During her ordeal with the Sect, Estelle Bailey dreamt of escaping back into the arms of the sea—and Azariah. But freedom came at a price, and though she’s back with the Sachael who’s stolen her heart, she’s also land-bound until the next full moon. And with the threat of Orontes looming ever larger behind them, Azariah, Estelle, and Michael—her once-captor turned rescuer and friend—are on the run.
Published: November 24th, 2015
During her ordeal with the Sect, Estelle Bailey dreamt of escaping back into the arms of the sea—and Azariah. But freedom came at a price, and though she’s back with the Sachael who’s stolen her heart, she’s also land-bound until the next full moon. And with the threat of Orontes looming ever larger behind them, Azariah, Estelle, and Michael—her once-captor turned rescuer and friend—are on the run.
Following Michael’s lead, they seek sanctuary amidst the natural beauty of the Orkney and Shetland Islands until Estelle can complete her next submergence ritual and Azariah can whisk her away to the safety of Saicean.
Secrets, betrayals, and old enemies await them, though, and as events spiral out of control, Azariah makes a decision that puts all their lives at risk, forcing Estelle to face a journey she never wanted to take. With time running out and tempers running high, her only hope to save the man she loves lies in a reconciliation between two kingdoms who despise each other.
Book Two in the Mine Series, Sachael Desires further expands on the intricate underwater world of the Sachaels, and the hostility and isolation of not belonging.
EXCERPT
Orontes snarled, striding to the nearest tank and gently tapping his fingers on the glass. Nothing happened. The octopuses’ usual reaction was to scurry and hide between the rocks and sand at the bottom of the tank. They didn’t move. Shaking his head in disbelief, he systematically walked to each tank, repeating his action. He waited for a few seconds each time for any sign of movement, hoping at least one of them was alive.
He lingered over the last tank, sniffing the air above it. Moving his face closer to the water, he drew in a deep breath.
“Bleach,” he murmured, and then, as if to confirm it to himself and the men in the room who were ignoring him, he repeated the word louder. “Bleach! They were killed with bleach.” Spinning on the spot, he glared at the man who had attempted to answer him earlier. “Did you see Michael wandering around with the container in his hand? Did you see him pour it into the tanks?”
“No,” he answered, his voice shaking.
“And why wasn’t he stopped? He wasn’t allowed in here.” Orontes paced the laboratory, convinced this was Michael’s doing. “Is the venom contaminated?” he asked the man in the store room.
“No, the vials I’ve checked are clean.”
Orontes glanced at the tanks again before marching from the room. Long, heavy steps took him upstairs and to the left of the building—the rooms where the men he trusted would be. This whole tragedy wouldn’t have happened if he’d stayed. Michael wouldn’t have dared to take Estelle to the beach without him. He didn’t understand why nobody had stopped him. No one had questioned him. Not even Pactolus.
“Stupid half-bred idiot,” he growled.
Eight familiar faces turned to him as he opened the door to the game room. The television immediately switched off, and the two men playing pool stopped their game. These men were the ones who had returned this morning after the phone call from Lilith. They were Oceanids.
“Ten minutes, and we’re leaving,” he informed them.
“Leaving? Again?”
“Yes. We’ll be in the water.”
“But you’re not allowed in the water. Hebrus banned you.”
“And you think he will stop me?” Orontes snapped. “You can stay here if you want, but you’d better not be here when I return.”
What did it matter whether he was banned or not? Orontes didn’t care for Hebrus’s rule. He never followed it; although, this time, he would be in the water for considerably longer than the quick swims he occasionally went for. He smirked. Hebrus would never stop him. He’d never even know.
“Where are we going this time?” another man asked, already jumping to his feet, ready to leave.
Orontes fought a smile, confident with what would greet him when he arrived.
“The Orkneys,” he growled. “I need to visit Michael.”
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About the author:
Growing up, Melody showed a natural ability in art, a head for maths, and a tendency to write too long English essays. Difficult to place in the world when she graduated, she pursued a career in teaching, but ended up working in finance. Melody is convinced the methodical times she spends working with numbers fuel her desire to drift into dream worlds and write about the illusory characters in her head.
Melody Winter lives in York, North Yorkshire, England with her husband and two sons. When not dealing with football, rugby, and a whole plethora of 'boy' activities, she will be found scribbling notes for her stories, or preparing for another trip to the nearby beaches at Scarborough and Whitby. With an obsession for anything mythical, Melody revels in reading and writing about such creatures.
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