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#BlogTour #Excerpt : Aegyir Rises by Amanda Flee @amanda_fleet1 @LoveBooksGroup #Lovebookstours

Hello Readers! Today I’m sharing an excerpt from Aegyir Rises by Amanda Flee as part of blog tour, organized by Love Books Group. Check out the excerpt and book details in this post. 

Guardians of The Realm 1: Aegyir Rises by Amanda Flee
Genre: Urban Fantasy


Reagan Bennett has always felt like an outsider. Left at the doors of a hospital at birth, her relationship with her adopted family hasn’t been easy. Especially when one of them almost killed her. Now he’s due to be released from prison and Reagan’s settled world is about to be turned upside-down. But not by him.

Something else – something much older, much darker – is also about to be freed. Something that believes Reagan is an arch enemy, and is obsessed with destroying her.

All of her life, Reagan has dreamed of living in another place – The Realm. Can these dreams really be memories? If so, who is Reagan Bennett?

Reagan needs to figure out who her enemy is, before they slaughter everyone she loves. And to do that, she needs to figure out who she really is.


I perched at my desk on reception at the gym, name badge on my chest, enough war-paint on to feel secure but not so much it would scare the customers. Most of the clients knew me anyway and there weren’t usually many newcomers appearing in an afternoon. On the desk, only marginally concealed from sight, lay my sketchbook. In the long stretches between answering the phone or clients arriving, I doodled ideas for the brief I’d been sent. Even if Billy caught me doing it, he wouldn’t be upset. I crossed out most of the ideas – they were too spiky or dark. Had too much edge to them. A bit like me. Finn popped by a couple of times to bring me coffees but he was fairly solidly booked for training sessions in the afternoon.

I’d just finished jotting some notes when brakes squealed outside the gym, followed by a loud thump and screams. I scooted around to the door to peer out. An elderly man had been knocked down by a car and a group mustered around him. My heart quickened. The man didn’t look in great shape.

“He stepped out in front of me!” A pale man stared helplessly at the prone figure on the pavement, his car door open.

I rushed outside. “Has someone called an ambulance?” I crouched down to press my fingers against the man’s neck and found a weak flutter there.

Someone at my shoulder said that they had and that the ambulance was on its way. Cold drizzle seeped into the man’s lightweight coat and I grimaced. His skinny frame would chill rapidly.

“I’m going to get some towels from inside to try to keep him warm until the ambulance gets here,” I said. “Does anyone have a brolly to keep him dry?”

I rushed inside, told one of the other staff what was going on and grabbed an armful of towels. When I got back outside, the driver was standing next to the car, wringing his hands, and the gaggle of pedestrians around the man on the pavement had grown. Two people held umbrellas over him. I draped the towels over him, talking to him, but there was no response and my heart lurched. I chewed my lip, my breathing uneven, not sure what else I could do to help. Blood stained the side of his head and he looked as if he’d crumpled in the middle.

The distant sound of sirens caught my attention and I looked up. Straight into the red glowing eyes of someone… something that hadn’t been there a moment earlier. It seemed as surprised as me when our eyes met. Shadows writhed, making a shape. The eyes peered out from what seemed to be a cloak with a hood, but most of the form was swirling and indistinct. It pressed a long, bony finger to the place where its lips would be, as if to shush me, and bent back to the old man. Wide-eyed, I watched as the thing reached into the man’s chest and retrieved a small glowing ball of yellowish light. It drew the ball of light into its cloak where the shadows extinguished it. The wraith-like figure stared at me for a second longer and then vanished.

The paramedics arrived, elbowing people out of the way, including me. Their faces turned grave as they examined the man. They were too late. The police arrived, and a flurry of activity swarmed through the gym as the police used it as a place to take witness statements. The dead man was taken away in a body bag.

A youngish policeman called me forward to give my statement and I perched on the chair, threading my fingers through each other.

“I didn’t see the accident,” I said. “I heard the brakes go and then a thump, but I was on the reception desk. The old man was already on the ground when I went out.”

“Do you know if he was still alive then?”

I gulped, nodding. “I could feel a weak pulse in his neck. I got the towels to try to keep him warm.”

He scribbled in his notebook. A large, raggy-edged plaster wrapped his thumb, grubby over the knuckle and with a disconcerting, rusty stain over the pad of the thumb. “Did you see anything else?”

My heart banged against my ribs. Yes. “Er, no. The paramedics arrived and we were all told to move away.”

The policeman asked me a couple of other things, made brief notes, and let me return to reception.

I settled on my stool, my hands still shaking, my mind running back over everything. What the hell had that thing been? And when it took the light out of the old man, was that why he died? Had it killed him? My head was too full of what had happened to be able to concentrate on my design. While it was fresh in my mind, I turned to a clean page in my sketchbook and drew what I’d seen, storyboarding it out: man hit by car; man gravely ill; strange wraith-like creature; it shushing me; the ball of light. No one else had seen it, I was certain.

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About Author:

Amanda Fleet is a physiologist by training and a writer at heart. She spent 18 years teaching science and medicine undergraduates at St Andrews University, but now uses her knowledge to work out how to kill people (in her books!). She completed her first degree at St Andrews University and her doctorate at University College, London.

She has been an inveterate stationery addict since a child, amassing a considerable stash of fountain pens, ink, and notebooks during her lifetime. These have thankfully come in useful, as she tends to write rather than type, at least in the early stages of writing a book.

Amanda started out writing crime and thrillers, and was awarded a “Crime in the Spotlight” slot at Bloody Scotland in 2016. More recently, she has shifted her focus to urban fantasy. 2020 will see the publication of her urban fantasy trilogy “The Guardians of The Realm”.

During her time at St Andrews, she worked with the College of Medicine in Blantyre, Malawi. While in Malawi, she learned about the plight of the many street children there and helped to set up a Community Based Organisation that works with homeless Malawian children to support them through education and training – Chimwemwe Children’s Centre. It was this experience that helped to inspire the Malawian aspects in her first novel “The Wrong Kind of Clouds”, though, of course, the book is entirely fictional.

She is also the author of “Lies That Poison” – a psychological thriller.

Amanda lives in Scotland with her husband, where she can be found writing, walking, and running.

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Hi, I'm Yesha, an Indian book blogger. Avid and eclectic reader who loves to read with a cup of tea. Not born reader but I don't think I’m going to stop reading books in this life. “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.”

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