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review 2017-01-15 04:26
HEIR OF THUNDER BY: KARISSA LAUREL
Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) - Sue Fairchild,Karissa Laurel

 

   I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by this story! I really loved that it read more like an epic fantasy. The journey Evie and Gideon took over land, sea, and even air; meeting friend and foe along the way, was quite a ride! I honestly found each place they traveled very interesting, along with all the new people they met.

 

adventures

 

Evie was a great leading lady. She started out this story pretty naïve and sheltered. But what she lacked in experience and worldly knowledge she definitely made up for in temperament! I mean, this girl had to flee the only home she had ever known going up in flames with the people she considered family, to ride out into the dangerous unknown with only her trusty horse, cloak, meager supplies and the stoic horse master Gideon. And bravo to her for keeping her head in the midst of all that! She even (mostly) listened to Gideon's instructions and put up with his secretiveness along the way. That's a hell of a lot more than I would have been capable of  doing! I actually liked that she was naïve in the beginning, seeing these new places and experiencing things for the first time through her eyes made everything seem just a little more beguiling. It also made her interactions with people more interesting. I feel like she got a taste of the best and worst that humanity has to offer, and with each new meeting, whether good or bad, she grew as a person, and as a soon to be Queen, which was important.

 

I quite liked Gideon too. He was pretty standoffish in the beginning especially, but I think in the end he did genuinely come to care for Evie, and I think he is a good guy, caught in a very hard situation. By the end of this book I came to feel like I understood much of why he was the way he was, most especially with Evie, and it made more sense to me. I'm rooting for this guy! I was super proud of Evie each time she showed him how much he underestimated her though! So I suppose I am mostly TEAM EVIE!

 

The magical/mythical element here was fantastic! The Stormbourne legacy was enchanting! Descendants and rulers of Thunder and Lightening....

 

so-excite

 

Evie has a very rich family legacy and I quite enjoyed each new piece we learned about it as the story progressed. I am DYING to know what happens next after that KILLER ending!

 

 

I CAN'T WAIT to get my hands on the next book! To briefly sum this up for you, if you are a fan of fantasy, give this book a try! So much happened, so many lands were explored, and the characters were well fleshed out and had grown by the end, and I find it very impressive that Heir of Thunder managed to feel so epic in just 288 pages, but it did, so major props to Laurel for pulling that off! A cloak of invisibility, flying ship, kidnapping, prophecy, betrayal, adventure, revolution, and forbidden love, I mean what more could you possibly want?!

 

prophcies

 

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review.

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review 2016-11-11 16:32
Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles #1) by Karissa Laurel
Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) - Sue Fairchild,Karissa Laurel

  

syns

 

The Lord of Thunder’s sudden death leaves his daughter, Evelyn Stormbourne, unprepared to rule Inselgrau in his place. Weeks before Evie’s ascension to the throne, revolutionaries attack and destroy her home. She conceals her identity and escapes under the protection of her father’s young horse master, Gideon Faust. Together they flee Inselgrau and set sail for the Continent, but they’re separated when a brutal storm washes Evie overboard.

In her efforts to reunite with her protector and reach allies on the Continent, Evie befriends a band of nomads who roam the world in airships fueled by lightning. She also confronts a cabal of dark Magicians plotting to use her powers to create a new divine being, and she clashes with an ancient family who insists her birthright belongs to them.

If she’s to prevail and defeat her enemies, Evie must claim her heritage, embrace her dominion over the sky, and define what it means to be Heir of Thunder.

 

my though

 

Being a fan of Karissa Laurel’s work it was a no-brainer reading this book YA or not. Besides I like YA books just as much. And I was not disappointed. It was a beautiful paranormal coming of age story that kept me captive and guessing to the last page. I really enjoyed the world, in which we follow Evie (Evelyn Stormbourne) through her adventure. World building was great and it just brought you right into the setting. Though, I have to say that the beginning of the book seemed a bit slow, with the world and character interdiction but once we get past that point maybe 15-20 % into the book it really picks up and fast . Things are happening with and to Evie, and she is just trying to survive. She also has a lot to learn as she never used to have to do much on her own, being sheltered by her father most of her life didn’t help. Now on the run with Gideon she has to learn fast. Of course there are hick-ups and not everything goes as smoothly as she thought. She also learns quickly that she should not trust everyone and that betrayal is a real. I liked how much Evie grew throughout the book and how she became more and more confident in her abilities and herself. Gideon is there to get her to safety in one piece, but there are a few things that are a mystery about him. We learn more and more about as Evie grows closer to him. But how much we really know about him is yet to be seen. Evie meets a lot of great and interesting people along the way. Some help, others are out to get her … some do both. Overall great book and I enjoyed it a lot, once it got passed the slower start. Really looking forward to see what happens next to Evie and her crew.

I rate it 4 ★

 

 

photo tumblr_lzxh3acXZV1rpic2po4_r1_400_zpsstdoefwd.gif

 

 

*I received a free copy from the publisher via Netgalley and chose to leave a voluntary review. Thank you!

 

 

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Available NOW 

 

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Snoopydoo sigi

Source: snoopydoosbookreviews.com/heir-thunder-stormbourne-chronicles-1-karissa-laurel
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url 2016-09-26 15:28
Release Day for Heir Of Thunder by Karissa Laurel With Excerpt

photo HoT_zpscb5kvegu.jpg  

Happy Book Birthday to Karissa Laurel's for Heir Of Thunder.

To celebrate with her we will have a great excerpt from the book. We also will have info and buy links for the book.It will be available in paperback later this year, but for now you can purchase it on Amazon kindle.

 Make sure to check everything out. 

Happy Reading :) 


AbtheB

photo HeirOfThunder_300dpi_1842x2763_zpsuntafcng.jpg  

The Lord of Thunder’s sudden death leaves his daughter, Evelyn Stormbourne, unprepared to rule Inselgrau in his place. Weeks before Evie’s ascension to the throne, revolutionaries attack and destroy her home. She conceals her identity and escapes under the protection of her father’s young horse master, Gideon Faust. Together they flee Inselgrau and set sail for the Continent, but they’re separated when a brutal storm washes Evie overboard.

In her efforts to reunite with her protector and reach allies on the Continent, Evie befriends a band of nomads who roam the world in airships fueled by lightning. She also confronts a cabal of dark Magicians plotting to use her powers to create a new divine being, and she clashes with an ancient family who insists her birthright belongs to them. If she’s to prevail and defeat her enemies, Evie must claim her heritage, embrace her dominion over the sky, and define what it means to be Heir of Thunder.

 

 

goodreads-badge-add-plus-

 

 

Buy Link

 

amazonBig

 

 

Excer

 

 

A rumble of thunder woke me. I shifted under my quilts, turned towards my window, and searched the sky for clouds. Storms always made me smile; made me feel a little less lonely. Black clouds, lightning, and rain reminded me of better times, when thunder was a regular event in our household. My father used to make the loveliest thunder—more like percussion in a heavenly orchestra than cannonade and ordnance. I had never mustered the necessary energy to expulse that kind of force. My attempts always sounded more like the blast of a large pop gun. Another report rippled through the air, but it sounded wrong this time—a little too sharp and cold for something as organic as thunder. A third, angry blast proved the source was nothing harmonious with nature. The clamor had a cadence, a rhythm, and when I slid out of bed, the vibrations from it quaked through the stones under my feet. Boom! “1... 2... 3... 4....” I counted off a half-minute and—Boom!—another explosion. I counted a half minute again, which concluded with another detonation. My bedroom door flew open, and Gerda rushed in still wearing her rumpled nightgown. The braid she wore for sleeping had slackened during the night, and stiff rust-colored curls sprang around her face. Fear and worry crackled from her like static from a wool blanket. “Evie, my dear, you’ve got to get dressed.” She pulled me to my feet and yanked my sleeping gown over my head. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Gideon was just at my door. He told me have you out to the stables as quickly as possible.” “Did he say why?” “He did not, but I won’t be the one to contradict him. The look on his face was murderous.” “How is that different from any other day?” Boom! Gerda didn’t laugh, and that worried me more than the persistent racket. “What in the world is making all that noise?” I asked. “I haven’t had the time to look, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.” “I figured out that much for myself,” I said under my breath. If she heard me, she chose to ignore it and tossed me a pair of wide-legged trousers disguised as a skirt. I slipped them on while she scurried to unearth my boots. “I take it we’re not using the carriage?” “Gideon said you would be riding.” “What about you?” Gerda backed out of my wardrobe, wide rump first, and turned to face me. A stern expression hardened her face as she clamped her hands to her hips, and in a sharp tone said, “You are our main concern, Evie. Let’s get you safely away, and then I’ll worry about myself.” “Safely away from what?” Boom! Glass shattered in a room somewhere below us and the whole house shuddered. “From whatever is making that horrible clatter. Quit asking questions and get dressed!” Gerda rarely lost her temper, especially not with me. Her abnormal temperament stirred me into action. I wrestled a high-collared blouse over my head, buckled on a wide belt, buttoned up a short suede waistcoat, and laced up my favorite riding boots. She shoved me onto a stool beside my vanity and yanked my hair, forcing it into a tight braid. “Your hair’s straight as a stick and slick as a snake. I can never seem to weave it into a proper plait, even when I have plenty of time and my hands aren’t shaking.” “Forget it. I’ll twist it up like usual.” I reached back to take over the familiar routine, but Gerda smacked my hands away. “No, I’ve almost got it.” She grunted once and yanked again. I winced but had the sense to keep my protests to myself. “There.” She retrieved a ribbon from one of her ubiquitous pockets, wrapped it around the end of the braid, and double-tied the knot for reinforcement. “I don’t want any of it coming loose while you ride.” I reached back and patted the careful arrangement. “Thank you, Gerda. Now, you get dressed and we’ll go.” “No!” She stomped a stubby foot. “Gideon was clear. He only wants you. You must go. Now.” Another explosion rocked the floor, and Gerda stumbled against the wardrobe. She leaned on the heavy piece of furniture until she regained her footing. The house shook and groaned as something structural gave way. Yells and shouts carried up from the lower floors. “Are you going to meet us?” I asked. My heart raced, dancing a flittering beat. “Do you know where we’re going?” “I don’t, but Gideon will take good care of you.” Tears welled in my eyes, but the steely look on her face kept them from falling. “What will you do?” “I’m going to get dressed and gather up Stephen and our boys. We’ll be out the door a short bit after you.” “Then why can’t you go with me?” “Now’s not the time for whining, Evelyn. Be a good girl. Do as I say.” She used the same mother-hen tactics she had employed when I’d proved to be a tempestuous child. It set the proper tone to rouse me from my panic. “Hug me,” I said. “I’ll miss you.” She threw her thick arms round me and pressed me into her abundant bosom. “I’ll miss you too, my girl.” I inhaled her scent—a mixture of all the herbs in her garden, and especially comfrey, her favorite cure-all. She squeezed me again and broke away. “Gideon will keep you safe, if you’ll listen to him and not let your impetuousness get in his way.” She gathered my raw silk cloak from its hook by the door and tossed it at me. I snapped it from the air and swirled it over my shoulders. When the cloak caught a beam of sunlight streaming from the window, the fabric shimmered with rainbow swirls like a soap bubble. “Go now. Hurry.” Gerda yelled her final command over the screaming of tortured metal, as if a giant-toothed creature had bitten into the soul of the house. I hugged her again and dashed out the door. In the hallway, several of the house’s other occupants hurried past me in various states of dress. Tolick, the all-purpose houseboy, ran toward the stairwell. He had managed to button on his trousers but had neglected to remove his nightcap. On the bottom floor, I turned for the kitchen. The cooks had abandoned their breakfast preparations. A large porridge pot bubbled over on the stove, and thick strips of bacon burned on a griddle. A babble of excited voices drifted in from distant corridors, but no one came my way as I scurried toward the rear door of the kitchen. Beyond the exit, my route led me through Gerda’s garden, a sanctuary of herbs and vegetables protected by a stone wall enclosure rising high overhead. Thick vines of ivy and budding wisteria climbed the tops of those barriers. She would need to prune them soon, but we were all running, fleeing these familiar walls. Would we return before the ivy took over? Would the house survive long enough for it to matter? I ran past the garden’s iron gates and my breath puffed in thin, vaporous spurts. Spring had arrived less than two weeks ago, and the mornings still lingered in the recent days of winter. I pulled up my hood and wrapped my cloak tighter around me as a shield against the cold. At that moment, I could have turned around for an unobstructed view of my house, but that would have meant witnessing its destruction. The house cried to me, but what relief could I offer? A feeling of helplessness settled in my gut like curdled milk. Father would have known what to do, but I was merely his daughter, his masterwork left incomplete by an untimely death. I hacked a derisive cough at that thought. As if death ever comes at an appropriate time. Curiosity overrode my fear. I slowed, stopped, and turned on my heel. As I wheeled around and looked up, my heart plummeted to my feet. The house stood ablaze, smoke billowing from several of the first floor windows. Its wooden floors and beamed ceilings would surely feed the flames and turn the billows into a monstrosity of acrid, black plumes. The exterior might survive the fire—an ancestor had constructed Fallstaff from large granite blocks that had withstood tide and time for hundreds of years—but it wouldn’t survive the volley of explosive fodder from the trebuchet now installed on the front lawn. One of my father’s war manuals showed illustrations of that vicious machine, but I had never seen one in reality. Someone with a brain for engineering had rigged this one with a system of levers, pulleys, and gears. A steam engine automated its processes, and every few seconds a conveyer belt fed another iron missile into a waiting bucket attached to a long wooden arm. From this distance, the trebuchet looked like an assemblage of toothpicks and hungry metal teeth, yet its ammunition tore holes through Fallstaff’s stone and mortar like a moth devours a wool sweater. A group of men stood around its base, guarding the machine with rifles and crossbows. No one tried to engage them or fight back, as all were too concerned with escape. From that distance, they appeared as little more than stick figures. I stepped closer in hopes of recognizing their uniforms or gear. “Evie, what are you doing?” Gideon’s unmistakable bellow interrupted my thoughts. My father’s young horse master waited at the gate of the small paddock beside the stables, clutching two reins in his fist. One leather line led to his giant black stallion, Gespenst—a Dreutchish name meaning specter, or ghost. The other tether led to my horse, Nonnie, a gray-coated mare with a dappled rump. “Gideon, what’s happening?” I jogged toward him. Something exploded behind me, and the aftershock sent me stumbling, but Gideon’s free hand shot out and latched around my elbow. I locked eyes on his stoic face and refused to look back. “This is no time for an explanation,” he said. “Mount up, we’re riding south.” He tossed My horse’s reins in my direction and slid onto Gespenst’s back with an ease that demonstrated his familiarity with the saddle. Nonnie snorted and rolled her eyes, announcing her displeasure over the noise and brusque treatment she had inevitably received from Gideon as he’d arranged her tack. Nonnie and I managed most of our adventures on nothing more than wild oats and a few apples lifted from the larder. This journey would undoubtedly last longer than any we had taken in all our years together, and she must have felt some of the same trepidation as I. She stomped an eager hoof as I mounted, and when I nudged her forward, she fell into a canter behind Gideon and his horse. Gespenst bore saddlebags stuffed to the brim. The tip of Gideon’s compact repeating crossbow, Sephonie, poked from the edge of the flap. I thought of my own crossbow, which I’d never felt a need to name, and wondered if it had made its way into Nonnie’s packs. Gideon could take a stag from horseback with one shot; I could shoot a slow moving rabbit... if I had time to focus and plenty of solid footing. I had no idea where we’d go, but at least we wouldn’t starve on our way there.

 

 

Abouttheauth

 

 

Karissa and Bonnie

 

Karissa lives in North Carolina with her kid, her husband, the occasional in-law, and a very hairy husky named Bonnie. Some of her favorite things are coffee, chocolate, and super heroes. She can quote Princess Bride verbatim. She loves to read and has a sweet tooth for fantasy, sci-fi, and anything in between. Sometimes her husband convinces her to put down the books and take the motorcycles out for a spin. When it snows, you'll find her on the slopes.

 

Links

 

 

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Source: snoopydoosbookreviews.com/release-day-heir-thunder-karissa-laurel
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