Welcome to my tour stop for A Tangle of Fates by Leslie Ann Moore. This tour runs Feb. 2-13 with reviews, interviews, guest post & excerpts. Check out the tour page for more information.
About The Book:
The fates of three women. The fates of two peoples. The fate of one planet.On Nuetierra, four hundred years have passed since the Great War. A new society has arisen on the ashes of the old.
Deanna Hernaan, daughter of Eduard, the former Alcalde of Nue Bayona, spends her days attending university and caring for her mentally damaged sister, Ceilia. Six years ago, her stepmother Lourdessa deposed her father, and now, as Alcalde, rules the city through patronage and oppression. Deanna remains apolitical, fearing Lourdessa’s power. Threatened by Deanna’s popularity with the common people, the Alcalde arranges for her assassination. Deanna survives, but is cast adrift in a hostile wilderness. She is rescued by a band of diminutive hunters—the Tiqui—members of a slave race she has only read about in history books. The hunters bring Deanna to their village, where she meets the Tiqui chieftess Yellow Bird. A remarkable woman, the ithani possesses the shamanic gift of foresight. Her visions have revealed to her that a young woman of the tall folk would come, one whose fate is inextricably entwined with that of the Tiqui—one who would bring disaster or salvation for all of Nuetierra.
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Excerpt:
The pavement heaved underfoot, sending Zander sprawling. A maelstrom of dust and flying debris engulfed him. Something hard slammed into his temple, and for a few moments, the world spun and darkness threatened to take him.
He fought off the swoon, and blinking grit from his eyes, scrambled to his feet. The scene that confronted him wrung a shocked cry from his lips. The entire front wall of Red Hill Station lay demolished in the street. Bodies sprawled like broken, discarded dolls amidst the wreckage. A poli, the blackened tatters of his uniform flapping in the wind, staggered from the shattered interior, swayed for a heartbeat, then crumpled to the ground.
Zander drifted toward the ruins past people covered in plaster like powdered sugar. Some stood in dazed silence, others sobbed, still others lay on the rubble-strewn pavement. He bent down to help an elderly woman to her feet. Multiple, fine lacerations scored her cheeks and forehead. She gripped his shoulders, her face a mask of fear. Zander could see her lips moving but her voice sounded muffled, as if his ears had been stuffed full of algodon wool.
He shook his head. She nodded and turned away. He moved on.
The paralyzing shock of the explosion had begun to wear off, and all around Zander, the crowd was disintegrating. He froze in his tracks, arms wrapped around his body in a defensive hug as he was buffeted on all sides by running people. A hand seized his forearm and yanked him around.
It was Sonia.
Her wig and bonnet had disappeared. Fine, white dust coated her clothes and the tangled locks of windblown hair whipping her face. She fixed Zander with dark eyes that held no fear. Grasping his hand, she turned and together, they let the stream of fleeing humanity pull them along in its wake. From behind, Zander could hear the muffled wail of sirens.
By the time they reached the Maze side of Caya Uno, they were running. Sonia led the way off the main road onto a side street, and then into a narrow, trash-strewn alley between rows of dilapidated tenements. Feeble light from curtained windows overhead did little to banish the shadows. Shoulder to shoulder, they leaned against the decayed brick retaining wall, breathing hard. A few moments later, another figure entered the alley.
Revealed within the split second duration of a lightning flash, Tony limped toward them, his mouth stretched in a grimace of pain. He joined them against the wall. Pointing to his ankle, he said, “I think it’s sprained.” His voice sounded as if it came from the bottom of a well.
Zander rubbed his ears, trying to massage away the ringing caused by the blast. His touch set off a ferocious sting at his temple. Something hard was lodged beneath the skin. Ignoring the pain, he picked at the mysterious bleb until he’d worked it free, then held it up to his eyes.
It took a moment for his brain to recognize that the small, blood-smeared object within his grasp was a human tooth.
He fought off the swoon, and blinking grit from his eyes, scrambled to his feet. The scene that confronted him wrung a shocked cry from his lips. The entire front wall of Red Hill Station lay demolished in the street. Bodies sprawled like broken, discarded dolls amidst the wreckage. A poli, the blackened tatters of his uniform flapping in the wind, staggered from the shattered interior, swayed for a heartbeat, then crumpled to the ground.
Zander drifted toward the ruins past people covered in plaster like powdered sugar. Some stood in dazed silence, others sobbed, still others lay on the rubble-strewn pavement. He bent down to help an elderly woman to her feet. Multiple, fine lacerations scored her cheeks and forehead. She gripped his shoulders, her face a mask of fear. Zander could see her lips moving but her voice sounded muffled, as if his ears had been stuffed full of algodon wool.
He shook his head. She nodded and turned away. He moved on.
The paralyzing shock of the explosion had begun to wear off, and all around Zander, the crowd was disintegrating. He froze in his tracks, arms wrapped around his body in a defensive hug as he was buffeted on all sides by running people. A hand seized his forearm and yanked him around.
It was Sonia.
Her wig and bonnet had disappeared. Fine, white dust coated her clothes and the tangled locks of windblown hair whipping her face. She fixed Zander with dark eyes that held no fear. Grasping his hand, she turned and together, they let the stream of fleeing humanity pull them along in its wake. From behind, Zander could hear the muffled wail of sirens.
By the time they reached the Maze side of Caya Uno, they were running. Sonia led the way off the main road onto a side street, and then into a narrow, trash-strewn alley between rows of dilapidated tenements. Feeble light from curtained windows overhead did little to banish the shadows. Shoulder to shoulder, they leaned against the decayed brick retaining wall, breathing hard. A few moments later, another figure entered the alley.
Revealed within the split second duration of a lightning flash, Tony limped toward them, his mouth stretched in a grimace of pain. He joined them against the wall. Pointing to his ankle, he said, “I think it’s sprained.” His voice sounded as if it came from the bottom of a well.
Zander rubbed his ears, trying to massage away the ringing caused by the blast. His touch set off a ferocious sting at his temple. Something hard was lodged beneath the skin. Ignoring the pain, he picked at the mysterious bleb until he’d worked it free, then held it up to his eyes.
It took a moment for his brain to recognize that the small, blood-smeared object within his grasp was a human tooth.
About The Author:
Leslie Ann Moore was born in Los Angeles, California at the tail-end of the baby boom and fell in love with the works of Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke, Andre Norton, and J.R.R. Tolkien at an early age.
A practicing veterinarian since 1988, Leslie put her dreams of writing fiction aside until she attended the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books in 2000. There, bestselling fantasy author Terry Brooks told her, “Don’t ever give up. Keep writing, no matter what.” Those words changed her life.
She published the first volume of her Griffin’s Daughter trilogy in 2012. A Tangle of Fates is the first volume of The Vox Machina trilogy, and will be published by Muse Harbor in August of 2014.
Giveaway:
$25 Gift Card (INT)Ends 2/18/15
This event was organized by CBB Book Promotions.
Thank you so much for hosting a tour stop!
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