Welcome back. This is Ran, Sarn’s son. We star in the Curse Breaker series, and today, it is my pleasure to introduce Robin to you. She’s our newest heroine, and she’ll be expanding our universe. 🙂
Robin lives in the same country as Papa and I. We’re actually contemporaries, so we can do fun things like crossovers! In fact, Robin’s debut book, Hunter’s Night, is a crossover. Papa and I feature within!
You can grab Hunter’s Night now for 99 cents, and get 24 books with it by pre-ordering Rogue Skies. ***Rogue Skies will ONLY be 99 cents until Sept. 21. If you grab a copy now, you can also get Rogues Gallery for free with proof of purchase (a screen shot will do).
We had planned to a longer intro, but our Scribe was clipped by car while walking to work on Thursday morning, and her hand is hurting. The motorist apologized and called for help. He stayed until the police arrived and took his info.
Melinda is ok, just bruised and in pain, but nothing is broken. If you’re on the road today, please check the crosswalk for pedestrians before you make a turn. Pedestrians are fragile. And now without any further ado, it is my great pleasure to bring you a special presentation.
But first, we’d like to reveal the brand-new cover for Hunter’s Night:
A Robin of Larkspur Novel
Warrior. Mother. She was both now, but could she continue to be? Robin pondered that as she ignored the snores of her tentmate. Outside, night fell, and snow too, but she was warm enough under three blankets.
Robin turned the broken arrow over and listened to the wind whistling through the nearby mountain pass as she ran her finger along the crack in the arrow’s shaft. Three months ago, she’d given birth to the healthy baby girl asleep in the wicker bassinet to her left. But she still felt like this arrow—broken inside.
End over end, the arrow spun in her hands. Maybe ‘broken’ was the wrong word. ‘Changed’ might be more apt. Giving birth had changed her body, making it curvier and fuller in places than before. It had also forced her to face the grim reality of her future as a new mother with no prospects. Sure, Robin had a bow and could outshoot most Rangers, but that wouldn’t put a roof over her daughter’s head, not when a stupid law controlled the number of Rangers a settlement could hire.
The last rejection she’d received echoed in her mind as Robin twirled the arrow around her index finger. “Sorry, lass, we’ve got no room for anyone else on the roster,” the hatchet-faced lieutenant had told her four days ago.
But he’d let her pitch a tent outside the Ranger’s barracks while she’d tried to figure out where to go next. Can’t have a woman and her baby sleep on a bunk in a house full of men. No, sir, that just wouldn’t be seemly. So, Robin had lit out of that forgotten town the next morning without a thought for the weather.
She aimed for a spot well away from her baby and her still snoring tentmate and threw the broken arrow into the darkness. Strella was out cold from the grueling hike up the mountainside, which had become a desperate scramble over icy rocks as the storm raging outside had closed in on them. Robin was just as exhausted, but her mind refused to quiet down and let her sleep, so she stared into the darkness again consumed by worry.
Would Mount Eredren be any different? It was perhaps another two days’ hike depending on the conditions of the trail, and what mother nature had in store for her tomorrow. Mount Eredren was also the next closest settlement and far larger than the two she’d already tried.
“Will they have a place for me, or will they be just as full-up as the last one?” Robin asked aloud even though only her baby was listening. As she shifted on her pallet, that question hung there in the darkness, tormenting her.
Robin rubbed her aching breasts through her red leather brigandine. Though calling the uncomfortably cold thing she lay on a ‘pallet’ was a misnomer. Handfuls of pine needles and leaves on frozen ground with a couple of blankets thrown over them hardly counted as a fit surface for sleeping. But it was the only accommodation available this deep in the hinterlands.
Rosalie whimpered in her sleep, reminding Robin she wasn’t alone in her discomfort.
“I know, girl. This was a bad idea. I should have toughed it out until spring.” Robin sighed and pushed away that regret. It couldn’t warm her or her baby.
Outside, the wind howled as it buffeted the tent again. The storm must be intensifying. But the tent’s construction was sound enough to withstand its onslaught. Thank all that was holy for that small mercy. In the silence between gusts, snow blanketed the precipice and covered the trail she’d hike tomorrow.
“I really must start thinking instead of reacting. A little forethought could have landed us in a much better position.” But her gut had told Robin to grab her daughter and go, and she hadn’t questioned it. Maybe she should have.
Rosalie grunted seemingly in agreement even though she was too young to understand. She was probably just responding to the tone of her voice. Robin wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision.
At twenty, she was a single mother with no home, no job, and nothing to her name but the baby listening to her rant and the rucksack under her head. A tear squeezed out before she could stop it. She wanted to scream, but Rosalie beat her to it.
Robin snapped out of her funk into full-mother mode. She might have screwed up their lives for the time being, but she would be the best damned mother despite that.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart, Mama’s here. I’ll fix whatever’s wrong. I promise.” Robin swiped another tear from her eyes and levered herself up but stopped halfway when a cold, hard object touched her throat. “What the—”
A knife resolved out of the shadows and above it, two startlingly bright eyes that seemed to glow a soft green. They seemed to float in the darkness above Robin. Watery light crept into the tent, revealing the rest of the intruder, and she was definitely not human.
Robin wanted to kick herself for not hearing the strange creature’s approach. That’s what she got for letting her insecurities out to play when she should have been on guard. Damn it; she was the daughter of a Ranger. This bitch should not have gotten the drop on her or her tentmate, but she had, and Strella was still dead asleep. If Rosalie’s scream hadn’t even woken her, would Robin’s?
Probably not and the idea of screaming for help like she was some waif in need of a rescue galled Robin. Her pride wouldn’t allow it as she matched stares with the intruder, who was not as solidly built as she was. If she could just get her hands on a knife… Robin hid a smile as a plan formed.
“Don’t move,” The green-eyed creature said.
To be continued next week. Get Hunter’s Night now.
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