Title: Reborn
Series: The Fate Challenges #1
Author: Cherie Reich
Genre: YA Epic Fantasy
Approximate Word Count: 95,000
words
Release Date: May 23, 2014
To
save a kingdom, a prophetess must challenge Fate.
On the day of Yssa’s death
and rebirth, the god Apenth chose her as the Phoenix Prophetess.
Sea serpents and gods
endanger the young prophetess’s journey and sour the omens. Yssa is cursed
instead of blessed, and her duties at the Temple of Apenth prove it. She spends
her days reading dusty scrolls, which does nothing to help her forget Tym, the
boy back home. But the annoying yet gorgeous ferryman’s son Liam proves to be a
distraction she can’t predict, even though he rarely leaves her alone for two
sand grains.
Her boring temple life
screeches to a halt when visions of her parents’ murders consume her. Yssa
races across an ocean to stop the future. If she can’t change Fate, she’ll
refuse to be the Phoenix Prophetess any longer. Fate, however, has other plans
for her and the kingdom.
Yssa must either accept her
destiny or fight to change Fate.
Reborn, book one of The Fate Challenges, by Cherie Reich will be released on May 23,
2014. For more information about Cherie Reich and her work, please visit her website or blog. The cover art is created by Laura Sava. To add on
Goodreads, click here.
If you’d like to be notified when Reborn
releases, please sign up for her newsletter here.
Author Bio: A
self-proclaimed bookworm, Cherie Reich is a speculative fiction writer,
freelance editor, book blogger, and library assistant living in Virginia. Her
short stories have appeared in magazines and anthologies, and her ebooks
include the horror series Nightmare, a space fantasy trilogy titled Gravity,
and a fantasy series The Foxwick Chronicles. She is Vice President of
Valley Writers and a member of the Virginia Writers Club and Untethered Realms.
Her debut YA Epic Fantasy novel Reborn, book one in The Fate Challenges,
will be released on May 23, 2014.
****
Full Prologue of Reborn:
The Island of
Mournia
23 Day of Inasham
Year 2500 AUC
The infant lay limp
upon the table, a thin cloth separating her from the wood. Her dark hair was
matted down, and a smudge of birthing fluids tainted her pale flesh. The
midwife had rushed to wipe off the baby after birth and deposited her in the
nursery away from the child’s parents. Apenth, the God of Prophecy, Wisdom, and
whatever else mortals had labeled him with this day and age, believed the
little girl was perfect, except for one tiny thing.
She was dead.
Apenth had waited
five hundred years for this child’s birth. Breath flowed from his nostrils and
rustled her hair. He straightened as the wails from the other room clamored for
her death not to be so. The small crib sat discarded in a corner. A doll, sewn
by an expecting mother’s steady hand, peered at Apenth with coal-black eyes.
Her parents didn’t know a god was here, watching, waiting for an opportunity to
save their child. His hand hovered over the baby’s heart.
One touch would
change everything.
“Stop, my son.” A
wrinkled and liver-spotted hand seized his wrist.
He cursed his lack
of foresight. Shouldn’t he have known Postera, the Goddess of Future and
Foresight, would try to stop him? He was the God of Prophecy, after all! Her
bony fingers gripped tighter with a strength he didn’t know she possessed. With
a sigh, he lifted his head and focused upon her clear blue eyes, so like his
own.
“Mother, she’s the
one. I have to continue Amora’s prophecy.” He gently pried her aged fingers
from his wrist.
“No, you cannot go
against the Fates again. The gods are displeased.” Clothed in the threads of
life, she ran her fingers along the thrumming red yarn—each strand symbolized
one life and weaved together to create her dress. All threads emerged from a
ruby gemstone belted over her navel. The closer to death a person was, the more
the yarn would change from bright to dark red. She reached into her dress folds
and revealed the severed darkening strand of this baby’s lifeline. “It is too
late. Fate has forfeited her life, and her soul shall reside in Hupogaia’s
realm.”
His heart sank. The
detached thread swayed back and forth from her fingers. Was it too late to
revive the child? His body curled closer to the baby girl. Her chance for life
was slipping through his fingers with each passing grain of sand in an
hourglass.
This girl had to be
the sixth prophetess.
“You know what will
happen if I don’t do this.” He jerked away from his mother. His eyes flicked
between the blackened thread and the baby. If he didn’t save the child, who
would stop Fate? His Phoenix Prophetesses were more than normal seers. They had
the power to take his prophecies and change what was to come, despite the other
gods and Fate’s claims he shouldn’t interfere. Her future was fading into the
dark depths of the Underworld, and he wouldn’t allow her to be one of
Hupogaia’s eternal children. He owed it to his deceased love, Amora, and the
kingdom she had created and ruled.
“I know what may come.
Who taught you prophecy? I did.”
Postera exhaled through her nose. “You cannot keep meddling. Do you not see my
wrinkles, my white hair? Kisa will curse you like she has me. Have you
forgotten how Hupogaia protested against you last time in front of the High
Council. They blinded your prophetess and said grave consequences will come if
you save another one.”
He couldn’t forget
the council’s words or how they’d cursed his fifth Phoenix Prophetess. But
visions of the Kingdom of Amora in flames flashed through his mind. He could
taste the ashes, like burnt charcoal, and hear her people’s screams. The
prophecy of the kingdom’s destruction leaked sour bile into his mouth. The
other gods, including Kisa, the Queen of the Gods, might be willing to turn
their backs on their loyal people for Fate, but he wasn’t.
There was also this
infant in front of him. She reminded him of his daughter. His mortal family
resided in the Underworld, but he couldn’t let this child.
“I have to save
her.”
“Think of the
consequences, my son.”
He had. They both
knew the gods would find a way to curse him and this innocent child, but the
price was worth saving the kingdom.
Ignoring his
mother’s shrieks, Apenth leaned over the lifeless baby again. His lips pressed
against her ashen forehead, so cold to the touch. Postera clawed at his arms,
but he shoved away her hands. Nothing would stop him from completing Amora’s
prophecy, protecting the city named after his love.
“You are mine,
little one.” His hand pressed over her heart. Electric heat flowed from his
glowing fingertips. They tingled, nearly burning his flesh, but his hand
remained steady. Luminosity brightened around the child and him, further
blocking out Postera’s pleas. The room filled with the blinding white light.
“Live.” He
commanded, pleaded.
“No!” Postera
screamed as the child’s life-thread ripped from his mother’s hand and joined
the pulsing jewel on her belt. The piece sizzled, reattaching to the gemstone,
and transformed to blood red.
The light imploded
into the child. Her flesh glowed for a moment before the room’s shadows
returned. A tiny strawberry-colored birthmark in the shape of a phoenix
blossomed upon the flesh over her heart. The baby’s lungs filled with air, and
a cry broke from her lips.
The Phoenix Prophetess
was reborn.
Allegiant 
