Today on my blog I have the Beguiled Blog Tour. On my stop there is a spotlight, excerpt, guest post, and giveaway.
Urania Sarri lives in Korinthia, Greece
with her husband and sons.
She holds a BA in English Language and Literature and an Msc in Teaching
English to speakers of other languages (TESOL). She specializes in teaching
English to young adults and she totally adores her job. While doing so, she
takes any opportunity to convey to her students the passion of reading. She is
fascinated by paranormal stories and appreciates good romance whenever she gets
her hands on it!
Stalker Links:
The war between the present and the future has
started. Compelled to cooperate with the forces of the future in order to gain
Christopher back, Emma has taken on a new mission. The portal that connects the
two worlds must be relocated otherwise there is no hope for humanity. But there
are so many obstacles she has to overcome; Christopher has given up on their
love, her best friend has been kidnapped and the life-changing truth about her
family is revealed. Worst of all, a new, unexpected menace under the name Frederick, Christopher’s
evil double, threatens their lives.
Will she be able to secure the future of mankind and claim the love she has
fought so hard for? What if Christopher has decided to sacrifice himself again
in order to save her?
In “BEGUILED,” the second book of the “GATE DEADLOCK” series, love knows no
deadlocks.
Excerpt:
“Good morning. I have an appointment with Mr. Mavropoulos,”
I said to the gray-haired woman who opened the door of the old, neo-classic
house in Rodon Street, just two blocks away from the impressive ruins of the
Roman marketplace, below the shade of the sacred hill where the Acropolis has
stood for centuries.
“Are you Miss Ioannou?” she asked in Greek.
I nodded and she showed me in.
“Come with me, please. He should be resting right now, but he’s changed his
schedule for you.”
“Oh! I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He’s really looking forward to seeing you. I can’t remember when I
last saw such a sparkle in his eyes.”
She opened the door to a huge study, the walls of which were hidden behind
floor-to-ceiling shelves, filled with hundreds of thick, old books.
Silver-gray, velvet curtains kept the sunlight away from the place and a faint
smell of mould, suffused with the odour of paper, made me hold my breath. The
old man was sitting in an armchair, his legs covered with a soft blanket. His
snow-white hair was longer than it should be for a man of his age and his long
beard seemed unkempt, making his face look even thinner. Behind his round
glasses, two sparkling eyes revealed his emotion at seeing me.
“My dear child, come here. Forgive me for not standing up to greet you but
time, I’m afraid, has been ruthless to me,” he said.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, professor. Your English is perfect.”
He held my hand tight in his.
“A remnant of the years I spent in Oxford,
my dear. That was where I met your father.” He scrutinized my face. “You look
very much like him. Your eyes mostly. Dimitris would be very proud of you.” He
turned to his wife. “Katerina, treat our guest to that wonderful karidopita of
yours. You’ve met my wife,” he said, with unconcealed pride. “She’s the most
tolerant person in the whole world, my Katerina.”
His wife bent beside him to pick up the blanket that was slipping from the
professor’s legs to the floor. She asked me if I’d like a cup of tea and I took
the offer with gratitude. I hadn’t had a bite since early that morning and my
stomach started rumbling hours ago. All of a sudden, I realized I had spoken to
her in Greek, although not deliberately, bringing about a smile of satisfaction
on the old man’s face. I decided to let him keep it up a little longer, doing
my best to exhibit what I thought closer to the perfect Greek accent.
“So, were you and my father close?”
“Not as much as I wanted to. After Oxford
where we had both attended a conference…I believe it was Professor Johnston who
introduced us or…was it…I’m sorry, my child. My memory’s failing me.”
“It’s all right. Take your time.”
“We discovered then that we had a lot to talk about. He loved talking about Greece. He was
interested in some articles I’d published and we arranged to meet in Greece to share
ideas. We didn’t meet very often but soon we both knew we were part of
something big. Something that no human mind can conceive easily without the
risk of crossing the thin line between reality and illusion.” His calculating
look searched my face for traces of consent.
“That’s why I’m here,” I whispered, switching to English.
“What are you looking for, my child?”
“He’d found something…in Pylos.”
“I heard you gave up that place.”
“It’s true. I was forced to.”
“Hmm.” He nodded. “Believe me, I understand. They have their ways, don’t they?”
It was obvious he was referring to the League, but I had strict orders from
Christopher not to give the professor any details about them, and of course,
not to name the League.
“But now they’ve asked me to go there and search the place.”
He raised his brows, profoundly surprised. “Do you know what they want you to
find?”
I leaned towards him and whispered, “The Gate.”
I was afraid he had stopped breathing. But then his eyes reflected the triumph
born from years of anticipating something to be said by someone. Someone else
besides himself. Inside those walls that had been waiting…for years…a lifetime.
He suddenly took a deep breath.
His wife came into the room holding a tray with two cups of tea and one huge
piece of fluffy karidopita, garnished with homemade cherry jam.
“No karidopita for me, woman?”
“Stop complaining, Stavros. You had your share earlier.” She smiled to me.
“Doctor’s orders.” Then she walked out of the room.
“Will you be so kind as to get me that brown photo album from the second shelf,
Emma?”
I was surprised to find that the thick photo album wasn’t covered with a layer
of dust or mould, like someone regularly went through it. I put it in his
fragile hands. All of a sudden, it seemed too heavy a burden for them. He
opened it slowly on a page marked by a page-marker in the shape of the
Parthenon.
“Look! This is you!” He pointed to a photo of a little girl in a white dress,
holding a colourful ball. I recognized myself. My image in that dress evoked
the memory of a strange, obscure feeling. Like grief for a possible loss or
some kind of misfortune.
“He wanted me to take photos on that day. Do you recognize the place?” he
asked.
“It’s the dig site.”
He turned the page. “See? This is your father holding with you in his arms. Do
you remember anything about that day, Emma?”
I shook my head. The tall, strong man smiling in the photo was exactly like I
remembered him. I’d missed him so much, it broke my heart to see his face in
the photo. I tried to focus on the reasons for my visit. Another huge bite of
karidopita helped.
I told professor Mavropoulos how they had told me that the location of the
portal had changed and how vital it was for me to find it in order to get my friend
Alex back. I thought it would be wise to omit the trip to the League’s time, as
I was certain he couldn’t deal with so many revelations in one day.
......
He was speaking fast, making the impression that he had lost touch with
reality, like he was in his own world, lost in absolute trance. As if he had
guessed my thoughts, he swiftly composed himself.
“I’m afraid that is all I can tell you, my child. I wish your father had told
you more about it. He left you his archives and his notes and everything probably
because he expected you to finish what he had started. But I’m afraid he’d
underestimated the risk for you too.”
“I have to do it. Otherwise, I won’t get Alex back.”
“Love is a very powerful motive, my child. Truly the be all and end all in
life. Do you know that in the Greek language the verb love, “agapo,” starts
with the first letter of the alphabet and ends with the last? The alpha and the
omega. The beginning and the end. Such great meaning in a simple word.”
“I’m not so sure anymore. People like you and me tend to overestimate
feelings.” The last question came to my mind. “Professor, did my father ever
mention to you anyone referred to as E? It’s probably an initial for a name. ”
“E?” He looked puzzled. “Other than you, Emma, no. He never mentioned anyone
else to me.”
I gasped. “Me? Are you saying…I’m E?”
“I’m just an old fool. I have nothing more to provide but the prolixity of an
old man who’s been left on the side-lines for too long.” He smiled sadly and I
knew my work there was done. I took his hands in mine.
“Thank you. I have to go now. I’ll try to put everything together and see what
I can make out of this.”
He nodded. “Good luck, my child.”
I got up. “We’ll be in touch,” I said, but I couldn’t help wondering whether I
would be ever able to visit him again with any good news about my mission. I
walked out of the room with moist eyes, thanked Katerina who showed me out, and
left.
Book Links:
Guest Post:
Topic: Write a guest
post in the form of a letter from one of the characters in your book
(spoiler alert)
Dear reader,
I’m writing to respond
to your persistent question, the one you have repeatedly been asking me ever
since you read that last page of Gate Deadlock.
You ask me why I ran,
why I caved in. Why I gave up on Christopher.
How can you ask me that
when you’ve read every little detail of the tormenting journey that brought me
to this muddy road?
You know I’m anything
but a coward.
I started this
adventure as an ignorant girl and look where it got me. I didn’t cave in to
death. I fought loss. I defeated the possibility of life on a wheelchair. I
confronted my father’s assassin. I fooled the leader of the future world. I
fought against time. I have become cunning. I have become manipulative. But a
coward I’m not.
I’ve learnt to fight.
For him. For us.
You know what it was
that brought me to my knees? The emptiness in his icy blue eyes. The futile
search for something that should be there. For the warmth that was missing from
his vacant stare. That unbearable look of a stranger. Because that invisible
string that pulls me to him is still towing my heart backwards. But when I turn
to find the other end I am horrified by the stranger’s face staring back at me.
I know that look. I’ve seen it before. In the face of an assassin.
I wish you’d never
asked me why I ran. Because I hoped you’d understand. I’d rather you asked me
where I was running to. Because without Christopher there is nowhere to go.
I can’t go back to our
house. His absence will be intolerable there.
Going back to London is not an option
either. Because that would mean I have to start a new life and I’m not ready
yet. My wound is so fresh; still bleeding. And don’t tell me I can go to Alex.
I burnt that shelter long ago when I exploited his feelings for me. Yes, I had
an ulterior motive; to save a life. Christopher’s life. But that doesn’t mean I
can forgive myself.
So I’ll just keep on
running away. I don’t know where Beguiled will take me but I have a
very bad feeling my life will never be the same.
The string is pulling
harder. But I won’t turn back.
I have to find a life.
But first I have to find a shelter. I need to ask a favor: will you open your
heart for me and let me in?
Yours always,
Emma
Thank you for stopping by my blog today. I would also like to Thank Urania and Jaidis for letting me participate in this blog tour. Don't forget to enter the giveaway.
~Sabrina
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