Title: If Ever I Would Leave You:
Arthurian Stories For A New Generation
Authors: Jessica Jarman, Bronwyn Green, Jenny Trout writing as Abigail Barnette
Release Date: 07/2014
Release Date: 07/2014
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Surfacing
Surfacing
Bronwyn Green
A year after Tabby Nolan’s
sister vanished from the Lake Michigan shore with her boyfriend, Liam,
Tabby visits the spot where the two were last seen– and finds herself
pulled into the crumbling world of Avalon.
Since his disappearance, Liam
has been trapped in the mythical land, with no link to the world he knew.
Now, their shared memories of Tabby’s missing sister are all they can
cling to as Avalon dies around them.
But Tabby doesn’t want to be
a replacement for her sister, and her growing attachment to Liam feels
like a betrayal. As Avalon fades around them, Liam and Tabby must rely on
each other– or be lost with the ancient kingdom forever.
Albion’s Circle: The Deepest
Cut
Jessica Jarman
For nineteen years, Anna has
been plagued by dreams of lives lived only in legend. Finally free from
the family that believed her hopeless and worthless, she’s ready to start
her life over—alone.
When Anna meets an enigmatic
stranger claiming to be the legendary wizard Merlin, she is forced to
question the very reality she’s struggled to accept. With the mythic
figures from her dreams intruding on her waking life, Anna learns that
she’s been reborn to fight an ancient evil alongside King Arthur and his
Knights of the Round Table.
Caught in an ages old
conflict, Anna is the key to stopping a dark magic that will destroy the
world—and Merlin wants to make sure that this time, Anna isn’t alone.
A Choice Fit For A Queen
Jenny Trout
writing as Abigail Barnette
For
perpetual overachiever Madison Lane, a summer studying Arthurian mythology
in the Welsh countryside with professor Thomas Evans is a dream come true,
and the adventure of a lifetime.
Of course, the enormous
crush Madison developed on the professor after a semester of his lectures
at U of M has absolutely nothing to do with her desire to learn more about
the enduring legend of Camelot. At least, that’s what she’s telling
her parents.
When Madison
meets fellow student Rhys Crewe, sparks fly, throwing her plans for wild
fling with Professor Evans completely out of whack—as do her unexpectedly
complicated feelings for Thomas. With tales of Arthur and Lancelot
haunting her every waking moment, Madison has to make the most difficult
choice of her life.
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EXCERPT
Albion’s
Circle: The Deepest Cut
By
Jessica Jarman
I don’t know how long I sat
there, shaking, trying to pull myself together. And failing miserably. Behind
my closed lids, images flipped rapidly, almost too fast to distinguish one from
another. Almost. But they were as familiar to me as my own reflection. I knew
each and every one. Not just faces this time—though, they were there—but
places, buildings, events all clouded my mind, tried to burrow in and refused
to be shoved aside. It was fierce and brutal, as if these imaginings were
fighting back for all times I’d tried to bury them or cut them out of my life.
It didn’t make sense. I shook my
head and moaned as the movement sent a wave of pain through my body. God, why
was this happening to me? Why was it getting worse? I knew what my mother would
say. I’d stopped taking all the medications she and her army of doctors shoved
at me my entire life. Well, I’d stopped years ago, so that wasn’t the reason.
And those medications… I’d rather be dead than take them again. I felt dead when I was under their
influence. That was the reason I’d stopped. I wanted to feel, to live, and they
made that impossible. So, as soon as I’d left home, I threw out the pills and
never looked back. Things had gotten bad then, but I learned how to deal with
it and function normally—without killing everything that made me me.
At first, on my own, I did a lot
of stupid things. Stupid, stupid things. All I wanted to do was feel—so I
partied hard, drank more than my fair share, and took just about every drug I
came across. Not my finest moments. I got over that real quick. Waking up every
morning in a different bed with a different person, with no idea what I’d done…
Not how I wanted to go through life.
After a time, I realized some
sleeping pills to help me get a solid night’s sleep—a solid, dreamless night’s sleep—was all I really
needed.
Until now apparently.
I fumbled with the zipper on my
purse and started digging through the contents. My fingers closed around a
bottle, and I looked at it resting in my palm. That was the problem. The pills
weren’t working. Fucking Nate. I threw the unlabeled bottle back into the bag
as anger joined the constant pain.
Nate was who I got the sleeping
pills from. It was easier than trying to get a doctor to prescribe them—they
always wanted to talk about why I wasn’t sleeping, and the hell if I was going
there with anyone—and cheaper than paying for office visits and all that shit.
My breathing hitched as I felt
solid steel at the bottom of my bag. I pulled out the pocketknife with
trembling fingers.
The pills I’d gotten from Nate
the other night were bad. They had to be. Because the alternative—that I was as
crazy as my mother thought I was—couldn’t be. Could it? I wasn’t crazy. I
pulled the blade of the knife open and fought against the bile surging up my
throat.
I wasn’t crazy. Hitching up my
skirt, I stared at my thighs, and the pale thin marks I kept hidden from the
world. My vision blurred until I couldn’t see clearly, and I was biting back
sob after sob. I couldn’t let Henry hear me. I needed to get control, so I
could deal with Nate and his fucking shit-batch of pills.
I wasn’t crazy. I pressed the
blade against my inner thigh. I still couldn’t see, but that was okay. I knew
just how hard to push, how to drag the sharp tool slowly along my skin. My lids
fluttered shut, and my breathing evened out as I felt the initial prick then
the soothing sting.
I wasn’t crazy. I just needed to
focus. And this…this brought me focus. This made things clear. I opened my eyes
and watched crimson well up in thin lines, getting thicker and thicker until it
began sliding down, down, down. A few beads dripped onto the floor, and in that
moment, everything quieted inside me.
Five. It’d only taken five
stripes to come back together again this time.
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