Beguiled Blog Tour

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!

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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:

Amazon

Goodreads

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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