A Hex Upon Rynia
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She wildly scanned the page, searching for additional information. Aunt Jean had died of cancer. What more could they tell her than that? Her eyes were clear and her breathing soft and steady, not a raspy death rattle. Now those initial concerns seemed grounded.
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The driver behind her laid on the horn. The noise jarred Lyra to the present. She exhaled an arrested breath. To brace her shaking arms, her free hand clamped the steering wheel. Unable to coordinate, her foot slid off the clutch and stalled the car. A chorus of horns blared. After fumbling with the ignition, she restarted and herded her Subaru into the stream of traffic. She locked her eyes squarely ahead to avoid angry road-rage stares from passing motorists.
One car pulled alongside and tooted. Her eyes shifted onto the driver who flipped her off before speeding away. Shaking, she gave up rushing to be on time. Keeping her car safely on the road was challenge enough. She hung back to allow other cars to pass. Plodding in the slow lane, her thoughts drifted to the letter. What had the coroner found? The director never mentioned any question about the cause of death.
Lyra shifted before engaging the clutch. Grinding gears vibrated the car. White-knuckling the wheel, she gratefully turned at the sign for Southern University. Finally in her assigned parking spot, she slumped into the seat. Before getting out, she reread the letter to search for clues between the phrases. The doctor wrote the letter three months ago.
Would that lost time make a difference? Was it possible someone harmed Jean? Hundreds in the village visited the funeral and expressed sorrow. What about that strange man, Revelin? Maybe a person from Dragonspeir? A few supporters of the evil Black Dragon could enter her world.
But who? His alchemist, Tarom, possessed enough power and talent. A chill ran down her spine, thinking of his glowing red eyes and crimson cloak with moving tentacles at its hem. She sighed.
No obvious evidence linked either man. Sun rays reflected light through her windshield from the modern glass and concrete English building. This alerted her to pull herself together and go inside. After sucking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, she opened the car door and stepped out. Her legs shook under her weight.
Her shoulders sagged under the load of the briefcase and bags. With an awkward gait, she ambled toward her building. She stopped cold. Students raced around her to make their classes. What about Eburscon? She clenched a fist, recalling his haughty, antagonistic manner. Opening a side door off the parking lot, she checked her watch.
Five minutes past the start of class time. She braced herself, rearranged her bags, and climbed two flights—a short cut to the classroom which avoided the department offices. Three minutes later, she arrived in the room, out-of-breath and shaking, in no shape to teach. But, the chairman kept careful tabs on all his non-tenured professors, including Lyra. Thankfully, the lesson was an easy one, reviewing short story reading assignments. Most eyed her with groggy stares, heads propped on elbows. Usually she enjoyed pitting them against each other, but today she merely appreciated their participation.
Her mind wandered two thousand miles away. She watched the clock, counting the minutes until she could talk with Cullen during his layover in Detroit. Author Bio:. Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. Her creativity also spills into watercolor painting and drawing. Crazy about cycling, she usually passes the 1, mile mark yearly.
She is learning kayaking and already addicted. She never has enough days spent at the beach, usually scribbling away at new stories with toes wiggling in the sand. Every day at the beach is magical! Genre: Fantasy romance. Lyra McCauley receives an alarming letter from the coroner who evaluated her deceased aunt, originally thought to have died of cancer. The news causes Lyra to take leave from her job and travel from sunny Tampa to the frozen island community in northern Michigan.
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Cullen, a year-old wizard, is dependent upon his Dragonspeir magic for immortality. He is her only family now; she cannot lose him. Evil forces block her and try to steal her inherited scribal aura. Riding a stealth dragon, a cloaked rider pursues Lyra. Both the Alliance and Dark Realm alchemists lay tricks and traps.
Will she be able to be with Cullen, or will the Dark Realm keep them apart? Purchase Links:. My name is Ken La Salle. I knew from a very young age that I wanted to do something creative.
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I felt pulled towards theatre, towards singing, and towards writing. After doing a lot of theatre, I realized my strength was not necessarily acting. Though I loved both more than I can say, my weakness as a singer and actor turned out to be my strength as a writer — that is, I tend to over-analyze things. You might say I think too much. My plays began to get produced.
I found an agent who believed in me. I was published — and not just self-published, either, which was nice. It just became what I am — and I have marveled at that every day since.