Brittany's Book Rambles: Beneath the Haunting Sea Blog Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway

Hi everyone! I have the pleasure of being a part of the Beneath the Haunting Sea Blog Tour. Today, I'm sharing with you an excerpt from the book, along with a giveaway! I hope you enjoy it ^_^

Beneath the Haunting Sea by Joanna Ruth Meyer

Publisher: Page Street Kids
Pub. Date: January 9th, 2018
Buy Links: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Book Depository

Can't you hear it, Talia?
Can't you hear the waves singing?

Sixteen-year-old Talia was born to a life of certainty and luxury, destined to become Empress of half the world. But when an ambitious rival seizes power, she and her mother are banished to a nowhere province on the far edge of the Northern Sea.

It is here, in the drafty halls of the Ruen-Dahr, that Talia discovers family secrets, a melancholy boy with a troubling vision of her future, and a relic that holds the power of an ancient Star. On these shores, the eerie melody of the sea is stronger than ever, revealing long-forgotten tales of the Goddess Rahn. The more dark truths that Talia unravels about the gods' history--and her own--the more the waves call to her, and it may be her destiny to answer.

Joanna Ruth Meyer is a writer of Young Adult fantasy. She lives with her dear husband and son in Arizona, where it never rains (or at least not often enough for her!). When she's not writing, she can be found teaching piano lessons, drinking copious amounts of tea, reading thick books, and dreaming of winter.

Connect with Joanna: Website | Twitter | Facebook

Talia was fast asleep in the cabin belowdecks when the storm came. She started, awakening to the violent tilting of the floor beneath her and waves slamming against the sides of the ship, so hard she thought it might break apart. She climbed out of bed to look through the porthole, but the ship jerked her backwards and sideways, throwing her in a heap against her mother’s bunk. Somehow, her mother slept on.

She fought her way to her feet again, grabbing the edge of the porthole and digging her fingers into the wood around it. She peered through the glass.

The black sea leapt at the ship, clawing to get in. A flash of light exploded over the water, followed by a near-deafening crack of thunder. The vessel seemed to shake—the world seemed to shake.

She couldn’t help but think of her mother’s gods, and the stories she used to tell about them: Tuer of the mountain and Raiva of the trees. Mahl and Ahdairon, lord and lady of the air. Uerc of the beasts and Huen of the earth. Caida of the Stars and Hahld of the rivers. Aigir of the sea.

Watching the storm through the porthole, she could almost believe the stories were true. She was struck by her own helplessness, caught in the middle of the vast ocean at the mercy of the waves, maybe even the gods.

Another flash of lightning, another crrraaaack of thunder. A wave hit the ship so hard it tipped sideways, throwing Talia against the door. Her bare foot caught on something sharp and she hissed in pain. The next moment she was tossed back toward the porthole. She touched it with one hand, and the icy coldness of the glass shot through her.

And then she saw something out there in the storm: a huge shape gleaming in the rain. Her thoughts tangled with images of sea monsters or gods come suddenly to life. She and her mother could die tonight. Drown in the black sea amidst the splintered remains of the ship.

Lightning slashed across the sky, illuminating the world for an instant, and there it was: a whale, nearly the size of the ship, swimming beside them in the storm. She stared, transfixed. Thunder crashed overhead, and once more the ship lurched crazily, tipping her away from the porthole.

She scrambled back toward the glass, fighting the roll of the vessel, desperate for another glimpse of the whale. Just as she reached the porthole lightning flashed again, but there was nothing out there anymore. The creature had vanished from sight like the sea had swallowed it whole. Like it had never existed at all.

Her mother awoke as the ship tipped again, and the porthole was suddenly on the ceiling.

“ Talia!”

“ I’m here!”

“ TALIA!”

“ Here.” She grabbed her mother’s hand in the dark, alarmed at the terror in her voice.

Her mother wept, sobs wracking her entire body and Talia clung to her, desperate to calm her down. The ship shuddered around them and the lightning roared. Any moment now Talia thought the vessel would break apart and they would all be devoured by the sea.

“ She’s angry. She can feel us here and she’s so angry.”

Her mother’s words frightened Talia more than the storm. “ What are you talking about?”

Another wave hit, knocking them both onto the floor. Talia heard something snap, and her mother screamed.

“ Mama!”

Her mother screamed again. She couldn’t seem to stop.

Talia wrestled to her feet, scrabbling in her pocket for a packet of matches. She lit the lamp on the ceiling. Orange light spun crazily through the cabin, illuminating her mother, writhing on the floor with tears streaking down her cheeks. Her right wrist was bent almost entirely backwards against her arm.

Talia ran out into the storm to get the captain.

***

Her mother wouldn’t stop screaming.

Captain Oblaine came bolting down to their tiny cabin, hard on Talia’s heels, and lifted her mother back into the bunk, careful not to knock her broken wrist.

“ She’s so angry!” her mother cried, writhing in the captain’s grasp. “ She’ll kill us all!”

The storm lashed the ship from side to side and lightning flared outside the porthole. Her mother kept screaming.

The captain pinned her into the bunk while Talia watched, helpless and horrified.

“ Find Hanid!” the captain barked. “ Ask him for the medical kit!”

And then Talia was running back up to the main deck, wrestling against the clawing wind and icy rain, shouting Hanid’s name.

The ship lurched starboard, and Hanid was there, grasping her elbow.

She shouted into his ear so he could hear her: “ My mother’s hurt! We need the medical kit!”

He squeezed her arm and was gone, sliding across the deck.

She clung to a rope lashed about the main mast to keep herself upright and waited for him: one heartbeat. Two. Sailors swarmed the deck like frantic insects, hauling lines and trimming sails and fighting to keep the ship afloat. Their shouts and curses tangled with the memory of her mother’s screams.

She counted to twelve and Hanid was back, lugging a large leather box with him. He pressed it into her arms. “ Gods keep you!” he cried, then turned back to help his men.

Talia scrambled with the box back down into the hold, and Captain Oblaine took it from her, drawing out bandages and a glass bottle.

“ She’ll kill us all!” gasped her mother, over and over. Sweat and tears poured down her face.

Oblaine uncorked the bottle, and held it to her mother’s lips. “Drink.”

She did, coughing as she swallowed, her whole body trembling.

“ What is that?” Talia demanded, kneeling on the floor beside him.

“ Opium. It will ease her pain, Miss Dahl-Saida, and calm her. Help her sleep through the night.”

Sure enough her mother lay quiet now, her breathing steady again. The captain bandaged her wrist with quiet efficiency.

He shook his head, his eyes finding Talia’s. “ Gods only know why I agreed to this commission. Catastrophe follows you.”

“ Why did you?”

He considered her. “ It wasn't just for the money, if that's what you're thinking. If my daughter were here in your place, I would want someone to watch over her. Keep her safe.”

She glanced at her mother’s form in the bed, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Her throat felt tight. “ Thank you.”

Oblaine nodded. “ Call me if you need anything else.”

He took the medical kit and went back up into the storm.

Talia stayed kneeling by her mother’s bed, shuddering as the waves beat hard against the ship, trying to get in, trying to break them to pieces.

She fell asleep without meaning to, and woke with the morning to find that the storm had passed, and the sea once more ran calm.

Her mother woke, too, and her dark eyes were glassy with fever.

Excerpted from BENEATH THE HAUNTING SEA © Copyright 2018 by Joanna Ruth Meyer. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.