All posts by Sharon Hinck

Bonus Scene 7 – The Restorer’s Son

Bonus Scenes, The Restorer's Son

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The Restorer’s Son – Bonus Scene
In which Zarek anticipates sparring with Kieran
After Chapter 25
Zarek:
            My sword danced, perfectly balanced in my grip. The young soldier across from me responded with such a timid thrust that I barely kept from decapitating him. “Attack me! Stop sniveling.”
            He swung with more vigor, but still kept too much distance to be a threat. How could I ever strengthen my skills when every sparring partner feared accidentally nicking the king?
            My mood darkened, and I advanced on the boy. One of my generals told me this lieutenant was the best swordsman he’d seen in years, but so far he’d acted like a skittish lehken colt. Before I could mount an attack that would force a stronger response, a messenger skidded to a stop in the doorway of the practice hall.
            “Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt, but you asked for a report . . . ” The skinny boy wrung his hands and shifted from foot to foot. More sniveling.
            I sheathed my sword and waved him into the room. “It’s all right. We hadn’t begun yet.”
            The lieutenant, already covered in a sheen of sweat, turned a shade paler and wiped his forehead. The messenger took a few cautious steps into the room.
            “The prison guard reports that Kieran interviewed the woman and she collapsed. The practitioner was summoned, and she recovered.”
            My brows rose. I’d sent Kieran to question the newest trespassers from Braide Wood, not kill them. 
            I sighed and sank onto a nearby bench. “You’re dismissed,” I told the young lieutenant. He gave a stiff bow and half ran from the room. I turned to the messenger. “Tell the prison chief I need a more detailed report. Keep me informed. Oh, and tell my aide I want some orberry wine.”
            The messenger scampered off, and after murmured words outside the door, I enjoyed a few moments of blissful isolation to think. Had I been wrong to trust Kieran with this small job? Did he plan to silence the prisoners because they had information he wanted to keep from me?
            Trust was never a wise plan. My grandfather had been murdered by his most trusted general, who was then killed by my father when he took the throne. I’d fended off several failed coups since becoming king. Kept me alert.
            Maybe I was slipping.
            Though I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, protecting my position every moment of every day created a deep loneliness that even a few convenient temple girls couldn’t chase away. My recent conversations with Kieran were a welcome distraction, and the strange Verses he recited stirred interest in me that I hadn’t felt in years. He’d had a chance to kill me and hadn’t taken it. Still, I knew better than to trust him.
            Kieran had been a welcome diversion and a good Perish opponent, but the things he spoke of had added new complications to my life. Time to get my focus back on protecting my throne. Perhaps I would need to interview the new prisoners myself—as if I didn’t have enough to do with Bezreth pressuring me to reopen the temples, the generals scheming, and enemies threatening every border. 
I drew my sword and indulged in a few patterns, then reluctantly sheathed it. I really needed a good session of sparring. A smile stretched my lips. Perhaps Kieran would be an interesting opponent and far less overcautious than any of my soldiers. My mood lightened as I left the hall and headed toward my quarters.
—
You can find more of the story in The Restorer’s Son.
Blessings!


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New Release Today!

Today is the day! The Deliverer is out – the newest book in the award-winning Sword of Lyric series. Please use the buttons below this post to share the news. Thanks for helping me spread the word. 

A lost songkeeper must lead her people to a long awaited Deliverer

Eager to serve the One, a young songkeeper travels to the dark and foreign nation of Hazor, but her confusing, rough-edged companion has lost his Restorer gifts. As danger rises against them both, she loses her freedom, her memories, and her hope. Now even the very music of her soul is threatened. 

In our world, Susan Mitchell no longer feels at home in the carpool lane. Burdened by the unhealed scars from her trips through the portal, she fights to suppress her worry about her son, who remains out of contact in Lyric. But when a mysterious message hints Jake is in danger, she and her husband are swept away—to the place they least expect.

Clan rebellions. Lost Restorers. Has the One turned away, or will the face of the Deliverer bring light to the darkness?”

Ask for the book at your local bookstore, or order it online today.

Blessings!
Sharon 

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Summer News Tomorrow

Book Buzz

My free summer e-zine goes out tomorrow to my Book Buddy subscribers. If you’d like to receive it in your email, just sign up

HERE.

It’s easy, and I won’t share your email with anyone.
And you’ll never miss out on special updates, contests, or giveaways.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

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Seeking

Devotional Musings, Prayer

I have sought your face with all my heart;
    be gracious to me according to your promise. Psalm 119:58 (NIV)

Lord, thank you for promising that when we seek, we will find. Thank you for wanting to be found by us. Reveal new things about Your nature today. Help us see more of Your grace. Amen.

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Bonus Scene 6 – The Restorer’s Son

Bonus Scenes, The Restorer's Son

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In which Nolan faces a desperate choice.
After Chapter 19
Nolan:
            I tugged my mother’s arm, half supporting her and half dragging her away from the king’s judgment room.
            “Wait,” she said breathlessly. “We should help him.”
            “Who? What are you talking about?” We needed to get out of the palace before another whim changed Zarek’s mind.
            “Kieran. Maybe there is something we could do to—”
            “Mother. Weren’t you listening? The king ordered our deaths. It would be suicide to interrupt again.” I pulled her along and she didn’t have the physical strength to resist.
            She looked back over her shoulder. “But he saved us. We have to try to help him.”
            Rage burned from the core of my being and filled my chest. “Saved us? He’s the reason I was charged with treason. And Zarek nearly had you killed, too. Kieran deserves whatever he gets. Now let’s go!”
            She sagged and I wrapped an arm around her waist. I barely felt the weight of her arm across my shoulders as we raced along crooked hallways and out the main entrance. “Almost home,” I whispered. After a few more streets and a turn down a littered alley, our broken doorway promised refuge. Her legs barely supported her long enough to get inside. I settled her on her pallet and brought water and a new drug patch. She gave me a weak smile and closed her eyes.
            Watching her surrender to sleep stirred my greatest fear: one day I’d see her close her eyes for the last time. No one recovered from Rammelite fever. Her effort to get to the palace and confront the king had probably stolen even more of her limited time. I knew I should feel grateful. She’d saved my life. But for some reason I also felt angry that she’d risked herself.
            I collapsed into our one chair and stretched my feet out, rubbing my wrists which still remembered the manacles. No, I wasn’t angry at her.
            My hand traveled across my forearm. Yesterday, raw broken skin seared with pain at the slightest touch. Now the skin was whole. Even bruises had disappeared. What evil arts did Kieran know that gave him that sort of power? I shivered and jumped out of the chair, pacing our small common room.
            Most of the Braide Wood barbarians had been predictable—clumsy, brutal enemies acting just as I expected. But Kieran had touched a deeper terror in me. I’d been desperate to escape him and thrilled when I succeeded. I’d even indulged some pride as I raced back to Hazor, thinking of the stories I’d tell the other messengers. I’d survived being a prisoner of our enemies, escaped, and brought valuable information for our army . . . or so I’d thought.
            Seeing him in chains in the Hazor cell did little to ease my fear of Kieran. He was a dangerous enemy full of trickery and deceit.
            Why had he used his skill at manipulation to convince the king to free me? Did he really feel remorse? He’d told the king he regretted what he’d done to me. Not likely. He was plotting some other scheme. 
            My mother stirred. She fought hard to hide her pain, but in her sleep, quiet groans escaped. I wanted nothing more than to get us both out of the city and far from all the danger, but she couldn’t travel. For now, I could only keep her comfortable.
I knelt beside her pallet, blotting away the sheen of feverish sweat from my mother’s face. The hollows of her cheeks were deeper than when I’d left for Morsal Plains with the army. I stood and shook out my arms, the weight of chains still lingering. If I ventured out to the markets, perhaps I could beg, borrow, or steal a bit of dried caradoc and make a broth. I wanted to make her better. Every part of me screamed in frustration because I couldn’t. But at least I could get some food into her. With one more worried glance at my mother, I slipped out the door.
—
You can find more of the story in The Restorer’s Son.
Blessings!


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How Are You?

Recent phone conversation with my granddaughter.

“Hi, grandma.”

“Hi, sweetie! How are you?”

Long pause

I try again. “How are you?”

“Um…. I’m tall!”

Guess she told me.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

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Bonus Scene 5 – The Restorer’s Son

Bonus Scenes, The Restorer's Son

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The Restorer’s Son – Bonus Scene

In which Tristan mulls the consequences of sending Kieran away.
After Chapter 15
Tristan:
            I stormed down the path, even angrier than I’d been climbing up to the clearing a short time before. I’d devoted my life to protecting my family and my clan. Now my family was in more danger than ever. Tag had been a pest as a kid sister, but even though I never admitted it to her, her bright chatter had a way of lifting my heart. She trusted everyone, was game to take any dare, and forgave easily. The picture of her being banished–cast from the clans, separated from her children–twisted a hollow pain in my chest. All because of Kieran.
            I’d done the right thing. Sending him away was the only option. He wouldn’t listen to reason, wouldn’t take responsibility for the trouble he caused.
            The ache under my ribs sank lower, a wrenching, bitter, empty throb. All I could do now was limit the harm. Kieran should appreciate that. It was one of his pragmatic theories he liked to spout: when you can’t salvage a situation, at least forestall more damage. If he stayed in the clans with his status as an outcast, he put more innocent people—more of my family—in danger.
            I batted at a low-hanging branch, hitting it so hard it snapped. Holy One, he’s supposed to help us. Why make him a Restorer when he doesn’t acknowledge You and won’t accept his role? 
            Slowing my steps, I gathered my breath. Was I really as angry at the One as I was at Kieran? The thought frightened me. The songkeepers said we could speak honestly to the One, that He knew our hearts anyway. But even when Kendra was lost to Rhusican poison, I’d focused my anger on the enemy, never against the One. 
            My feet had automatically carried me toward home, but as I drew close, I spotted Kendra. Her slim figure had begun to show a subtle roundness. Even her face seemed softer with the hints of motherhood. Her long dark hair fell free behind her as she relaxed in a chair on the porch, her eyes closed. I wanted to run to her, bury my fingers in her rich hair, feel her breath against my face, taste her lips that could erase every painful thought from my mind. 
            Instead I backed into the woods and headed toward the lehken plateau. I couldn’t face her. Once I told her that I’d send Kieran away, could she forgive me? Would things ever be the same between us again?

—
You can read more of the story in The Restorer’s Son.
Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

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