(Crown of Shards #1)
by Jennifer Estep
Kill the Queen, book #1, will be released on Oct. 2.
The Crown of Shards series focuses on Everleigh Blair, a member of the royal family who is distantly in line for the throne of Bellona, a kingdom steeped in gladiator tradition. But when the unthinkable happens, Evie finds herself fighting for her life—both inside and outside the gladiator arena.
. . . In a realm where one’s magical power determines one’s worth, Lady Everleigh’s lack of obvious ability relegates her to the shadows of the royal court of Bellona, a kingdom steeped in gladiator tradition. Seventeenth in line for the throne, Evie is nothing more than a ceremonial fixture, overlooked and mostly forgotten.
But dark forces are at work inside the palace. When her cousin Vasilia, the crown princess, assassinates her mother the queen and takes the throne by force, Evie is also attacked, along with the rest of the royal family. Luckily for Evie, her secret immunity to magic helps her escape the massacre.
Forced into hiding to survive, she falls in with a gladiator troupe. Though they use their talents to entertain and amuse the masses, the gladiators are actually highly trained warriors skilled in the art of combat, especially Lucas Sullivan, a powerful magier with secrets of his own. Uncertain of her future—or if she even has one—Evie begins training with the troupe until she can decide her next move.
But as the bloodthirsty Vasilia exerts her power, pushing Bellona to the brink of war, Evie’s fate becomes clear: she must become a fearsome gladiator herself . . . and kill the queen.
PURCHASE LINKS
EXCERPT
Breakfast recitals, charity luncheons, afternoon teas. I went to all those and more every week, both here at the palace and out in the city. Most of the time, it wasn’t so bad. Usually, all I had to do was smile, nod, and shake hands, along with thanking people for their time, admiring their music, artwork, or goods, and giving short and exceptionally vague speeches about how disappointed Queen Cordelia was that she couldn’t attend herself. At the very least, I almost always got a free meal out of the proceedings. But even that could be fraught with danger. A few months ago, when the third cousin of the king of Vacuna had visited from the southern islands, I had taken part in a traditional feast—one that involved eating the raw liver of a freshly killed wild boar. Under the watchful eye and careful direction of the king’s cousin, I had slit open the boar’s side and rooted around through all sorts of slimy, squishy things better left to the imagination. The stench of blood and guts had almost knocked me over, but I’d found the liver, pulled it out, and eaten the smallest bite that was considered polite. Then, while the king’s cousin and the rest of his contingent were enthusiastically butchering and grilling the rest of the boar, I’d slipped away and thrown up in the potted, golden persimmon tree they’d brought the queen as a sign of friendship. It had been the closest container, and I’d shifted the dirt around inside the bucket to hide what I’d done. The king’s cousin had been very disappointed that the tree had died a few days later, though. Given my magic, scents and memories were often tangled up together in my mind, and thinking about the liver made my nose twitch. Suddenly, the sweet, enticing smells of the baking pies turned sour and rotten. So I gathered up the dirty bowls, spoons, and measuring cups, dumped them in the closest sink, and stripped off my apron. “Here.” Isobel pushed a red paper bag into my hands. “Some plum tarts. For you and that old sourpuss down in the dungeon.” “Casting aspersions on Alvis’s character again?” She huffed. “They’re not aspersions if they’re true. And he is the grumpiest man I’ve ever met.” I grinned. “And Alvis would call you that old sunny side up in the kitchen.” Isobel huffed again. “Better sunny than sour—” Whispers surged through the room, cutting her off. In the distance, heels clicked on the floor, like thunder signalling an oncoming storm. Everyone quit gossiping and focused on their work, concentrating like they had never concentrated before. All conversation ceased, and the kitchen went deathly quiet, except for the thwack-thwack-thwacks of knives cutting through food and the tick-tick-tick of the timers counting down the minutes left on the baking pies. A forty-something woman appeared at the far end of the kitchen. She too wore a scarlet tunic, but hers featured Queen Cordelia’s rising sun crest stitched in a gold thread over her heart. Her tunic had also been tailored to fit her strong, slender form, along with her black leggings, and short black heels adorned her feet, instead of more sensible boots. Everything about her was sleek and sharp at the same time, from her smooth blond bun to her angular cheekbones to the point of her nose. She would have been quite beautiful, if not for the faint pucker of her lips, as though she were perpetually displeased by everyone around her. Maeven, the kitchen steward, surveyed the room, her gaze moving from one worker and cooking station to the next. After several seconds of silent scrutiny, she snapped her fingers at the three guards who were standing behind her, clutching wooden crates full of bottles. “Why are you just standing there? Put those down and go fetch the others from the wine cellar. I want the rest of the champagne for the luncheon brought up immediately.” The guards set the crates down and beat a hasty retreat. Maeven snapped her fingers at some of the teenage servers. “You three. Go help them.” She didn’t raise her smooth, silky voice, but the three servers still flinched and dashed away, almost tripping over their own feet in their hurry. Maeven had been running the kitchen for more than a year now since the previous steward had retired, and the workers had quickly learned that hers was an iron fist on its best, gentlest day.
Crown Princess Vasilia is the daughter of Queen Cordelia. She is a very powerful Magier with a black heart. When her mother invites noble guests from Andvardia to negotiate peace, Vasilia massacres the lot of them and kills her mother and injures Everleigh. Everleigh kept her magic a secret. She was immune to magic and could smell enchantment spells a mile away. Everleigh gets thrown out of the palace when blasted by Vasilia's lightning and falls into the river below. Before Cordelia dies, she makes Evie promise to save her kingdom of Bellona. Everleigh, the last surviving Blair and heir to the throne, must defeat Vasilia before she spreads her vicious and evil attacks and dooms Bellona for good. Cordelia also tells her to find Serilda Swanson for protection. Now the adventure begins. She travels with the troupe of friends and gladiators to some distant land risking life and limb in perilous snow storms only to be captured and made to dance the Tanzen Freund. The writing was very intelligent, and it was fun. I enjoyed it.
LAUREN FORTGANG TO NARRATE KILL THE QUEEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jennifer Estep is a New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling author prowling the streets of her imagination in search of her next fantasy idea.
Jennifer writes the Crown of Shards epic fantasy series.
Jennifer is also the author of the Elemental Assassin, Mythos Academy, Bigtime, and Black Blade fantasy series.
For more information on Jennifer and her books, visit www.jenniferestep.com
ABOUT THE NARRATOR
Lauren Fortgang lives in New York City where she currently works as an actor and voiceover artist. I know her best for her work as an audiobook narrator at Audible, Hachette, Penguin - Random House, Harper and beyond, having recorded roughly 150 unabridged titles and some 200 segments for monthly programming. She has received recognition from Audiofile Magazine, the Audio Publishers Association, the American Library Association and the Young Adult Library Services Association, School Library Journal, USA Today and Publisher's Weekly. Visit her website. https://www.laurenfortgang.com
haven't read nearly as much in my lifetime as most of you probably have, so I definitely need to win these books.... If I must say which book I am most thankful for then it would have to be the Smurfs (schtroumpfs in french) and Peeweet (Pirlouit in french) .
