GtPGKogPYT4p61R1biicqBXsUzo" /> Google+ WIP it so Good: UF author Avery Kilpatrick + giveaway | I Smell Sheep

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

WIP it so Good: UF author Avery Kilpatrick + giveaway

W.I.P.: Another Series 

Hi, y’all, my name is Avery Kilpatrick, a new debut author stepping onto the writing scene! I’ve published one other book—a poetry collection called Hurricane Vignette, that’s been out for about two weeks and I’m still getting the hang of things. Thank you to I Smell Sheep for allowing me to share a work-in-progress (WIP/W.I.P.) with y’all! 

Background about the new series I’m working on
(aside from A Stream of Darkness and the Crymsen Crescent series), this WIP takes place in a fictional world known as Kiterra in a magical and industrial age-type era with some modern technology. Of course, magic is the main go-to for doing everyday things such as AC for homes or heating food and tea with special gems that activate with a single touch. There are different kingdoms and continents like in most worlds, but the main ones in this WIP are the Sazarai Kingdom and the Garvani Empire. Since I don’t want to spoil too much, I’ll just say there’s a threat of war between these two nations and the main character/heroine, Rohese Chase, is caught in the middle. 

Rohese Chase is a special character to me with a serious and often-times childish dragon companion named Dimir. She’s tough, full of mischief, and has no qualms about sharing her thoughts and opinions on things. She’s also not afraid to cross moral lines and dish out her own form of justice as a bounty hunter in a small port town called Rizuryn in Sazarai, but Rohese has her own deadly secrets that come to light after the elite group of Sazarai’s military, the Lunaris Order, come to town searching for the Black Rose. The Black Rose was a phantom killer—an assassin that abandoned the Garvani’s elite and secret assassin society called the Mistwalkers. 

I don’t want to say too much about the story since it’s still in the writing stage and things are subject to change from outlining and brainstorming. But, I want to share an unedited snippet of the first chapter with y’all and, hopefully, pique your interest. Ha!

Chapter One (WIP)
Divided into three sections, the Cauldron was the black tumor of Rizuryn Port that continued to grow and fester in the otherwise small, prosperous town. Old cobbled streets were covered in sporadic holes where missing or cracked stones made the carriages and vendor carts dip unsteadily. Crumbling buildings of stone and iron towered over the Black Market that spread its clawed branches throughout the main street.

I hopped over a muddied pothole, hands clasped behind my back as I strolled through the market with pale violet-and-black eyes. Braided copper waves brushed my narrow shoulders as the beating heat of the sun streamed through the old stores and apartment buildings. Freckles decorated my warm ivory skin like exploding fireworks and brushed the length of my cheeks and nose. Despite the intense summer heat of the afternoon, I wore thick, long sleeves that exposed my shoulders to the sunlight and black leather pants. My knee-high kickass boots clicked on the cobbled stone as I surveyed the black market vendors.

Any sign of the target? A deep, male growl thrummed powerfully in my head through the dyrima, or the bond.

My full lips twitched into a small smile at the note of impatience in Dimir’s voice. Stationed a few blocks ahead of me, he waited for the chase to begin.

Not yet, but I’m getting close.

I weaved through the afternoon crowd of rogues and criminals who mainly wandered the Black Market. Though there were plenty of bounties in the immediate area, I was only interested in one: Louis Serafin.

A human trafficker, he often hired the local gangs to snatch young girls from the impoverished suburban area known as the Village. However, this time, he made the mistake of trying to take a Harbinger’s younger sister from his front lawn, and thus, I was hired to take him down and drop him in the laps of the Knights.

My blood sang at the thought of a chase as I cocked my head to the side, wisps of copper brushing against my high cheekbones. I surveyed the surrounding vendors and their goods in mild disinterest before I caught sight of the person I was looking for.

Standing amongst a circle of men who were surveying his “wares”—my upper lip pulled back over sharp incisors—Serafin was showing off a nude girl who looked no older than fifteen to a group of thirty-year-old men. Wrath, ancient and cruel, from my darker counterpart threatened to burst free of my skin, and I soothed the snarling tigress with wicked promises of playing with our prey.

Get ready, Dimir. The chase is about to begin. My grin widened into a cruel smile as I glided toward the circle of men and Serafin.

Do try to contain your Wrath, Rohese. We’re supposed to bring him in alive, remember? Dimir reminded me.

I sent an image of a roughed up yet still very much alive Serafin through the dyrima. He only snorted in response, approval at my reasoning to make the human pay for his deeds resonating deeply in our bond.

“Excuse me, boys,” my words were unearthly as my demonic side—the more prominent part of my heritage—filtered through my voice. I was no undine with the ability to command men with her voice, but I was powerful enough that the few preternatural males immediately stepped aside. The humans, upon recognizing me, skittered to the edges of the crowd, their fear rising in the air and pleasing me greatly.

Serafin’s green eyes took in the cropped top that exposed my naval and shoulders, the tight leather pants, and the intricate dragon tattoo that started at my right shoulder and winded its body around my arm to my wrist. I flashed my teeth at him in a demure smile, the pale violet pools of my irises floating in a black ocean—the only sign that I wasn’t human.

The girl, her gray eyes blank from the horrors she’d suffered at Serafin’s hands, barely glanced at me. She didn’t bother to try and cover her nudity from the prying eyes of countless people who stood around watching the scene. Rage flowed through my bloodstream as I held Serafin’s horny gaze with burning violet-and-onyx eyes.

“How much?” I purred, and the air vibrated with the force of my magic, of my vengeance.

Serafin had no idea who I was or he would’ve realized his other customers’ unease. “You look a little young to be in the Black Market, honey.”

Despite my bounty hunter outfit and the sharp features, I looked eighteen to any normal passerby, but I was much older than I appeared. I’d seen civilizations rise and fall, empires forge and conquer, and kingdoms grow in power and size. Most humans, despite living peacefully—mostly peacefully—with the preternatural community in Sazarai, often forgot that we could live for centuries or thousands of years without aging.

Dimir growled lowly in my head, and I could sense his growing hostility as his Void magic permeated the alley he waited in. No one else turned their eyes toward the dragon’s hiding spot a few blocks over, but it took all my concentration to focus on Serafin rather than my partner’s increasing rage. Like me, he didn’t really appreciate humans selling the younglings for any reason.

“Trust me,” I sidled up closer to the girl, my eyes noting every lashing and bruise on her pale skin. “I’m not as young as I look.”

Serafin contemplated this a moment before shrugging. “All right, what are you willing to pay? The bid starts at five-hundred gold.”

I cut my gaze over to him and with blurring speed, reached up and grabbed him by the collar. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on paying any gold for her. You’re going to let her free and the other girls in your possession.”

His eyes widened at the dangerous glint in my demonic gaze, and I smiled sweetly at him as he floundered uneasily on the small crate he used as a pedestal. “W-w-who are you?”

I released him and the crowd dispersed long before the words left my mouth. “I’m a bounty hunter and I’m here to collect.” 

A Stream of Darkness (Crymsen Crescent Book One)
by Avery Kilpatrick
July 31, 2020
Genre: Urban Fantasy, New Adult with a dash of romance
Word Count: 62,358
Cover Artist: Warren Design
A reformed killer, a dragon agent, and a lone shifter must work together to investigate four abductions…

I've always had a close relationship with death.

Six years ago, I was the Renegade, the Wolf of Eden, terrorizing the streets of a small town in Mississippi. Now, after a plea deal that saved my life, I work for the police as a consultant and unofficial cop.

Obsidian Moon, the Underworlder police agency, isn't doing anything about the disappearances of four college women. It falls to my shoulders while I'm stressing over my college assignments and the new transfer who thinks testing my control is a great pasttime.

Then there's him. The mystery shifter who danced with me at a club and reminds me of home. And he seems to be more than just a random stranger who walked up to an ex-murderer and danced rather than fight.

But I have bigger concerns than two sexy men on my tail as a stream of darkness hangs over Paradise Grove.

The opening of a new series, A Stream of Darkness, will have you guessing at every turn and turning the pages to learn more.

I sidestepped the ramming bull—well, technically, he was a werewolf—and watched with growing amusement as he slammed into the bar.

As one of the more prominent clubs on the Quad, Mirage was filled to the brim with writhing bodies hypnotized by the pulsing music that resounded from the DJ’s throne. The walls thrummed with the powerful beats and siren acoustics coaxed people into drowning themselves in alcohol. Flashing lights of gold and sapphire, of ruby and amethyst, of emerald and topaz, cast colorful shadows on the clubbers who watched the growing brawl in amusement and fear.

I cocked my head to the side and ebony-gray curls swayed to the left as mint eyes burned like a raging pyre as I watched him stumble to his feet. A Cheshire Cat smirk pulled my lips back over elongated canines that gleamed under the colorful neon lights. “OlĂ©!”

The bar, a mix of black quartz and wood, won this round as it remained unharmed. The werewolf shook his head, the tightly braided red curls bouncing lightly against the left side of his skull. His jade eyes were glazed in confusion and there were flecks of pale yellow from the wolf peering through his gaze as his temper grew shorter. He held a hand to his side and attempted to take a deep breath only to hiss quietly. Though wolves, like most Underworlders, could heal themselves through either magic or blood, it took time to fix fractured bones. His linebacker build didn’t help matters either as he held out another hand to grip the bar to steady himself.

He snarled, a rumbling sound that probably caused him more pain than he let on. Our audience murmured as the less than sober patrons realized that the scar dominating my face wasn’t just any old scar from a run-in gone awry. Flowing from my left jaw to the bridge of my nose, the puckered, jagged scar was as much a moniker as a reminder of my “sin.”

“Mind givin’ me another shot, Izzy?” I drawled, my gaze never once leaving the wolf in front of me as we circled each other.

Izzy was already working on my drink before the last word left my mouth. Her hands flashed after working for years as a bartender on the fast-paced Quad, and she wasn’t at all bothered by the brawl in front of her. “I should be cutting you off, Luce, but since alcohol doesn’t effect you—what the hell, right?”

Pink eyes remained amused as she watched the crowd around us groan while money exchanged hands. She had her long, straight platinum locks pulled into a ponytail as two square strips caressed the sides of her sharp cheeks. Placing the shot glass on the tabletop, she placed a fifty-dollar bill beside it with a good-natured grumble.

I chuckled, and the redheaded wolf took the momentary distraction as a chance to tackle me. Sidestepping him, I placed my hands on his back—barely a brush of my fingertips—and slammed my knee into his abdomen. The crunch of bone and the wheeze of air as a rib punctured his lung reached my ears, and my glittering eyes narrowed as he collapsed at my feet with a groan. Either he was truly a newbie with fighting a petite woman like me, or he was attacking with emotion rather than logical reasoning.

As my father would say, he was fighting for his pride and not for survival.

Heading to the bar to collect my shot, I tossed it back with a hearty sigh as the burn slid down my throat. Without me asking, Izzy refilled my glass, and I repeated the action before slamming the shot down on the bar as stumbling steps reached my ears over the roar of the music and drunken crowd. Sighing, I glanced over a narrow shoulder to see the wolf clutching his side as blood dripped from his bottom lip. He just would not accept defeat, no matter how much bigger a predator I was.

“Look, sourpuss,” I adjusted the fingerless gloves on my hands and rolled the sleeves of my leather jacket to my elbows. Pulling my thick, ebony curls behind me, I continued, “I’d hate to kill your pride in front of all these people, but I’ll gladly do it if you’re raring for a good ol’ fight.”

Glaring at me, he clenched his teeth at the calm indifference in my voice as I was not at all intimidated by his hulking form or the flecks of gold in his eyes. He towered over my five-two frame and I looked like a sixteen-year-old girl with a blunt mouth that got me into trouble, but I wasn’t joking around this time.

About the Author:

Avery Kilpatrick was born in Flowood, Mississippi, in April 1996. Raised in a small town in the Mississippi Delta, she has a fondness for nature and the cotton fields that create Southern snow pastures in the fall. After writing her first novel when she was thirteen, Avery decided to pursue her dream as an author at a young age.

An alumnus of Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi, Avery graduated with a Bachelor’s in English. She also worked on the student-run newspaper, The Delta Statement, during her four-year career at Delta State as copy-editor and Editor-in-Chief.

Avery currently lives in a ranch-style home in her hometown in Greenwood, Mississippi. The mother of three fur babies, Cinnamon the spoiled cat, Ginger the rambunctious old lady, and Remington a.k.a. Remi the service dog, Avery has enough fur from shedding animals to make a fourth pet. When Avery isn’t busy writing her next novel, she goes on walks with her mother and dogs, watches Outlander or Criminal Minds on Netflix, or can be found curled up on the couch with Cinnamon reading a good book.

Tour Giveaway:
Two Free Signed Paperbacks of A Stream of Darkness (USA Only)
Amazon Gift cards 3 $10s and 1 $20 for a total of $50

a Rafflecopter giveaway


  1. Thank you for posting! It was an honor to share a piece of my WIP and write a guest blog for y'all!

  2. Sounds like a great book, thanks for sharing!

  3. I am always looking for new authors to read. You write the kinds of books I enjoy reading

  4. thank you for the giveaway

    tiramisu392 (at)

  5. I liked the cover style of "Hurricane Vignette".

  6. I like the cover! The colors are beautiful.