Monday, May 11, 2015

#SALE Only .99 Cents For A Limited Time! Tangled Roots by #Author Rebekkah Ford


                              
What would you do if you discovered you were once a powerful witch in the 1600s and can regain your magic . . . would you? Eighteen-year-old Carrie Jacobson once lived as a powerful witch named Isadora in Europe during the 1600s. With the help of an eccentric enchantress, Carrie regains her magic and unleashes an ancient curse that will change not only her life but the lives of others as well.

¸.•*¨*.
*¨*.¸¸.Tangled Roots*¨`*.¸¸.*¨*.*¨*•.¸

Rebekkah Ford weaves delicious erotic imagery through her universe of ghosts, magic and the supernatural. Read one of her books and you will be an instant fan.~Reader's 5 star review


Excerpt from Tangled Roots:

I stood in a clearing deep in the forest with four followers. My fellows: Driscol, Jorsten, Lukas, and my baby brother Niklas. All of them had on the same dark, hooded cloak I wore. The torches we held blazed, casting us in a reddish orange glow against the night sky. The full moon was white, like marble glass. Its rays filtered through the canopy of trees, throwing layers of beams to the right and left of us, crisscrossing, as if the Moon Goddess was sheltering our coven from outsiders. Every cell in my body buzzed with magical energy from what I took from the earth when I made the elixirs I now carried in my pocket.

“As you know,” I said to the group, “Margaretha has been accused of causing frost on the crops in a diabolical plan to destroy her competitors, resulting in crop failure, plague, and malnutrition. Because of the loss of wine and grain, a period of hyperinflation ensued. We all know the accusation are false and misleading. Margaretha did nothing of the sort. The only guilt that weighs upon her shoulders also lies on ours: practicing control of the weather. But by no means were we the perpetrators of such stressful times. By no means did our weather-making practice stimulate the vicious nexus of supernatural beliefs and common reasoning. Nature is beautiful and ugly, temperamental even. From its bosoms, it bears wondrous gifts, but her misgivings grow beneath the surface and can erupt at any time and for any reason.” I paused long enough to look at each one of my fellows. They nodded in agreement. A fierce, affectionate love for them warmed my heart. “Margaretha,” I continued, “is innocent of all charges, so are Simone, Tobias, Ulrich, and my father.”

“Why don’t we save them?” Lukas asked.

He was the most adorable one out of the bunch, with his golden hair and eyes to match. However, he was the youngest and lacked common sense. He favored his emotions over reasoning. We were lucky to have reached him before he made a foolish mistake.

“Why ask something you already know the answer to?” Niklas asked. “Your magic is no longer effective due to your excessive use and possible punishment from the high counsel of witches.”

“But Isadora still has her magic,” Lukas countered. He met my eyes with his. There was no malice in them, only curiosity. “Why won’t you free your father and our friends? You have the power to do so.”

“My power is waning,” I told him. “I must conserve it to protect us.”

“But—” Lukas started to say, but Niklas elbowed him in the side and gestured for him to listen.

“When Jaegar told Niklas and me about the fate of our father and friends, I wanted to do nothing more than bring Hell’s fury down upon those involved in these witch hunts.” I pointed to Niklas. “He can confirm the truth I have just spoken.” Niklas nodded, and I went on. “Thankfully, Jaegar had the presence of mind to quell my wrathful state, so I could think clearly on the matter. After he departed to attend his store, I formulated a plan which would surely guarantee our survival.”

“An immortality spell,” Driscol said, a grin crossing his handsome face.

Ah, he possessed many enticing qualities that had more than once sent me in a tailspin of unvirtuous thoughts. Countless nights, as I lay skyclad beneath the moonlight, I’d envisioned straddling his tall, muscular frame and riding him as we paid homage to our ancestors. Jaegar was a skillful lover, but Driscol was a bit of a rogue—edgy and a trusted ally. Jaegar, on the other hand, I harbored reservations for. However, I was drawn to his touch and had given him my heart before I’d realized I did so. In truth, I knew it would be my undoing. There was no future for us, yet I gravitated to him like bears to honey.

“Correct,” I said, sending Driscol a flirty smile. He winked and brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. They appeared darker green than normal, and a hungry need filled them. Was it for me or for outwitting our oppressors? My body warmed at the mere thought of him touching it. “Well . . . theoretically speaking.”

“What do you mean?” Jorsten asked, shifting his weight, rubbing the stubble on his face. He was the rugged, beastly type in our group, with his dark, shoulder-length shaggy hair and dark eyes. He loved his ale and to have a grand time. He never cowered from a challenge or authority. I admired those qualities about him.

“All spells have a loophole,” I told them. “I plan on casting a transmigration spell after I see Jaegar tonight. Once this nightmare is over, we’ll meet here, and I’ll break the enchantment you’ll be under. If for some reason I run into some trouble, you my friends will live on, unless you choose to die or some accident befalls you.”




Here’s where you can purchase it for this smokin’ price.





No comments:

Post a Comment