Falcon Heart
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Slavers seize Kyrin from the coast of Britannia and sail for Araby. With a dagger from her murdered mother's hand, an exiled warrior from the East, and a peasant closer than a sister by blood, Kyrin is determined to overcome her fear of the blade and escape. But the falcon dagger is at the root of intrigue, martial skill, and danger within the caliph's court. It haunts her through tiger-ridden dreams, love, and battle in the Araby sands. To defeat her treacherous master and defend those she loves, Kyrin must face the blade that killed her mother. Love against hate, dagger against sword. Falcon...
Slavers seize Kyrin from the coast of Britannia and sail for Araby. With a dagger from her murdered mother's hand, an exiled warrior from the East, and a peasant closer than a sister by blood, Kyrin is determined to overcome her fear of the blade and escape. But the falcon dagger is at the root of intrigue, martial skill, and danger within the caliph's court. It haunts her through tiger-ridden dreams, love, and battle in the Araby sands. To defeat her treacherous master and defend those she loves, Kyrin must face the blade that killed her mother. Love against hate, dagger against sword. Falcon Heart is the first epic adventure in a teen and young adult medieval fantasy series with threads of mystery, martial art, and multicultural conflict. (Falcon Heart Book 1, Falcon Flight Book 2, Lance and Quill companion novella - Falcon Chronicle series.) Excerpt: The delicate carved fish of green-and-rose seashell leaped amid oak beads she liked to think were peat-dark river bubbles. Her father's gift for her fifteenth name-day went well with her green tunic. Kyrin sat up to slip off her shoes. Rain drummed on the slate roof and in the window. Mother would have something to say if the wet dampened her tunic-though she wanted the shutter open for the fresh air. She said storms made her feel alive. In the morning the sun might be shining. Who can tell? I will fly with Lord Fenwer's falcons, high and far. Wind ripped the shutter around and slammed it against the outside wall. A winged shape hurtled past the sill with a shrill cry. Was it one of Lord Fenwer's birds? Kyrin leaned out and twisted to stare up, blinking against the almost dark and the rain. "Kyrin, your tunic-" Kyrin saw nothing but wind-blown rain. "Yes, mother." She wiped her face and reached for the shutter. The wind pulled at it. She struggled. Along the east side of the out-wall a small door opened onto the cliffs. It flapped in the wind, a crow's wing. A torch bobbed through it.
