RELEASE BLITZ WITH EXCERPT: Sky’s Edge by Kristen Ashley
SKY’S EDGE, a steamy and enchanting arranged marriage futuristic romantasy and the second interconnected romance in the Four Realms series from New York Times Bestselling Author, Kristen Ashley, is available now!
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Peace has been shattered in the Four Realms…
Peace has been shattered in the Four Realms…
But Catla Truelock has bigger concerns.
Her father’s done what he’d been threatening to do. He’s arranged her marriage to a man not of Catla’s choice.
It’s the demon way, but Catla knows her new betrothed, and she doesn’t like him. He’s aloof. He’s arrogant. And he’s both in spades.
Tanyn, the new king of Sky’s Edge, feels differently about the half-demon beauty from Night’s Fall. He’s made his decision on who he wants to be his queen.
She’s perfect.
He simply has to convince her.
Tanyn sets about doing that, but he’s interrupted when his fiancée receives a death threat.
It’s then all the royals of the Four Realms understand that the danger is not over. For reasons unknown, there’s a sinister faction in their lands who’s targeting them, and the women who will rule at their sides.
Now, Tanyn has to keep his Catla safe, at the same time convincing her to wear his crown.
And Catla has to decide if she can leave everything she knows to be the bride of the handsome king in a land that is not her own.
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“…an addictive blend of arranged marriage, royal duty and found family.” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads
EXCERPT:
Prologue
Curse
Tanyn
Three Days after the Midnight Masque in Night’s Fall…
King Tanyn alighted from the craft.
He heard the hiss of the door closing behind him, but he paid no mind to it.
His mind was on the ice steps in front of him.
He allowed those steps to lead his gaze and his attention up to the castle that rose high above him, a riot of snowy turrets with golden warmth flooding from lit windows.
The whole thing was a fancy, a folly, a magician’s trick.
And a not-so-inside joke.
But underneath, it was a witch’s curse.
Berg Castle, the royal residence of the monarchs of Sky’s Edge for the last six hundred years, was coated in snow.
This, while the inhabitants of that realm, if lore could be believed (and Tanyn knew it could), were delivered direct from the pits of the fiery levels of the hells.
It had not been built to resemble the fairytale castle it appeared to be now.
It had been built to convey power. To intimidate.
Pain, betrayal and loss were what caused it to be packed with snow.
Tanyn ascended steps he had not ever taken in his life, for he’d been born to sit on the throne but was banished from that castle when he was barely able to walk.
He stood at the top landing in front of golden doors that shone so brightly, not only from their color, but also from the eternal gilded fire blazing from the large lantern that hung above him.
He turned and stared at the lights spread before him, demarcating the capital city of Sky’s Edge, Abyssinia.
His city.
His realm.
His.
He turned back to the doors.
For this, his first visit since he was a year old, he had dismissed all the staff who worked there.
It was his first visit as king.
Therefore, he had to push through the doors himself.
He did not wander the chambers.
He did not marvel at the centuries-old magic that had created the snow walls and ice marble floors, ice crystal chandeliers and frost-edged windows.
He did what he promised his mother he would do when this day arrived.
He descended three levels under the castle.
He went to the dungeons.
Once there, he took the skeleton key he’d demanded, and received, and used it on the antique lock to an area of the castle he’d been told hadn’t been used in four hundred years.
He threw open the old wooden door fortified by iron and instantly recoiled.
Centuries of torment, misery, torture and lost hope had a feel that endured time.
It also, he just discovered, had a smell.
He allowed himself to adjust to it, and after he entered, instead of voicing his command, he turned to the bank of switches at his side which had been installed when electricity had been harnessed for a variety of uses.
Tanyn hit the switches.
The space illuminated.
He’d been told, due to the fact it had not been in use for a very long time, this area had not been updated at all since the early 1900s, and the meagre light fixtures proved it.
He moved through the shadowy first room, which could be considered a form of reception area, though not a welcoming one, if the chains affixed to walls, walls not made of glinting snow but of glittering black stone, told the tale.
Next up was a sort of lounge, with rickety tables and chairs left to disintegrate, plus an old iron stove that had provided warmth back in the day for the guards.
It wasn’t providing warmth now, and this area was certainly not included in the temperate seventy-three degrees that the rest of the castle rested at, regardless of its wintry walls.
More magic.
But no magic down there. It was as cold as the Borea Sea.
He moved through the guards’ lounge, down the long hall made of stone punctuated by wood doors, also fortified by iron, that had small, barred windows to look through to see the prisoners and slit doors at the bottom to shove food inside the cells.
At the end of the hall, there was nothing but a stone wall.
Or, to anyone else, it was nothing.
To him, only to him, it was something.
No.
Not something.
Everything.
He could see immediately his half-brother, Arnaud, had been told this tale.
He could also see further proof Arnaud had never been the rightful king of Sky’s Edge.
There were vicious scrapes and black blast marks marring that wall. A great number of them.
He’d tried to get in.
And he’d failed.
Tanyn simply stood there for perhaps two seconds before all the lights in the room illuminated red.
When they did, he wasn’t practiced at it and the muscles of his mouth found it odd, but even so, they moved to form a smile.
It was then the stones started ticking.
The one at eye level moved out, then up. Then another. Another. A fourth. A fifth. Then the sixth, seventh, eighth.
More.
Until those stones formed an arch around a doorway that led into a crimson-lit stairwell that went in one direction.
Down.
He thought of his mother.
He did not think of his father.
He moved through the arch.
And descended.
WANT MORE? Click here to read Chapter 1!
About Kristen Ashley:
Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over eighty romance novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in fourteen languages and she’s sold millions of books.
Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana and was a fourth-generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and she now resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She now writes full-time.
Although romance is her genre, the prevailing themes running through all of Kristen’s novels are friendship, family and a strong sisterhood. To this end, and as a way to thank her readers for their support, Kristen has created the Rock Chick Nation, a series of programs that are designed to give back to her readers and promote a strong female community. You can learn more about Kristen and the Rock Chick Nation on her website.
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