Go On A Compelling Journey With Zehra Liebig 🪄

Feb 01, 2023 4:01 pm

If you've been hanging out on my newsletter for a couple months now, today's "big surprise" might not be a surprise at all. In fact, you might have predicted it.

Let's see. What did C.L. Carhart do a little over a week before she published her last novel, Gift of Fire, on all the retailers back in December? 🧐

Do you remember?

Before I spill the beans, I'd like to take a second to gripe about the fact that right now, I'm hyphenating the paperback version of Gift of Stone. Yes, I hyphenate all of my paperbacks manually. No, I don't like automatic hyphenation. No, I don't want my books looking like some bozo threw them together with words

spaced out unprofessionally and 2 lines of text on the last page of a chapter.

So I'm hyphenating. This takes 2+ days every time. It's tedious. And it also involves slightly reworking/rewriting sentences so they fit properly on a page. And adding content to the chapters with 2 lines on the final page.

Which means those who read the paperback version of Gift of Stone (or any of my other books) will be reading a somewhat different version than the eBook. Weird writerly factoid that you probably didn't care to know. 😉

Now for the awesome surprise....

🪨 Get Gift of Stone Early! 🪨

If you guessed that I set up a PayPal buy button for Gift of Stone, so voracious readers like you can get their hands on Zehra's story BEFORE it publishes on the retailers, well...you guessed right! 🥳

Just yesterday, I uploaded the final version of Gift of Stone onto BookFunnel and connected it to a fresh PayPal buy button. That means you can grab your copy of Zehra's story TODAY and start reading it TODAY. You can pay with either PayPal or your credit card, and BookFunnel will email you a copy of Gift of Stone right away! No waiting around for the retailers to get their acts together.

Also, this broke author will get $2.40 of your $2.99 if you get Gift of Stone this way instead of from the retailers. They pay me $2.07 at most. 😉

If you're a deal hunter like me who needs to buy books at a discount, $2.99 is the best you're going to get where Gift of Stone is concerned. I'll be putting the eBook up to full price—$4.99—on February 17th, so get it now!

If it makes you a little nervous to trust some weirdo indie author like C.L. Carhart to handle payment & delivery (I mean, seriously, who wouldn't be nervous???), never fear. My husband and I both tested the button last night to make sure it works. I bought Gift of Stone with PayPal, and he bought it with his credit card. And guess what? It worked both times!

(And now I have an extra copy of Gift of Stone that I totally don't need. LOL.)

So it's time for you to decide. Do you want to know all of Zehra's dark secrets before the general reading public? Do you want to find out how she adjusts to gaining Teutonic magic as an adult? How she and Henning come to terms with the whole "fated mate, Keyholder & Lady" thing? Whether Zehra manages to rescue her family from human traffickers?

How about the steaminess of an experienced witch & a VIRGIN Teuton priest?

Get your ticket to Zehra's world right here. 👇

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=THBZVMWQA5HT8

Gift of Stone Snippet

In today's snippet, Zehra teams up with Lenz—a retired private investigator and Teuton priest of darkness—in an attempt to break her mother and brother out of the seedy motel-slash-trafficking-front where they unwillingly reside. Zehra is on the front lines for this rescue—and she's terrified. 😱

***

I thought over the plan again as I crouched before the waterfall to feed the fish. The usual ones arrived right away to snag flakes from the surface, while the golden tenches—bottom feeders—would clean up later. Lenz had enchanted a plain black hoodie for me to wear, along with black jeans and shoes with silent treads. Once I raised the hood to conceal my hair, his elemental darkness would hide my features from human eyesight and cameras.

I could not use the hood until I finished riding public transportation.

Truth to be told, the prospect of riding the train and bus by myself freaked me out more than any other aspect of our plan. When Lenz told me that it would be best if we traveled to the appropriate locale separately, I protested, my anxiety shooting through the roof. I had not ridden a train or bus in ages, and I feared other travelers might try to speak with me if I sat alone. Lenz assured me I would be fine, since we intended to pull off the rescue during daytime hours. He advised me to bring a random book to help me blend in with commuters.

This past week, I had ridden the train to the necessary stop four times as a spirit, then transferred onto the bus that would deposit me a short walk from the motel and compound. Once I stepped off the bus, I must raise my hood and keep my head down while I walked to my father’s property. I would have to approach the motel from the far side, so I could catch my mother at her housekeeping duties without passing by the lobby’s windows.

Lenz would drive my Truhtein’s black Mercedes to the neighborhood after switching out the license plates and filling the gas tank. He planned to await me in the parking lot of a nearby beer garden—one which sported no cameras. Both of us had verified that. He had also gotten us a pair of disposable SIM cards for our cell phones, so we could destroy evidence of our communication after my mother and brother were safe. I was supposed to call his number and let the phone ring twice just before I stepped in range of the motel's cameras. Then Lenz would block their lenses with his darkness.

That, of course, would alert anyone watching that something was amiss. But my father would be far away at the mosque in München, unable to intervene for at least a couple hours. His Teuton partner would likely be elsewhere, for Lenz had tracked him the past two Friday afternoons to a retirement home in Bamberg. He seemed to be visiting his mother each time, which should delay his interference long enough for us to get my family out.

From what we observed during our stakeout, my father and his partner were the key players at this particular compound. There were some hired minions of the mundane variety—some who delivered goods while others guarded the basement vault and occasionally patrolled the rest of the compound. Since I was supposed to meet my mother while she cleaned one of the front-facing motel rooms, I should not encounter any guards.

Murat should have no trouble getting out, either, since he said no one ever bothered him when he wandered outside the compound. He sometimes kicked a soccer ball around the back lot, though he admitted disinterest in the sport. Today, his job was to convince my mother he felt too sick to attend school, so he could be left alone to pack and prepare for my arrival.

Then, once the three of us reached my Truhtein’s Mercedes, it was up to me to break the shackle off my mother’s ankle. Lenz believed my element was potent enough to stifle the anklet’s energy and snap it in half. I had practiced coating my hands in stone and breaking unnecessary objects every day this week. Still, I worried as I watched the fish enjoy their breakfast.

“This would be so much easier if I could do the whole thing as a spirit,” I murmured to myself, musing on how skilled I had gotten at sending my spirit from one place to another in seconds. Out of all types of elemental magic, that was one I had mastered already, along with freeing my spirit from my body. The moments of breathlessness no longer petrified me whenever my element transformed my flesh into solid rock. “Then I could return to my body if something goes wrong.”

I sighed through my nose and frowned, getting to my feet for a good stretch before heading back to the house. Of course, I knew why Lenz insisted I do this deed in my mortal body. As outsiders, neither my mother nor Murat could see my spirit. Also, I had not yet managed to break anything while drifting around in spirit form. And it would be too tempting to flee to my body and leave my family behind to face the fallout, if something went wrong.

This time I would not fail my mother. She deserved a life of her own.

Right before noon, as I sat stiffly in the front parlor with a Mercedes Lackey novel in my lap, too distracted to absorb its plot, my ringtone prompted me to jerk to attention. Snatching my phone off the arm of the leather sofa, I flipped it open. “Zehra Liebig.” My voice sounded small.

“Lenz here. Your father left for München an hour and a half ago. I tracked his Bentley all the way to Ingolstadt. Remmi just ordered lunch at the McDonald’s drive-thru on the other side of A73. He’s on his way north to Bamberg. Your mother and brother are on the property as expected.”

“Okay.” Lenz had observed everyone’s comings and goings that morning in spirit form, as agreed. “You coming to get Philipp’s car?”

“On my way. It’s about time you head for the bus stop.”

“On it. I’ve even got a book, like you said.” I passed through the front door as I spoke, locking it behind me and securing the key in the left hand pocket of my jeans. I had stuffed my book in my hoodie’s pocket, Lenz’s darkness spell addling my spirit as I marched toward the iron gate. The bus stop was a minute’s walk from Liebig property.

“Zehra?”

“Yes?” I undid the lock upon the gate by directing my stone magic into its mechanisms and forcing them to loosen. Another trick I had been practicing.

“You can do this. Philipp believed in you, and so do I.”

For some reason, tears threatened to well in my eyes at Lenz’s sentiment. I took a deep breath as I shut and locked the gate behind me, then said, “Thanks,” into the phone. I heard a dial tone. Lenz had already hung up.

I was on my own to meld with noonday commuters and tourists.

Help.

To my relief, none of my fellow travelers bothered me, like Lenz predicted. Most seemed thoroughly invested in their own matters, some reading newspapers or books, some texting, some herding children. By the time I exited the local bus at the village a quarter kilometer from the motel, I had begun to believe everything would come together seamlessly. Although my muscles remained tense, my stone filtered lightly along my veins, ready to come to the fore at the first sign of danger.

I raised my hood when I stepped onto the sidewalk, striking out toward the edge of town. I sensed Lenz’s darkness enveloping me, granting my own magic an extra boost. Smiling to myself, I stuck my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, sliding on a snug pair of black leather gloves. Tracing a finger along the spine of my book, I wondered whether it was wise to read fantasy novels in public, now that I was a Teuton. Would witchy reading material inspire outsiders to look twice?

Don’t be silly, Zehra, I ordered myself, catching sight of the beer garden where Lenz awaited me. Lackey’s griffons aren’t anything like elemental magic. You still look like a human female, and scientists can’t detect the enhancements in your blood. Thank goodness.

I scoured the beer garden’s parking lot as I passed, noticing my Truhtein’s black Mercedes parked beneath a shade tree. Lenz had backed into the spot, likely to make a quicker escape once my family and I piled into the back seat. Even with my magic sharpening my vision, I could not see anything inside the car. Lenz had darkened the windows with his element; they were not actually tinted.

Turning my attention back to the sidewalk before me, I jumped at the sound of my cell phone ringing. My eyebrows came together, for that was not part of the plan. I was the one who was supposed to call once I reached my father's territory. My right hand began to tremble with apprehension as I dug my phone out of my pants pocket. “Zehra Liebig.”

“Lenz. Wanted to give you a heads up that we have a slight problem.”

The silvery veil did not lift from my eyes. “Oh?” My voice cracked.

“One of your father’s minions is taking a rather long smoke break in front of the lobby. Not sure if he’s going to patrol the area after he’s done. But you might want to keep your mother inside until he returns to the compound.”

Dread began to wreak havoc with my composure. “Can you distract him? Or would that make things worse?”

***

Learn the answer literally today by grabbing your copy of Gift of Stone from the big button at the link below. (Side note for any bald old men out there: You ought to like this book. Lenz gets himself a freaking hot female by the end. 💖)

https://bf.clcarhart.com/keag4pmhtb

Random Cat Photo

Thunar has found himself a "comfortable" place to lounge, squished between my husband's legs, some pillows, and the back of our futon. It occurred to me recently that anywhere a cat sprawls is comfortable for them . . . because they're covered in fur! Must be nice to take a portable fur pillow everywhere you go!

Thunar wishes I would quit yapping about his fur and find him something to eat. He wants to remind you that every book you buy from his mommy supports his treat addiction. (And his mommy's diet soda addiction.) 😉

💕 Romantic Fantasy In February 💕

Got a bunch of books for you to browse in today's book fair. It's the start of a new month, which means all the BookFunnel fairs are untamed & untried. 👀 What lurks within this particular fair? Steamy Romance? Witchy Magic? Fairytale Fantasies? Unusual twists & turns? Limited time deals?

Pretty sure I might have to browse this fair myself. 🤔 Come join me!

✨ Check It Out! ✨