We’re starting our countdown to NIGHT VEIL’s July release with a snippet from Chapter 2 and a little contest every week!
You can read the first chapter of NIGHT VEIL in the back of BLOOD WYNE, or up on Yasmine's site. So we'll be posting snippets from chapter 2 each Monday until the release date. If we find anybody reproducing this on other sites we'll stop and everybody loses out. That means: NO cutting/pasting/copying/sending through email.
And each Monday, we'll be running a fun contest--culminating in a contest for two NIGHT VEIL mystery baskets during release week (7.5.2011)—they won’t contain the book, but they’ll both be themed around the book.
This week's contest: 2 winners, one receiving a $10 online gift certificate from Amazon and one receiving a bauble from Cicely Waters or Grieve—our heroine and hero of the Indigo Court Series. To enter:
• Leave your name and email contact in the comment thread to THIS blog post.
• You must be 18 or over.
• Lannan or Grieve: Which one and why?
"Cicely! Get a move on!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." I hurried into my favorite boots-a pair of Icon Bombshells-and slung my purse over my shoulder. Polishing a smudge off my left boot, I decided that I was as good as I was going to get, especially after a tussle with a goblin and a Shadow Hunter.
My hair hung free, smooth and ink-black to my shoulders, and I pulled it back into a sleek ponytail, then slipped on a pair of driving gloves and my leather jacket. I slid my moonstone pendant over my neck and secreted it beneath my sweater, then clattered down the stairs.
"Let's get this show on the road," I said.
Rhiannon was waiting, freshly showered herself, in a pair of khakis she'd paired with a plaid button-down shirt, and a camel wool coat.
My cousin was as bright as I was dark. Heather, her mother, used to call us Amber and Jet-fire and ice. Her hair was flame red, my own jet black. We were both twenty-six, both born on the summer solstice-she in the waxing hours, me in the waning. I was short and sturdy, Rhiannon tall and willowy. Opposites, yet we had referred to ourselves as twins when we were little.
Leo looked snazzy as usual. Geoffrey insisted he dress well for work, and most day-runners had extensive-and expensive-wardrobes. Leo was lucky. In his case, Geoffrey financed his expenses. Leo's tawny hair was a mass of curls barely skimming his neck and he towered over me, more lean than gangly.
"Be careful," Kaylin said, looking up from his spot on the sofa, where he was reading while petting a half dozen cats who sprawled around him, including Bart, Leo's Maine Coon familiar. "You go off half-cocked and try to stake Lannan and you'll be in a world of hurt."