Blog tour: Eye of the Soul (Pool of Souls, Book One) by Terri Rochenski
Welcome to our stop on the Eye of the Soul blog tour. Author Terri Rochenski has provided us with a Top Tens list for her fantasy novel's main character, Hyla. There is also an excerpt to read and enjoy and a giveaway to enter.
Eye of the Soul (Pool of Souls, Book One) by Terri Rochenski
Fantasy
Paperback, 312 pages
Published October 7th 2013 by J. Taylor Publishing
Escape.
That should be Hyla’s first thought as her people are chained and imprisoned for no imaginable reason.
Instead, Hyla finds herself traveling through a land void of Natives, with human soldiers pillaging in desperate pursuit of her, and in search of the mystical Pool of Souls—home to the one man who can save her people.
Or so she believes.
Led by her faith in the deity Fadir, Hyla is met along her journey by Jadon—a human male and fierce King’s warrior, and his childhood best friend Conlin—one of the few Natives aware of his Fadir-given Talents.
Protected by Jadon, guided by Conlin, and with an unfailing belief in the purpose of her pilgrimage, Hyla carries on.
Like her, though, another searches for the Pool, and should he gain access first, everyone she loves, and everything she knows, could be lost.
Forever.
Excerpt:
Cursing her arthritic fingers, Miri squeezed out a rag and draped it over the human man’s hot forehead.
“I’ve seen a lot more harvests than you, old goat,” she muttered, lifting his eyelids. “I’m thinking you’ll never catch up either. Doubt you last another half-moon’s phase.”
Miri pushed to her feet and stretched her hunched back. A heavy sigh slipped past her wrinkled lips as she glanced around the sick house. Keeping the night watch wasn’t too bad—she’d volunteered often since her old bones wouldn’t allow much sleep.“Joints wasted, hearing all but gone …” Miri yanked on the long white braid lying over her shoulder. “I’m the old goat.”
She shuffled down the aisle, woolen kirtle swishing in the silence. A cool, autumn breeze rustled the crimson leaves of the magnolia and palm fronds overhead, drawing her gaze upward. Violet streaks lit the pre-dawn sky.A dog barked, yipped, and fell silent.
Miri peered across the village green to the thatched buildings beyond. A shadow passed between two cottages. Another three hurried toward the neighboring dwelling.
“Sight fading or my mind, too?” Miri rubbed her watery eyes, blinked, and leaned forward. Light flickered through the palm trees behind the outlying homes.Torches?
The flames drew closer, weaving between the trunks.Humans from the mainland? Miri’s hand clutched at her throat. Soldiers. Fadir have mercy.
The men crept through the village, taking up positions at every doorway. Two brutes, more horse-like in size than human, approached the sick house.
Sputtering torch held high, the first strode forward, dark eyes intent upon Miri. A green surcoat covered broad shoulders and fell to his thighs. The golden wheat sheaf of the city of Varosh adorned his chest.
Cold sweat beaded upon Miri’s brow. Breath burst from her lungs, and she moved back, clutching the door jam.
The second soldier stepped closer, chains and shackles clanking in his hand. He stopped two paces away from Miri, and a smile stretched his stubbled cheeks, revealing rotted teeth. “Good morning pointy-ears.”
Miri stared, heartbeat thundering in her ears. She’d been called worse in her eighty-three birth passings but never with such malice.
A single cry rang out across the village, and doors crashed inward. Screams rent the air.
“Don’t fight Native woman,” rotten-teeth sneered, shackles outstretched.
“W-why?” Miri whispered, taking a step backward.
A scowl narrowed his gaze, and his fist shot forward.
Bursts of light and pain exploded through Miri as she crumpled to the floor.
#
Miri’s people huddled on the village green as fall’s pale sun crested the trees. Cold metal had been clasped around their necks and ankles. Many trembled in the cool air, little more than night clothes covering their nakedness. Miri held to her braid with a white-knuckled grip, her head and its egg-sized bump throbbing in time with her pulse.
A handful of other battered Natives who had attempted flight were the last to join them, the soldiers tossing them forward like sacks of potatoes.
Top Ten Things we should know about Hyla
What a topic – yet again!! Sheesh, you folks are being tough on me. Ok. Without giving too much away here are ten things worth knowing about Hyla, the MC in the Pool of Souls Series.
- Orphaned upon her birth, Hyla was raised by a not-so-nice woman who never understood or appreciated her.
- Lonely and desperate for love, Hyla clings to the faith of her forefathers while most of her people continue to stray.
- Hyla apprenticed as an herbalist and healer on the island of Taran, just off the south east corner of the mainland, Derlund.
- Hyla possesses one of the Talents of old—Gifts some might believe, but a curse to her. Seeing Auras and unintentional delving into the souls of people through their eyes leaves emotions and thoughts bare to her.
- Nineteen birth passings have gone by since Hyla’s mother arrived on Taran and gave birth to her without uttering a word about who she or the father was. Hyla inherited her brown hair, Native-green eyes, and pointed ears.
- Petite beyond most of her small-statured people, Hyla is often mistaken for a child or young teenage boy.
- Because of her Talent, Hyla finds it very hard to trust others, even the very few she cares for.
- Not wanting to ‘see’ people, Hyla keeps her head down and cowl up whenever possible.
- Hyla has no hope of ever finding love, of ever having a husband and children who she dreams of lavishing the motherly attention and love she never received.
- Hyla volunteered to gather wild herbs and roots on the mainland of Derlund because she enjoys the seclusion of the deep woods. However, she hates having to visit the apothecary in Holsting, Derlund’s port city across the straight from Taran.
Even had quite a few more I wanted to share, but like I said at the start, can’t give too much away!!!
About the author:
Terri started writing stories in the 8th grade, when a little gnome whispered in her brain. Gundi’s Great Adventure never hit the best seller list, but it started a long love affair with the fantasy genre.
Today she enjoys an escape to Middle Earth during the rare ‘me’ moments her two young daughters allow. When not potty training or kissing boo-boos, she can be found on her back patio in the boondocks of New Hampshire, book or pencil in hand.
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