It's really easy, all you have to do is share a quote from Witch Born.
"Wait!" you say. "We haven't read it yet!"
No fear, gentle reader, I'm providing you with a slew of them. :)
"Where shall we share them?" you add.
The usual places: facebook, twitter, blogs, Pinterest (I've already added a few, so all you have to do is push share), Goodreads has a place you can add them too. One point per share.
The night was so deep the shadows seemed to bleed darkness.
Joshen tipped her chin up and kissed her. He was always soft and gentle, but today Senna felt an undeniable hunger somewhere deep inside him. He was trying to suppress it. But she didn’t want that. She wanted him to banish the lingering foulness of the curse and the fear that had never released her from its sweaty grasp, replacing all of that with the sweet taste of his mouth.
Joshen's brown hair hung over his forehead in waves. His gray eyes—the color of snow in the shade—stood out on his tanned face. The skin around his eyes was creased, as if he never stopped smiling long enough for the lines to smooth out.
From the cover:
The vines of the chesli plants twined partway up the trees. Only visible on a moonless night, the flower’s fuzzy, pollen-scattered centers glowed golden. Moths and insects of a hundred varieties flitted anxiously from one flower to the next, lugging glowing pollen that dusted the air like a thousand falling stars.
“One can’t sacrifice a higher law for a lower one.”
She stared at him.
Reden nodded to himself. “When you’re in that moment of decision, where right and wrong are so mixed up you can’t tell which is which, always remember to follow the higher law.”
It’s what he’d done when he’d sacrificed his home country for the world. “But how do you know which law is higher?”
“It’s usually the decision that’s harder at first, but better in the long run.”
Songs from Witch Born:
Let not the curse of Witches
Destroy a land of natural riches.
Plants, preserve life in thy roots,
Seeds sleep in earth, send forth no shoots
Until the Witches shall disperse
This terrible and unjust curse.
Magic rings and moonbeams,
Star giggles and shadow schemes,
Gallantly slip the singing streams.
The lion basks in the flower’s beams
In the garden of your dreams.
Ember to flame
Scorch and burn
To Cinders and ash
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The winner from last week's contest is Mallary Mott!