Salt & the Sovereign

Book 2: The Siren's Curse

by A.L. Knorr

Genres: YA Fantasy; YA Contemporary; Dragons & Mythical Creatures; YA Romance; Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology

Synopsis

Deep in the ocean, a rivalry rages. Can one siren’s song turn the tides of hatred?

After witnessing senseless murder, Bel vows to end her mother’s tyrannical reign. But as a young mermaid, she has no choice but to spend multiple mating cycles on dry land before she can qualify for the crown. As she strives to capture a man's heart, the underwater realm flows with the blood of the queen's enemies…

Every moment wrapped in the strong arms of her human mate, Bel risks the madness of the siren's curse. And if she doesn't return to the sea soon, she'll lose her memories and her chance to cure the centuries-old feud. If fixing the deadly conflict is even possible…

Can Bel claim the throne before her mind and the kingdom fall to ruin?

Salt & the Sovereign is the captivating second book in The Siren’s Curse YA fantasy series. If you like ancient mythology, plucky heroines, and deep-water rivalries, then you’ll love USA Today Bestseller A.L. Knorr’s seafaring adventure.

Release date: April 10, 2019

Publisher: Intellectually Promiscuous Press

Print pages: 286

Sample

Prologue

“I can’t find him,” Antoni said as he strode into the parlor and tossed his coat over the back of the couch where Targa was sitting. “No one knows where he is.”

My heart sank and I made eye contact with my daughter––Targa. I had wanted Jozef here with us when I began recounting my story, refusing my children’s prompts to get started without him. Just the thought of seeing him again––now that my memories had returned to me––put me into a cold sweat of anxiety. Nerves were not something I normally suffered from, but in this case, under these circumstances…only a dead person wouldn’t have butterflies.

Targa glanced from me to Antoni and back again. “How can that be? It’s the middle of the day on a Tuesday, he works for our salvage team. Shouldn’t he be at work?”

“You might not believe this, but he gave his notice.” Antoni sat down beside Targa, shooting a nod of hello at Emun, who was sitting beside me.

Targa goggled. “He resigned?”

I closed my eyes as guilt and remorse washed over me like a bucket of ice water. The last time I’d seen Jozef had been in the front yard, and I’d rejected his invitation to dinner. It was far from certain that he’d quit because I’d declined his offer, but I couldn’t halt the notion that the two were somehow linked. 

I opened my eyes and swallowed down the tears that wanted to come. It was too much all at once. “Do you know why?”

Antoni shook his head. “I talked to his boss––Lizster. Jozef didn’t give a reason and he didn’t give much notice either, only forty-eight hours. No forwarding address or number, and his apartment is up for rent already.” Antoni’s hazel eyes were full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Mira.”

I had wanted to go searching for Jozef myself within hours of recovering my memory, but neither Targa nor Emun would allow me to leave the manor until they were sure I wasn’t going to lose myself again. Shock went through our little circle in waves. Even Antoni––who was not related to me and not directly affected––hardly spoke for a few hours as he processed what had happened. 

Truthfully, I had never felt so exhausted as I had in the days following Targa’s calling me home, and Emun giving me the aquamarine which now sat at the base of my throat on a chain. 

I had tried calling Jozef’s cell but got a message saying the number had been disconnected. I’d sent him emails which went unanswered, and had finally begged Antoni to go find him for me.

“I’m truly sorry we’re not able to find your friend, Mother.” Emun shifted against the sofa for a better look at me. “But since he can’t be found, and I think I could actually die of anticipation if we wait another minute, do you mind very much if we get started without him?” 

His words were tentative, uncertain, and full of longing. I looked at my son and reached for his hand. He grasped my fingers and squeezed. Emun had waited a very long time for this moment, and with or without Jozef, I didn’t want him to wait any longer, either.

I cleared my throat and began, “I was born on March 4, 1810, and given the name Bel Grant…”

“Wait, Mom.” Targa reached for her bag on the coffee table in front of her and dug inside. Retrieving her phone, she activated the screen and selected something. “Do you mind if I record you? This is way too important to relegate to something as fallible as human memory, let alone siren memory.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” I told her. “It’s a good idea. While it might not be as vivid as the memories provided by the Hall of Anamna, it’s a lot more convenient.”

The kids (I knew they weren’t kids, but I couldn’t help but think of them that way) glanced at one another.

“The Hall of Anamna?” Targa echoed. “What’s that?”

“I’ll explain, but first we have to go back to London, England. The war with France was over, but as I was just a young child, I had no interest in the war. My life revolved around my mother.” My throat tightened as I thought about the last time I had seen her, and I shoved the awful scene aside. “She was like a god to me.”