[ #Excerpt + #Giveaway ] Legend of the Spider-Prince : Rebel by Margo Ander

Hi guys!  I'm thrilled to offer you an peek into Margo Ander's new fantasy book ~ Legend of the Spider-Prince :Rebel . I hope you enjoy the excerpt below and be sure to enter the giveaway if you didn't already!  As always, thanks for stopping by !

Legend of the Spider-Prince: REBEL

by : Margo Ander

Publication: Meander Creek Books (July 2013)
ASIN:  B00E0BKYJW
Length: 448 pages
Genre: Fantasy

Book Description: 

Wyl is a young rebel whose life of dangerous lies and hidden truths has cost him his childhood and his ability to trust. He is fanatically loyal to the rebel leader, a woman embroiled in a blood-feud with Trascolm's ruling clan. When he’s not away spying, he’s her secret bodyguard—she needs protection from her army of renegades and outlaws as much as from bounty-hunters and assassins sent by her archenemy. But when the rebellion meets with disaster, the rebel leader's strategy changes. Wyl is thrust into a hostile royal court of underage teens—mere children, to his mind. He’s expected to embrace this more civilized way of life, but his brutally-honed instincts betray him, and he makes enemies instead of friends. Wyl—a boy raised by outlaws—is in over his head and must somehow master the subtleties of court intrigue well enough to keep the rebel leader and her rebellion alive, despite the treacherous machinations of her enemies, and do it without getting himself killed.

  About the Legend of the Spider-Prince series

In a war-torn land where men have unbridled influence, but women hold the reins of power, a young rebel becomes entangled in a deadly web of magic, court intrigue, and revenge amid an escalating wave of events that will ultimately destroy magic, overturn governments, cause the near-collapse of civilization, even threaten the very existence of life on Eryth—and make him a legend.

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Wyl ran hard, but pounding hoofs gained on him. He shied off to the right and flinched as the polished, leaf-shaped, jektrar-bronze spearhead narrowly missed him, its shaft passing over his left shoulder. 

Now the spearman had put himself between Wyl and the woods. He turned and charged. 

Wyl kept running, and at the last moment, he dodged to the right again. 

The spearman tried to swerve with him, but he couldn’t bring his spear to the other side of his horse fast enough. 

Wyl dove to the ground. 

The spear passed over his head. The spearman charged past him, failing to ride him down. 

Nothing now lay between Wyl and the woods. He jumped to his feet, dared turn his back on the spearman, and ran. 

He could hear the spearman again drawing close behind him. If he kept running, the spearman would simply sink that spear between his shoulder blades. The woods were just too far away. 

His mind raced through all that lay in his power, all that might save his life, but there was damned little he could do. 

Then, an idea came to him. 

As he ran, he felt for the lump under his byrnney’s collar—his luck charm—and snatched it out. Though luck was still cut into the wax, he couldn’t rely on spitcraft, not given his obvious disfavor with MiPaatet. 

Time to try something else, something stronger than luck, a little something he’d learned in Myymor, though he’d never been desperate enough to try it. 

Bloodcraft. 

Sorcery. 

He bit his lip hard as he ran, put his spitcrafted charm wax-side down onto the bubble of blood, and held it in his teeth. He panted around it, tasting blood as he frantically groped inside himself for an elusive, spine-tingling feeling, one that should be so much stronger than the feeling he got with his spitcraft—and not at all like what he’d felt coming from the weather-mage. 

He wasn’t sure what to expect.

On the streets of Myymor, they said once someone started down the blood path, there was no turning back from becoming a murdering, black-hearted sorcerer. 

But turning back would only be a problem if he lived through this. 

Something welled up with startling ease from within him. 

His hair stood on end. 

He could feel the heat rising in the bit of wax and wood against his lips, and when it did, it meant his humble, harmless spitcraft luck charm had become a bloodcrafted hex, stronger than luck—and nearly as criminal as outright sorcery. 

A wave of sudden weakness rippled through him. He staggered, nearly falling. 

He hadn’t expected that. His spitcraft had never affected him physically, except maybe to give him a headache from concentrating too hard. This was something else entirely. 

He shuddered. Just what had he done?

I loved fairy tales as a child, but could never get enough of them until I learned to read for myself. I spent my formative years with my nose in a book or playing dungeon master for my sisters long before there were actual games requiring one. Our Barbies fought Klingons, conquered the galaxy—and always had room on their spaceship for horses. I am a horsewoman, an archer, a fencer, a former military officer, and a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism—all useful skills and experiences for a fantasy novelist. I am currently holding down a day job in Mississippi, USA, where I live with my husband and two daughters, and am presently down to one horse, one cat, and one dog—and ‘way too many books. Visit me on the web at www.margoander.com My Facebook author page is at www.facebook.com/AuthorMargoAnder I have a blog, www.margoander.wordpress.com, where I review books I like by other indie authors. I have another blog, marguerot.wordpress.com, where I blog about writing.

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