Mundie Moms

Monday, April 21, 2014

REMNANTS by Lisa T. Bergren, Blog Tour: Excerpt & Giveaway

Hello & welcome to today's REMNANTS blog tour stop! I'm so thrilled to share a snippet of a dramatic scene from Lisa's newest release. First, here's a little bit about the book. 

Andriana is a Remnant, one of the gifted teens born on the seventh day during the seventy-seventh Harvest after the Great War, and destined to act as humanity’s last shield against the horrors that now plague those who remain.

After years of training in stealth and warfare, Andriana and her Knight protector, Ronan, are finally ready to answer the Call and begin the life they were designed for. But as they embark with the other Remnants on the first of their assignments, they quickly discover that the world beyond their protected Valley home is more dangerous than they imagined.

The Sons of Sheol will stop at nothing to prevent Dri and Ronan from rescuing anyone sympathetic to the Remnants' cause. And as the Remnants attempt to battle the demonic forces, other enemies close in. Dangers intensify, but so do Dri's feelings for Ronan--the one emotion she is not meant to feel. In the midst of their mission, Andriana must find a way to master her feelings, or risk compromising everything.

Buy the book from: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books A Million 

A Favorite Dramatic Scene from REMNANTS

Mr. Olin left the room, and I stole glances at the fine fixtures around the plates. Gleaming silver candelabras, one between every four place settings. The four crystal goblets, in various sizes, above each plate. A thick, soft napkin that I couldn’t resist running my finger across—I’d never touched such fine fabric! Above, on the walls that climbed high, high above, were pictures—vast oil paintings of foreign landscapes and people in odd costume, next to golden-edged mirrors. I forced my attention back to my task. It wouldn’t do to have Mr. Olin return and see I’d gotten distracted.

I’d set fourteen plates, carefully measuring from the lip of the table and then placing them as instructed, when I heard a woman singing outside the window.
I looked left and right, and saw both doorways were empty. No, stay on task, Dri.

I went and took three more plates from the stack and placed them as I’d been told. But the woman’s voice—so high, so clear, so haunting—filled the streets and filtered up to the dining hall and through the slightly opened windows. The doorways remained empty as I returned for three more plates; no one else apparently was about. I took up more plates and was turning when I heard her voice, in haunting measure, each syllable floating up to me …

“And upon the field, and upon the plain,
The Ailith rose where they were slain,
And forevermore, whenere’ she sang,
He wept and wept and wept again.”

Had I misheard her? Or had she actually mentioned the Ailith?
I rotated back to the window and saw that the sun had broken through the clouds and streamed through them, down toward the palace and in through the window in dusty rays. I could see the outline of other rooftops, the edge of the castle wall … Unable to resist any longer, I hurried over to the glass and looked down. Below was a small courtyard surrounded on three sides by buildings—one of which was this fine house—and atop a small pedestal was the woman.

The singer continued to weave her song, each note higher and higher, while her eyes stayed focused on the window. My window. She seemed to be singing directly to me, staring but not seeing, with wide, glassy eyes. I listened hard, but her words seemed to be slurring, becoming difficult to make out. But surely her words, and one in particular, hadn’t been my imagination! As I attempted to decipher more of her song, people gathered before her and rocked back and forth to the tempo, smiles across their faces.

It was just sinking in that my cuff was humming, along with dropping in temperature so that it chilled my entire arm, when a man said, “She has quite the beautiful—”

I whirled, and the center plate slipped from the stack in my hands. I tried to grab it, missed, and then all three were slipping in different directions.

“Whoa!” the man said, reaching out to grab one from the air and then another with lightning-fast hands.

Just as the last was about to hit the marble tiles, I knelt and caught it, inches from shattering. I let out a little breath of relief and wonder, then slowly looked up, along fine trousers, a wide belt, and a shirt of the finest silk, to the handsome face of a man of about two decades. Two young women trailed behind him. All three of them had honey-gold blonde hair, eerily similar in shade. Dyed?

Still holding the plates, he grinned down at me. “Girl?” he asked, lifting them slightly, as if to remind me of my task.

“Oh! Forgive me,” I said, rising in a fluid motion. “Thank you so—”

“Girl! What a travesty! What were you doing?” asked the butler, sweeping in beside us. He bowed, and bowed again. “Lord Maximillian, forgive her. Forgive us.”

Lord Maximillian. The lord of this house? One so young? He couldn’t be more than two decades-and-two. The kitchen gossips conversation came back to me and I eyed his companions. Where was the third?

“Girl!” Mr. Olin barked, frowning furiously at me. I hurriedly looked to the ground.

“Ease up, Olin,” he said. I could feel his gray-green eyes studying me, examining every inch of me. And my armband was vibrating, the chill a stark warning. But it confused me. Because every other time it had grown so cold, I was around Sheolites. Men out to kill me. This one … wasn’t. Was he?

“I startled her, Olin,” he said, his tone warm and friendly. “It was entirely my fault.”
I glanced up then, grateful for his intercession, and his smile broadened a bit. He had even, white teeth. Dimples. And that honey-blond hair that curled about his ears. I inwardly reached out, trying to read him, but got no emotion at all.

“By the cosmos, you’re certainly beautiful,” he said, staring back into my eyes. The women behind him, dressed in the manner of Pacifica, drifted away and out the door, as if excused.

I looked down again, embarrassed at his praise. Was that the way of Castle Vega? Such easy compliments?

“When did you come to work in my house?” he said.

“Just this morning,” I said.

“You shall address Lord Maximillian as ‘my lord,’” Mr. Olin snapped, cheeks reddening. He hadn’t informed me, and I was apparently making him look bad.

“What’s your name?” Lord Maximillian said in an easy tone.

“Andriana … my lord,” I hastened to add.

“Get back to your task, Andriana,” Mr. Olin hissed, “with the salad plates next.” I immediately set off, reaching with trembling hands for more plates and hurrying to the table.

But the lord of the house followed me, studying my every move. I gave him a darting look over my shoulder and tried to read him again—wanting confirmation of warning, clarification, anything—but could get nothing, nothing but confusion, flitting emotions impossible to pin down. He paused, and then smiled. I decided he was flirting, playing, not intending to do me harm. Perhaps the armband had been warning me of someone else, nearby. The chill in it had thawed a bit. I fought to control my breath, and dropped my shoulders and lifted my chin, pretending as if he weren’t there.

“Have we met before, Andriana?” he asked.

“No, my lord.”

“Are you quite certain?”

“Quite, my lord,” I said, measuring the plate from the edge of the table and adjusting it a tad.

“Somewhere in the city, other than this house?”

“No, my lord.”

“How? How are you so certain?”

He stood in front of me, blocking my way. I dragged my eyes up to meet his, trying to think of an answer that would send him on his way. “Because I just arrived in the city, my lord.”

The young nobleman studied me, smiling with chin in hand and his eyes squinting, then waved the butler away. I felt Mr. Olin slip from the dining room behind me and felt twice as vulnerable. How I longed for my sword …

“Stand still for a moment, Andriana.” I did as he asked; there was no getting around it. The lord’s eyes ran from the top of my head, raked slowly down my body to my toes, then back to my face. I bent my head in shame, wishing I could take him down and choke him until he understood that I was to be respected. He’d never met a woman like me. If he only knew what—

“Do you play a game with me? Tell me the truth. Have we not met? You are terribly familiar. Perhaps in another district … one you don’t wish to admit to.”

I swallowed hard. It didn’t take much for me to imagine what sort of district that might be, in a city that had no moral code. “No, my lord, I am not playing a game. Perhaps I only remind you of another.” I waited, head bowed, and he finally stepped aside so I could continue my task.

“So you are new to Castle Vega,” he insisted, trailing me. “Perhaps we’ve met elsewhere in the Union or Pacifica. From where do you hail?”

“Most recently from Georgii Post,” I said, moving around him to retrieve more plates once he leaned against the cupboard counter, directly in my way.

But as I lifted my arms, he caught my wrist with his right hand. “Now what is this?”

I froze and looked at him, the Maker only narrowly keeping me from twisting, turning, and flipping the man onto his back. Could he feel my darting pulse beneath his fingers?

His eyes moved from my flared nostrils down to my armband, well aware that I was alarmed, angry that he dared to touch me. Enjoying it. He casually lifted his left hand and ran his fingers up the slit, separating the fabric, peeking in. The humor in his green eyes faded. “Where did you get this, Andriana?” he asked.

My armband was icy-cold. It was as if he recognized the design. Because of the tattoo that Kapriel and Azarel shared? I remembered Azarel and Asher’s fear when they saw whose house our Georgii Post friends had led us to, their refusal to enter. Was this young lord one they feared would recognize them?

Even with him touching me, I still wasn’t able to read his emotions. But they were plain enough on his face. Danger, my heart screamed. Danger, danger, danger …

“A trinket,” I said, gently but firmly pulling my wrist from his grip. “Given to me by someone dear. A simple reminder of my home, Lord Maximillian,” I said, reaching up with my other hand, as if I might cover it, hide it, make him forget he’d ever seen it.

“A trinket,” he repeated flatly, looking into my eyes. Staring hard. Penetrating as if he could reach through them and delve directly into my heart, grabbing hold of it and the truth within.
I gasped and took a step back, as if he’d struck me, my hand moving to my heart. I could feel it pound beneath my palm, but it felt distant, foreign. My armband began to vibrate, so cold it felt as if it might shatter.

Excerpt from Remnants: Season of Wonder, by Lisa T. Bergren. © Lisa T. Bergren 2014. Reproduced here by permission of the author.

Be sure to write down this STOP #19 LAUNCH TOUR CLUE: I believe

Collect all the clues and fill out Lisa’s Rafflecopter form on her launch tour post at at the end of April and you could win either a Kindle Fire HDX ($229) or iPod Touch ($229)!

What’s the most dramatic thing that’s happened to you lately? We want to hear! Comment below!

About the Author
Lissa T. Bergren 

Lisa T. Bergren is the author of over forty books, with a combined count of over 2.5 million copies sold. She has written best-selling children’s books, award-winning YA (River of Time Series:Waterfall), popular historical fiction, contemporary fiction, women’s nonfiction, and gift books. She is a writer and editor residing in Colorado Springs, CO, with her husband and three children. You can find out more about Lisa at


  1. Thanks so much for hosting me on the tour, Mundies! xoxo

  2. Dramatic thing to happen to me? I can't think of anything off the top of my head (I lead a pretty boring life!), but I do know I'm looking forward to reading this book! :)

  3. Unfortunately, nothing dramatic has happened to me of late so I have been receiving my adrenaline rushes through books like these. :-)

  4. Dramatic - nothing comes to mind - years ago I had to speak in front of a group of people and messed up...the crowd though it was hilarious - i was glad it was over.

  5. Love the cover! Can't wait to read it.

  6. I'm pretty boring lol. The most dramatic thing in my life are the stories in my books lol.

  7. Most dramatic was surprising mom and dad at Christmas by bringing my little brother home. He is in the Air Force, and they didn't think he could make it.

  8. My husband got a Stem Cell Transplant - right out of science fiction of my childhood. crystalbluern at onlineok dot com

  9. I try to avoid drama! Even in reading I sometimes try to avoid it by reading the ending to make sure it all turns out well :)

  10. Helping take of a family member for a long time.

  11. Probably a bat coming into my house while I was sleeping, thus meaning I had to take it in to be tested for rabies so I would know whether to get treatment.

  12. This sounds like such a great story! I love her writing style.