By Julia on April 10, 2016 Kindle Edition Verified Purchase Review
“I absolutely loved the Falcon Heart series. Kryin’s story drew me in a way that few books have. The plot, characters and action packed scenes quickly draw in the reader and keep you hanging with every chapter. After quickly finishing the first book, I bought the second one because I couldn’t wait to see how the story would finish. I would definitely recommend this book and all others by Azalea Dabill.”
Falcon Flight (Falcon Chronicle Book II):
Kyrin Cieri, long lost keeper of the keys and unfit first daughter, is the hope of Cierheld stronghold or its doom.
When she returns to Britannia from slavery, the king dies, and a treacherous hand wounds Kyrin’s father. Ambitious lords and the intrigue she thought she left behind in Araby engulf her stronghold.
Talik Wyman, holder of secrets, is more than a low-born messenger for the northern lords. Torn by love, loyalty, and intrigue between Talik – a lord’s son she’s sworn never to handfast, a rival stronghold daughter, and the wazir’s vengeance, Kyrin must find the strength to become who she was born to be or all will end in ash.
Behind them all lurks the tiger of destruction. Yet Kyrin carries at her side the falcon dagger, a key to life, death, and a traitor deeper yet.
The shire reeve sighed.
“No,” she said, with an amused sound. She did not speak as a peasant. Sweat dripped from her smudged nose. He grunted. Though she did not look the other-worldly danger that Father Ulf claimed her to be, she was slim with the grace of a hunting falcon, and something about her mirrored its wild beauty. But his men hemmed her against the wall, witch or warrior, caging her well enough. He shrugged.
The last of the sun before the storm caught the flash of her small smile as she looked up.
And the danger in her prickled along his spine. She did not fear him. At all. He straightened with the shock of it, staring, his hand tightening on his sword. His men stiffened.
She crouched slightly. Clearly, she respected him and his sword-arm, yet fear of his attack or judgment did not reach her. She only noted his seat and stirrup, the better to flick him out of his saddle. Here was a different kind of madness. Father Ulf was right; this one was a matter for Lord Bergrin, he thought grimly.
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Azalea Dabill – Dynamos Press