My apologies your Tuesday Treat is very late getting to you. As some of you know I care for my Mom, who lives with me. Sometimes there are medical appointments scheduled for early morning, never a good time for us. At present with my new book, Marked for Magic out in only a week I am very busy with preparations for a blog tour. Hence, I am late with this post.
I hope you will enjoy a little snippet from Marked for Magic as your treat today. This is the first time Nin understands the Mage can hear her thoughts. Enjoy.
She toyed with the idea of calling up to him, but she’d promised not to disturb his work, and his temper certainly burned short. If she didn’t call him, she couldn’t cook, and he’d be angry. Yet chances were if she did call him, he’d be angry, too. By the end of her deliberations, she’d grown angry herself. She might as well get on with it. I’ve got to have a bigger cauldron! The door to the stairs creaked on its hinges as she opened it. About to call up, she stilled when his tread sounded at the top of the stone steps. “You have no need to yell up the stairs.” His voice echoed in the lofty darkness. “I didn’t.” Was this part of his magic? What else could he do as well as hear what she thought? Only Alicia had ever heard the mind singing, but neither she nor her friend thought the trick was anything but a game. Mind singing couldn’t be magic. “I distinctly heard you yell.” He hesitated, as though waiting for an explanation. When she offered none, he continued down the stairs. “The cooking pot is here.” She moved out of the way. He brushed past to reach up to the top of the cupboard where she couldn’t see, and handed her a much larger cauldron than the one on the table. He glanced toward the hearth and demanded. “Where is the small pot?” She froze. Was he angry? A spasm crossed his face and his lip twitched. “I emptied it in the stream. I meant to use the small pot for the soup.” “Gods, I am doomed!” His stare blazed green fire. “You have thrown away the finest batch of seeing mushrooms I have made in years.” He ran his hand over his hair. The blue coils around his wrist seemed to writhe like live, spring-woken snakes. “Foolish brat, did you not think to ask?” She shook her head, gritting her teeth to keep silent. He glowered. “Nin, a new rule. Here you touch nothing if it contains anything.” “That’s stupid. You can’t say I mustn’t touch anything. You should have said not to use the small cauldron. I didn’t know.” Ready to bolt, she edged to the door. “Well, you know now!” His yell almost lifted her feet. “Do you know what a seeing mushroom looks like?” “Yes,” she murmured. Aunt Jen had pointed them out, so both she and her cousin Lettie knew them. Her aunt had always warned they should never go in the pot, no matter how hungry they all were. The seeing mushrooms were small, sour, but most of all, dangerous. “I’ve seen them.” “Then go out and pick more. I’ll need twenty-four, at least. I want them before nightfall.” She backed around to the other side of the table. Safe with something solid between them, her heart hammered less. She quelled her fear. His green robe, it wasn’t so fine. A tear ran up to his knee on one side. It needed stitching. “I’ll make the soup first, shall I? I’ll need a collecting basket.” He opened the tall top cupboard and yanked down a wicker basket. One of his sleeves bore a patch at the elbow. For a Mage, he wasn’t so well off. “Here.” He shoved the basket toward her. “And don’t come back without them.” He stomped up the stairs. She could have spat after him. Several of the more unpleasant names the villagers screeched when she left raced through her mind. He deserved all of those names. “I heard that,” he called. “Don’t let me hear you cursing again!” Ice water ran through her veins. He was the Mage, yes, but no one had told her that he could hear thoughts. Agnes had said hundreds of vile things. Most of them she refused to think of, but the wise woman had never mentioned he would know what she was thinking.
Buy Links Amazon http://amazon.com/author/daisybanks Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/1NWh8gi itunes http://apple.co/1IN2oP2 Kobo http://bit.ly/1y85pJt About the author. Daisy Banks writes sensual and spicy romance in the Historical, Paranormal and Fantasy genres. She is an obsessive writer and her focus is to offer the best tale she can to readers. Daisy is married with two grown up sons. She lives in a converted chapel in Shropshire, England. Antiques and collecting entertain Daisy when she isn’t writing and she occasionally makes a meal that doesn’t stick to the pan. Daisy Banks Links Blog https://daisybanks.wordpress.com/ Website http://daisybanksnovels.yolasite.com/ Twitter @DaisyBanks16 Facebook http://on.fb.me/18iRC35 Pinterest http://bit.ly/16sF1XG Tsu http://www.tsu.co/DaisyBanks Amazon http://amazon.com/author/daisybanks