I’m PUMPED to be a part of the A Spark Unseen blog hop! Get ready for exclusive behind-the-scenes info from author Sharon Cameron, giveaways and trailer sneak peaks!
A Spark Unseen Blog Hop, Day 7
I really enjoyed A Spark Unseen. If you haven’t read it yet, check out my book review here! This is a historical fantasy you don’t want to miss!
About A Spark Unseen
When Katharine Tulman wakes in the middle of the night and accidentally foils a kidnapping attempt on her uncle, she realizes Stranwyne Keep is no longer safe for Uncle Tully and his genius inventions. She flees to Paris, where she hopes to remain undetected and also find the mysterious and handsome Lane, who is suspected to be dead.
But the search for Lane is not easy, and Katharine soon finds herself embroiled in a labyrinth of political intrigue. And with unexpected enemies and allies at every turn, Katharine will have to figure out whom she can trust–if anyone–to protect her uncle from danger once and for all.
Filled with deadly twists, whispering romance, and heart-stopping suspense, this sequel to THE DARK UNWINDING whisks readers off on another thrilling adventure.
Find Sharon Cameron:
- Website – sharoncameronbooks.com
- Twitter – @CameronSharonE
- Facebook – http://on.fb.me/19zQcRl
A Spark Unseen Trailer
Katherine Tullman, Then & Now
Katharine Tulman, THEN –The Dark Unwinding
Lane reached out and yanked me to a stop, pulling me around to face him. “Then why won’t you lie? Why? You understand him! Better than I do in some ways and I’ve had the running of him since I was a boy. If you won’t do it for us, then for God’s sake do it for Mr. Tully!”
His voice rang against the wood, glass, and gilding. I waited for the sound of it to die before I spoke. “My aunt will find out the truth and take Uncle Tully away no matter what I tell her. And Stranwyne, too. And if she finds I’ve lied to her –when she finds I’ve lied– she’ll leave me to the streets without a thought.” I pulled my arm away. “I can’t keep Uncle Tully out of an asylum, and I can’t keep the villagers out of the workhouse. The only person I can possibly save is myself.” I pushed my wheels against the floor and rolled away from him. I was no Joan of Arc.
Katharine Tulman, NOW –A Spark Unseen
And suddenly I knew I was homesick, not just for the Stranwyne I’d left but for the Stranwyne I’d known before. For the grandeur of Uncle Tully’s shop, and Lane at a workbench, smelling of smoke and paint, for the summer sun on metal and the steam engines thrumming and my uncle’s joy when he wound up his toys. The sheer injustice of the loss twisted all my melancholy into anger.
I stopped the flower’s turn with one finger, its gyroscope coming abruptly to a halt. My uncle’s vibrant, spinning world may have been shrunk to the size of this attic, but I would extract every drop of happiness from it that he could possibly have. I would live away from my home, tell every lie that was needed, and be the lady Mr. Babcock required. And I would bring us Lane. If we could not have our life at Stranwyne then we would build our old life here, cog by cog and stone by Parisian stone. This I would do. Somehow. Would not rest until it was done. For my uncle. And for myself.