Wednesday, June 12, 2013

The Art of Safkhet Presents – Blood Myth
(The Myth Series)

Zakah Sange was born into a world of dark magick, always living in the shadows of his father, the Raka King. He was dangerously sexy and enigmatic; he used power and control to shape himself into a hard and cunning man. Zakah became a warrior, a weapon and the master of his own violence lurking within.

Sorina Ruzicka was the great granddaughter of the evil god Akhekh. She was born into a legacy of magickal gifts that she wanted no part of. After years touring as a blues singer she returned home where she only wanted the seclusion of the mountains. A chance meeting with the mysterious club owner forced Sorina into the battle of her life.

Can a willful witch, accept the controlling nature of a demon who demands submission? Trusts will be tested, lines will be crossed and a fate neither of them expected will be played out.

Author Bio

Stacy was born in West Virginia but now finds herself living in Texas. She has loved writing since the first grade when she completed her first book, The Land without Rules. Her mother will tell you it was a brilliant book.
Throughout her school years she was in journalism and has been an avid reader of all literature. She has always craved the feeling of discovering an author's world for the first time. Now she devotes her time to creating her own worlds. Stacy focuses mainly on paranormal romance and poetry. She loves creating dominant male characters and headstrong females for her books. 
Stacy now finds herself on a new journey and finally has taken the leap to go after her dreams. She recently finished a poetry book, Whispers in the Dark with two fellow authors and finished her first novel Blood Myth in her Myth Series.

3 Excerpts to choose from
Excerpt #1 word count 499
Outside her cottage, the wind rose and whirled fiendishly. Rain pelted at her windows. Sorina wrapped her arms around her up drawn knees, resting her head on them. She felt his emotions. She sensed his need and what he wanted her to understand, but she didn’t understand.
“Sorina.” Zakah made sure his voice was warm, sensual, caressing, velvety, and soothing. “Don’t try to understand, my little rabbit.” He could feel her anguish even though she tried to hide it with her stubborn chin and defiant eyes.
A shadow flickered from a candle. Her eyes followed the shadow. She gasped up at his tall, dark, well-muscled frame which appeared out of nowhere. Sorina stammered, looking up at him towering over her. “What are you doing here?”
She looked like a scared rabbit. He never felt regret or pity, but to know he was the cause of her fear broke his heart. Zakah couldn’t stop himself; he did something he had never done in all his long years. He wanted to give comfort, take away her fears. Zakah gathered her into his arms, imprisoning her against his hard chest. “Breathe, Sorina. It will help.”
She pushed against the wall of his chest. “Let go of me. I am not a child who needs to be cradled or spanked.” She emphasized the last word.
Zakah ignored her struggle to pull away from him. He held her close to his chest, his hand stroking over her back slowly. He buried her face in the wealth of her luxurious hair, breathing in the sweet scent of citrus.
Sorina found the strength to pull back from his embrace. “I saw you. I felt you when you were using that rod on that woman. You were imagining she was me.”  Her breath caught in her throat when he threaded his fingers through her hair. Zakah gripped her scalp in his strong hands, yanking her head back and the look in his eyes seared her to the bones.
He lowered his head, his mouth inches from her plump lips, so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. “Yes, I did imagine she was you. I wanted her to be you. I needed her to be you.”
Sorina was silent. She started to tremble in his arms. He knew his words were beginning to sink in. Zakah took in the sad shadows and fear lingering in her large, golden green eyes.
Her heart was pounding. “I want you to leave.” She pushed at the wall of his chest.
He merely tightened his hold on her. Zakah could not hide the bit of enjoyment he was getting from her struggle. “You do not want me to go, Sorina.”
“Yes, I want you to go, Zakah.”  His smug look of amusement infuriated her, making her work to keep her voice under control.
“You are safe with me, Sorina. I would not allow anyone or anything to harm you.”
She swallowed nervously, whispering defiantly, “Just you.”

Excerpt # 2 words 789
Zakah was not a fool; he knew the trail was too well marked. No one would be so obvious unless it was a trap. It did not matter, Tanerk had his female. He would go where the trail led. Tanerk was an ancient Raka, a species nearly immortal, and his părinte was their king. But, Zakah was a predator also, capable of becoming just as loathsome and dangerous as his ancestors.  He heard the same insidious whispers and felt the same hunger for power his părinte and other Raka did. Zakah also had the same incredible need to create pain, but he fought and controlled the violence clawing to get out of him every day. He had come close to giving into the calls of evil on more than one occasion. Ironically, Zakah’s need for control included his own internal demons.
He lifted his head to the sky and scanned his surroundings. Zakah took in the large area, discovering two other beings near. He maneuvered through the wooded area. Easily, he shifted through the branches, bushes, leaves, and darkness of the forest. He came to a clearing, and he saw the tall figure of Tanerk emerge from mist with Sergei Raka. Tanerk’s nephew stood a few feet behind his unchi.
The wind rushed through the grove of trees and dark clouds swirled into a boiling cauldron. Whips of white hot energy illuminated the midnight sky. The earth rumbled with the deep sound of thunder. Zakah smirked in his părinte’s direction. “No need to put on a show, Babac. A bit of a cliché, don’t you think?” He stood alert, his mind and body prepared for whatever Tanerk had planned.
“Discretion was never my thing, sonny boy. Why have power and magick if you do not flaunt it?” Tanerk shrugged casually.
Zakah looked over to his right. “Your minion can back off. I’m coming with you freely.” 
Tanerk threw his head back and laughed. The sick, menacing sound echoed through the forest. “I did not come to collect you. I came to kill you,” the elder Raka continued. “I have two Saka witches now. One is moments from giving herself freely, and the other, well,” his voice purred the words, “your little rabbit has been caught, and she will make a delicious feast.”
Zakah started for his Tanerk, but he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Sergei had made his way to Zakah’s left. He reacted quickly, jumping into the air; Zakah somersaulted through the sky and landed in front of an unmoving Tanerk. The leader of the Raka just looked at him, grinning. Abruptly, the trees caught fire; showers of hot embers fell, penetrating and engulfing Zakah in pain. The fiery cinders burrowed into his skin and drove their way into his blood.
Zakah knew he was in serious trouble, but he shoved the thought aside. He pushed off of the ground and burst through the air, shifting for the first time into his diavol form. Zakah’s fists tripled in size and led his dive from the sky toward Tanerk. He intended to smash through his părinte’s chest and rip out his evil heart, but Tanerk’s body had already turned to mist... Zakah’s fist passed through the Raka’s physique unharmed. He felt knife-like nails dive deep into his arm. Sergei had hurled himself onto Zakah’s back. Razor sharp talons sunk into his shoulder. He howled out from the pain. Zakah thrust the Raka off his back and dissolved into mist.
In his vapor state, he went straight for Tanerk, shifting at the last second back into his solid demonic form; his morphed hands went around his părinte’s throat. Tanerk hissed and transformed into his demon shape, retaliating with a swipe of his vicious claws at Zakah’s eyes. A brutal head-butt followed which allowed the Raka to free himself from his băiat’s grasp.
“I have a banquet of prime witch to feast upon.” Tanerk grinned and disappeared.
Zakah’s body was damaged and needed to begin repairing so he could find Sorina. He knew it was time to begin the retreat, but Sergei was still there. Zakah turned toward the Raka and started approaching him. The two men circled each other for a moment. Zakah watched Sergei jump into the air, so he mimicked his actions. The two of them collided. Zakah’s fist met Sergei’s face with a loud crack, starting their decent to the ground. Zakah grabbed his enemy’s body and threw him against a nearby tree.
Zakah lifted his hands to the heavens, summoning his inner power with a few ancient words and threw a bolt of lightning into Sergei’s chest. He repeated this over and over until there was nothing but ashes left on the ground.

Excerpt #3 words 744
There was an unexpected silence, everything stilled, and the Raka backed away, clearing a path. Tanerk had arrived. Their leader, their king joined the battle. It was hard not to be in awe of Tanerk, his ancient power radiated from him. His handsome face sneered, showing his disgust and contempt of not only the Saka but his Raka. “Pathetic, this is not finished yet?” Tanerk’s eyes glowed; he turned from Zakah and focused on Gavril.
His gaze fell on the Saka Guardian. “We meet again. You do not look well, Saka.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Gavril answered.
“I had hoped you would be here today.” Tanerk moved slowly toward Lilith. His harsh eyes never left Gavril’s.
Gavril pushed past a grouping of Raka, placing himself in front of his sora. “I’m thrilled I made your day.”
Tanerk lifted his head, taking in the sounds of his Raka hissing. “They are eager to kill you, Saka. They would fight one another for the honor of slaying the Guardian. Such power one must have to create such hatred. How does it feel to have so many despise your very existence?” The leader of the Raka’s lips curved into a cruel, sinister grin.
“You should know that feeling well.” Gavril’s voice was low but carried power and authority.
Tanerk smiled. “Oh, but you are wrong. Yes, the Saka hate my existence, but you the Saka Guardian, are hated even among your own kind. Why do you bother to protect a race who cannot even look you in the eye?”
Sorina’s breath caught in her throat. She knew Tanerk was a master manipulator and capable of finding one’s innermost hidden struggles. It was how he was able to turn the Saka; he worked on their doubts, their insecurities. Gavril would not be normal if he was not angry with his place in the Sabat or in this world. He protected the Saka and made the hard decisions in life to guard the innocent beings of the world. Her unchi fought and lived alone. He had no one to come home to. She didn’t remember him ever having a woman in his life or real friends.
Gavril knew his eyes blazed with hatred, stepping closer to Tanerk. The movement triggered a restless murmuring of the Raka, and they pressed forward until Tanerk held up his hand. The revulsion Gavril felt for Tanerk was so strong that he knew everyone could feel it. The need to kill Tanerk created an energy that felt like it was alive. The Raka King remained calm while Gavril was on the edge of violence.
“There will be no Saka left when I am finished. Your women will be the maiculeană of the new generation of Raka.” Tanerk licked his lips in anticipation. “Mmm, who should I start with, the supposed Queen of the Saka or the High Priestess?” He winked at Lilith. “Biankha wants you, Priestess; she has a score to settle.” He glanced at Nikolette briefly. “That one is almost ready, is she not, Guardian?”
Zakah glanced at Sorina. She stood beside Afina. Nikolette was behind them with Zampara at her side. Sorina let her thoughts carry to Zakah and the others. She prayed opening up her mind to them would not free her thoughts to Tanerk. I think I can break the shield and free our powers. Bunica, if you and Nikolette help, we can penetrate it faster.
The women all agreed and slowly moved closer to one another while Tanerk was focused on taunting Gavril. Sorina blocked out the rising fear and concentrated on the feel of the shield. It wasn’t much different from normal safeguards, but the spell had been warped for evil purposes. It was still just basic safeguards, and she knew this kind of magick. Nikolette was drawn to weapons and more physical training, while Sorina practiced witchery and the manipulation of spells in her youth. She spent days with her bunica, learning the art of spell casting and weaving magick. She held her palms up to feel the strength of the weave. Afina and Nikolette shielded Sorina from the Tanerk and his Raka in an effort to keep him from seeing what she was doing. Sorina’s hand moved gracefully as she felt the pattern of the barrier blocking their powers.
“Or shall I start with my băiat’s whore?” Tanerk smirked. 
NO!  Sorina shouted in Zakah’s head, but it was too late. He had already gripped the hilt of his sword and lunged at his părinte. He was severely handicapped without the use of his powers, but it did not stop him from going full force at Tanerk.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013


Cruentus: Rise to Power
Book 1, The Cruentus Series
By LS Broomfield

A prophecy of old continued to burn in the embers of time; long left dormant until the Cruentus family rose above all others as darkness ascended the lands. Greed and deception were the name of the game, and Arturo Cruentus would stop at nothing as he concocted the ultimate scheme to get everything he wanted. No price was too high. The scene was set, the pieces strategically placed. The Gallo family could not come against him, and in the end Guido and Palmiria Gallo would come out the biggest losers, watching their only daughter, Emiliana, be taken away to render a debt settled.

Young Emiliana Gallo, a victim of circumstance, was thrust into a world she did not understand and forced to marry a man she did not know. But what no one expected, not even Arturo, was that Emiliana and his son, Donato, would fall in love against all odds. For Arturo, love made one weak, but for his son, it was love at first sight. Donato became an opportunist in his father’s dirty schemes and did everything in his power to ensure the woman he admired for so long not only took his name in marriage, but also fell in love with him. Donato wanted it all, his gamble paid off richly, and he achieved both marriage and love. However, on the day they said ‘I do’ and the Cruentus and Gallo families were joined, Emiliana was ripped from their home like a thief in the night.

An unknown force too unsettled to let the vision spill and strengthen the Cruentus family decided to do the unthinkable—double-cross the Cruentus family. Rage and disdain fuelled Donato and Arturo. Though their reasons were very different-their goal unified them. They squared off with the leader of the Russian Coven to take back Emiliana, and in the end the Russian coven paid the highest price as the leader's blood was spilled in retribution for his crime at the hands of Arturo. News spread quickly to the Magia Council, and before long Arturo was called before them to answer for his crime of murder unjustly. The Ancients of the roundtable at Mount Blanc, the mountain range bordering Italy and France, was now enacted as they listened to the tale that had unfolded. Little did they know that they were a part of the grand scheme Arturo Cruentus shrewdly planned for the ultimate betrayal.

What’s Being Said:
Cruentus: Rise to Power is a unique read that will draw you in and take you places that you've never been before.  The characters are well written and engaging.  The combination of the late 1800s time period and the magical world in which the story takes place serves to make this story memorable and interesting.  I've never read something quite like this novella and I can't wait to see more from L.S. Broomfield in the future.
~Megan from Amethyst Daydreams

Rise to Power is the first part of the Cruentus Series. In many ways a prequel to the heart of the story, this novella packs quite a punch.  While classified as a paranormal romance, that label simply is not all-encompassing enough to truly define the story. It is far more than a romance, leading the reader through a course of love against all odds and a family’s quest for power. Ms. Broomfield wields her words much the way her warlocks wield their magic, creating a world that the the reader simply becomes immersed in. Her characters come to life on the page and in the reader’s imagination as the story plays out like a movie for the mind.  Through twists and turns, the plot is unpredictable and layered, and it will leave you wanting more. It is the perfect combination of love and magic, romance and peril, action and old-fashioned good vs. evil. Only this time you’ll be left wondering.... what is so sexy about the wickedly evil?
~Tevya from Reading Lark

Are you ready for a journey into the world of dark magic, blood contracts, and innocence taken for granted? Welcome to the world of author LS Broomfield in her novella, Cruentus: Rise to Power. A book you will definitely not want to put down, Rise to Power has power, greed, innocence, and magic. A page turner to the very end!!
~Mindy from Forbidden Reviews

What I think :

I loved this novella. L. S. Broomfield did a fantastic job of putting me into another world. You are taken back to a much earlier time with dark magic, kidnapping, and the need for power. In the middle of this dark story there is a beautiful romance. One that seems unlikely at first.  I highly recommend this book, and I'm sure you won't be dissapointed! Go check it out!! 

About the Author:

L.S. Broomfield lives in God’s country – Central Labrador, Canada. She wasn’t born there, but it’s where she and her family call home. Born and raised in Hawkes Bay, Newfoundland and Labrador, L.S. is  published author who is currently working on book two of the Cruentus series, a series of tales about the Cruentus family; namely, Dragos Cruentus, who who will make his appearance in the second book. She is full of talent and takes a fresh look on the paranormal world.

As a child, Lisa always wanted to write. She didn’t have any predilection of what to write, as long as she was writing – she was happy. She remembers growing up and traveling to Flower’s Cove to visit family and letting her imagination soar as the pen sketched across the paper. At such a young age, it was perhaps mostly incoherent thoughts tossed across the pages but still for all, it was a desire even then to write and tell a story.

As an adult, Lisa met an amazing group of individuals, and with their support and encouragement was brave enough to write and let people read the stories in her mind. While writing is one thing, allowing others to read the words one has spent hours putting to paper is entirely another thing. It opens the author wide to both praise and criticism. Lisa found it to be scary, yet wonderfully exciting.

Lisa has many people to thank for helping her to reach where she is today, but none of this would be possible without the support of her husband, Shawn, and her amazing kids, Brittany, Daniel, and Jacob. These people fill her world with color and make it worth writing – they enable her to do what she loves.

You can find L.S. Broomfield on her Blog, Facebook, and Twitter
You can find Cruentus: Rise to Power on Amazon
Excerpt 1
“Why don’t you don’t try to leave this place?” Donato asked, truly curious.
Emiliana looked straight ahead, continuing on their walk of the grounds. She wasn’t sure there was an answer that wouldn’t make her look weak; she opted for the truth.
“My papa did not teach me magic. He felt the lessons I was learning at the time were far more valuable than magic.”
“What lessons were those?” he countered, though what Emiliana had told him surprised him. Greatly. What warlock would ever deny their child of learning their heritage? It was unheard of.
“He taught me lessons of working to survive, of putting in an honest day’s work to have something to eat or a place to sleep. I bet I have used my hands more tilling our garden for food than you ever have.”
There were little moments like these when Donato could see the unstoked embers of Emiliana’s fire, and that was only in the few days that she had been with them. He wondered what she would be like had she received the magical teaching as she grew. Her father was an imbecile.
“It may well be true. Though, I have had the other extreme of that. I grew up not having to do anything for myself, other than magic. I wouldn’t change it, though, because magic is a part of me. It makes me whole.”
She stopped at an odd juncture, staring at the nestling of trees on the property. Though the moment was brief, it was like Emiliana was a million miles away.
“I have always been taught you cannot miss that which you did not have. I would change nothing of my life, except for the day I met you.”
Donato flinched. Her words sliced him deeply even if they were not intended to.
“Emiliana, neither of us can control why this came to be. Can you at least have an open mind about us?”
Did she have a choice? No, not really. With a soft dip of her head, golden locks fanned downward, concealing her face, she answered, “I’ll try.”
This was not how Donato planned to spend his day. He needed to make her see he was not just a rich kid.  A smile caused his cheeks to lift, eyes twinkling.
“If I had some flower seeds, would you show me how to plant and nurture them? I have wanted to surprise my mother with her favorite flower for a very long time, but I do not know the first thing about gardening.”
“Perhaps you should use your magic,” Emiliana countered.
Donato’s head shook. “I think it is time I get my hands dirty. Don’t you?”
With that, Emiliana could not help the smile that broke across her face. Looking up at him, she offered him an olive branch.
“If I teach you to garden, to grow your mother’s flowers, will you teach me how to do it by magic?”
His smile mirrored hers. After only three days he could see a smile, and he had caused it. He knew deep down, eventually she would love him.
“I would be most honoured.”

Excerpt 2
Donato was not about to back down against his father. Not this time. Not when it affected his female, Emiliana.
“I will not wed Em until I know she loves me!” His voice began rising in octaves. “You have stolen her right to choose a mate of her own...”
Arturo rose from his chair, leaned his palms on the mahogany desk, and looked hard at his son. Fury bubbled deep inside of him, but his appearance told no such tale.
“You seem to forget, my son, that you were right there carrying her out the door. You also seem to forget how you begged me to let you marry her.” A smirk tilted against the right side of his lips, but that only spurred his son on in the argument.
Donato stepped forward. “I may have been the one to carry her out, but my intentions with Emiliana are pure and nothing to do with forging blood lines and securing power!” he yelled out vehemently.
Arturo waved off his words as if they meant nothing. Well, to him they didn’t mean anything. Love? He scoffed to himself. He didn’t need love to be with his wife, and he certainly hadn’t needed love to have his son. It was an arrangement, and the rest carnal desire took care of. Love made men weak and weak was something Arturo Cruentus was not.
“She does not have a choice of whom, but I’ll be dammed if she doesn’t have a choice of when.”
Donato never spoke out of turn to his father, ever. He always had a fearful respect for him and his mother, Camilla, but Emiliana was not the only person experiencing change; his loving her was changing him too.
Though outwardly there was no change in his father’s expression or mannerisms, Arturo was angrier now than he had ever experienced. It was one thing for a random business acquaintance to try and issue demands, but his son? No, this simply would not do. It was not going to happen, not as long as the fires burned hot in the pits of hell.
He pulled back and stepped around his desk. “Now boy, you listen to me and you listen real carefully. You better remember respect, or I’ll beat it back into you!” His sneer was feral, his fists balled tightly at his sides. It was only then that he gave way to some of the anger he was feeling.
“For these last six months, I have been undoubtedly patient in your trek for love, but my patience has now run dry. You have until the night of the full moon to marry that peasant, Emiliana Gallo.  If you do not adhere to this warning, I will take her from you and sell her to another.”
Breath ceased in Donato’s body. For a moment he was stunned regarding the threat. His head shook side to side.
“You would not dare, father!”
“Wouldn’t I?” Arturo asked smugly. “My boy, you have no idea what I would dare to do. I assure you, you have not met the Arturo Cruentus that our magical world knows.”
Donato felt a stab of doubt at his father’s demand. Would he truly sell Emiliana, knowing his own son, blood of his blood, loved her? He truthfully did not know for certain either way, and because of that, he could not take a chance with Emiliana’s fate. He couldn’t take a chance of losing her to another.
He stepped back, defeated in his attempts of rising up against his father.
“Very well, father. You win. Just know that I will never aim to be like you or stand for anything you stand for. The only reason I agree to this is because I love her and will not have her fate in your hands any longer.”
Arturo laughed. “Donato, my boy, you are your father’s son and your grandfather’s grandson. No matter how much you would like to think you are are.” He stepped closer to his son, smile morphing into something shrewd, unnerving. “You are a Cruentus and darkness carries your steps – it is bred deep within.” He tapped his cheek and stepped back.

“You have six days, Donato, until the full moon. Do not test me; neither you nor Emiliana will like what happens when my hand is forced. Now go.”

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