Publication date: March 21st 2013
Genre: YA Fantasy
Synopsis:
Terror strikes the Celtic inspired kingdom of Nemetona when barbed roots breach the veil of a forbidden land and poison woodsmen, including 15-year-old Lia’s beloved father. Lia and three others embark on a quest to the forbidden land of Brume to gather ingredients for the cure. But after her elder kinsman is attacked and poisoned, she and her cousin, Wynn, are forced to finish the quest on their own.
Lia relies on her powerful herbal wisdom and the memorized pages of her late grandmother’s Grimoire for guidance through a land of soul-hungry shades, trickster creatures, and uncovered truths about the origin of Brume and her family’s unexpected ties to it. The deeper they trek into the land, the stronger Lia’s untapped gift as a tree mage unfolds. When she discovers the enchanted root’s maker, it forces her to question everything about who she is and what is her destiny. Ultimately she must make a terrible choice: keep fighting to save her father and the people of the lands or join with the power behind the deadly roots to help nature start anew.
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AUTHOR BIO
Christina Mercer writes fiction in addition to mothering two young adults, a pack of large dogs, and about 100,000 honeybees. She's been an avid reader since she could walk and took her first writing job at age 10 as reporter for her local 4-H group. Her varied interests and ambidextrous skills prompted her to study creative writing in college, earn her official degree in Accounting from California State University at Sacramento, become a CPA., acquire a certificate in Herbal Studies from Clayton College of Natural Health, and become a hobbyist beekeeper. She took Writer’s Best in Show at the 2012 SCBWI CA North/Central Regional Conference and was a semi-finalist in the 2010 Amazon Breakout Novel Award Contest. You can find her at www.christinamercer.com or blogging with the girls over at www.indie-visible.com
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EXCERPT
AUTHOR BIO
Christina Mercer writes fiction in addition to mothering two young adults, a pack of large dogs, and about 100,000 honeybees. She's been an avid reader since she could walk and took her first writing job at age 10 as reporter for her local 4-H group. Her varied interests and ambidextrous skills prompted her to study creative writing in college, earn her official degree in Accounting from California State University at Sacramento, become a CPA., acquire a certificate in Herbal Studies from Clayton College of Natural Health, and become a hobbyist beekeeper. She took Writer’s Best in Show at the 2012 SCBWI CA North/Central Regional Conference and was a semi-finalist in the 2010 Amazon Breakout Novel Award Contest. You can find her at www.christinamercer.com or blogging with the girls over at www.indie-visible.com
Website / Facebook / Twitter
EXCERPT
Nettles stung
Lia’s flesh. She pressed her fingers against her mouth for relief. This is
what I get for letting my thoughts wander. Grandma wouldn’t have been so
careless while harvesting sting-leaf. She wouldn’t have let the villagers’
opinions prick at her mind, no matter how many called her mad for crafting
remedies in the old ways.
Koun whined and
nudged Lia’s arm with his nose.
“I’m all right,
boy.” Lia gazed into her hound’s violet eyes and then turned her attention to
the friendlier mallow plant. Its white flowers matched Koun’s coat and its
leaves and roots promised a soothing balm for the nettle’s bite. She’d make
another batch of salve for Da, too. He swore her “potions” kept his hands fit
enough for hewing wood and soft enough for holding Ma. Her ma could use a bit
more mallow infusion for her soaps, as well, and she’d take a bundle of
clippings to Granda—
Her thoughts
scattered as Koun shot from the garden. Lia whirled around to the pair of
horses charging up the path. She squinted in the dusky light and recognized
Da’s friend, Kenneth, on one of the horses. Then her insides went cold. Across
the other horse’s back lay Da’s limp body.
She dropped the
harvested mallow and sped from her garden toward them. Ma’s scream shot like a
bolt through her, but Kenneth’s words, “He’s alive,” offered Lia a morsel of
hope.
Kenneth carried
Da into the cottage, and Lia caught a glimpse of her father’s torn and bloodied
clothing. “I’ll fetch Granda,” she cried, and hurried to her filly.
Clad in her usual
boy’s breeches and high leather boots, Lia raced her horse down the path with
her heart pounding in rhythm to the hoof beats.
The world
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