Thanks for stopping by my tour stop for The Wolf’s Cry by Natalie
Crown. This is a YA Fantasy book that released in January
2014. This is the first book in the The Semei Trilogy. This tour will run March 10th-21st and consist of reviews, author interviews, guest posts, top tens and a giveaway. Stop by the tour page for the full list of tour stops.
Author: Natalie Crown
Genre: YA Fantasy
Recommended Age: YA
Length: PDF is 199 pages
She is his weakness.
And she will ruin everything.
Kammy Helseth’s idea of adventure never amounted to more than getting a boat across to the mainland and finally escaping to London. That was until she stumbled through the mouth of the forest into a world beneath our own, the world of the Semei.
Her only wish is to find her way home but when Jamie, her best friend, is taken into this new world of shapeshifters and Crystals she has no choice but to stand up to her fear and to remain beneath the surface. Hunted by Bagor, King of Alashdial, and those that are loyal to him, Kammy finds herself in the company of a group of outlaws led by Jad, a Prince with a bitter past and a similarly bitter demeanour.
They overcome age-old prejudice to find a way to work together. But Bagor knows a secret about the Crystals that threatens to change everything. Kammy and Jad must find a way to thwart the king and to save Jamie, but that is just the beginning. For Kammy is in possession of a Key and the fate of countless lives, both human and Semei, may rest in her hands.
The flapping of wings signalled a bird overhead and Kammy smiled. She was not alone. There was no need for her to be frightened. She started to hum softly to herself. Her eyes were drawn upwards, towards the maze of leaves cracked apart by the light. She was not watching where she was going and her trainer connected with something solid. She heard the dull thump and glanced down at her feet. An extraordinary stone rested there. It looked incredibly smooth, like the pebbles she would find at the beach. She gazed at it in wonder and picked it up, holding it out on her open palm. It was beautiful. It seemed to shine in the light, ringed with every shade of blue and then every shade of purple. The colours bled into one another without a blemish in sight. Kammy ran her thumb over its surface. She had never seen anything like it.
There was a rustling sound and Kammy dropped the pebble into her pocket, her eyes jerking upwards. She thought she saw something in the grass. It was small and it moved fast. She saw a flash of a bushy tail and she smiled. It was only the squirrel.
‘Who are you?’
Kammy spun. She pressed her hand to her chest, startled. The fog in her mind lifted a touch further. She started to wonder if something was not quite right and she stared fearfully at the woman before her.
She was tall, much taller than Kammy, and her hair was a tangle of reds and oranges. Her amber eyes rested on Kammy’s with a burning curiosity and there was a soft curl to her lips. Kammy had never seen her before. Kammy had never seen anybody other than her mother in the forest.
‘Who are you?’ the woman repeated, taking a step forwards.
Kammy licked dry lips. She could not find her voice.
The woman’s eyes narrowed but otherwise she did not move. She was dressed strangely. She wore a leather jacket that looked incredibly old and battered. There was a belt, hung with a number of mismatched pouches, on her hip. She looked wild.
‘I’m sorry,’ Kammy croaked, ‘I really should…’
‘Where did you come from?’
Her accent was odd too. Kammy began to tremble. ‘Sorry?’
The woman stared, her gaze cool.
‘I…’ Kammy could not look away from the woman, much less move. ‘I came through that tunnel.’
‘That is impossible.’
Kammy’s throat worked but her words dried up. The woman was like granite, cold and immovable. The warmth and the light no longer entranced Kammy, confronted as she was. She wanted to get away. She could see the tunnel and she knew that the woman’s height would make it difficult for her to follow. If only Kammy could reach it quickly, without being rude.
The woman’s fingers flexed at her sides. ‘I think you should tell me the truth.’
It was a demand almost disguised as a friendly suggestion. Kammy was rooted to the spot.
The woman took a step closer. ‘How did you find this place?’
Kammy shook her head.
‘How did you find this place?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ The words tumbled out of Kammy in a rush and she jerked backwards. The woman simply drifted closer, her eyes sharpening with every step.
‘It is impossible for you to be here.’
The woman was insane, it was the only explanation. Kammy stepped to her left. She needed to get back to the tunnel. ‘I’ll just leave and I won’t come back.’
‘You will have to come with me.’
Kammy’s heart was pounding. ‘No, I have to go home now.’
The woman shook her head, cutting Kammy off with one long stride. She smiled but it was a smile devoid of any kindness. ‘I cannot let you leave.’
Kammy could not stop shaking her head. She stumbled backwards, ‘I…I won’t tell anybody I saw you. Just let me…’
Kammy shrunk away. Her Gran had been right all along; the forest was dangerous.
The woman’s mouth twisted, ‘It is so like your kind to beg and to whine.’
Kammy hardly heard her. Her blood drummed in her ears. She had to run. Her muscles tensed and the woman laughed.
‘If you attempt to flee then I shall be forced to hurt you.’
Kammy froze. Her voice was barely a whisper when she said, ‘Won’t you hurt me anyway?’
The woman’s eyes flashed. ‘Perhaps.’
BLOGGERS NOTE – This book is the first part of a trilogy, and is not a stand alone novel as it ends on a cliffhanger.
I grew up in a village called Swilland, in the countryside of Suffolk,
England. There wasn’t much around, other than farms and fields, but for
the most part I loved it, and I still do. I’m a passionate person by
nature. I don’t just LIKE things, I LOVE things. Whether it’s a book, a
film, or a sports team. Once I decide to enjoy something, I enjoy it to
I’m a terrible cook. I prioritise essential social media work over keeping my flat tidy, because I know best.
Onto my love of reading and, consequently, writing – it was my dad that
played a big role in encouraging me to read. He didn’t push me towards
books necessarily; he simply read a lot himself. Then I would pick up
his books and read them after him. I was reading high and epic fantasy
from a very young age. I guess that might explain why I have always
loved adventure stories with magic and intrigue and princes and
I was aware that I wanted to ‘be a writer’ from a very young age. I was
convinced I would be the first best seller that hadn’t reached double
figures in age yet! I wrote about the Danshees, furry creatures that
lived through a mirror. I wrote about a Sand Bottle that transported a
boy into a world of magic. I wrote about a sick girl finding a music boy
that healed her, but transported her back in time. (Wow, I always have
loved alternate universes…)
When I was eight I wrote my first novel called The Land of No Return.
Despite the title, I am determined to return to it one day. I feel like I
owe it to my past self. So, as you can see, I have always been writing.
There have been times when I have gone weeks without scratching down a
word. Then there are days where I churn out multiple chapters and only
my body’s silly desire for sleep and/or food can stop me.
I write because I enjoy it. I write fantasy because I enjoy it. I try my
hardest to put something of myself into my writing. I like to think my
characters have depth, I like to think that my fantasy worlds reflect
upon the real world in some way. You guys will be the judge of that but
even if you don’t agree I know that I at least try and I can do no more
These days I live in North London and I love it. I work full time and
London is a hectic city. Juggling work, writing and a social life is
tough but nobody is forcing me to do it so I can’t complain. The dream
is that writing will be my career one day but it doesn’t matter if I
never quite make it. I love writing too much to ever pack it in.
I am desperate to get a dog. My mum suspects I miss my cats at home more
than I miss her. I am a devout Arsenal/Ferrari/Rafael Nadal fan. I get
all mad when confronted with a case of social injustice and then I get
all mad when people take the fight for social justice too far. I mostly
keep those thoughts to myself and simmer with rage. I watch good TV and
bad TV, because I can. What I can’t do is enjoy bad books (subjective
opinion of course). I just can’t.
Find the author:
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This tour was organized by CBB Book Promotions