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Blog Tour: To Bear An Iron Key by Jackie Morse Kessler presented by Month9BooksEligibility: Contest does not seem to have any geographical restrictions (may be subject to the winner's ability to receive and use PayPal and/or Amazon products in his/her locale).
Ends: 5 June 2014
Prize(s):
- Four (4) winners will receive an ebook copy of To Bear an Iron Key by Jackie Morse Kessler (INT)
- One (1) winner will receive an ebook copy of To Bear an Iron Key by Jackie Morse Kessler AND a $10 Amazon Gift Card or B&N Gift Card – Winner’s Choice (INT)
The Book
Genre: fantasy
About To Bear An Iron Key:
To Bear an Iron Key is the first in a new and exciting series from acclaimed author Jackie Morse Kessler.Source: Info in the About To Bear An Iron Key was from the press kit from the publicity team.
Five years ago, the young witch Bromwyn refused a gift from the powerful fairy king. Tonight, on Midsummer, that decision comes back to haunt her. When her best friend Rusty picks the wrong pocket, he and Bromwyn are all that stand between their village and the rampaging fairies who have pushed through the World Door. If they cannot outwit the fairy king and queen before the World Door closes at sunrise, the friends will lose everything—their village, Bromwyn’s magic, and Rusty’s life.
Buy Link(s):
Excerpt:
Bromwyn peeked inside the baker’s doorway, looking for a glimpse of red hair. But no—if Rusty was in the shop at all, he was out of her view. If anything, he was probably running ingredients from the basement storehouse to the ovens in the back, judging by the line of customers waiting their turn. Bromwyn smiled as she imagined Rusty covered in enough powdered sugar to turn his hair pink.
As she walked past the bakery, she felt a soft nudge against her back.
Her hand whipped out behind her, and she grabbed hold. There was a yelp as she yanked her arm forward, and now in front of her was a mudrat of a child, whom she held by one skinny arm.
He blinked wide brown eyes at her, looking like quite the waif as he obviously prepared to give her a sad tale of parents lost and an empty belly forcing him to steal. Then something passed over his dirty face, and his eyes became glassy with fear.
“Lady Witch,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was you! I swear it!”
She released him, but he stood rooted to the spot. Maybe one day, she would appreciate people’s fear of her, as her grandmother insisted again and again. But right now, all it did was make her feel tired, and uneasy, and very much the monster.
“Usually the long hair is a dead giveaway,” she said with a smile that she hoped was soothing.
But the child paled, and she realized her mistake. She could have kicked herself for the poor choice of words.
“I,” he said. “I. I.”
“You,” she prodded gently.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean! Here!” He thrust something at her—a small roll of bread, probably snatched just moments ago from one of the bakery shelves.
“Please,” she said, “this is not necessary…”
“Take it,” he shrieked, dropping it into her hand.
She closed her fingers around the roll and he took off, fleeing down the dirt-packed street and rounding a corner that would eventually lead toward the docks, as if he could outrun her magic had she chosen to lay a Curse on him.
She sighed. Stupid mudrat.
As she walked past the bakery, she felt a soft nudge against her back.
Her hand whipped out behind her, and she grabbed hold. There was a yelp as she yanked her arm forward, and now in front of her was a mudrat of a child, whom she held by one skinny arm.
He blinked wide brown eyes at her, looking like quite the waif as he obviously prepared to give her a sad tale of parents lost and an empty belly forcing him to steal. Then something passed over his dirty face, and his eyes became glassy with fear.
“Lady Witch,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was you! I swear it!”
She released him, but he stood rooted to the spot. Maybe one day, she would appreciate people’s fear of her, as her grandmother insisted again and again. But right now, all it did was make her feel tired, and uneasy, and very much the monster.
“Usually the long hair is a dead giveaway,” she said with a smile that she hoped was soothing.
But the child paled, and she realized her mistake. She could have kicked herself for the poor choice of words.
“I,” he said. “I. I.”
“You,” she prodded gently.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean! Here!” He thrust something at her—a small roll of bread, probably snatched just moments ago from one of the bakery shelves.
“Please,” she said, “this is not necessary…”
“Take it,” he shrieked, dropping it into her hand.
She closed her fingers around the roll and he took off, fleeing down the dirt-packed street and rounding a corner that would eventually lead toward the docks, as if he could outrun her magic had she chosen to lay a Curse on him.
She sighed. Stupid mudrat.
Meet The Author
Jackie Morse Kessler grew up in Brooklyn, NY, with a cranky cat and overflowing shelves filled with dolls and books. Now she’s in Upstate NY with another cranky cat, a loving husband, two sons, and overflowing shelves filled with dragons and books (except when her sons steal her dragons). She has a bachelor’s degree in English and American Literature, and yet she’s never read any Jane Austen (with or without zombies). She also has a master’s degree in media ecology. (The living study of technology and culture. Which is cool, but she still can’t figure out how to use Tweetdeck.) Jackie spends a lot of time writing, reading, and getting distracted by bright and shiny new ideas. (She just came up with a new idea right now.) She has a weakness for chocolate and a tendency to let her cat take over her office chair.
Giveaway
