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 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.
And here’s #TBT four, my final, for Sister Lost Sister Found
“Yes, ma’am.” Rankil took a few more steps before she slowed to a stop, afraid she’d end up gathering for her greedy cousins as well as her own family. “I’ve been sent picking.”
“Good!” bellowed her aunt, pushing the woven shade from her round, sweating face. “Take Archell with you. He’s getting on my nerves.”
Archell? It could have been worse. If anyone had to tag along, Rankil preferred it be Archell. Everyone else considered him simpleminded, but she knew better. Archell had a unique way of looking at things. He lived in his own version of reality, one far removed from the pain of this one. If Rankil had one friend in the world, it was seventeen-pass-old Archell.
“Yes, ma’am. Where is he?”
Quyley swiped her nose on her blouse cuff. “Are you stupid, ugly, and deaf, girl? Can’t you hear his singing? He’s in the barn combing down the nassies. Swears they like his voice. Go get him and make him help.”
Rankil began to shake, her knees knocking so loud she knew her aunt could hear them. The barn was her uncle’s favorite escape from his noisy family. If she were lucky, he wouldn’t be there.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get him now.” Rankil turned toward the building’s open bay doors, her feet pushing up little dust clouds as they dragged along the ground. She peeked around the corner then drew back, her whisper almost inaudible above the nassies’ greeting shuffles and snorts.
His answer came as it always did, in song or rhyme. “Oh, my my pretty Rankil— too tall girl with the skinny ankles— Archell sees you from nassie Blue’s bright stall.” Blue’s stall stood third on the right. Rankil slid into it and gave the curly-coated gray work nassie a pat o reassurance.
“Want to pick cress with me?”
Next week I’ll be moving to my third novel, Sister’s Flight.