Posts tagged larkstorm

This happened:

Dawn Rae Miller’s LARKSTORM and NIGHTINGALE, to Contessa Nyree at Audible, in a two-book deal, by Kathleen Ortiz at New Leaf Literary & Media.

What does that mean? Larkstorm & Nightingale are both being made into audio books by Audible!

Th…

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Finally! Larkstorm is now available on the Barnes & Noble site. It’s also available on Amazon and on Smashwords (for Kobo, Sony, iBooks, etc).

The paperback version will be available shortly (I’ve seen it and it’s GORGEOUS!).

“B?” I call. A deafening silence answers. My heart races and fear courses through my veins. The sick feeling intensifies and I grab at my stomach. Please, please Bethina, please be here. Hunched forward, I run ahead of my housemates, toward the kitchen.

The fully lit kitchen is abandoned. A pot of water boils on the burner. A cookie sheet of biscuits has been flung haphazardly on the counter.

Terrified, I march through the throng of students in front of me. Their scared whispers fill the air. Once past them, I sprint from room to room searching. “Bethina!” I yell.

“Bethina! Where are you?”

Room after room, empty. I begin to believe the unbelievable - that Bethina is gone - when I see her sitting in the oversized striped chair in the living room, not moving. So still she looks almost asleep, except her eyes are open. Open but not really seeing. She’s just staring.

“B?” I ask softly, but she doesn’t answer. I grab her shoulders and shake her.

“Bethina! Are you okay?”

All the others have joined us. The confused group looks to me, as if I should know what’s going on.

The melting snow from our shoes and hats puddles onto the wood floor. I force myself to calm down and take a deep breath. I step back from Bethina into the semi-circle my housemates have formed in front of the chair and survey the scene. Not knowing what to do, I raise my hand and slap Bethina sharply across the face.

Someone gasps.

“Bethina!” I scream, becoming more frightened. “Wake up! Do you know what’s happened?”

The outline of my hand on her cheek turns into an ugly red print.

She moves her head from side to side as if making a mental checklist. I’ve seen her do this many times on our outings – making sure she’s left no one behind, counting and identifying each of us.

“Kyra?” she whispers.

I kneel in front of her and take her hand. “Mr. Trevern took her to see the Headmaster.”
Bethina groans and balls her hand under mine. “But no one else?”

“Not from our group.” I swivel around to scan the group of boys who just entered. My eyes dart over each face, searching.

“Where’s Beck?” I ask.
Bethina makes a weird choking sound. Her tear-stained face contorts. A small movement of her head to the side. The world spins. I know before she says it.

“Beck’s not coming back.”

I hear nothing else because the world goes black. 

“Heya, Birdie, you wanna hurry up a bit? If you haven’t noticed, it’s cold.” Beck waves his gloveless hands in front of me. “Daydreaming again?”

I shake my head. “Did you see that? The snow?”

“What? The snow devil?” His dimple deepens when he grins. “Yeah, it seemed like it was following you.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

He winks. “That’s my Birdie, master of the elements.” He scoops up a handful of snow with his bare hand and tosses it at me. I step to the side and the snow narrowly misses me.

Beck blows on his cold, wet hand and makes puppy eyes at me. I consider giving him grief for throwing the snow at me, but instead, I reach for him. “Give me your hand, Mr. I-Crave-Heat.” I push our joined hands into my pocket. Despite his claim of being cold, his warmth radiates through my glove.

He gives my hand a small squeeze and motions to my wristlet. “Can I share?”

I hit a button, beaming the sound into his feed, and turn up the music. He sings a few lines of the refrain while performing some weird dance move. Beck drags me along after him. I laugh and shove him with my free hand. We stumble, tripping over each other’s feet, but Beck catches me before I fall.

“Nutter,” I gasp between laughs.

“You mean that wasn’t an elaborate excuse to get me to wrap my arms around you?” I know he’s joking, but heat flares across my face. Thank God I’m probably already rosy from the cold.

“You are so bizarre sometimes,” I say as I right myself.

He bows and then shoves his hand back into my pocket.

Around us, the snow dances and sways again. We walk on a few more minutes, Beck leaning into me so that his hand stays connected to mine.