#LGBTQBooks #TBT Throwback Thursday – Sister Lost Sister Found #3

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)

Amazon   Bella Books   Barnes & Noble

Rankil is marked for life – destined for abuse and neglect 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 one for Sister Lost Sister Found.

Here’s #TBT two for Sister Lost Sister Found.

Here’s #TBT three for Sister Lost Sister Found.


     “Yes, ma’am.” Rankil scrambled to her feet, snagged her wide-brimmed sunshade from the hooks and ran out the door. If she found a good patch, cress gathering wouldn’t take more than an hours or two, leaving her time to roam. She could ask for a slice of bread to eat while she worked, Meelsa would give her that, but she knew she’d do better foraging in the hills. She should have her fill of cress up there as well. There would be none for her that evening.

     So, her stomach twittering, Rankil trotted across the courtyard, past her uncle’s family’s cottage. Uncle Tisph had eight children of his own, six of them boys, each of them more inventive than the next the cruelty they demonstrated for Rankil. As mean as they were, she still preferred them to her uncle. Tisph always looked at her funny. He never acted mean in a hitting way, just the opposite. He would be too nice, his hand quick to pat her behind or run a path across her chest. He’d even tried to kiss her once, a sucking, full-mouth kiss like her father gave her mother. Rankil wouldn’t have liked it even if Meelsa hadn’t caught them at it. She’d been so furious with Rankil that she had beaten her all the way back to the house, swearing something about birthing a white witch with whorish wiles as they went. What were wiles anyway? Rankil knew what a witch was, she’d been called one enough times, but she had never heard the last word before. The next day she’d asked Tessa to explain, but her sister had said it’d been her own fault that Tisph had kissed her. This only furthered Rankil’s confusion No one ever showed her affection then when someone did it was wrong? She pondered that fact for a while, deciding she would do best to keep away from Uncle Tisph. His touch made her feel sort of sick inside and besides, she didn’t want another beating— there were plenty of those as was. Time had made her adept at staying clearing of him in almost every situation and in the presence of others when she had to be near him.

     Keeping close to the garden gate to avoid attention, Rankil had almost cleared the compound gates when Aunt Quyley, Tisph’s perpetually pregnant, quarrelsome wife shouted to her from beside the garden shed.

     “Rainkil!” Quyley’s voice had become gruff from screaming at her children. “Come here, girl!”

More next week, I promise.

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