Crimson Tree Publishing is proud to present Bloodthorn, Olive Kennedy Fairy World MD Book 3, by Tamara Grantham!
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Tamara Grantham was born and raised in Southeast Texas. She earned a Bachelor’s degree in English from Lamar University. After marrying her husband David, she followed him through his training to become a burn surgeon, which consisted of moving from Vidor, Texas to Galveston, Texas, then to Tulsa, Oklahoma, back to Galveston, and they finally settled in Wichita, Kansas. Tamara and David have five active, sweet, and almost always well-mannered children, ages zero to ten years. Their two pets, June—the Jack Russell Terrier, and Chester—a black cat, help to keep the house lively (in addition to the children.)When Tamara isn’t writing or tending her children, she enjoys taking walks through the woods, eating chocolate, and very infrequently, she enjoys a good night’s sleep. Check out Tamara's website at: WWW.TAMARAGRANTHAM.COM
Connect With Tamara
For various reasons, I have not been able to devote as much of my free time to writing this year as I would like. That said, I do have several short stories and novellas coming out in anthologies this year. I'm very proud of these stories, which allowed me to try different genres, and I hope you enjoy them too!
The first is the 'Revolution' anthology, which will debut at UTOPiA Con in June. Proceeds benefit the Help Build a South African Library Foundation. This was my first Dystopian story, and I really enjoyed writing it! If you are in the Nashville, TN area and/or plan on attending the conference, you can order your copy here.
Another anthology project that I am part of this year is the Debut Collective. This collection of five books contains stories from veteran authors and debut authors. There is literally a story for every reader in this collection! Aren't the covers gorgeous? I want to buy one of each just to have these gems on my bookshelf. If you're coming to UTOPiA Con, you can pre-order your copies for a special price here.
My story, A Rose, appears in the Hostile Takeover collection. It’s my first foray into horror, and I had a blast writing it.
You can learn more about the Debut Collective by joining the Facebook group,
https://www.facebook.com/DebutCollective/. You can learn more about me and my story by reading my interview, https://thedebutcollective.wordpress.com/2016/05/17/author-spotlight-kelly-risser/.
I am participating in two more anthology projects this year, but as those are still rather early in the process, I'll share more at a later date. Watch for upcoming details!
The Neverland Wars
A flash of lightning electrified the sky, shooting light through the forest with a jarring pang. The boom of thunder followed immediately after. The sky was grey and the clouds shifted like a swarm of dark fish in a pond. Gwen feared she would be caught in a storm, but not a drop of rain had fallen yet.
All at once, Gwen found herself in a meadow. She had never been here before; she knew that. Wildflowers cropped up in sporadic clumps, and the long, green grasses were uncut at her calves. The tree line had suddenly broken. One minute, she was racing through the forest, the next, she was floating here. Pausing to catch her breath, she ironically felt safer in this open area than in the claustrophobic security of the forest. She landed gently, unthinkingly. Turning her head to the sky, she saw the faint grey clouds blowing and rolling away. Darker clouds seemed to be coming to take their place.
On the other side of the meadow, Peter burst into the clearing. Bramble was leading him, guiding the boy to poor, lost Gwen. If Gwen had understood the fairy language, she would have already known that.
“Peter?” Gwen shouted. She ran to him, and between her bounding strides and his quick flight, they met in the middle of the meadow, cornflowers and lilacs growing up around them. Perhaps if he had been on the ground initially, she would have hugged him. Peter lingered in the air for just a moment though, and by the time he landed, the impulse to hug each other had melted away into urgent discussion. “What are you doing out here?” His voice carried the sort of anger that only accompanied concern.
“I got lost in the woods; I was trying to come back. Is something wrong, Peter?”
Bramble flitted back and forth, pacing in the air, objecting to Peter and Gwen having this conversation now, rather than when they were safely underground.
“The opposition, they’ve launched an attack. We’ve got to get to cover.”
“What? No, it’s just a storm.” Gwen didn’t understand what Peter was telling her, but she had already made up her mind that she didn’t believe it.
The sky was suddenly drained of light. The thin, grey clouds that had blocked the sun were eclipsed by darker, brooding storm clouds, and as the daylight faded, small, grey flecks began to rain down. As they drifted softly, Gwen knew it wasn’t rain. Her attention was as captivated as Peter’s was, but she did not understand what it was the way he did. “Snow?” she asked quizzically, looking at the grey and dirty powder as it started to fall around her.
Peter held out his hand and caught a flake of it, crushing it in his hand. It left a smoky residue on his palm. “Ash.”
The winds picked up, and more of the ash furiously fluttered down. It became larger, and Gwen could hardly comprehend the charred flecks of paper that were plummeting down. Peter zipped up into the air, jumping more than flying, to grab a large square of it. He came back down immediately, a look of horror on his face.
“Peter, what is it?” Gwen pled, hoping that her fear was born of her unknowing, that if she only had answers she wouldn’t be afraid, but from the look on his face, she knew that answers would only bring more fear.
The invisible hand of the wind grabbed the paper from out of Peter’s hold. It blew straight to Gwen. Catching it, she realized it was a page from out of a newspaper; the title read—ISIS ATTACK ON ERBIL; HUNDREDS DEAD.
She had seen newspaper headlines before, but this news did not belong here. Not in Neverland. It was too dark, too terrifying of a thing to read amid the lilacs and cornflowers. Again, she begged, “What is this, Peter?”
The page was torn out of her hand by the vindictive wind. Peter answered her, with a word she had never feared so greatly. “Reality.”
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