Tuesday 2 December 2014

Meet debut author Jen Corkhill

   
I am delighted to welcome Jen Corkill to my blog today. Jen describes herself as a stay at home geek in rural Nevada where she gardens, sews,paints, and weaves magic into the daily lives of her three beautiful children and amazing husband. Every day is a blessing. Sometimes, she even finds enough calm moments to write…sometimes. Her interests include Star Wars, Victorian Literature, Bioware, power metal, and enough coffee to float her to Helstone. You can find out more about Jen on her webpage: JenCorkill.com

Her new book, Seasons of Mist, is out very soon. Below is a blurb and an excerpt.

   
Justine Holloway prepares for her debut into society, compliments of her 
godparents, while the underworld of London groans with unfettered abhorrence. 
The Varius are refugees from a parallel universe who shift their form while 
others channel the forces of magic, an element that once flowed freely between 
both worlds. They seek refuge in Victorian London, hidden in the slums, easily 
forgotten until a human ends up incinerated or sucked dry. It is the job of the 
Council, created for the protection of humanity, to step in and eliminate the 
threat. 
What Justine does not realize is her godfather runs the Council right under the 
nose of polite society, much to the dismay of his genteel sister. Justine 
suspects something mysterious is brewing when the handsome Egyptian Ambassador 
heals before her eyes. It’s an image she can forget and a mystery she wants to 
solve. 
When a deadly vampire makes his devious intentions known, her survival might 
depend on this strange Egyptian. Unfortunately, he can’t figure out why he’s so 
drawn to her, or whether he must kill her to save humanity. 
Scroll down to read an excerpt.
 
 
A lanky man wearing the livery of a deckhand strode to the side of the captain’s 
cabin and peered into one of the portholes. He licked his lips and dug inside 
his pockets. At first, Justine contemplated going to her cabin but his gaze did 
not alter as he stood, eyes fixated on the room she’d just left.
            “Excuse me…can I help you?” Justine ventured. “Is there someone 
inside you wish to speak to? The captain perhaps?”
            The man did not respond. He acted as if she was invisible. Whatever 
drew him to the cabin smothered any sense of life or breath. Without looking 
down to see what he brought out of his pocket, Justine noticed a metal necklace, 
a medallion of sorts, clutched in his grasp. He brought the trinket to his face 
near the porthole glass, hot breath fogging the glass. His long fingers rubbed 
the shiny metal, twisting it this way and that as if ready to smash it through 
the window.
            “The Master said this’d find him…” His words came out in an elated 
whisper. The young man’s attention darted from the necklace to the window and 
back. He licked his lips again and finally blinked in rapid succession. Then, he 
smiled. The expression of delight brought a childlike innocence to his intense 
errand but it did not last. As before, he twitched, his hands trembling. “Why is 
it not working?”
Justine stepped back, fearing he’d throw the necklace to the floor in a rage. 
Snarling, saliva seething from his mouth, he beat the medallion. Was the man 
mad?
            “Excuse me?” Justine repeated. “Are you alright?”
            Whatever haze clouding the deckhands mind cleared. He jumped and 
stared at her, no doubt startled at her appearance. There was nothing between 
her and his pale eyes, so empty and devoid of color. It was as if she looked 
through a window into an empty room where nothing lived. Something vile animated 
his corpse, legs and arms moving towards her like a marionette. The railing was 
the only thing separating her from the frozen water below. Cold metal burned 
through her gloves. Justine shivered wishing she’d had run away when she had the 
chance. His breath brushed against her exposed skin, a putrid smell that made 
Justine feel compromised, unclean.
            “Stop…you’re frightening me,” Justine whined. Nothing wanted to 
move. Her legs turned to stone beneath her. All she could do was stand there, 
desperately wanting to get away, to put as much distance between herself and the 
vile creature as she could. He was close enough to reach out and wrap his hands 
around her throat.
            Oh God, please, let this not be Jack the Ripper. Justine had read 
the headlines of the murder stalking London.
            The deckhand never touched her, yet she still felt his body. “Tell 
him to fear me for I know his secret.”
            “Wh…what? What secret?”
            Raised voices echoed from the cabin. Shoving whatever necklace he 
held back into his jacket, the deckhand ran down the length of the deck and 
disappeared.
            Justine wasn’t quite sure what just happened. Had the man been 
speaking about someone in the cabin? Mr. Tinnen or the captain? Of course the 
easiest answer could easily have been the man was mad, but that did little to 
ease the panic. Her hands trembled and not from the cold. Justine grabbed the 
ends of her shawl and wrapped them tight around her. Every time she blinked, she 
saw his eyes burning into hers. She fled to her cabin and locked the door behind 
her. 

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