more in common with Dr. Gregory House of House M.D. – both the good and the bad. She is a browncoat, a saltgunner, a Whedonite, a Sherlockian, a Ringer and a Whovian… OK, most major geek fandoms. Her alignment is chaotic good. She is an INTJ.

Ciara lives in Sydney, Australia, with her husband, her two daughters, and a growing menagerie of animals that unfortunately includes no dragons.

Twitter: @CiaraBallintyne

Facebook: http://facebook.com/CiaraBallintyne

Website: http://ciaraballintyne.com

Excerpt from A Penny Saved a Murder Earned

Excerpt from A Penny Saved a Murder Earned available in kindle and paperback 

Chapter 1  - Bloody Shoes

“A penny saved is a penny earned” ~ Benjamin Franklin

The blood streaked across the floor, but he had carefully sidestepped it. Stupid bitch! She got what she deserved. How dare she defile his Angel’s property? He hadn’t left a trace...had he? No, he was too clever by half.

 “I didn’t spot you entering. Working late? You have an early opening tomorrow.” A voice he didn’t recognize interrupted his thoughts.

“Wait a minute, you aren’t the lady. Who are you? You shouldn’t be here,” the man continued clearly alarmed.

“You shouldn’t be here either,” the murderer insisted.

“You killed Megan. I’m telling.”

“This was something you shouldn’t be allowed to see.”

“I’m leaving. I didn’t notice anything,” the man lied, witnessing the blood.

“I’m sorry pal. Wrong place, wrong time!” the killer answered.

The homeless man ran dodging racks, finally deciding to hide behind some shelving. The killer ran after him, puzzled for a moment because he could see no trace of the homeless person. The murderer then laughed, as he realized how foolish the vagrant was being, his stench gave him away. He subdued the man with a Taser gun. Waiting seconds he then pulled him from his hiding place. Taking ties from within his pocket; he fastened the man’s arms and feet. Satisfied that the homeless person was now trussed up like a turkey, he smiled.

 “Please! I don’t want to die!” the man cried, visibly sweating and starting to shake.

The man tried to kick out his legs and arms but failed, “You’ve heard about fate? Well sorry but this is your fate, buddy!” the murderer explained.

“Please! Couldn’t you let me go? I won’t tell! I’ll move to another city. Besides who would listen to a homeless man?”

“Someone would. My Angel would.”

The homeless man then smiled as if to gain trust from this killer, “You won’t hurt the lady who owns the store, will you?” he asked.

“I would never harm my Angel. How dare you?” the killer responded outraged.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to insult you! Please just let me go....”

“What is your name?”

“My name is Al.”

The killer put his gloves back on and smoothed them and then turned his back on his victim.

“You’re going to kill me now. Aren’t you? Just don’t harm the sweet lady who owns this store. Will it hurt?” the man asked resigned.

“I would never hurt my Angel. She is sweet isn’t she? Unfortunately that makes unscrupulous people take advantage of her.”

“I promise I would never take advantage of her kindness.”

“I know you wouldn’t and it hurts me to do this. Tell you what though, I’ll make your death painless because I like you, Al,” the killer offered, feeling suddenly sorry for the man. Then he checked himself.

 Living on the streets was hell; maybe he was doing the guy a favour? Yes, of course he was. Taking a pill bottle out of his pocket and opening the dispenser, he placed some in a coffee cup he took from the sideboard.

Then he filled the cup with the tepid coffee from the coffee pot, stirring the pills in rapidly.

 “Please couldn’t you let me go? I won’t tell and I’ll watch over her when you’re not here.”

“Sorry, times up, Al. Here now, drink this coffee,” the assassin commanded placing the mug at Al’s lips.

 Al tried not to drink and spit some of the coffee out, but the assassin plugged his nose and the cup was soon empty.

 “Admit it Al, you had a crappy life. Just give in and go to the light. I hear good things wait there for people like you,” the killer stated.

Al tried to fight some more, but he soon found it was losing battle. Al’s breathing slowed as he slipped into a deep sleep and stopped breathing altogether. His age and living on the streets made the pills work fast.

Now what to do with the body? The killer thought. His Angel must not find this man here, bad enough he left Megan’s body here for his Angel to find. This man knew his Angel; she cared, so like her to look after the homeless. The dumpster of course! The day after tomorrow was garbage day. Covered in garbage no one would find Al.

©Sheilagh Lee January 9, 2016

Read more of this book by  purchasing at Amazon  Available at amzn.to/VuO44B

Happy New Year

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate

Merry Christmas

May your troubles be few and may you enjoy great company

Three Word Wednesday -Sean the Leprechaun~ A Christmas Story

I was going across some of my beloved mother's papers yesterday, (the first time since she died) and I found a surprising thing she too had written about the Christmas that stuck in my mind when I was young. I think it's my Christmas present from her and now you can read it.My story is included in my new paperback and e-book Visions of Sugarplums. http://amzn.to/1ROfgLL

In the story  she wrote of my imaginative nature;  she also included details I forgot.  It  did happen as she wrote them (in true fact I love her story)so I am going to give you another Christmas treat and post my mother's story for you. The only change to her writing? The Three Word Wednesday words included. The twist? It begins with a leprechaun. Yes, you read that right. Read on and enjoy. 

Three Word Wednesday -Sean the Leprechaun~ A Christmas Story

Savage, adjective: (of an animal or force of nature) fierce, violent, and uncontrolled, cruel and vicious; aggressively hostile, (chiefly in historical or literary contexts) primitive; uncivilized, (of a place) wild-looking and inhospitable; uncultivated, (of something bad or negative) very great; severe; noun: (chiefly in historical or literary contexts) a member of a people regarded as primitive and uncivilized, a brutal or vicious person; verb: (especially of a dog or wild animal) attack ferociously and maul, subject to a vicious verbal attack; criticize brutally.

Tense, adjective: (especially of a muscle or someone's body) stretched tight or rigid, (of a person) unable to relax because of nervousness, anxiety, or stimulation, (of a situation, event, etc.) causing or showing anxiety and nervousness; verb: become tense, typically through anxiety or nervousness, [with object] make (a muscle or one's body) tight or rigid.

Vengeful, adjective: seeking to harm someone in return for a perceived injury.

Sean the Leprechaun~ A Christmas Story

             Sean was leprechaun. Actually to be completely honest he was just a stuffed doll. He’d been in the family for years and the children had never been allowed to play with him. He was hung in the window by a safety pin through his hat. Because of the children’s love of fairy tales over the years many tales had been made about him consequently the children began to believe he was a real leprechaun. In appearance he was quite ugly; about twelve inches tall; had long spindly legs, a sharp pointed nose and a tense disfigured face that had aged and discoloured to an ugly mahogany.

         For some unknown reason every time something bad was going to happen we would find him turned inward. I always blamed it on air currents but the children insisted he was warning us and that the pin hurt. Sean had tried to warn us when we travelled out to British Columbia that something was wrong by turning around in the car window and then we’d blown a tire. After that he also turned around when the car almost went over a cliff. My oldest son joked that the leprechaun was vengeful and the younger kids believed him.

            My husband insisted that the leprechaun wasn’t warning us Sean wasn’t vengeful or a savage, but a doll. That the tire had just blown and he’d made a mistake in geography getting too close to a cliff; but my young daughter, Sheilagh as she said her prayers that night said ...”and please tell Sean will get him a new suit if the car doesn’t break anymore.”

She then said to me. “We can, can’t we Mommy?” I reassured her we could; then realized he was faded. I promptly forgot about it.

                 Over the next few months we settled in and Sean was installed in the front window with a beautiful view of the mountains but he insisted on facing in. nothing went right the job my husband was offered caused allergic reactions and asthmatic attacks and then the old injury that had caused us to relocate reared again and my husband was hospitalized.

               During a family conference I explained how there wouldn’t be expensive presents and my oldest daughter blurted out to the younger ones there was no Santa and I had to admit that was true. My youngest daughter insisted with the surety of youth a child there was a Santa. That in fact she believed Daddy was sick because I hadn’t made Sean the suit I promised him and then of course she started crying about not getting a Chatty Cathy. She finished all of this with tears flowing down her face.

           The next day I took Sean down from the window and searching throw my scrap cloth and wool box. I found enough to make a new suit.

When the children came home from school they noticed right away that Sean was missing. Wanting to surprise them I told them Santa’s elves had the flu and Sean had gone to help him in return for a new Christmas suit. This made them happy and reaffirmed their belief in Santa. Even though they somehow understood even Santa didn’t have a lot of money either. They not only accept this idea but demanded bedtime stories of Sean and Santa.

         That Saturday I turned on a Santa television program for them and imagine my surprise when I heard Santa say,” All my elves are down with the flu and my friend Sean has come to help me.”

The camera panned to a doll that was the spitting imagine of Sean.

Muttering “I don’t believe it I went upstairs to look for Sean in my scrap basket. I took everything out piece by piece but I couldn’t find Sean. Following a sleepless night after sending the children to school I wondered where I could have lost him. I searched again and found Sean under a sock that needed darning. How I missed him the first second and gazillion time I don’t know.

         The next day my husband was released from the hospital came home and getting a licence shot a deer for Christmas dinner even though it hurt him to kill such a magnificent animal. We were happier. there was food for Christmas dinner.

Christmas morning Sean was back where he belonged in the window facing out, in his brand new suit. The doorbell rang at five a.m. and I found gaily wrapped presents outside the front door with the children’s names on them.  There had been a light snowfall overnight but the only tracks were hoof prints and two straight lines like those of a sleigh.

         We all stammered “What? Where? Why? How?”, as we looked  at each other in wonderment at the lack of human footprints and the two long lines where something big had rested.

The parcels were opened and to sounds of delight as it revealed a Chatty Cathy doll cuddled tightly, a pair of figure skates, a Bowie knife and a make-up mirror, a large toy crane and a model airplane.

         I found out later that the toys were supplied by an elderly lady who befriended the neighbourhood children and who had given all the children a Christmas party’ but neither she, nor anyone else could explain the lack of human footprints. Sheilagh was sure that she was Mrs. Santa Claus and had brought Sean back with her and the presents.

        Was Sean really a magical leprechaun? I am no longer sure. some things maybe coincidence but others have no explanation . The only thing I’m sure of its that it was the best Christmas ever.

THE END

I hope you enjoyed my mother's story.  My daughter now has Sean and has promised him another new suit not bad since his last one was so long ago.

Merry Christmas!! Happy Holidays!!

Whatever you celebrate enjoy. I’ll be back here to my blog on December 30th.

Dreams Can Kill & Visions of Sugarplums now available in paperback

Celebrate the season with a paperback book for  a gift or for you

My books Visions of Sugarplums 



http://amzn.to/1ROfgLL


& Dreams Can Kill


http://amzn.to/1m2DEgs

Are now available in ebook and paperback

HappyThanksgiving To All My America followers and friends