Imdalind 01 - Kiss of Fire

day when we had met.
    “I would like that very much.”
    “I’m Ryland,” he stuck out his hand; I took it eagerly, expecting something to happen, my heart breaking when nothing did.
    “Joclyn.”
    “What a funny name,” he giggled, his body shaking.
    I couldn’t even bring myself to smile.
    Ryland looked at me with all the innocence, all the sparkly-eyed new-world wonderment a young child has, a child who has known no pain and felt no heartbreak.
    “You have very pretty eyes,” he said softly.
    “They look like diamonds.”

    Continue the fight with Eyes of Ember – out now.

    Book One: Kiss of Fire
    Book Two: Eyes of Ember
    Book Three: Scorched Treachery
    Book Four: Soul of Flame (12/13)

Acknowledgments

    To those who inspired me:
    Happy Birthday, Papa – I love you more than words can say.
    For my Grandmother, whose passion for reading is infectious.

    To those who supported me:
    Julie Blaisdell
    Wendi Fedderson
    Annette Skoubye
    Sheena Boekweg

    And to those who created for me:
    Rick Chianteretto of Dirty Boy Photography
    Sarah at Okay Creations
    Amanda and Carol of Natures Lace

    Thank you for reading this little story that came out of my head. I hope you enjoyed it

About the Author
    Rebecca Ethington has been telling stories since she was small. First, with writing crude scripts, and then in stage with years of theatrical performances. The Imdalind Series is her first stint into the world of literary writing. Rebecca is a mother to two, and wife to her best friend of 14 years. She was born and raised in the mountains of Salt Lake City, and hasn’t found the desire to leave yet. Her days are spent writing, running, and enjoying life with her amazing family.

    After years of writing scripts for children’s theatre company’s across the country, Rebecca is happy to be making her debut into the world of fiction with Kiss of Fire, the first in The Imdalind Series.

    Eyes of Ember, the second book in The Imdalind Series is out now.
    Book Three, Scorched Treachery, will be out July 10 th 2013

    Follow Rebecca on her blog at:
    www.rebeccaethington.com

    Or on Twitter:
    @ RebEthington

    Or on Facebook:
    Facebook.com/rebeccaethington.author

Chapter One

    I am going to kill Edmund LaRue.
    I repeated the words to myself as a reminder that the thought was still there, that my conviction was still true.
    The thought had started as an ember of possibility when I saw Edmund wipe the last of Ryland’s memories three nights ago. And with them went all the memories of me. If it had been more than an ember or if I had been more powerful, I would have killed him then. As it was, Ilyan had grabbed me and dragged me away.
    Being forced to leave the one person in the world that I loved had snapped something deep inside of me, and the thought had grown, the ember growing into a spark.
    That spark promised me I would be the one to kill Edmund. He had destroyed my best friend, the one person left for me to love. I owed him for that.
    The spark became a flame when I went back and visited Ryland in our space between dream and reality for the last time. Inside of our Tȍuha I saw him as a little boy who looked at me and told me my eyes looked like diamonds, I could feel the flame in me then, an inferno of hatred, desire and power.
    Although my mind was set on its course and my chosen path was clear, my heart and body had not gotten the message. I spent the next three days trapped in overwhelming heartbreak that I could not escape, try as I might. My body ached with emotional pain and erased any desire that I had to move.
    I knew it was not a natural reaction. Something else was wrong. Somehow I knew that this was affecting me far more than a normal heartbreak should, but I still accepted it. In turn, I accepted my lack of determination to fight it. In the back of my mind, burning with a heat that scarred deep into my soul, the desire to strike Edmund from the earth still reigned.
    So I lay still, an emotionless mask in place as my soul battled with itself. My mind planned Edmund’s demise while I ached for what it could not have, what had been taken from me.
    I could have stayed locked in my indecisive torture forever if Ilyan had not been so persistent.
    “Silnỳ, it’s time to wake up.”
    His voice was soft in my ear, his hand resting against the side of my face. His fore finger rested softly on the mark below my ear, the mark that had destroyed my life. I pushed his hand away and covered my head with the thick