If you want to see the copyright/disclaimer page, go to the Amazon page and click on the picture of Thorn Changer for the Look Inside option, and scroll up (this also gives you a chance to see the beautiful detail of the cover).
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Excerpt from Thorn Changer by Christy Reed
Skey swung her feet, kicking the leg of the bench, as she
waited for the cook to finish her mutterings about “no-good vagabonds” and “feed
bags with a dozen holes for every inch” and bring her the bowl of stew she so
grudgingly ladled out. Her stomach was complaining, gnawing at itself. It didn’t
like its long fast. It’d been three days now since she’d eaten anything but
some wild berries she’d found growing on a bramble bush by the roadside. Raspberries,
she would’ve said they were, save that it was too late in the year. Whatever
they were, there’d been far too few of them. Skey wished the cook would be as
fast in getting that stew over to her as she was in using her tongue.
“It appears you’re not too fond of minstrels,” she made an
attempt at a joke, as with a sour look the woman set the bowl before her. “Is
it the sound of their voice grating along on notes? Or their harp strings tuned
ten years ago?”
“It’s the way they fill their bellies as though eating for
ten or twelve.” The cook scowled. “You’re all alike. Nothing but empty sieves.”
Skey laughed, as she dipped her spoon into the bowl. What an
old fool. The steamy smell of vegetables and beef rising from the stew made her
even hungrier. “It certainly feels that way sometimes. Either I’ll be feeding my
belly, or else it’ll be eating itself.” She grinned at her. “But maybe it looks
that way to you because your cooking smells so good. If you’d cook worse, I
think you might solve the problem.”
The woman blushed. Yes, those charm lessons did come in
handy. “But if you’ve a troublesome lover,” she continued, “you might get rid
of him just as easily. I’ve no experience, but they say the way to change a man’s
heart’s to change your cooking. But if it fails, it’s nothing some hot spice
can’t take care of. Or some hemlock.”
The woman laughed. She gave Skey a playful box on the ear. “Aye,
you’re not only a minstrel, but a scamp as well. If I had the bad luck of being
your mother, I’d be driven well-nigh frantic by you.”
The warm stew in her mouth was cold and tasteless. She
forced herself to swallow. “Aye, you would’ve been,” she said, as the cook went
off to tend her pots. She sighed. “My own mother couldn’t handle it.”
Skey swung her feet, kicking the leg of the bench, as she
waited for the cook to finish her mutterings about “no-good vagabonds” and “feed
bags with a dozen holes for every inch” and bring her the bowl of stew she so
grudgingly ladled out. Her stomach was complaining, gnawing at itself. It didn’t
like its long fast. It’d been three days now since she’d eaten anything but
some wild berries she’d found growing on a bramble bush by the roadside. Raspberries,
she would’ve said they were, save that it was too late in the year. Whatever
they were, there’d been far too few of them. Skey wished the cook would be as
fast in getting that stew over to her as she was in using her tongue.
“It appears you’re not too fond of minstrels,” she made an
attempt at a joke, as with a sour look the woman set the bowl before her. “Is
it the sound of their voice grating along on notes? Or their harp strings tuned
ten years ago?”
“It’s the way they fill their bellies as though eating for
ten or twelve.” The cook scowled. “You’re all alike. Nothing but empty sieves.”
Skey laughed, as she dipped her spoon into the bowl. What an
old fool. The steamy smell of vegetables and beef rising from the stew made her
even hungrier. “It certainly feels that way sometimes. Either I’ll be feeding my
belly, or else it’ll be eating itself.” She grinned at her. “But maybe it looks
that way to you because your cooking smells so good. If you’d cook worse, I
think you might solve the problem.”
The woman blushed. Yes, those charm lessons did come in
handy. “But if you’ve a troublesome lover,” she continued, “you might get rid
of him just as easily. I’ve no experience, but they say the way to change a man’s
heart’s to change your cooking. But if it fails, it’s nothing some hot spice
can’t take care of. Or some hemlock.”
The woman laughed. She gave Skey a playful box on the ear. “Aye,
you’re not only a minstrel, but a scamp as well. If I had the bad luck of being
your mother, I’d be driven well-nigh frantic by you.”
The warm stew in her mouth was cold and tasteless. She
forced herself to swallow. “Aye, you would’ve been,” she said, as the cook went
off to tend her pots. She sighed. “My own mother couldn’t handle it.”
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That's the end of Chapter Five. I hope you enjoyed it. For right now, Thorn Changer is available exclusively on Amazon. Feel free to share this excerpt, just please include all text between the asterisks (* * *), as well as a link to Thorn Changer's Amazon page. This will give your viewers a link to where they can purchase Thorn Changer if they're interested. Thanks.
Okay, so my announcement: right now, Thorn Changer is on sale on Amazon for 99¢. If you want to snag a copy at this price, head on over to Amazon. This sale will only last around a week.
Thank you so much for reading these chapters. I hope you found them interesting!
Next week, I'll return to posting once a week on Thursdays.
Okay, so my announcement: right now, Thorn Changer is on sale on Amazon for 99¢. If you want to snag a copy at this price, head on over to Amazon. This sale will only last around a week.
Thank you so much for reading these chapters. I hope you found them interesting!
Next week, I'll return to posting once a week on Thursdays.
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