Stolen by Marlena Frank
This blog tour includes a giveaway and an excerpt.
It’s difficult taking care of a delusional father by yourself. Sixteen-year-old Shaleigh Mallet would rather explore and photograph dilapidated buildings than cater to her father’s dark episodes. But when she’s kidnapped by a creature who carries her atop a flying bicycle into another world, she realizes this wasn’t the escape she wanted.
In a kingdom known as the Garden, where minotaurs pull carriages and parties are held in hot air balloons, Madam Cloom and her faerie servant, Teagan, rule over the land with incredible but terrifying magic. Shaleigh must prove that she is the reincarnation of a long-dead ruler, not because she believes it, but because it’s her only chance to survive. With the help of a trespassing faerie, a stoatling, and a living statue, Shaleigh hopes to outwit everyone. She aims to break the bonds of servitude and finally make her way home. What she doesn’t realize, however, is that she’s playing right into the hands of a far worse enemy...
Title: Stolen
Author: Marlena Frank
Series: The Stolen Series, #1
Genre: Fantasy
Recommended Age: Young Adult
Release Date: January 22, 2019
In a kingdom known as the Garden, where minotaurs pull carriages and parties are held in hot air balloons, Madam Cloom and her faerie servant, Teagan, rule over the land with incredible but terrifying magic. Shaleigh must prove that she is the reincarnation of a long-dead ruler, not because she believes it, but because it’s her only chance to survive. With the help of a trespassing faerie, a stoatling, and a living statue, Shaleigh hopes to outwit everyone. She aims to break the bonds of servitude and finally make her way home. What she doesn’t realize, however, is that she’s playing right into the hands of a far worse enemy...
Shaleigh thought the party had died down, but she was wrong. The party was even more crowded than when she had left earlier. Professors, staff, and every other person in the department appeared to be stuffed into the three rooms that Hammond put aside for his parties. Shaleigh had put on her nicest black dress and applied coconut oil on her twists to make sure they looked nice. Even though she hated wearing dresses, she always felt underdressed at these parties. She turned to ask Dean Hammond where they had all come from, but he was already engrossed in another conversation. On her way to the punch table she barely avoided a collision with one of the wait staff, who seemed just as anxious about all the people as she was. She sipped on her punch and eyed a corner where she could disappear to when she heard her father's voice over the hum of conversation.
“I’m sorry, have we met?”
A woman’s voice responded with humor, "I don’t mean to stare, but you look so familiar!"
"That’s alright, it happens. Dr. Haki Mallet.” Shaleigh looked to see her father shake the woman’s hand, adding, “but you're welcome to call me Haki. I'm afraid I'm usually cloistered up in my office, so I doubt we've met before."
"Did you come alone?"
"No, I came here with my daughter. I believe she stepped outside. Her mother couldn't make it, you see, so she was good enough to come instead. I'm afraid Kristen's been home sick the last few days."
"I'm sorry to hear that!"
Shaleigh felt her stomach drop to her knees. She studied the serious woman with bleached hair and didn't recognize her. She must be a new hire who hadn't been deterred by the rumors of her dad. At least, not yet.
"How sweet of your daughter!" The serious woman gave a small smile. "I know my son Charles would never come with me to one of these. He's more mechanically minded. Would likely be bored stiff."
"Shaleigh loves these parties. She really looks forward to them. I'm just concerned about Kristen. When she's home sick, it's difficult to think of much else."
Shaleigh ground her molars together to hold back a snarl. She had to get away from them or else she might get dragged into his stupid lies. She darted to an adjoining room and found a chair in a corner opposite the stairwell. She didn't want to hear him continue. She couldn't stand to hear it all again.
Nursing her punch, she overheard another conversation between two men near the doorway. One of the voices sounded familiar and she looked up to see Dean Hammond's positively irate expression. He was talking to a bald man with a bushy red beard. She strained to listen in.
"I assure you, Red, Haki is hardly getting special privileges. He works twice as hard as many of the faculty in this department and has brought in more funding than almost anyone else. In fact, you could take a few pointers from him."
The bald man gave a nervous laugh. "I don't think making a guest appearance in a single documentary gives him any more clout than—"
"That single documentary brought in more funding than your research has all year. They've already lined him up for two more series and he's becoming a household name. Do you know of any other expert on ancient European mythology who could do what he's done?"
Shaleigh recognized the bald man then. It was Roger "Red" Dawkins, who had been a full-fledged professor for years, even chaired multiple committees, but somehow his brisk personality didn't quite catch on with television executives. He'd been passed up by multiple chances according to her dad.
"I could have. I may not have as many books under my belt, or look as good on television as he does, but I keep busy with the multiple committees I'm on. Perhaps if I could get out of a few of those I could help out with some of these documentaries myself." He polished off his drink. "It just seems like the more work I do, the less research I get done. Haki, on the other hand, somehow manages to get paid more. There's obviously more to it than merely the work. Something I'm missing."
Dean Hammond shook his head and searched the crowd, hunting for an escape. "You need to be more professional, Red. You sound jealous."
"Of course I'm jealous!" Red spat, "For all the praise he gets, you think he could share a bit of the limelight with the rest of us. Perhaps contribute to the department instead of squirreling away all his funds and contacts for himself. We both know he’s a time bomb, and when he does blow it'll affect everyone in the department. The man's a regular loon. He can't be trusted with that kind of responsibility. One day he'll simply snap, and that'll be it. I can only imagine the headlines..."
Shaleigh had never seen Dean Hammond draw himself up to his full height, but the way he stood now with his shoulders blocked off and the anger burning in his eyes, she understood how he had become the dean. "That's enough, Red. Kindly keep your coarse rumors in check."
"No! It's a goddamn fact and everyone knows it. What is it this time? The wife's home sick again, I hear. It's no secret she up and left him fifteen years back. He's a loon and a dangerous liar, Eddie. Everyone knows she's dead after all."
Shaleigh's fingers were freezing on the glass of punch clutched in her hands, but she couldn't move them. Her face and ears burned with rage. She wanted to believe it; she wanted her mother to be dead. As terrible as it was, it would be easier to accept than if she had willingly abandoned them.
"You know what I think?" Red swam on, ignorant of Hammond's obvious ire. "I don't think she ran away. That's nonsense.” He scoffed. “I think he killed her. That's why he's so messed up. Something clicked in his head after that, and he'll never be right. I'm just afraid of what will happen should news get out, Eddie. What would they say if a crazy, lying, murderous professor who has become a household name on television was suddenly dragged out into the light with a murder investigation?"
He was trying to blackmail Hammond. Right here in the middle of a party, right here where anyone could see, where anyone could hear, Red Dawkins was trying to blackmail him using her father. The heat from her face had moved through her body like fire coursing through her veins. She barely felt her frozen fingers as she got to her feet and walked towards them.
At the sight of her, Dean Hammond's stony expression faded as he realized she must have overheard their conversation. "Shaleigh, don’t..."
Red, on the other hand, had been drinking and was completely oblivious. He gave her a cocky grin. "Ah Shaleigh, there you are! How are you enjoying the party?"
Without a word she tossed the icy punch into Red's face and dropped the glass onto the wooden floor. It shattered on impact. A hush descended over the room, numerous pairs of eyes turned towards them, and a scarlet flush lit up Red Dawkins’ bearded cheeks. "Don't you dare say another lie about my father," she growled, keeping her voice low.
The cold drink to the face seemed to have sobered Red up; he glanced around at the eyes watching them and stammered incoherently. Shaleigh didn't give him a chance to collect himself, but turned to face Dean Hammond, whose fury had subsided into bemused calm.
"Sorry for ruining your party, Mr. Hammond."
"That's not a problem, Shaleigh." He glanced over at Red, who was mopping up his face, then back to Shaleigh. "You certainly didn't ruin a thing for me." He gave her a warm smile and Shaleigh took her cue. It was time to leave. The crowd parted for her as she stalked across the room and back into the previous room. The chatter picked up again as she hunted for her father. Both of them had outworn their welcome.
She found him still chatting with the serious blond woman near the punch table, oblivious to what had happened. Shaleigh looped her arm around his and tried to steer him to the exit.
"It's time to go, Dad."
"Just a moment," he nearly spilled his drink and gave her a confused smile. "Amelia and I were discussing the conflicting evidence around Stonehenge." He managed to place his glass on a side table as Shaleigh dragged him to the exit. "What in the world is the problem?"
Amelia, the serious blond woman, called out, "Do give my regards to your wife."
Shaleigh didn't look up to catch the smirks or the hidden laughter around them, though she knew they were there. Her father, as usual, was completely oblivious as she pushed through the large wooden door and down the steps to the front driveway lined with cars. There must have been dozens of them, parked anywhere they could get an inch of cement, and more were piled nearby, cluttering up the grass yard. Shaleigh was sick of them. She was sick of all of them. She was so focused on reaching their vehicle near the end of the turnabout that she barely noticed her father slip out of her grip.
"Goodness, I suppose I'll have to continue my conversation with Amelia on Monday." He sighed as Shaleigh continued onward. "What in the world happened back there? Do you plan to tell me?"
Shaleigh hopped into the driver's seat of the silver SUV, avoiding her father's concerned stare as he climbed in on the passenger's side.
"I don't know if I like you driving at night. You do have your learner's permit with you, don't you?"
"Yes, Dad." She grunted as she turned on the car, "Besides you've been drinking." He didn't argue, and she took off down the driveway; her dad barely had enough time to buckle his seatbelt.
"You can't drag your father out of a party without some kind of explanation, young lady. Did someone make you uncomfortable? Did someone hurt you?"
That last question hit too close to the issue, and Shaleigh paused for a moment before turning onto the street. "I did something I...probably shouldn't have."
He nodded, his glasses gleaming from the passing headlights. "Let's hear it then."
A writer of both fantasy and horror, Marlena’s work is in a smattering of anthologies. Her stories lean toward weird horror, creature horror, and YA fantasy. She typically thinks up strange tales while sipping sweet tea at her Georgia home, listening to podcasts on her hour-long commute, or while reading a good book with her three cats.
Check out my Instagram post for the giveaway.
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