Series: The Aronia Series #1
Published by Pronoun on June 11, 2016
Genres: Young Adult, Romance
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*~*~Rachel Pudsey will donate all book sales profit made from October 7, 2017 until November 18, 2017 to BBC Children in Need to raise money for disadvantaged children and young people in the UK. ~*~*
Fifteen-year-old Abigail Crumble was never much for talking about love and marriage and other such nonsense – no matter how often her boy obsessed best friend pestered her to do so. Or so she so adamantly proclaimed.
Yet on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, Abigail makes the biggest, most contradictory mistake of her life. She wishes on the stars for love, or even the smallest amount of attention, without knowing the full impact of such a feat.
Abigail soon finds her simple life in chaos as princes, men and mysterious creatures come to her door, each adamantly in love with her and refusing to leave her side.
Mixing fantasy and romance, The Watcher of the Night Sky begins the tale of one girl’s quest to rid herself of a curse that was definitely far more than she wished for.
Revised edition: This edition of The Watcher of the Night Sky includes editorial revisions.
If after reading this excerpt it doesn’t make you want to read it, well I don’t know what will. The book cover is also gorgeous!!!
Prince Selwyn stood huffing and puffing as he hauled a massive, bug-eyed, black-and-white head through the trees. It was shaped like a huge ball and looked oily to the touch (not that anyone wanted to touch it to find out).
“How—” said Abigail.
“Impossible!” cried Cillian, rising to his feet and walking towards the prince. “Dragons are mythical.”
“Where did you—” Olivia stammered. “How did you— I—”
Selwyn beamed and dragged his finding into the camp, leaving a trail of greenish-red blood behind him. He stopped before Abigail.
She felt bile rise to her throat and tried her best to swallow it back. Yet her eyes could find nothing but the head of what appeared to be a dragon and the trail of blood.
“I also took the liberty of collecting berries for pudding.” He walked away from the beast and poured the fruit into a spare pot. He put it over the fire.
Cillian paced around the detached head of the beast, pausing to inspect the wound encrusted with blood. “Where’s the body?”
Selwyn was too preoccupied with the berries in the pot to reply.
“Where’s the body?” Cillian asked again. And while Selwyn played oblivious, Eric returned huffing and puffing and pulling with him what seemed to be the body. It was extremely long and slim, with black and white patterned scales, a poker-straight tail, and four crumpled papery wings.
“I slayed the beast for you, my love.” He dropped the body beside the head.
Abigail turned away and vomited.
“That’s not a dragon.” Cillian prodded the beast with his foot.
Selwyn stomped over, the pot of hot fruit in his hand. “I slayed the beast!” he declared, pointing his spoon at Eric.
“No you didn’t!” said Eric. “I did.”
“I have his head. Clearly I slayed the dragon. And—and you found his body and dragged it here, claiming it to be your own work!”
“You lie! I slayed the beast. The head rolled off and I’ve spent the last hour dragging this body to prove my efforts.”
“Neither of you should boast about slaying this creature.” Clay joined Cillian in inspecting it.
“Preposterous!” Selwyn scoffed, turning away and busying himself with dishing out the berries.
“What a thing to say!” Eric crossed his arms against his heaving chest.
“It is not a dragon,” said Clay. “And to boast about killing a sudenkorento is dangerous.”
“What are you talking about?” Selwyn thrust a bowl of berries into Clay’s hands. “This isn’t a suden-whatsit,” he added, pointing his large spoon at the creature. “It’s a dragon—that I slayed!”
He proceeded to dish out the food to the rest of the group.
“Keep your voice down!” hissed Cillian. “If you are right…” he said wearily, looking at Clay.
“Clay, what is it?” Abigail moved away from the carcass. “What have they done?”
He sighed. “They have murdered a sacred beast used by the fae to travel. If and when they find out what has happened…”
She gasped. “We’re in danger?”
Selwyn placed a bowl of hot fruit in her hands. “Surely he is mistaken,” he said lightly. “Why would the fae be anywhere near here? They live in Aaravale and haven’t left there since the war!”
“Which means it most likely belonged to faelti,” said Cillian, refusing to take the bowl Selwyn held towards him.
The prince moved on.
“They don’t exist!” Eric shovelled the steaming hot pudding into his mouth.
“I think we’d better move on,” said Clay.
“I agree,” said Cillian.
“At least finish your fruit,” said Selwyn. With the air of an upset child, he began to nibble on his own share of the dessert.
Abigail eyed the bowl in her hands. With the carcass of the creature in full view before her, she didn’t care much for eating. Unfortunately, Selwyn was looking at her expectantly.
Reluctantly, Abigail lifted the spoon and raised it to her mouth.
Cillian’s eyes bulged. “Don’t eat that!” he cried, stumbling over the tail of the creature to knock the bowl out of her hands.
Olivia swallowed a spoonful. “Why not?”
“Poisoned?” gasped several of the men.
“Poisoned?” cried Selwyn. “I would never dream of poisoning the woman I love.”
“Perhaps not intentionally,” said Cillian. “But let me assure all of you that should any of this dish pass by your lips, you will most likely die.”