Welcome to one of the many stops on the book blitz for Call of the Huntress by Stacy Bennett, organized by XPresso Book Tours. Look for others participating in this blitz across social media and on your favourite bookish blogs May 11-15. #iReadFantasy #Fantasy #stacybennett #CorthanLegacy #BookWorm #XpressoTours
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About the Book
Call of the Huntress
Corthan Legacy Book Two
by Stacy Bennett
Published 11 May 2021
Miramae Press
Genre: Fantasy
Page Count: 365
Add it to your Goodreads TBR!
A soul half-healed, a huntress caged, a soldier reborn. Three lives scarred by battle, scattered by death, and shadowed by spirits. But Fate’s call will not be denied.
Captain Khoury has more lives than a cat. But when he wakes in Seal Bay to find Cara and Falin gone, his promises to them haunt him as surely as Sidonius’s hands around his throat. Regardless of the vengeful spirit’s threats, he knows where his destiny lies.
Cara’s soul is not fully healed and her magic is damaged, leaving her even more vulnerable than before. Although finally free of Sidonius, she discovers that sharing a mind is like being a prisoner all over again and someone else holds the key.
Falin knew a sacrifice was needed, knew it should be her. But instead of dying, she finds herself trapped in a life she no longer owns. Her rebellious will cannot surrender and she pins all her hopes on a ghostly ancestor’s shady deal.
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Excerpt
The aroma of burning herbs tickled Cara’s nose, drawing her toward wakefulness. Her side ached with a deep throbbing: her penance for yesterday’s outburst. And then there was Falin’s sullen presence lurking at the back of her mind.
Cara sighed. Already she missed the silence of unity.
She frowned. No, it wasn’t the silence she missed. It was the confidence. Even when she’d been unsure of what to do next, she hadn’t argued with herself or felt guilt or shame about whatever decision she made. She had just picked a direction and gone in it.
If only it could always be like that, she thought and sighed again.
She pushed that desire down, opened her eyes, and turned her attention to the room around her. She recognized the priestess’s hall. The air was slightly smoky and still cool from the night.
Sorchia murmured morning prayers nearby. The huntress in her knew them well. The cadence and timbre of the priestess’s voice danced with comforting predictability and Cara found herself whispering along under her breath, despite never having learned the words. The litany soothed her. She let her eyes close again, her mind resting in a kind of trance.
That was when she heard the whispers, voices like the ones that had greeted them at Foresthaven’s edge just yesterday. She listened closely and realized they chanted a syncopated counterpoint to the high priestess’s prayer. As if the two parts were meant to be one, the whispers filled in Sorchia’s pauses with a harmony even Falin had never heard before.
Cara barely noticed how she hummed along under her breath, both the high priestess’s part and occasionally the harmony part as if she knew the full prayer. As the litany continued, the energy in the room increased, filling the space as if a fog of magic gathered along the floor, deepening with every phrase. Cara let her mind go slack, mesmerized by the sounds and the powerful presence that lifted the hair on her arms. It didn’t feel like a ghost, at least, not like the ones at the Standing Stones. But she sensed personality and intelligence. And affection.
The air felt sweeter, cooler, fresher, and Cara delighted in it. Her head started to feel light as if she’d had too much wine. She wanted to bathe in the feel of it, drink it in, suddenly thirsty for whatever made the air so different.
It was magic, of course. But she’d never felt magic like this. This wasn’t just raw power. It had presence. It was Sorchia’s ancestors. And it dawned on Cara that, like Bradan, Sorchia was never truly alone.
Cara envied her that.
Still, there was a certain belonging for Cara herself here, basking in the Mothers’ energy. She could feel it. The energy and rhythms emptied her mind and after a while, she didn’t even feel the rise and fall of her own breaths.
That was when the presence noticed her.
A chill shot through Cara as she felt ghostly eyes upon her. Suddenly shy, she squeezed her eyes tight shut and shallowed her breathing, trying to make herself small, trying to hide.
But it was too late. The magic moved in currents through the space, gathering around her, its curious attention feeling like so many moths flitting against her skin. She had expected suspicion and scorn but the energy she felt was welcoming. The whispers seemed to say they were glad she was here—despite the lack of welcome at the Thorns.
Cara felt her healing power stir weakly inside her. It seemed to reach out to the power in the room and she noticed an unexpected resonance between that inner nature and the voices on the wind. It felt as if she and they were the same kind of creature.
It was ridiculous, of course. She and Falin hadn’t been born in Foresthaven.
The feeling of sameness persisted though and Cara couldn’t deny how that power pressing against her mind drew her to it.
About the Author
A born and bred Jersey girl, Stacy eagerly left the Garden State for college, as was the family tradition. And after graduating from University of Pennsylvania with a psychology degree, she married a Marine and soon developed a distinct fondness for travel, U-Hauls and Southern hospitality. She returned to Jersey after a decade of that nomadic life with two children, a slight addiction to coffee and a hunger to create something of her own.
She still lives in New Jersey with a neurotic dog and a queenly cat. Even in the hectic wilds of suburbia, she manages to find time to wander the wooded trails and sandy beaches that soothe the soul. Her favorite things are furry four-legged critters, hot coffee and books that make you forget where you are.
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