I am honored to have on my blog today
and Allies and Enemies (Storm of Arranon #3)
About the Author
Before I wrote, I read. Voraciously. When I wasn’t able to read, I listened to audio books on tape or CD. Still do.
Hi. My name is Robynn E Sheahan and I live and write from the Cascade Mountains of the Pacific Northwest.
I started to dabble in writing while working as a Paramedic/Firefighter in Northern California. Trust me, it’s not like it appears on TV. There was plenty of time for books.
Ideas from dreams follow me into warm sunny days or the quiet of falling snow. What ifs feed a vivid imagination. Even miss-typed phrases may lead to an aha moment. Brain storming sessions standing in windy, dark parking lots with fellow writers release thoughts that pry at the corners of my mind, grasping for purchase. Sometimes the ideas pursue me, with persistence.
About six years ago the dabbling became serious when worlds and characters screamed for, no, demanded attention. So I wrote my first manuscript. Critiques and rewrites filled the next five years.
I now had STORM OF ARRANON, the first book in the series. Storm of Arranon Fire and Ice quickly followed. Then Storm of Arranon Allies and Enemies. Book four is in a rough draft, no title as yet, and should be done by Spring 2015. Book five awaits it’s turn!
Social Media Links:
About the Book
Allies and Enemies (Storm of Arranon #3)
by R.E. Sheahan
Paperback, First, 299 pages
Published October 12th 2014 by Rule of Three Press
A vicious attack on life and love. A race to deny death. Trust blurs and alliances break. The chase begins.
A powerful evil threatens the natural balance of Arranon, endangering all that lives. No less important to Captain Erynn Yager, a life treasured above her own hovers in a coma, close to death.
In a race to uncover a cure and stop the mounting peril, Erynn risks everything—becoming the hunted. She challenges authority and allies herself with a being others believe a mortal enemy. In pursuit of the true evil, Erynn finds the line blurred between those they trust and those set against them.
Answers remain beyond reach.
Erynn embraces her abilities, joining her will with the living consciousness of Arranon. Her authority and confidence rises, and she strikes out against a murderous cruelty—becoming the hunter.
Want to purchase this awesome book? You can find it on AMAZON
Goodreads Giveaway ~ Hop on over to goodreads for a chance to win a copy of this book
Giveaway ends Nov 5, 2014
Take a Peek…
From Chapter 1
The shadow-cloaked figure sprang from a crevice in the tunnel’s dark rock wall, delivered a single lightning-quick strike, and disappeared swiftly into the gloom.
A fraction too late, Jaer registered a blade flashing in the muted-yellow glow of widely spaced overhead lights. He reeled back in shock and disbelief, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain. His mind screamed for his body to respond, to pursue, to crush the assailant.
Instead he crumpled to the cold stone floor.
Jaer’s anger surged. He struggled to raise his head and survey the immediate area. A dark pool spread beneath him. Thoughts drained from him like his flowing blood. His head dropped back to the rough stone with a thump. Frosty numbness raced from the tips of his fingers, up his arms, and into his core. Deep shadows swooped. Death’s black cape billowed, folding a thick darkness over the surreal scene, stealing sight, but not before Jaer knew he was alone in the dim corridor.
Memories swirled through his mind, racing backward. Jaer fought to pull his consciousness to the present, but all attempts failed him. He groaned, wincing at the piercing burn in his chest. “Who . . .” The single word was a muted whisper slipping between trembling lips.
Warm blood trickled down the neatly trimmed hair of his beard. His fingers twitched, lifted feebly. He didn’t have the strength to raise his arm and wipe at his chin. His hand stilled and he fought the urge to cough. A shallow breath shuddered into his lungs with a slow rattle. He no longer felt connected to the floor beneath him.
A brilliant white beam of light opened before him. There was no pain, no cold, nothing—only a vague sensation of floating.
Jaer’s battle was now with Death itself.
And Death meant to win.
Captain Erynn Yager turned away from a golden sunset over the snow-covered scramble pad and staggered as a sharp pain tore into her chest. She stumbled a few steps, entering the immense hangar bay and stopped, gasping and clutching her heavy flight coat. Her gaze darted across pale shadows under Interceptor wings and tail sections, and peered into open cargo holds.
She found no assailant.
Numb fingers groped for her holstered staser, eager to get off a shot before the unseen attacker finished her. She hadn’t detected the familiar high-pitched buzz and arc of white-hot energy from a discharging weapon, even after the bolt struck her.
She pulled her weapon free, flinched and spun, aiming a trembling staser toward a scream of grinding metal.
At the far side of the hangar, a mechanic smoothed a surface weld on a Herk [HrC-Hover Craft]. Ground crews bustled around various aircraft, going about their duties, unaware of any intruder.
Erynn wavered on unsteady legs. She unclenched her fist and drew a shaking hand forward. Her thick white coat blossomed red. Warm blood dripped, spattering her boots and forming icy crystals as it struck the stone floor. The sharp coppery scent of this life-giving fluid filled her nostrils. Heat drained from her body. Her cheeks numbed, and she was enveloped in a cold sweat.
She stared down, her vision unfocused as the bloody image vanished, and pain receded. Clarity returned, the scene around her sharp and vivid. Only a fading sensation of the burning, tearing ache that had stabbed into her remained.
In Erynn’s peripheral vision Whill, the transport bay chief appeared.
He stopped next to her. “Captain, I have those coordinates . . . Captain? Are you all right?” His gray eyes widened. “Erynn! What’s wrong? What happened? You’re white as new snow.” Whill reached out to steady her with one hand while tapping the COM implanted under the skin behind his ear with the other. “General Athru. This is Transport Chief Whill. There’s trouble in the hangar bay. It’s Erynn.” Long gray hair fanned over Whill’s shoulders as he swung his head right, left, and then back to Erynn. “Yes, General. The area appears secure, and I’m not leaving her.”
Erynn wiped sweat from her face, sliding the staser back into its holster, her hand steadying. She shook her head. “Please. I’m . . . I don’t want Cale to worry.” She took in a deep breath and straightened. “Really. I’m fine. It . . . was . . . just . . .” She frowned.
“I’ll let General Athru decide if he should be worried or not.” Whill’s tone wavered with concern.
Whill’s strong emotions flowed over Erynn, interrupting her thoughts as she tried to concentrate. She sensed Cale’s approach. His apprehension surged ahead of him like a giant wave of energy, crashing down on her. Cale’s anxiety united with Whill’s in a barrage against Erynn’s attempt to focus on and interpret the terrifyingly real vision she’d experienced.
With Cale nearly here, Jaer must also be rushing to the hangar bay. Just the thought of Jaer’s powerful presence calmed Erynn. Together they would sort out this prophecy of death.
“Jaer.” The high voices of the Anim Blath—a sentient life form that linked her to the living world of Arranon—sang in Erynn’s mind, carrying his name like an icy arrow shooting straight into her heart.
She knew. Comprehension slammed into her, replacing her internal warmth with the cold dread of certainty. Erynn’s heart skipped and then raced. A bounding pulse throbbed behind her eyes. The hair on the back of her neck rose as frosty fingers walked the ladder of her spine. Her knees again threatened to buckle.
Her heart, her soul, her life—Jaer. The pain she’d experienced was his. The attack had happened to him. Erynn stiffened, eyes narrowing, her hands curling into tight fists. Heat fueled by rage flared into a fire that melted the ice encasing her heart. She turned and pulled from Whill’s grasp.
General Cale Athru, the base commander, sprinted from the outer corridor and through the main access. Long coppery-brown hair heavily streaked with gray swung with each jarring step, the colors a vivid contrast to his white flight suit. Several security officers kept pace with and surrounded him, weapons at the ready.
Whill touched Erynn’s arm. “Wait. General Athru is here, Erynn. Just . . . wait.”
Erynn watched Cale’s rapid approach. She fought the urge to run past him, away from the golden light of early evening streaming inside the hangar bay, and begin the search for Jaer. Her calmer, more logical side prevailed. She locked eyes with Cale as he stopped in front of her. Her voice relayed the urgency ready to explode from deep inside. “We have to find Jaer. He’s been attacked—stabbed!”
Cale tapped behind his ear, activating the COM implanted there, his tense expression deepening the lines around his eyes. “Aven, alert the Anbas. There’s been an attack. Search every tunnel, every warren, all quarters and holds. Security teams are at your command.” He was silent a moment, listening, his lips drawing into a thin line. His answer to Aven’s unheard question came out in a low growl. “It’s your brother. He’s . . . wounded.”
Jaer watched an apparition shimmering with a bright blue radiance walk toward him from the far end of the blinding tunnel of light.
Long brown hair cascaded over the ghostly presence’s shoulder as he knelt down on one knee. “It is not yet your time, Jaer, Fayn of the Anbas Warriors. You have more to do. Both of you have more to accomplish before Arranon is finally safe.” He glanced at Jaer’s wound, and his shining face darkened with concern. “A poisoned blade,” he whispered and pressed his ethereal hand over the gaping puncture. “Only so much I can do, no more. This time, she must save you.”
Pressure from the spectral being’s touch produced a fierce heat that flowed into Jaer, driving the numbness from his body. His lips barely moved as he faintly mouthed the words. “The light . . . so beautiful . . . warm . . . I will go.”
The spirit smiled. Sympathy in his brown eyes shone through a profound sadness. “She is your light, and your warmth, Fayn Jaer. As you are hers.” His visage faded.
“Wait. Who is she? Who are you?” Jaer whispered, his voice less substantial than the ghostly specter.
The blinding light faded and the dim corridor came into focus.
Words drifted from out of the dark. “I am Zander, her father.”
Death’s black cloak whipped and snapped in an angry retreat.
Exclusive…Here is a little teaser for book four
Captain Erynn Yager’s heart thumped forcefully in her chest, a throbbing pulse bounding in her ears. She trotted down the gloomy circular staircase, boot heels drumming hand-carved stone steps. She raked long red curls from her eyes, tucking an errant strand behind one ear.
Her fingers reached for the wall, traced the cold, rough texture of curved rock etched with symbols of Arranon’s ancient language, Comhra, feeling their outline. Icy dread coiled around her spine, chilling her to the core. Emotions high, currents built. Electro magnetic energy trailed from her fingertips, leaving a brilliant blue ribbon under her touch that quickly faded into darkness.
Erynn’s rapid breathing echoed in the close space, giving her a brief sensation of confinement. She jumped the last step and pushed at a narrow but heavy side-door into the windowless, cellar office of Glaskra’s city administrator, Leathan Tal. Wood rasped, piercing and harsh against the gray stone floor.
Leathan leaned on the edge of a massive desk. “We’ve had no word from—” He quickly straightened, twisting toward Erynn’s hasty entrance. “Erynn?” Leathan glanced uneasily at her, his eyes wide. From the hearth behind the desk, orange flames radiated a warm glow that shimmered in his long gray hair.
Erynn skidded to a stop in front of him, pulling in a ragged breath.
The faint, smoky scent of countless past fires permeated the space.
“You haven’t heard from Sean or Tiar or Roni?” She took a step forward, close enough to see the white stubble on his gaunt cheeks. “Why wasn’t I told?” Fear skipped and tumbled along her nerves. Uninvited possibilities filled her thoughts, terminating in one horrible outcome. Dhoran.
Sovereign of Arranon’s dark, warm underworld, centuries old, power hungry, clever and malevolent. Due to a blended parentage—his mother was from the surface of Arranon and his father was from the underworld—he possessed astonishing supernatural abilities.
Since Dhoran’s spirit had awakened from a death-like sleep and possessed a human only weeks ago, his new body continued to strengthen . . . and change.
A foreboding shiver coursed through Erynn. She had seen Dhoran in a state of partial transformation. Once his spirit gained control, his strength of will actually altered the outward characteristics of the host.
By now a full conversion could be complete—glossy red-gold scales rising and falling over heavy muscling. His gold-green eyes with elliptical pupils revealed a critical and unforgiving nature. A depraved smile displayed sharp teeth, more animal than human. Powerful hands with thick fingers ended in keenly edged claws.
Leathan frowned. The expression amplified the lines around pinched hazel eyes. His gaze darted toward the front of the small room before returning to Erynn. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning. It’s . . . it’s not a good time.”
Sympathy and concern rushed from him, flooding Erynn. The walls seemed to close in, leaving no air. She narrowed her exposure to his emotional barrage by envisioning a broad beam of light spiraling into a pinpoint of radiance. This trick always worked, reducing the emotions of others that so often bombarded her.
The claustrophobic sensation faded. Movement from the corner of her eye drew her awareness to the main door of the office. Erynn’s gaze followed Leathan’s to the front, and she froze.
Jaer, Fayn of the Anbas Warriors, stood with his back against the doorframe, arms crossed. His black uniform—thick tunic, heavy quilted pants, and tall boots—merged his powerful form with the dark paneled walls in the low amber lighting. Jaer’s fathomless brown eyes stared into hers, just as before, triggering a recent memory of him standing in the exact spot.
Erynn’s breath wheezed through her constricted throat and her stomach lurched. She hadn’t seen Jaer since he woke from a coma, in a miraculous recovery five days, three huairs, and twenty-one timnents ago now.
Her knees threatened to buckle, to pitch her into a heap on the cold stone floor. She squeezed her eyes closed briefly, willing her lungs to draw air and her heart to slow its maddening pace.
“You’re here? I mean, in the city.” Erynn’s voice was a restrained, but tentative declaration. Last she’d known, he was still recovering at his family’s farm in the mountains outside Glaskra.
Why didn’t I know? I’ve never read Jaer’s emotions, but I have always sensed his presence.
She wrenched her gaze from Jaer, unable to look at him. His proximity pierced raw emotions, pain ripping her aching heart. “I didn’t know . . .” Erynn bit at her lower lip, reminding herself what was important. Jaer was alive. Just because he didn’t remember her, or the love they’d shared, or much of his life for the past year—
“Captain Yager. Why would you be contacted regarding what’s clearly Anbas business?” Jaer’s smoothly modulated voice echoed inside the confined space.
“Anbas business?” Erynn’s tone rose and her arms stiffened. Sorrow whirled away, replaced by a flash of annoyance. Her pulse calmed into a slow, deliberate rhythm, and her chest expanded without a conscious effort.
“Yes. Anbas business, Captain.”
Jaer had never called her Erynn after they met nearly ten weeks ago. He’d referred to her as Lieutenant, or Lieutenant Yager—until their first kiss anyway. So much had happened in such a short time, including her, Sean’s, and their best friend Tam’s well-deserved advance in rank. The past appeared to be repeating itself, only now she was Captain.
Fine. Two could play this game. “I’m questioning, sir, why you think this is clearly Anbas business. I don’t see it that way and I’m sure Cale— General Athru, will agree with me. Sean and Tiar are Interceptor pilots under General Athru’s command.”
Jaer’s arms dropped to his sides and he strode to stand in front of Erynn, leaning over her, glaring down, his exasperation evident. His words were strained between clenched teeth. “I’m handling this, Captain Yager. My Anbas are tracking Roni’s movements in the city. They’re questioning anyone who might have seen them. Searching places only Anbas know to look. We will find them. You have no business—”
“I have as much business as you in this situation, sir,” Erynn countered. Her tone challenged him. Head tipped back, her gaze locked on his stony glare, her chin thrust forward. The four thin, raised scars across her cheek burned. Erynn didn’t back down or turn her head to hide the hot flush spreading over her face.
Jaer’s dark eyes narrowed, his jaw muscles bunching.
Leathan stepped forward. “Jaer. Erynn. We, all of us, need to focus on the situation. If it turns out there is one.”
Erynn glanced at Leathan and her ire faded, but not the heat flooding through her veins. “You’re right. We should work together, Ja—sir. We always managed before.” Unscathed by Jaer’s show of intimidation, she fought the urge to collapse against him, to breath in his sweet, spicy scent, to meld into his warmth. She hoped nothing more in her bold façade had altered—giving away the longing and grief that boiled inside her, straining toward the surface.
“Why are you so stubborn, Captain? I’m doing my job, keeping the people of Arranon safe. That includes you. I’ve read your file. You hadn’t even graduated Academy on your home world of Korin before you were compelled by the alien invasion into duty. You’re young, still not legal age.” Jaer’s hard countenance softened and his eyes warmed. His subdued tone held no menace. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Why do you insist on taking risks that may cut it short?”
Jaer’s words brought an unwanted reminder of her upcoming birthday—a day her adoptive dad had always remembered with love and a celebration, even if it was only the two of them. Erynn’s chest tightened and her focus blurred. This year, there would be no dinner of her choosing, no gifts wrapped in silver paper and tied with streaming gold ribbons, no cake set aglow with tiny white candles. Her dad was gone, brutally murdered just weeks ago. The aliens invading their worlds considered him a risk. Threatened by the loyalty of those under his command, they sanctioned her dad’s assassination.
Despite the alien’s advanced technology and vast manpower, the people of Arranon and Korin joined forces. They worked together and prevented the alien’s intent to strip the natural resources, leaving their worlds barren and lifeless hulks.
A more attainable undertaking after Faylen, an alien soldier, took Erynn prisoner aboard their massive ship. Instead of turning her to his cause, Erynn turned him. He helped her unite the oppressed living under a tyrant’s cruel regime, setting in motion a decisive rebellion, and altering the deadly outcome of a one-sided war.
Erynn held her ground, fighting to speak around the lump rising in her throat at the thought of her dad . . . and Faylen. Words pushed past an unyielding tongue in a tangled whisper. “It’s my job, sir. What my dad, Commanding General Damon Yager, would expect of me.” Erynn’s voice strengthened. “I may be young, but I’m well trained—a good pilot. After all I’ve been through, I’ve proven myself capable.”
Leathan stepped in, attempting to defuse heightened emotions. “Of course you’re capable, Erynn. No one questions your abilities. And Jaer, Erynn isn’t questioning your methods either.”
Erynn sensed a presence approaching. She opened her awareness, allowing the pinpoint of light in her mind to expand. Aven, an Anbas Warrior and Jaer’s brother, hurried toward Leathan’s office. A wave of apprehension flowed ahead of him, breaking over Erynn.
The main door squeaked at old brass hinges and scuffed against the floor. Aven’s deep-brown eyes shifted between them, measuring the situation. His long, dark hair worn in the traditional style—clasped at the back of his neck in a filigreed silver and gold cocha—slipped over one shoulder, identical to Jaer’s. The similarities in the brothers ended there. Aven took his profession as a warrior seriously, but Jaer carried the calling to an extreme, becoming the youngest Fayn in recorded history. Aven pressed between Jaer and Erynn, holding up half-gloved hands. “Hey, you two. I could hear you clear down the hall. What’s this about?”
Jaer’s eyes darkened and he straightened, glancing at his brother. “Nothing.” The single word was a low grumble.
Erynn took in a deep breath, and stepped back to face Aven. Her face cooled. “Nothing. We’re fine.”
Thank you for stopping by my blog today to check out this amazing author and her book!
If you are interested in being a part of the Author’s Spotlight ~ Please check out all the details HERE