S. W. Raine

Launch day is fast approaching! Before we know it, Tuesday the 11th will be here, and Rise of the Sky Pirate will hit the shelves!

Have you heard about the pre-order bonuses?

If you email me a pic of your proof of purchase to raine@swraine.com by 11:59 p.m. on the 10th, I’ll mail you an acrylic pin of the book cover, a signed sticker, and a bookmark featuring a quote from Benedict.

Once we reach 30 pre-orders, anyone who has/will emailed me proof of purchase will also get a digital bonus scene featuring Benedict and Lady Catherine as the lands are starting to split! Want more goodies? Spread the word! The more pre-orders I get, the more stuff you get! Check out the pre-order campaign here!

Still on the fence? Would reading the first chapter help? You’ve come to the right place!

CHAPTER 1

Benedict Keenan had escaped jail. It wasn’t the first time, and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last.
     At least his crimes were petty enough to warrant a jail cell as opposed to being taken to prison. He didn’t doubt his skills of escaping the latter; he simply didn’t wish to test them out.
     The moon shone bright and full, but the floating land of Upper London cast most of London Below in shadow. Thankful for such cover, Benedict scaled the buildings with ease, his long legs propelling him from rooftop to rooftop to avoid being caught in the streets below, each crumbling slate tile cracking more beneath his feet. The sooner he reached his destination, the better.
     The symmetrical rust-colored brick establishment was finally in sight, standing slightly taller than the crumbling stone buildings around it with its familiar pointed arches and steep roof. The tension in his muscles and jaw relaxed as he drew closer to his safe house. Slowing his pace, he carefully calculated his jump onto an extended tree branch nearby and leaped with feline poise, quickly adjusting his footing and balance on the thick limb. Expertly pushing past the split trunk, Benedict stepped onto another sturdy branch before jumping again, calloused hands gripping onto the ledge just beneath the third-story windows.
     Progressing to his left, he made his way to a window illuminated by wildly dancing candlelight. The sound of heavy breathing reached his ears as he quietly slid the window open, and Benedict smirked. He’d have to have a talk with Kitch about giving in to her urges while on the job. His toes had hardly touched the floor when Benedict suddenly froze.
     This was not Kitch.
     His dark eyes quickly scanned the room, finding that he did not recognize the setup or any of the items inside. Had he been gone for so long that he’d forgotten which room was hers? No, that was impossible. He’d only been locked up for a week. Maybe two—he had lost count. Casting a rapid glance over his shoulder to double-check that he indeed had the correct window, he pulled his leg back out as quietly as he could to not alert the worker or her client to his presence and risk being tossed back into the slammer. Shuffling over to the next window, he cautiously peeked inside.
     Kitch was not there, either. With a frown playing on his features, Benedict tried a few more windows with no luck. His heart began to pound faster. What if something had happened to her? What if she had fallen ill and passed away, or one of her love-struck clients had stabbed her in a jealous rage?
     Before he could think up another possible scenario as he reached the next window, a hand snatched his wrist and pulled him inside before he could make a sound.
     His mind reeled as he came face-to-face with a pair of glaring blue eyes. “Are you trying to get yourself caught again?” she hissed. “The entire world could hear you!”
     Though her tongue was quicker than his, Benedict’s reflexes were far better honed. As her hand threatened to leave its mark across his cheek, he grabbed her wrist to stop her, glaring in turn. After attempting to yank her arm back without success, the other hand flew up, and Benedict caught her other wrist with just as much ease before shoving her onto the bed and away from him.
     Once he knew he was safe from her sudden barrage of violence as she opted for a scowl instead, he inspected his surroundings. He whistled, impressed. Decorated with rich and regal fabrics of all colors, this cozy room was much bigger than her last. “Who did you—”
     “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” she warned as she got back to her feet, smoothing out her red skirt. “I worked my way up the ladder with honesty, unlike you.”
     Benedict smirked. “Don’t be like that, Kitch.”
     “I can’t keep doing this!” she said, exasperated. “I can’t keep being your safe house and covering for you.” Stepping over to her vanity table—walnut-colored and bound with brass—she dropped onto the fluffy beige cushion atop the matching bench. Reaching for one of the brass knobs beneath the oval mirror, she pulled open the tiny drawer and grabbed a small round tin that lay nestled in the lush velvet lining. Applying the red salve from the tin onto her lips, she pressed them together before reaching for another drawer, where she pulled out her rouge as she continued to scold him. “The higher I move up the ladder, the more I know and the more I can control, but you are making things entirely too difficult all the time.”
     Benedict watched her expertly massage the carmine dye into her cheeks. He never understood why she used cosmetics; she was already naturally beautiful and the obvious envy of all women with her perfect porcelain skin. “Are you saying that you’re doing this for me?” he asked.
     “I’m saying that we’ve been through a lot, and we deserve better.” Kitch put the tins away before reaching for her raven black hair. It was silkier than he remembered it being as a kid. She pinned it up in a fancy chignon and, for a moment, looked so grown-up that it almost hurt Benedict to keep looking at her. “I make enough on my own. I don’t know why you keep giving me your wages . . .”
     Stepping over to her as she pulled a string of beautiful pearls out of another drawer, he took the ends, his dark eyes on her reflection in the mirror. “Because I want you to have a good life,” he replied as he tied the necklace about her neck before delicately placing his calloused hands upon her bare shoulders.
     Kitch placed a hand over one of his and continued to look at him in the mirror. “You’re straying from your path, Ben.”
     Benedict didn’t want to hear it. Pulling away, he headed for the massive wooden chest against the far wall, where he rummaged through Kitch’s various accessories down to the bottom for his spare clothes. He remained quiet as he changed out of the prison linens and into his fancier duds.
     Straying from his path? What did she know? He was climbing his own ladder just fine. If she meant the many times that he’d found himself jailed, well, those were learning experiences. One couldn’t move forward until all potential obstacles were dealt with. The more he dealt with his own obstacles, the more of a straight shot his final attempt would be.
     He finished dressing, adjusting the crisp cuffs of his sleeves as he turned to face Kitch, who now stood before him, her hands locked together in front of herself.
     “You look the part, but you don’t act it,” she commented.
     “Are you saying nobles don’t get locked up?”
     “I’m saying that I can’t keep up.”
     “Looks like you need to hurry and get another promotion,” he teased.
     “Get out of my room before my next client shows up,” she said, a smirk on her own painted lips.
     Grinning before leaning in, he placed a kiss on her rosy cheek before pulling away, heading to the window to make his exit. He was partially out when he turned back to Kitch. “I saw all the money I’ve ever given you at the bottom of that chest,” he pointed out. “I gave it to you to spend.”
     “I’m saving it for when I need to bail you out of Coldbath.”
     “Might want to find a better hiding place.”
     The last thing he saw of Kitch was a glower before he climbed the rest of the way out of the window and vanished into the night.

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Excited for my release!

Raine