Welcome to my version of Throwback Thursday where I take a peek at some of my earlier titles. During October, I’ll be sharing from my second novel Sister Lost Sister Found, 2006, Bella Books. Sister Lost Sister Found won a GCLS Goldie award for excellence in speculative fiction.
Taelach Sisters Novel #2 (Bella Books 2006)
Rankil is marked for life – destined for abuse and negland ect at the hands of the Autlach. In her world, the worst that can happen to a Taelach child is not death – but life itself. And even though sister Taelachs constantly search for the younger Taelach children, Rankil is so far yet undiscovered.
Join Rankil on her journey to find a home where she is welcomed where love is at least a possibility in this long-awaited sequel to No Sister of Mine.
Winner of a Golden Crown Literary Society award for excellence in speculative fiction.
Here’s #TBT two for Sister Lost Sister Found.
“Bite your tongue.” Rankil cringed as the handle rose again but instead of another blow, Meelsa handed the sweeper to her eldest daughter Tessa, who’d been watching her snow-headed sister’s abuse with unbridled amusement. “Here, Tessie, do M’ma a favor and brush the floor proper. I’ve another chore for Rank.”
Contempt exuded from Tessa’s brown eyes as she narrowed them at Rankil. Tessa’s friends routinely teased her for the resemblance she bore to the family’s slave and the outgoing Tessa blamed Rankil for the taunts. “Why do I always end up fixing her messes? She forgot the door. Let her sweep.”
Meelsa’s graying braid swayed with the rhythm of her shaking head. “I’m sending Rankil to gather cress for tonight’s sup. It’s high season, and your dah wants some. She’ll go, unless you’d rather climb for it.” Rankil’s heart soared. She loved going cress gathering. No one bothered her in the hills. She could laugh and play, be happy, be Rankil.
“Ugh!” Tessa rolled her eyes at the thought of harvesting the strong-clinging, crevice-growing plant. “I’ll tend the floor and then work on my dress. I’ve all but finished tatting the collar lace. Kin says fancy collars bring out my eyes.”
“Jin would,” mumbled Meelsa, all too familiar with the ideas driving the young man’s flattery. “The dress and Jinwall Mustin can wait. Sweep more and talk less, Tessa. Your dah wants his house clean. Meelsa grabbed a carry sling from the hooks and tossed it to Rankil who nursed her stinging back. “Don’t you bring back any over-big leaves. You know what size they need to be. Danston will beat you if his greens are bitter again.”
More next week, I promise.