Today Lynn Veevers and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the
cover and an exclusive content for CHLOE SHIPTON & THE QUILL OF LEFAY, her
new YA Fantasy which releases June 12, 2018! Check out the awesome cover and
enter the giveaway for your chance to win $25 Amazon voucher!
On to the reveal!
CHLOE SHIPTON & THE QUILL OF LEFAY
By Lynn Veevers
Pub. Date: June 12, 2018
Publisher: Lynn Veevers
Formats: Paperback,
eBook
Pages: 263
When fifteen-year-old Chloe mysteriously disappears, the rumors at Grammaire Hall point to murder, but spiritual entrapment isn’t the same as dead. In a library that’s believed to be nothing more than a myth, Chloe's spirit is separated from her body after witnessing another student's murder. Try as she may she can't remember what happened to her before she woke up as a spirit in the campus graveyard. As Chloe uncovers clues leading to the mythical library's location and her body, a secret the Magical Parliament doesn't want to get out, starts to unravel. Rogue sorcerers have infiltrated the school, intent on reinstating the Third Edict, and sorcery students are dying because of it. Destroyed long ago for horrific crimes against humanity, the return of the Third Edict would spell disaster for both magical and magicless societies. To prevent her own demise and the fulfillment of the Third Edict’s return, Chloe must find a way to reunite body and soul without giving the rogue sorcerers the weapon they need to succeed, a weapon only Chloe can activate.
Exclusive Excerpt!
The screams ripped at my heart as I listened to the desperation that
permeated them, “Please don’t hurt me anymore,” the voice cried, “I told you, I
don’t know what you’re talking about!”
The girl’s voice in my mind was a familiar one, and not in a
good way either. Unwanted concern weaseled its way into my heart because there
was genuine pain echoing in her words. I tried shaking off the unsettled
emotions her pleas left in their wake and headed toward the librarian’s desk
again. I didn’t want to care about whatever jam she’d gotten herself into.
Suppressing the guilt that riddled me proved difficult, but for a short time, I
was successful. Mrs. Martin checked out my books and the inescapable feelings
of guilt kept growing as the desperate cries continued. Finally, my conscience
caught up with me as I reached for the door leading outside. A defeated sigh
wiggled its way through my lips, and I cast my eyes upward because I couldn’t
ignore this even if I wanted to.
I needed to do the right thing, not because it was my first
choice, but because I felt compelled to. My morals demanded nothing less. If
someone was in trouble, you tried to help, even if you didn’t like them. That’s
what my parents raised me to believe anyway, and so it didn’t make a difference
that the girl’s voice belonged to Lydia Nostredame—the single biggest bane of
my existence. Hate is a strong word, but my feelings toward Lydia were
something dangerously close to that. My gut told me not to get involved, to
ignore my conscious and leave instead. Unfortunately, my intuition was next to
never wrong. Maybe I should have listened to it. However, my views of right and
wrong were a force to be reckoned with, and they weren’t pulling any stops. The
two opposing sides battled it out as I stood there with my hand on the knob.
After a few moments of inner turmoil, my moral stance won out. So I left the
door and headed back into the library. Lydia’s cries ricocheted through my head
like a stray bullet looking for a mark. They became tortured screams as I
hurried in the direction my mind told me they were coming from.
“Ms. Shipton,” Mrs. Martin said sternly. “We do not run
through the Library!”
I cringed at the sharpness of her tone and slowed my pace to
appease the librarian. As soon as that same group of snickering girls snagged
the stoic woman's attention, I darted forward. Lydia’s screams had grown to a
deafening intensity. Like the tolling of church bells, they drowned out every
other sound. The sharp shrill of them poked at my temples, and the pain was
worse than any migraine I’d ever had. My feet carried me across the familiar
parts of the library and into the further reaches which were seldom ever
visited—by anyone. That should have been my first clue.
“Stairs—dark, ominous stairs, of course; why wouldn’t that
be the case,” I sarcastically mumbled as I came to a door.
I assumed I’d just never noticed the stairs. After all, I’d
only ventured to this part of the library maybe once before. The stair’s door
was only partially open but had it been closed I would have thought it was a
broom closet. The stairs twisted down into the unknown depths, dimly lit, and
narrowing by the second. I was starting to feel as if they might spiral on
forever when I finally reached a stone floor. The smell of musty tomes and aged
ink filled the stagnant air. There were rows upon rows of shelving easily
fifteen feet high. Layers of dust covered sheet draped chairs and tables.
Cobwebs, also thick with grime, adorned most everything in this hidden library.
“Please stop, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I
swear—I don’t know anything,” Lydia screamed, but it was weaker than before.
I was close enough by then to hear her conventionally. Her
voice was drenched in terror and quivering with tears. It echoed and bounced
off the milled stone walls of this underground secret I quietly snuck through.
Once again my gut adamantly insisted that I turn back, but I stubbornly ignored
it. My tendency to be good-natured had baited and lured me into the situation
entirely. There would be no turning back no matter how much my intuition
screamed at me. I slinked through the columns of shelved books as the feeling
of danger settled over my skin like static cling on a warm blanket. I glanced
at my arm as goose bumps raced across its tawny surface and the thin layer of
peach fuzz stood on end. The sensation sent an unsettling shiver running down
the length of my spine. The further in I moved through the rows the thinner the
air seemed to become. It felt like I was trying to breathe around a piece of
food lodged in my throat. Sweet smelling smoke wafted around me in a lazy wisp
as I stood at the edge of a row of books. I recognized the scent immediately as
sweet grass, a common reagent used in spells.
About The Author
Lynn Veevers
Lynn Veevers is originally from
Washington State. With her mother being from Christchurch, New Zealand and her
father being a well-traveled retired Navy Chief, Lynn has always had a
fascination with different cultures around the world. An avid reader, she prefers
books that take her to a place she's never been and teach her something new at
the same time. The Young Adult Genre is her absolute favorite to read, so it
comes as no surprise that it is also her favorite to write. Lynn, on average,
pens two to three novels a year with the sequel to Pinnacle in the publishing
process now!
Today Lynn lives with her husband and
kids in Southeast Oklahoma. Her young adult and adolescent children are
supportive and avid beta readers of her work and give her a straightforward and
honest point of view about how authentic her characters voices and
personalities are for their age group. What better reference than someone close
to the same age as the main character. Her kids always have and always will be
her greatest inspiration.
Giveaway Details:
One lucky winner will receive a $25Amazon
gift card, International.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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