#6 day count down

#FridayFeelings

They're fantastic! I've been beavering away, preparing more things for the launch of Agricola's Bane - the eBook next week on the 15th, and the local paperback launch the following week on the 22nd Nov.

I've got a fabulous Blog Tour organised with 16 lovely Bloggers helping me to spread the word. I'm about to add them to a sidebar to make it nice and easy to see where I'll be appearing during the coming weeks.

Yesterday, I emailed off 10 Press Releases to local newspapers and another few to local radio stations. It's time consuming but in only a matter of hours I've had a tremendous response but I'm keeping that first one a nice little secret for a whiley. :-)

I'll send off a few more Press Releases to other Scottish Newspapers this afternoon, and then it'll be time to get some excerpts all ready to use for publicity. To start the ball rolling here's one to whet the appetite for my lovely young female warrior- Enya. If the image at left makes her look intense- it's true, she can be!

When Enya reached Colm, the soldier she had poled to the ground squealed and bleated as he squirmed to free his upper arm from the entrapment, his attempt to break the shaft unsuccessful. Frantically swinging it in her direction, the young auxiliary whirled and bucked to avoid the slashes of her blade. As she raised her long knife anew, the end of the spear walloped against her jaw, the impact splintering the tip, the sudden pain excruciating. The blow was not sound enough to knock her over, but the jarring sent the man sprawling. Landing heavily on his side, he yelped when the pole cracked asunder, the spear tip still stuck firmly in his upper arm. Forcing him onto his front with one well aimed boot roll, Enya clipped away the shallow helmet neck-guard with her knife.

She had him at her mercy but she would give him none.

Striking repeatedly at the freed flesh with her long blade, which was not much shorter than the Roman’s gladius, a white hot rage engulfed her. Blood spattered and bone cracked.

Would her Celtic lands never be free of the Roman scum? The next cut was for Ruoridh. Another hack was for her cousin, Beathan, and more for Feargus’ dead kin from Monymusk. Her blade continued a repetitious slashing. Her brother would be found or avenged. Either way, she vowed to remove as many of the Roman usurpers as she could.

“Enya!”

Fergus’ noisy reprimand eventually penetrated her frenzy. Lowering her blade she stared at him, the thudding inside her chest almost engulfing her.

It was his palms cradling her shoulders and his soft voice at her ear that reminded her to breathe properly. “Enough. He will trouble Colm no longer.”

Slainthe!