Bey Deckard, Cover Reveal

Cover Reveal and Exclusive Excerpt – Fated: Blood and Redemption (Baal’s Heart III)

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Title: Fated: Blood and Redemption
Series: Baal’s Heart
Author: Bey Deckard
Cover Artist: Bey Deckard
Release Date: April 11th, 2015
Word Count: 117 000+
Pre-Order Now: Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon UK | Amazon AU
Goodreads Link: Fated

Blurb: With the captain’s mind in shambles, Jon and Tom set out to find the passage home through the black mountain range, hoping to find a cure for Baltsaros’s madness. However, when the men are forced to part ways, darkness takes root in the schism created; fate, lust, and vengeance become obsessions threatening to tear apart the fragile bonds holding the three together.

Following on the heels of Sacrificed, Fated takes the pirates on a quest to find those responsible for the captain’s bloody beginnings. But can they survive what awaits them where past and present meet?

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Excerpt: Tom gave Jon a faint smile as he took his place behind the ship’s wheel. Pitching the bastard overboard wasn’t what was bothering him; the man’s life or death hadn’t concerned him in the least… though being ripped apart by those things sure made for a good tale to tell. No, it was the way that Jon’s voice had taken on the same cold, precise tones that so often fell from Baltsaros’s lips. Even his accent had changed a little. Tom shook his head and tightened his hands on the handles without a word.

“You’re worried about me,” said Jon softly.

Frowning, the first mate nodded, keeping his eyes forward.

“Don’t be worried about me, Tom,” said the young captain.

Chewing the inside of his cheek for a second, Tom nodded again.

“We ready?” he asked gruffly. He looked over at Jon and saw that he was staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

“I’m not turning into him,” said Jon. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Tom shrugged and turned the wheel a little back and forth, impatient to get going.

“Ye bloody sounded just like him, Jon.”

When Jon reached for him, he wasn’t expecting the sudden, sharp pain in his scalp as his fingers snarled a wicked handful of Tom’s hair and tugged his head back. Jon brought his face close, his storm-grey eyes furious.

“You wanted me to be captain, so I am being captain. It is not easy for me, but I am fucking doing it the only way I know how,” Jon growled through clenched teeth. “If you don’t like it, you can go fuck yourself. And… What makes you think you can go behind my back and string up passengers without my say-so?”

Tom opened his mouth to speak, but Jon’s hand tightened its hold, and he let out a pained grunt instead.

“The issue should have been brought to me first. Me. The captain. Isn’t that how it works on this fucking ship? No. Instead you go around terrorizing people and then suddenly come dump the problem in my lap with no warning, putting me on the godsdamned spot to figure out what sort of punishment fits the crime. I had no idea what to say… Shit, how do you think that makes me look in front of the crew? Half of them still see me as some kind of fucking bed warmer for you and Baltsaros.”

Jon gave Tom’s head a little shake, and he winced.

“You need to work with me, Tom. Not against me. Godsdammit, you know Punga could have sat, not hung, in the brig for another day or two, and we could have taken care of things together. And, for hell’s sake, you ass, of course I was going to pull him out of the water. I saw that look on your face, Tom. I’m not a godsdamned killer. I’ve killed three men now, and I’m pretty damned sure it’s not going to become a hobby. I don’t want to see you doubt me like that again. Understand?” He let go of Tom and stood glaring him.

Tom rubbed the back of his head.

“Yes, Cap’n,” he said sedately with a small nod. Then Tom let the grin he’d been holding back curve his lips and cocked his head. “Feel better?”

Jon’s face creased into a sheepish smile, and he chuckled, nodding.

“Much,” he confessed. “Gods, I am not cut out for this shit.”

Tom shook his head.

“Naw, love. I think yer doin’ just fine. Yer bloody right, ye know. I should stop worryin’ about you so much, and I should’a come to ye the second that red-haired witch came to see me.”

“Ceara came to you?” Jon heaved a sigh and raked both his hands through his mess of curls. “Argh! Fuck. Ok. I’ll take care of her too. If she’s trying to win me over, she sure as hells is taking the wrong path. I can’t stand the idea that people would take things like this into their own hands rather than bother me. Bother me, for fuck’s sake. I know I’m stressed as fuck, but bloody hells, how else am I going to learn?”

Tom grinned wider at Jon’s increased use of profanity.

Jon furrowed his brow and leaned forward, his blue eyes dark in the dying sunlight as he studied Tom for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and intimate.

“What? You think this is amusing? Just so you know, if you get us through these mountains in one piece, I plan on using you so thoroughly that the only words left to you will be please and more.”

The first mate blinked, a sudden pulse of heat taking him as his heart kicked up in surprise. He laughed and Jon smiled back a little wolfishly.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Tom said and eagerly grabbed the ship’s wheel again.

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Author BioAuthor Bio: Born and raised in a small coastal town in northern Québec, Bey spent his early summers on his uncle’s boat and running wild on the beaches of the surrounding islands, lighting fires and building huts out of driftwood and fishermen’s nets. As an adult, he eventually made his way to university and earned a degree in Art History with a strong focus on Anthropology. Primarily a portrait painter and graphic artist, Bey sat down one day and decided to write about the two things that he felt most passionate about: sex and the sea.

Bey currently lives in the wilds of Montréal with his best buddy, a spotty pit bull named Murphy.

Links: Website | Facebook | Facebook Author Page | Twitter | Google+ | Amazon

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