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The Grae Sisters (Books 1 – 3)

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Book Cover: The Grae Sisters (Books 1 - 3)
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Part of the The Grae Sisters series:
  • The Grae Sisters (Books 1 – 3)
  • Warden and the Assassin
  • Professor and the Seer
  • Gentleman and the Witch
An urban fantasy in three parts  featuring very unique triplets.
The Grae Sisters is a three book collection of the following previously release titles.
• Warden and the Assassin ~ I’m the sister you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. Probably why a warden named Bane hires me to protect him from an upcoming arcane event. The odds are stacked against me, but I’m determined to win this fight and Bane’s love.
• Professor and the Seer ~ I’ve been cursed with seeing the future including one where the professor I’ve fallen in love with dies at my feet. There has to be a way to change what’s to come, but what if my choices bring about the apocalypse?
• Gentleman and the Witch ~ The ex-god who demands my aid is no gentleman, but then again, this witch is no lady. Together we will hunt beyond the Earthly dimension in search of our common enemy.  An enemy who miscalculated. Never threaten this witch because I will do anything, even end the world, to avenge those I love.
A blend of urban fantasy and romance that will keep you reading well past your bedtime.
Published: 2024-11-21
Genres:
anthology/boxset/collection, dark humor, god romance, killer hero, killer heroine, magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, psychic romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Supernatural Mystery, Urban Fantasy, Witch Romance, wizard romance
Tags:
english
If you like The Grae Sisters (Books 1 - 3), you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Mr. Peabody's House

Mr. Peabody's House

Book Cover: Lying Mirror

Lying Mirror

Book Cover: Last Minion Standing

Last Minion Standing

Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)

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Book Cover: Earth's Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
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Part of the Earth's Magic series:
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection One (Books 1-3)
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
  • Earth’s Daughter
  • Earth’s Lair
  • Earth’s Elf
  • Earth’s Paladin
  • Earth’s Secret
  • Earth’s Triangle

A dryad on a mission, a witch with a secret, and two hounds ready to howl for love, So much to love in this paranormal romance bundle.

The Earth’s Magic Collection Two contains previously released titles:

• Earth’s Paladin ~ The world might not be ready for Mother Earth’s slightly murderous champion. Too bad, because she’s about to fertilize gardens the old-fashioned way; with the blood of her enemies. Will love temper her need for vengeance?
• Earth’s Secret ~ This Cryptid Authority agent—and witch—has been tasked with investigating a string of arsons. To her surprise, she uncovers a link to her past and now must scramble to survive with the help of her famous—and handsome—partner.
• Earth’s Triangle  ~ These hounds have orders from their goddess to protect a human. Not the most exciting job until they meet her face to face. Adeline’s charm gets their hearts and back paws thumping, but there is a problem: Why are zombies attracted to her?

Lighthearted, paranormal fun in a world where anything can happen, and love always prevails.
Published: 2024-10-31
Genres:
anthology/boxset/collection, curse romance, dark humor, dryad romance, killer hero, killer heroine, magic and sorcery, Menage/Polyamory, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, second chance romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Supernatural Mystery, werewolf romance, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
If you like Earth's Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6), you might be interested in:
Book Cover: 'Roo and the Angel

'Roo and the Angel

Book Cover: The Monster King

The Monster King

Book Cover: Earth's Nexus - Books One to Three

Earth's Nexus - Books One to Three

The Warlord’s Lady

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Book Cover: The Warlord's Lady
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Part of the Magic and Kings series:
  • The Barbarian King’s Assassin
  • The Desert King’s Spy
  • The Pirate Queen’s Captive
  • The Warlord’s Lady
  • Magic and Kings Collection One (Books 1 – 3)

This warlord doesn’t believe in magic - or love - until he meets a very special lady.

Something evil is lurking in the mountains and Kormac doesn’t know how to fight an enemy that can’t be seen or touched.

While a warlord hates asking for aid, he can’t allow his pride to get in the way. He requests assistance from the witch queen—in secret, of course, because magic isn’t real. Or wasn’t in his corner of the world, until now.

Fionna, the witch who arrives to evaluate the situation, is unlike anyone he’s ever met. Bold. Fearless. Beautiful…

He didn’t count on how much she would test his patience—and his control.

As they work to squash the danger spreading from the mountains, and she impresses him with her skill and courage, he starts to wonder if she’s the lady he’s been waiting for. His mother certainly doesn’t think so, but Kormac didn’t become warlord by allowing others to make decisions for him.

However, taking her as his wife will depend on them surviving the machinations of the evil entity that’s returned to take its vengeance.

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Published: 2024-09-26
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
epic fantasy, Fantasy Romance, forbidden love, killer hero, killer heroine, magic and sorcery, Romantasy, royalty romance, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

Fionna splashed in the puddle by her house. Mama had told her to stay inside while she ran errands, but the sunshine beckoned, as did the hollow in the yard, full of water from the rain.

Splash.

The stomp of her foot shot up water that soaked her tunic, but she didn’t shiver in the warm fall sunshine. Her little feet stamped, and she wondered why Mama had forbidden her to be outdoors. She’d tucked Fionna away ever since those men on big horses had ridden past their home the day before.

Speaking of which, one trotted into view. A large male with a full beard riding a brown horse with white spots.

“Hello there,” he said with a smile that showed yellow teeth.

“Hi.” Mama had told her to not talk to strangers, but she’d also taught her to not be rude.

READ MORE

“Are your parent’s home?” he asked, glancing at the hut where she lived with Mama. Papa had been put in the earth in the spring, taken by a fever that also claimed her younger brother.

She shook her head.

“Well then, I should keep you company,” he stated, sliding off his horse.

At his wide grin, a frisson of unease went through Fionna, and she took a step back. “I don’t need company. Mama will be back soon.”

“Then we best be quick.” He lunged and she shrieked, darting out of his reach, racing for the hut. Her fast little legs got her inside and she slammed the door shut but couldn’t get the bar across in the hooks. The door was kicked open and the big man stood in the doorway, his smile no longer friendly.

Fionna retreated, but there was nowhere to flee in the small space.

“Be a good girl now. Don’t make me hurt you,” he cajoled.

“Get out of my house!” Mama’s shriek from outside relieved Fionna who didn’t understand what the man wanted.

The big fellow whirled. “Mind your business.”

“Excuse me? This is my home, and you have no right to enter it.”

“And who’s going to stop me?” The man stepped out of the doorway and Fionna crept forward to watch.

Mama stood a few paces from the man, her market basket hanging from her arm, looking fierce, but also frightened. “The Duke won’t—”

“Won’t know a damned thing because you’ll keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”

“Leave and I won’t have to say anything.” Mama’s chin tilted.

“I’ll leave when I’ve done my business.”

“You have no business here,” Mama insisted.

“Will you shut up for a coin?” The man held out his hand and Mama recoiled.

“What kind of demon are you? Trying to buy a child?” Mama screeched. “Wait until the Duke hears.”

“Oh no he won’t,” growled the man. “Nattering nag.” The man lunged for Mama, who swung her basket. It connected with the man but didn’t stop him from grabbing her by the neck and lifting her.

Mama’s eyes bulged. Fear filled them and she gasped, “Run, Fionna.”

Fear froze Fionna in place.

Crack.

Mama went limp and the man dropped her and then turned to face Fionna. “Where were we?” The expression on his face terrified.

Once more, Fionna went running, her little legs pumping, and she might have made it to the woods if she hadn’t tripped.

The man fell on her, grabbing at her tunic with one hand, grunting as his other fumbled at the rope holding up his britches. Sheer terror had Fionna trembling, but also fighting like a feral cat. She clawed and thrashed, but he was stronger. As he held her down and tore at her clothing, he told her what he would do.

Awful things.

Cruel things.

Fionna felt her emotions boiling, hot and cold as fear, anger, and desperation churned.

And exploded.

Literally.

The man turned into chunks of bloody meat.

A shocked Fionna lay on the ground, wide-eyed. It took her a moment to realize the threat was gone. She raced back to her mother’s body, but the unseeing eyes brought a wail to her lips.

Mama was dead.

A passing neighbor found her sitting on the ground, holding her mother’s lifeless head. They also saw the remains of the man who’d killed her.

“Come with me girl,” he muttered.

Fionna went in silence with Horatio who brought her to the town magistrate. When questioned, she told them what happened, about the man who’d killed her Mama, and how he’d tried to hurt her but exploded.

“How did he explode?” asked the magistrate.

Fionna shrugged. “Perhaps it was Mama’s ghost protecting me.” What else could it be?

They placed her in a room used for the storage of linens and kept the door locked. She saw no one except the magistrate’s wife, who brought her meals but didn’t speak. She’d open the door, slide in a bowl, and shut it quickly.

Five sleeps later, the door opened, and a woman strode in, her skin the rich brown of the trees in the forest, her hair a lustrous black. Her eyes were a startlingly beautiful shade of green that matched her cloak.

“Hello, Fionna,” the woman greeted her softly.

“Ma’am.” She gave a curtsy to the fine-looking lady.

“I hear you ran into some trouble.”

Fionna bit her lip. “A man killed my Mama.”

“And what happened to the man?” asked the woman.

“He exploded.”

“So I hear. Do you recall how you felt when it happened?”

She shrugged. “Scared. Angry.”

“Has that kind of thing ever occurred before?”

She shook her head.

“May I hold your hand?”

Fionna hesitated only a moment before sliding her small fingers into the woman’s palm. Heat emanated from the woman, a tingle that felt good and brought a smile to her lips. Colors danced before Fionna’s eyes, wispy tendrils that she wanted to pluck.

“That tickles,” she giggled.

“Aren’t you a lovely surprise,” the woman murmured. “Tell me, would you like to leave this room and come with me to a place where you won’t have to be afraid?”

“Is it far?”

“Yes, but we shall ride a horse.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse,” Fionna admitted, wondering if the lady would change her mind.

“Then you shall learn. The place we shall go to has teachers.”

“A school?” Her eyes widened. She’d heard of them. Places of learning for those who could afford it.

“Of sorts. We teach more than just your letters and numbers, though. In addition to lessons, you will have your own room. Proper meals. And fine clothing to wear. What do you think?”

It sounded like a dream. She nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Fionna left with the woman, whom she noticed everyone kept a wary distance from. The horse was huge in her eyes, but the woman had no problem lifting Fionna to sit before her on the saddle.

The journey was wondrous, and she learned much. Such as the woman’s name—Amelia—and the fact she was a witch who sought out children with the gift of magic like Fionna. They travelled to Mystic Keep, the home of the reclusive witches in the Acca marshes, a stone fortress with many hidden passages and secrets.

What began as a tragedy turned out to be the best thing for Fionna. She became a novice who caught on to her lessons quickly. As a teen, Amelia took her as an apprentice. By the time she’d turned twenty-one, she’d become a full-fledged witch with a strong gift in all of the elements. When Amelia ascended to the throne, Fionna was by her side, glad to serve the woman who’d changed her life for the better.

She would have most likely never left the Keep if evil hadn’t emerged to plague the world. A world that suddenly had a use for witches.

Chapter 1

Decades later…

 

The soldier arrived in Kormac’s war room dusty and exhausted. According to a whispering Lomar—Kormac’s general who had eyes and ears everywhere—the soldier’s steed collapsed the moment the man slid from its back. Judging by the marks at its mouth and the cold sweat sheening its body, the horse had been ridden hard.

The soldier, unshaven and smelly even from a distance, staggered in Kormac’s direction. The guards he passed did not offer any aid. To do so would be an insult.

Sitting on his throne carved from a single piece of obsidian, Kormac studied the weary man and wondered what had befallen him. He didn’t recognize the fellow, but that didn’t surprise. His horde numbered in the thousands.

“Warlord.” The man dropped to a knee and thumped his chest while dipping his head in respect.

“Your name?” Kormac asked while wondering why his forearms tingled where his long sleeves hid the bracers he wore tight to the skin. An odd sensation that he’d never experienced before.

“I am Ioan, formerly of Greenhead Valley, Warlord. I come bearing grave news from the garrison at the Risead Pass.” A pass to the far east of Kormac’s territory, eternally guarded despite the lack of civilization past it. The Andeir mountain range separated them from the valley of mist beyond it.

Many didn’t understand why the warlords—not just Kormac, but those who came before him, as well—kept sending soldiers to the Risead Pass to stand watch. It seemed pointless and yet “Guard the Risead Pass” was part of his oath when he took command. That was it. No reason given as to why, but out of respect for his ancestors, he still did it to this day.

Kormac’s brow arched. “A long journey. You’d best have a good reason for abandoning your post.”

“Not abandoned, Warlord. Sent by Lieutenant Khaal, the garrison commander, due to an emergency.”

“An emergency that merited you travelling leagues and days rather than sending a message by bird.” The fort at Risead kept a coop of kalmais, birds trained to fly back and forth between the Wexkord, the capital of Srayth, and whatever garrison they were assigned. Using the birds avoided delays in imparting important developments.

“The kalmais are dead, Warlord. Everyone is,” Ioan blurted.

The news rocked Kormac, and it took him a second to control his reaction. His nearby general didn’t hide his expression of shock.

“Everyone?” Lomar asked in a low tone.

The soldier nodded.

Disturbing news, and not something that should be common knowledge until Kormac knew more.

“Lomar, clear the room,” Kormac ordered his second as he eyed the guards at the far end of the room manning the doors. Far enough they shouldn’t have heard, and even if they had, they knew better than to talk. Still, best to not test them. He’d hate to have to make an example because of loose lips.

Lomar shooed the guards from the room and barred the doors to avoid interruption. As this occurred, Kormac stared at the soldier who’d left his post to bring this dire news in person. Stared long enough the man fidgeted. He should, after claiming to be the sole survivor of a garrison a hundred men strong.

Once Lomar reached his side, Kormac growled, “Explain.”

“The troubles started with Peol. He was the first to go missing. Went on patrol in the Pass and never returned. We assumed one of the maakath got him.” Aggressive creatures that were part bear, part feline, and lived in the higher elevations.

“You didn’t find a body?” Lomar clarified.

Ioan shook his head. “Haag and Wexl went looking for him and never reported back. Neither did the next pair of trackers. which led to Lieutenant Khaal doubling up the patrols from two to four men.”

Kormac said nothing and waited for the man to take a breath.

The soldier’s voice dipped. “Even with four men, it didn’t stop the disappearances. We lost two more groups before Lieutenant Khaal suspended the patrols.”

“Suspended the patrols? The whole point of the garrison is to watch over the Pass,” Kormac remarked. Never mind the fact nothing but maakath and other high-altitude beasts had ever been seen in that cold and barren gash through the mountain.

“The lieutenant knew you’d be displeased but he didn’t want to lose more men. He decided to set baited traps at the entrance to the Pass and around the garrison. Freshly slaughtered lamb along with live ones. Whatever took out the missing soldiers didn’t take the meat. Rather, it toyed with us by tossing the bait aside and replacing it with those who went to check in the traps.”

Lomar interjected, “Replaced? That kind of action doesn’t sound like an animal.”

“And yet, what was done…” Ioan swallowed hard. “I saw the bodies. They’d been strung in the snares, heads cracked open, innards pulled from their stomachs.”

Savage, but most definitely not the actions of an animal. Hungry beasts ate what they hunted.

Kormac tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne. “So many dead and yet I never heard anything? Your tale seems unlikely.”

“Up to this point, Khaal still assumed we dealt with a maakath or another beast gone rabid. The display made of those men forced the lieutenant to realize we might be dealing with something more. He wrote a missive to you.” The man fumbled at his jerkin, leading Lomar to put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “However, he couldn’t send it. When he went to the aerie, not only were the birds all gone, Unwe—their keeper—was dead, too.”

“Something infiltrated the garrison.” A quiet statement.

“That’s what we all assumed even as we couldn’t figure out how. There’s only one door to get in, and it was never left unguarded. The lieutenant doubled the garrison perimeter guards. Ensured the entrance was secured. It didn’t help. Every night after, we lost several men.”

“Several?” Lomar burst out. “And you’re telling us you found no culprit? Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth,” Ioan insisted. “It was eerie as none of those killed screamed or even struggled. The next morning we’d just find them, some killed in their bunks, others left eviscerated on the parapets.”

“Always killed in the same fashion?” Kormac asked to clarify.

“Mostly. Slices to the gut were the most common. Some got it across the neck, too. A few had their heads caved in.” Ioan paused and took a breath before continuing. “After the third night of losses, and down more than thirty soldiers, Khaal ordered us to saddle up and ride out.”

“Abandoning his post rather than digging out the root of the problem.” Kormac’s lip curled. He had no patience for cowardice.

Ioan tried to defend his lieutenant’s actions. “What else could he do? We couldn’t figure out how and who was killing us.”

“So, you deserted and what? Knowing of their disgrace the rest of the garrison fled, leaving you to be the only messenger. Brave of you to volunteer.” Kormac’s smile had the soldier quaking.

“No, it wasn’t like that. We were supposed to leave together. The night before our departure, whatever hunted us went after the horses. We woke to find them slaughtered in the barn. The soldiers guarding them, more than a half dozen, left in pieces.”

“And yet you arrived on a horse?” Lomar pointed out.

“By chance. A mare running a fever had been housed separately in case she proved to be contagious. With only one steed left, and no birds, Khaal entrusted me with his messages explaining what happened and told me to bring them directly to you.”

“You said earlier everyone died. How would you know that if you left?” Kormac questioned, clenching his fists. His arms still tingled, and he wondered why but couldn’t exactly pull up his sleeves in the middle of an audience for a peek.

“I don’t know for sure.” Ioan’s lips turned down. “Khaal was supposed to have those remaining barricade themselves in the watchtower. He promised to light the signal every night at dusk. On my third night of travel, it failed to appear.”

Dire news if true. What could have killed an entire garrison of soldiers? And how could it have been unseen?

Kormac stared at Ioan before asking, “What do you think attacked them?”

“The puuka.” The fabled ghosts that lived in the land of mist beyond the mountains, not real, and yet some believed in their existence. Blame the stories passed down through generations, speaking of monsters and magic, neither of which existed.

Ioan’s reply led to Lomar blustering, “That is superstitious nonsense. Most likely either a stealthy invader or a wild animal.”

“Animals that can open locked doors without leaving a trace? Animals that can sneak up on a man and kill him without a single scream escaping?” Ioan became agitated.

“Probably asleep at their posts.” A denigrating reply from Lomar, but in his defense, those sent to the garrison were the weakest of the horde. The slovenly, the poorer fighters, the disgraced. A posting to the Risead Pass was the ultimate insult to a soldier as it meant they were deemed not good enough to defend the citadel or their borders.

“Who else have you told about this?” Kormac asked.

“No one, Warlord. I rode straight and hard here to give you the news.”

“Where are the other missives Khaal entrusted with you?”

The man dug in his tunic and pulled out a parchment, rolled and bound with wax. Kormac gripped it but didn’t open it to read. First, he had to deal with the soldier.

“Lomar, have Ioan escorted to a cell. One away from the others. He is to speak to no one.”

“You’re punishing me?” The man seemed shocked.

“As if I’m going to believe your wild tale without confirmation. Lomar is right. It is implausible that an entire garrison would be wiped out without a single sign of the enemy.”

“But it’s the truth,” Ioan exclaimed.

“Then you won’t mind sojourning in a cell while I verify it.” He glanced to Lomar. “Ensure no one is allowed near him. I don’t need him spreading rumors and panicking the populace.”

“As you command, Warlord.” Lomar stepped forward to grab Ioan by the arm.

Ioan didn’t go quietly. “You have to listen to me. There is a grave danger brewing in the Pass. My great-grandmother lived her whole life in Greenhead Valley only a day’s ride from the garrison and she used to tell stories of a monster that lurked within the caves of Andeir.”

“There are no caves and stories are just that, stories.” As a young man, Kormac’s father had taken him to their eastern mountain and shown him the Pass saying, “We don’t know why the oath insists we guard Risead Pass but our ancestors must have had their reason and so we honor their wishes.”

“What if it’s true? What if that’s why the garrison is there, to protect against monsters?” Ioan shouted as Lomar dragged him away.

“Then you failed, and you know what the punishment for that is.” There was no mercy for deserters.

“And you’ll fail too,” Ioan snapped. “It’s easy for you to judge. You weren’t there.”

Kormac’s lips pinched at the insult. Lomar took it even worse. He knocked the pommel of his sword against Ioan’s temple and the man collapsed.

“Mouthy coward,” the warlord’s second muttered.

“All the more reason to keep him separate. Make sure you tell no one,” Kormac advised unnecessarily.

“No shit,” Lomar muttered. “Imagine thinking ghosts and monsters are real.”

“They aren’t, but I’ll still want you to head out and make sense of the situation.”

“Aye, Warlord. I’ll leave for the garrison in the morning.”

“Excellent.”

Lomar left with a limp Ioan slung over his shoulder. Once the door shut, the odd sensation in his arms disappeared. Kormac still pulled up his sleeve but there was nothing to see. Just the dull metal of his bracers, intricate in appearance, inherited from the last warlord, their version of a crown.

He pushed the fabric back over his arms before opening the first missive Khaal supposedly meant to send. It held a brief recap of what Ioan told him.

Warlord. This is Lieutenant Khaal of Risead Pass informing you we’ve lost some soldiers in the line of duty. I’ve included the names so you can compensate the families. Most likely a maakath is to blame. They’ve been nosing around the garrison of late instead of staying in the mountains. I’ve assembled a hunting team. Expect some skins if successful.

Maakath fur made great winter cloaks.

The first note seemed normal, advising him of the deaths so the families could be notified. The second, though, seemed as if written by a different person. Khaal’s usually tight and concise writing, a shaky scrawl. It began with an apology.

Sorry Warlord, I have failed you. The garrison is just about lost to an enemy we cannot detect. If you receive this, then Ioan will have told you of the deaths. Or should I say, the slaughtering of the soldiers in my care. I should have sent you notice with the first kill, but I thought I could handle it. Whatever hunts us is wily. It leaves no trace. No tracks. It can enter rooms with closed doors. Awake or asleep, it does not seem to matter. We have locked ourselves in the tower and will take turns keeping watch. I still have hope we can stop whatever is killing us. If we fail, tell my family I love them.

There had to be an explanation. Something that vicious and wily didn’t suddenly start murdering. Whatever the case, Lomar would sniff it out and when they found out who dared to attack Srayth, he’d bring the horde down on their head and make them regret ever being born.

Chapter 2

Dinner time passed normally, the snippets of conversation Kormac overheard—and those Lomar spied upon—made no mention of the soldier from the Pass. Despite the flirting from several of the women in attendance, Kormac was not in the mood for company and ended up going to bed alone.

Perturbed by the day’s events, he found himself wondering what could have happened to the garrison. If Ioan could be believed, then it seemed unlikely a wild animal had killed all those soldiers. So what did that leave?

Most likely a new enemy. Many envied his territory, rich in metals mined in their numerous mountains, and an exporter of the best horses in the world. But it had been more than two decades since anyone last raided one of the outer villages in the north. While some tried to sneak in via the northern bluffs hundreds of feet above an angry sea, most vessels sank before any managed the long climb. Those that did attempt the treacherous ascent were easily picked off by Sraythians who guarded their northern coast.

To the south, Srayth’s relationship with Ulkruuba had been good for more than a century and their trading strong.

West lay Acca, the land of the supposed witches who’d spent centuries keeping to themselves, most likely because their kind were executed until recently, as Srayth took a hard line against charlatans who pretended to do magic.

That left the east, past the Andeir mountains, which he would have thought impossible. The mists beyond that range were known to swallow people and never spit them out.

No likely scenarios. Still, a complacent warlord wasn’t a long-lived one.

Given the decimation of the force watching the Pass, he’d have to replenish the garrison, perhaps with a better cadre of soldiers, until they’d assessed the threat.

The severity of the situation meant Lomar would be taking some soldiers with him. Perhaps Kormac would visit as well. It had been a while since he’d been to the Pass. His duties kept him tied to the citadel more than he liked. He missed the freedom of being his father’s heir and second, riding out to inspect garrisons, quelling disputes, conducting drills close to the border to remind their flanking neighbors not to tangle with them.

The more he thought of it, the more a trip sounded like a fine plan. His mother would most likely argue. His father, who’d retired from the warlord position, would understand, though. Sometimes a leader had to act in person instead of via an intermediary.

With that decided, Kormac fell asleep, a dreamless state that should have taken him to morning, only he woke suddenly. That never happened without reason.

He noticed the tingling in his arms had returned. Could that have been what woke him?

A still Kormac pretended sleep, keeping his breathing even, and listened, not just with his ears but with instincts honed by years of his father’s lessons, some of which included nighttime attacks. Nothing like being suddenly roused in the night at a tender age and expected to fight off a man twice his size. But his father never did anything without reason, and those lessons paid off.

Move. Now!

He rolled almost too late. The dagger swiped down and plunged into the pillow where the indent of his head still showed in the strange purple glow emanating from his bracers. Odd, they’d never illuminated before. But forget his ornamental armor. An assassin, how exciting. It had been ages since anyone tried to kill him in person.

Kormac bounded out of bed, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade he slept with. Without pause, he swung.

There was no sound as his sword slashed the assassin across the torso, a killing blow, the only kind anyone should ever use in a fight. His father always said, “Dead men can’t stab you in the back.” Good advice, except for the part where they couldn’t answer questions after.

As the figure slumped to the floor, Kormac leaned over and struck the flint attached to the lantern kept by his bedside. The oil within ignited, illuminating the glass. He saw the identity of the assassin: none other than the garrison soldier, a man who should have still been locked in a cell. Someone must have released Ioan since those cells were escape-proof. In the decades they’d been using them, no one had ever broken free, meaning the citadel had a traitor. Kormac would enjoy seeking them out and making an example of them.

He wiped his blade on the body and readied to call someone to remove it when the limbs twitched.

Probably death throes. It happened sometimes. What didn’t usually occur with corpses? The mouth opening to whisper, “This is not the end, descendent of Airiok the Destroyer.”

The sibilant words almost brought a shiver because dead men didn’t talk, and Ioan was most certainly deceased. Between the gaping wound across the torso that exposed the guts, and the copious bleeding that left a huge puddle around the body, there should have been no way Ioan could speak.

Tell that to the dead man whose lips remained parted but didn’t move as it murmured in a raspy voice, “You cannot kill me. My imprisonment is about to end. My spirit set free—”

Smash. The pommel of his sword crushed the skull and silenced the eerie voice. A chill breeze swept past him, bringing goose pimples to his flesh before warmth returned. The bracers on his arms also stopped tingling and glowing.

Hmm. Could they be linked? His bracers had never reacted in such a fashion before. Nor had his father ever mentioned it when he passed them on along with the warlord title. It should be noted, his father had only done so after Kormac proved himself worthy, fighting in the competitions that helped them choose their strongest leader. It just so happened he, like his father and his father before him, was the worthiest. Some claimed Kormac’s family inherited their strength from their ancient ancestor, Airiok, a man who’d supposedly fought monsters and vanquished a great evil. Or so the storytellers told the children. Strange how the dead man had spoken his name.

Kormac stared at the body, which now lay unmoving and unspeaking, but he didn’t trust it and sliced off its head for good measure.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The pounding at his door led to him bark, “Come in.”

A grim Lomar burst into his room, sword out, exclaiming, “The prisoner escaped.”

Kormac nudged the body with his foot. “I found him.”

“Son of a whore,” Lomar swore. “He came after you?”

“With a knife, and he might have killed me, too, if I’d not woken.”

“I wonder if assassination was his intent all along.” Lomar scowled but not as mightily as Kormac.

“Someone let him loose. I want them found.”

“It’s hard to imagine anyone helped him,” Lomar stated with a shake of his head. “The guard who had the key to the cell is dead. I found him in the cell after Melody woke me in hysterics.”

“Melody?” Kormac questioned.

“Kitchen maid. She was bringing the night guards their meal and came across the carnage. It seems Ioan left a string of bodies on his way out of the dungeon. Every single guard in Ioan’s path is dead.”

“All of them?” Kormac couldn’t help his surprise. Ioan hadn’t seemed like the most adept of fighters.

“Yeah. Hence why Melody came screeching to find me. The moment I saw what happened, I came to find you.”

Kormac debated mentioning the voice but decided to keep that information to himself. Dead men didn’t talk.

“Given what the traitor attempted, I’m now more curious than ever as to what really happened at the garrison.” Kormac headed for his wardrobe to change from his nightclothes.

“You think Ioan lied?”

“I think the traitor found a convenient excuse to get inside the citadel.” Already bare-chested, Kormac slid on a shirt, the sleeve catching on the bracers wrapped around his forearms. While ornamental in appearance, they also offered protection when used to block a blow and apparently now occasionally glowed. Why? What about Ioan triggered them?

“I can leave now instead of dawn,” Lomar offered.

“Dawn is soon enough since I’m coming with you,” Kormac stated, ditching his breechcloth for britches.

“Is that wise? We don’t know what we’ll find.”

“Which is why we’ll bring a battalion with us. I want fifty men ready to go by first light.”

They actually set out earlier, the selected soldiers eager to ride, especially since they might get a chance to fight. Peaceful times led to bored soldiers.

Kormac led the battalion with Lomar keeping watch at the rear as they galloped on their war horses, fully outfitted in battle gear. Everyone came armed to the teeth: swords, daggers, bows, axes. Better to be prepared than caught off guard.

It took them several days of hard riding before they came in sight of the mountain named Andeir that stretched as far as the eye could see, impassable due to its height and sheerness but for a single pass. The fort sat on a gravel road a few hundred yards from the passage through the high peaks, the building made of stone blocks, sturdy and old. Very old. Also, highly defensible with only narrow window slits, perfect for firing arrows. A single massive gate at the front led inside to a courtyard and even if someone breached that, the fort itself had a portcullis that could be dropped over its entrance, making it virtually impenetrable. The walls had a slight lean outward, making them difficult to scale. From the base of the path going up, they could see the peaked roof of the watchtower which faced the Pass.

“Leave the horses here,” Kormac ordered, not liking the treacherous look of the road slicked with ice.

Five men were left behind to watch their steeds. The rest of the battalion, led by Lomar and Kormac, set out on foot. The mid-afternoon sun provided a bit of warmth, and yet they’d neither seen nor heard any signs of wildlife. No scampering squirrels or birds. Not even a breeze to rustle the branches. The eerie stillness had them all on edge, the soldiers finding reassurance in gripping their weapons.

Kormac, though, pursed his lips as he glanced around. No sign of anyone or anything.

As they plodded slowly up the road to the gate, Lomar pointed to the ground. The light dusting of snow was undisturbed. “No tracks,” he remarked.

“If it fell overnight that’s not surprising,” Kormac murmured. As they neared the garrison, he noticed the lack of soldiers manning the ramparts. Heard not a single challenge to their approach. To his disquiet, the gate had been left slightly ajar.

Before Kormac could say or do anything, Lomar bolted past, axe in hand. His second wasn’t about to let his warlord walk into an ambush. At least that would be his claim. More likely he wanted first shot at any threat.

Kormac followed more cautiously. His tread crunched in the snow that had crystalized in the sun.

“Seems deserted,” a disappointed Lomar stated as he reappeared.

“Could be they’re hiding.” A glance at the parapet didn’t show any arrow tips or movement but that didn’t mean no one watched. His nape prickled in warning.

“I’ll grab some men and do a sweep,” Lomar stated.

“Take half. I want the rest to do a perimeter sweep,” Kormac commanded as he strode through the gate.

The stench of death hit him immediately and he glanced at Lomar. “When you said deserted…”

“I meant I found no signs of anyone living.” Lomar pointed. “The smell appears to be coming from the stable which would match Ioan’s claim the horses were slaughtered.”

“And left to rot?” Kormac’s brow rose.

“So it seems.”

“Disrespectful,” Kormac grumbled. His people had long valued the stallions and mares that they caught running in the wild and tamed. They were their greatest pride—and their most expensive export. To have them not only slaughtered but then left to rot? Khaal had much to answer for.

Kormac strode into the barn and the smell turned his stomach. Not that he gagged. A warlord couldn’t show weakness.

He glanced inside the stalls to see the remains of the once fine steeds lying where they’d died, their flesh ribboned. Why hadn’t Khaal had them removed?

The courtyard held no bodies. Neither did the main chamber once he entered the fort. The long tables, flanked by benches, held dishes, the food on them moldy. Further investigation resulted in them finding some bodies in the barracks, the soldiers murdered in their beds, the blood long dried, the bodies rigid.

Kormac’s lips tightened at the sight.

Lomar leaned close to murmur, “Think Ioan did this?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Ioan hadn’t seemed strong enough to be able to cause such carnage, but he only had to remember the dungeon to wonder if they’d underestimated the man.

Kormac pointed to some of his soldiers. “Clear the dead.” By clear he meant remove and burn. In his culture, they didn’t bury those who passed. Burying trapped the soul. Only fire could release it from its fleshy prison. The morning they’d left, Ioan’s body had been put on a pyre—a small one made up of trash and not the fine wood used for the soldiers—because even a traitor didn’t deserve to slowly decay.

“Only one place left to check,” Lomar murmured.

The watchtower where Ioan claimed Khaal had barricaded those who’d survived. He didn’t hold much hope for those men, not with the deep silence they’d encountered thus far.

The watchtower sat at the rear of the garrison, facing the pass it guarded. It went a full two stories higher than the fort and had a large window-like opening at the top where not only could someone watch, but a fire could be burned to provide a signal. At least, that was the original intent. The watchtower three days ride away that would have seen it had collapsed during a tremor more than thirty years ago and never been rebuilt. Why bother when they had the birds to communicate? In retrospect, not too smart since whatever enemy they dealt with had eradicated them early on. If not for Ioan, it might have been months before they noticed a problem with the garrison.

The door at the base of the tower, the only entrance, appeared barricaded from the inside. The exterior of the portal was untouched, no scratches on its surface, also no reply to their pounding.

Kormac glanced at Lomar with his massive axe. “Take it down.”

“If I must.” Lomar grimaced. “My poor blade.” He complained but he swung.

Thunk, thunk. His strong strokes splintered the seasoned wood. The thick panel took some time to penetrate and the moment Lomar created a small hole, they could smell it.

Death.

COLLAPSE
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Soul Reaper

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Book Cover: Soul Reaper
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Part of the Scythe & Souls series:
  • Reaping Demons
  • Reaper Witch
  • Soul Reaper
  • Scythe & Souls Collection (Books One to Three)

Being a hero would be a lot easier with an instruction manual.

A hero’s work is never done! I’m the guild’s only reaper witch and it’s my job to save humanity. After a few hiccups, I rose to the challenge and expelled the demon king from Earth, however, Moloch’s time in exile allowed another demon prince to rise in ranks. Not good since this self-proclaimed Emperor of Inferis is planning an invasion.

While I’ve managed to finally hone my magic and no longer suck at physical combat, there’s still much to do. Seducing two sexy reapers is at the top of that list, but I also need to pay a debt to a mysterious voice.

Finding a body for the portal entity to inhabit might have to take a backburner, though, given everything else going on. The new demonic Emperor isn’t just looking to rule Earth, it’s got an interest in me, I just can’t figure out why. Perhaps it’s time to put down the training scythe, hit the books, and learn the origin of my power.

The truth ends up being even worse than expected and I might have to do the unthinkable to save everyone I love. I only hope I don’t lose my soul in the process.

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Published: 2024-07-25
Cover Artists:
Joolz & Jarling
Genres:
dark humor, magic and sorcery, Menage/Polyamory, older heroine, Paranormal Romance, reaper romance, Urban Fantasy, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter 1

Don’t let them see me. I held my breath in case it could be heard. Invisibility only hid my physical presence. It couldn’t conceal any noise I made.

Magic swirled in a layer around me as I stepped quietly past those watching. They never even noticed. Suckers. I’d gotten better at evading them.

In the month since I’d banished Moloch to Inferis, I’d finally begun to figure out my powers. I had to. I couldn’t ignore the missive I’d received from the so-called emperor promising we’d meet. Wouldn’t it figure that as soon as I rid Earth of one menace another popped into its place?

With that threat hanging over my head, I’d been practicing my magic daily, first figuring out how to call on it without the need for emotional turmoil. Where once I required rage or another strong emotion to adrenalize my power, I now could use my ability simply by concentrating.

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Unlike the other witches, I didn’t require special words or gestures. I only had to think to shape my magic. Think, for example, of being invisible and I could step past Cain and Vance who stood guard at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me to appear.

Some might wonder why I tried to avoid the two men I wanted in my bed. Simple. They wanted me to choose, but I refused. I liked them both. Wanted them both. And I’d made it clear that nothing else would do. After all, polyamory had become a thing in recent years—and the books made it sound so yummy.

Being men built on pride—and victims of jealousy—they refused. They demanded I choose one or the other. I held firm, even as I teased them, which in turn tortured me. Stolen kisses and flirty winks didn’t ease the ache between my legs.

You know what did feel good? Besting them, sneaking past the most gifted hunters the reaper guild had to offer.

As I moved away, with them none the wiser, my step quickened only to halt abruptly as Nova suddenly stepped out of her office and in my way.

“Screwing with your bodyguards again?” she remarked, seeing through my illusion.

No matter how hard I tried, she could always spot me because of the magic I used. I let it dissipate and heard the barks of surprise at my back as my protectors noticed I’d managed to slip past.

“Just honing my skills,” I stated primly.

“How about putting them to practical use?” Nova inquired.

“What’s up?” The last month had been quiet. With Moloch gone, the demons crossing over from Inferis to Earth had slowed to a mere trickle. Everyone assumed the biggest threat was over, but I knew better.

I’d told Nova about the note, a note that disintegrated in my hand after I read it, leaving me with no evidence. She asked me if perhaps I’d dreamt it because I worried about Moloch’s return.

Nope, I knew he was dead. Just like I knew the biggest challenge was to come. And I wasn’t entirely sure it was this Emperor of Inferis. I’d yet to fulfill my promise to the entity that lived in the nothing space accessed by the portals that allowed us to travel between one place and another almost instantly. A voice no one else heard and yet talked to me every time I stepped into that between space. To save the world, I’d made a bargain with the entity. A body in exchange for its aid in banishing Moloch.

Sounded easy? Not really. I’d tried to give the disembodied voice a criminal. A human with an arrest sheet a mile long, someone no one would miss.

The voice rejected it soundly with a rebuke. Do you insult me, messovenata?

Guess I couldn’t blame it. If I had to be reincarnated, I’d want something better than a piece of shit.

What do you want exactly? I’d tried to get clarification.

Someone special.

Not exactly clear instructions.

I couldn’t condemn anyone I knew in the reapers’ guild or witchy sisterhood. Handing over someone important on Earth, like a president or royalty, also seemed kind of dangerous. Did I want to put this entity in a position of power? Not really. Who knew its intentions?

I’d offered it a demon I captured. Also rejected.

A vampire with a handsome mien and wealth who’d been preying on humans led to me being told, I want a form where I can walk in the sun.

Who knew spirits with no bodies could be so picky!

A month later, and I struggled to find someone that would appease the voice. It didn’t help it was growing impatient.

“We lost another person to the portal,” Nova stated softly as I followed her into her office.

“Shit.” Not much else to say. The Regina, the leader of the witches, knew of my bargain, and while not happy about it claimed she understood why I’d had to make it. At the time, trading one life to save billions seemed fair.

“I know you’re having issues finding what it wants,” she added.

“Wouldn’t you?” I retorted. “I’m essentially killing someone by handing them over.”

“But now people are dying because you’re hesitating.”

“Are they dead?” I countered. “I mean, maybe the voice is just stashing them somewhere to use as hostages.”

“Do you really believe that?”

My shoulders slumped. “No.”

“For the moment, we’ve put out word to not use the talismans.” The talismans were what we used to activate those shortcut doorways.

“Hold on, if you do that, then we’ll be stuck.” Our castle—and main headquarters—was situated in the Rockies, in a valley impossible to reach without a helicopter or extreme multi-day hiking.

“We cannot take the chance the entity will take another reaper.”

We’d lost three in the last week. No one I knew, but it would only be a matter of time before I did, seeing as how I’d started training with some of the reapers because, as Cain stated, You might not always be able to rely on magic.

A knock at the door led to Nova barking, “Come in.”

Asher entered, looking peeved. “We lost another.”

“I’m aware,” was Nova’s low reply. “I was just talking to Sadie about it.”

Asher whirled to fix me with his vivid blue eyes. He was a man in his late fifties. With his muscles and vitality, he could have passed for much younger despite his salt and pepper hair. “You need to give it what it wants.”

“I’ve been trying,” I hotly exclaimed. “It’s rejected every single person I’ve offered.”

“Have you asked it why?” Asher drawled.

“It doesn’t want anyone ordinary.”

“Meaning what?” he blurted.

“If I knew we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” was my sharp retort.

“I want it to stop taking my men.”

“So do I. If you have any volunteers who don’t mind giving up their bodies, then feel free to send them my way,” I snapped. While I might be responsible for making the bargain, it didn’t feel fair to get blamed for the entity’s pickiness. Had Asher forgotten that my deal saved the world?

“I am not giving it any more of my men. Fix this,” he barked before stalking out.

I glanced at Nova who shrugged. “The one we just lost was his nephew.”

“Oh. Fuck.” It explained his anger. I rubbed my forehead. “Guess I should go have a talk to the voice.” A voice who’d almost told me its name once, but since then had been playing coy.

“Be careful, Sadie. We can’t afford to lose you.”

Sounded caring, but I knew the truth. They didn’t want to lose the messovenata, the only person who could touch both the male and female side of magic. It meant I could cast spells like a witch, but like a reaper male, I could also see through the demons’ fog-like camouflage.

Unlike most of the others in the guild, I hadn’t come into my powers until late in life. Forty-two, to be exact. The saying about old dogs and new tricks? Not entirely true. This bitch was learning, but that didn’t make up for the decades of practice the others had.

I emerged from Nova’s office and just about ran into Cain’s chest. A wide chest, I should add, encased in a form-fitting navy-blue t-shirt tucked into snug jeans. Very yummy.

“Don’t you dare turn invisible,” he warned.

“Or what? It’s not like you can find me.” I might have smirked.

He offered me a predictable scowl. “Not funny. We’re supposed to be protecting you.”

“From what? The demons have been routed. Moloch is gone. The castle is overrun with reapers and witches, and I am no longer useless.” I held up my hand and a ball of crackling fire hovered over my palm. Cocky, but it proved a point.

“A bullet to the head will still kill you,” was his harsh rebuttal.

I snorted. “Yup, it will, and having you beside me when it happens will do exactly squat to stop it.” I began walking toward the main entrance.

“Now where are you going?” he huffed.

“To talk to a certain disembodied spirit.”

“You’re going back into the portal?”

“Yup.”

“Did Nova not tell you we lost someone this morning?”

“She did.” I walked out of the castle into bright sunshine and squinted.

“Doesn’t seem like a good idea to throw yourself in there,” he insisted, having followed me.

“Don’t have much choice. We can’t keep losing people.”

“We won’t lose them if we stop using the talismans.” Cain had a simple solution and for once it didn’t involve killing the problem.

“Without the talismans how would we do our job?” I whirled to ask. “We can’t have reapers in every single city and town. Part of the reason why the guild works well against demons is because we have the ability to move the reapers to where they’re needed quickly.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time we found another way.”

“I’m all ears. Pray tell, what other way is there?” I crossed my arms and arched a brow.

“Now you sound like the princep.” Asher’s title as leader of the reapers.

“Because he’s right. We need the talismans to work to do our job and for that to happen, I have to give the voice what it wants.”

“What if it wants you?”

I blinked at him. “Wouldn’t it have specified that at the time of the bargain?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Well, it’s not getting me.” As if I’d sacrifice myself. I might be a hero now, with more courage than I knew what to do with, but that didn’t mean I had a death wish.

Still, Cain planted a seed, so the first thing I did once I entered that cold nothing place that allowed us to travel was to mentally query, Do you want my body?

Chapter 2

For most people, traversing a portal lasted less than a second.

I wasn’t most people. For me, it resembled more entering a vacuum of space. Nothing to see, just endless dark. Not a hint of light. Nor sound. Just extreme cold.

And the voice.

It didn’t so much speak aloud as make itself heard.

Hello, Sadie.

Don’t you “hello” me. You killed another reaper! Being confrontational might not have been my best choice, however, the pressure coming at me, not to mention the guilt, had me irate.

I killed no one.

Then where are the reapers? Three of them entered but haven’t been seen since.

Our talismans worked by either bringing us to the anchor it had been paired with—for example the dais in the woods near the castle—or to a location we visualized. Reapers had been using them for centuries to get around the world.

I took the travelers to where they wanted to be.

No, you didn’t, because they’re missing.

Not missing. Simply not where you expected.

Don’t play games with me. Where the fuck are they?

The one named Tom wished to see the home where he’d been born.

That didn’t sound too bad, but it didn’t explain why Tom hadn’t contacted the guild. Given the voice didn’t elaborate, I asked, Was there something wrong with Tom’s home?

The place he visualized last existed thirty-four years ago.

Wait, are you saying you sent him back in time?

It was what he wished for.

And what, he stayed there?

I know not what he did after his arrival.

A non-answer which led to me demanding, What about the other two?

Lou wondered if it was possible to visit Mars and Marcus kept thinking about a sunken city recently discovered and wondering how it appeared when freshly constructed.

It took me a second to reply. You sent someone to Mars?

Yes. It was his desire.

Humans can’t survive on Mars.

He knows that now.

Oh fuck. While I didn’t get a hint of maliciousness in the reply, I couldn’t help but rebuke. That wasn’t very nice of you. You know full well those weren’t the places they meant to visit, not to mention they would be deadly.

Then it shouldn’t have been their most prevalent thought. I simply gave them what they desired. Unlike you, who made a promise and hasn’t kept it.

Don’t you get snotty with me, I mentally huffed. I’ve brought you several suitable bodies. Bodies, not people, because I didn’t like to think of the fact I’d condemned them.

None of which proved suitable.

Maybe you should be more specific about what you need then because I don’t want to sacrifice anyone else for nothing.

They must have some magic.

So a witch? The very thought repugned. I knew them all personally as witches didn’t number many in the world given when their magic awoke they attracted demons. Most didn’t survive that encounter.

Not just any witch. It would have to be a powerful one.

What about a reaper?

Same.

If magic is a prerequisite, then why not use the demon I brought?

Bringing me the lowest of the minions from Inferis? That was insulting. I could practically feel the disdain.

What if I captured a demon wizard?

I would prefer a form more suited for blending in with the human populace as I’ve chosen your world as the one most likely to please me.

The thought of a powerful entity roaming Earth didn’t sit well with me, but I knew better than to say anything about my trepidation. Instead, I poked for different info.

Why won’t you tell me your name?

Because it isn’t important. I haven’t been that person in a long time.

How did you get trapped in here?

I trusted poorly.

Betrayed. That sucked, but I had to wonder if the person doing the betraying had their reasons. I’m going to try and find you a suitable body, but in the meantime, no more disappearing reapers!

I don’t understand your anger. I simply gave them what they wished for.

What they wished for wasn’t to be taken from their life in this time to another or to a place that would kill them on arrival.

Very well. I shall ignore their desires. Apparently, a disembodied voice could sound salty.

Any way of returning them?

They would have to enter a portal for me to do so.

Wait, you mean none of them have tried to come back?

If they had, I would have delivered them. That is the only thing I have to do in here.

It led to me asking one more question. If you’re the one directing folks who use the talismans, then how did the whole portal thing work before you were trapped?

Not very well. Only the most savvy and powerful could find their way.

How come you keep letting demons through doorways from Inferis to Earth?

Those are not magical openings such as your kind use, but rather rips between the dimensions.

What causes the rips?

The connection that exists between your world and theirs.

Can we sever that connection?

Not without much death.

It occurred to me it had yet to answer my initial question. Are you holding out for my body?

While yours would be ideal, it is understandable you wouldn’t want me to use it. Although, I should mention, your spirit wouldn’t be lost, merely enhanced by my own.

No thanks.

Then you need to find me someone suitable.

Working on it. It would help if I understood you better. It might give me some ideas on suitability. Like guy or gal? Any specific age?

When I lived, I wore a female form not much younger than you.

Were you human?

In appearance, yes, but I wasn’t from Earth.

Where are you from originally?

So many questions about things long past. Things no longer important.

If you say so. I should return to the castle now. But before I go, another reminder: no more sending reapers to the wrong place.

Then tell them to be clearer about their intentions, came the huffy reply before I found myself thrust back into the world.

I blinked at the twilight, a surprising thing to see given I’d entered early afternoon in full sunshine. A grim-looking Cain stood with his arms crossed, waiting.

“Have you been standing here this entire time?” I asked as I headed for the house.

“Yes, although, I didn’t expect you to be gone for hours,” he growled.

“Neither did I. It only felt like minutes to me.” I never knew the portal could play with time. I wondered if Nova was aware.

“Did you find the missing reapers?”

His question brought a grimace that twisted my lips. “I’m afraid I don’t have good news on that front. Apparently, the reapers entered and rather than focus on their destinations, started thinking of other locations. The portal brought them to those places instead.”

“So they’re alive.” He sounded so relieved, I hated to break the bad news.

“No, one of them is dead. The other two…” I paused before saying, “Back in time.”

He stared at me. “Time travel isn’t possible.”

“Apparently, it is.” I rubbed my forehead. “Where’s Asher? He and Nova need to hear about this.”

“Head to her office and I’ll have someone fetch them.”

I entered the castle but first diverted to the kitchen where the brownies scampered around, cleaning the dishes while chirping to each other. They could speak English, but they also had their own language.

Upon seeing me, Isadora, a petite brownie with her hair in braids, paused in her refilling of a saltshaker. “Messovenata, what can I fetch for you?” No matter how many times I told her to call me Sadie she insisted on using the honorific.

“Something to drink and a snack. I kind of missed dinner.” My stomach grumbled about it.

“A moment, please.” Isadora stuck two tiny fingers in her mouth and blew. The piercing noise cut through the din and as she chattered, a few other brownies leaped into action. In short order, I had a plate piled with leftover meat from dinner, cheese, and fresh-cut fruit. To drink, an insulated bottle filled with watermelon-infused water.

“Thank you.” I pulled a Tootsie Roll from my pocket and held it out. “Bought you a treat.” The castle didn’t keep junk food stocked as Nova and Asher believed in feeding the witches and reapers wholesome meals, meaning nothing prepackaged. But the brownies loved their sweets so I kept a stash to give them.

Isadora beamed. “The messovenata is generous.”

“More like you’re awesome and deserve it. Thanks, Isa.”

I left with my drink and plate of food, heading for Nova’s office. The door was flanked by a scowling Cain and a slightly amused Vance.

“I told you to wait in her office,” Cain grumbled.

I held up my plate. “I was hungry. Are they inside?”

In response, Cain flung open the door. Nova and Asher both eyed me the moment I entered. Asher looked hopeful. I hated to dash it.

“So I spoke to the voice in the portal,” I said as I took a seat and balanced my plate on my knees.

“And, what happened to Tom?” growled Asher.

“Tom might still be alive, but about thirty-some years older.”

My statement had them both blinking.

I took a bite of cheese and explained. “It would appear the reapers are giving out conflicting destinations when they’re travelling. Tom, for example, wanted to see his childhood home, and so the voice took him to it.” I paused. “In the past.”

“Impossible,” Asher barked, however, Nova looked more pensive.

“I assume the voice told you this,” she said.

“Yes. It also said that Marcus wanted some ancient city before it got submerged placing him centuries in the past. As for Lou, he was thinking of Mars.” I didn’t add the obvious outcome.

Nova winced as Asher exploded. “It fucking killed them!”

“Yes.” No sugar coating it. I did however add, “It claims it did as the reapers wanted.”

“They wanted to live,” Asher growled.

“Obviously. But at the same time, the portal works by depositing travelers to the destination they’re picturing. If they’re visualizing the wrong place—”

“Then the attendant of the void that we didn’t know about until you came along is simply obeying their wish,” Nova murmured, taking over my statement.

“It is, but at the same time, it knew that wasn’t where they meant to go. So I gave it shit and told it to knock it off.”

My claim led to Asher snorting. “And if it doesn’t? This thing obviously doesn’t give a shit it killed my men.”

“No, it doesn’t, but it does care about the fact I’ve yet to keep my bargain with it.”

“So, what? It’s punishing my reapers because you haven’t given it a body?”

“It didn’t come out and say so, but given its actions…” I shrugged. “Seems likely.”

“Has it given you any kind of direction as to what it wants in a physical form?” Nova queried.

“Yeah. It requested someone with magic. But not a demon.”

“It wants a witch,” she murmured.

“Or a reaper.”

“Like fuck,” Asher exclaimed. “I am not handing over any more of my men to this fucking voice.”

Nova didn’t have the same reaction. “I have to wonder why it doesn’t just take a suitable body when we pass through.”

I frowned. “That’s a good question. I don’t know why. I mean, we’re at her mercy in there.”

“Her?” Nova caught my word usage.

“I did manage to get the voice to tell me it used to be female, human in shape but not from Earth.”

“Really?” Nova’s brows rose with interest. “Anything else it admitted? You were gone a long while.”

“Nothing else of interest. While I might have been gone hours, the conversation itself only lasted a few minutes.”

“Don’t care.” Asher slashed a hand. “The portal is no longer safe. We need to find another way to move reapers around.”

“The portal should be safe to use, but you need to hammer into their heads the fact they have to think—and I mean really fixate—about where they actually want to go. No wondering about the high school they used to attend or reflecting on other planets or places that no longer exist,” I stated.

“Are you blaming my men for their demise?” Asher looked ready to throttle me, which said a lot given he usually had a calm demeanor.

“No. We both know the voice took liberties with their final destinations. But, knowing that, we can educate the reapers so that we hopefully avoid more incidents.”

“This is bullshit,” snarled Asher as he left the office.

Nova sighed as the door slammed shut. “He’d hoped for better news.”

“So did I.” Despite the tense conversation, I couldn’t help but nibble on my food. “The voice did say something interesting. It claims that before it lived inside the cold place that travelling via portals used to be fraught with danger. That only the most focused made it from point A to B.”

“That would match up with some of the older texts that cautioned their use.”

“I also asked it why it kept letting the demons into our world and it claimed that they were using rips between our dimensions. And that to get rid of those tears would decimate a whole bunch of people.”

Nova’s brow knit as she pondered. “I wonder what it meant by that.”

My shoulders rolled. “No idea. Getting clear answers from the voice isn’t easy.”

“Thank you for trying, though.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m the reason the voice is getting pissy. What am I supposed to do? I can’t just hand over a witch.” My lips turned down.

“We’ll find a solution.”

Nova sounded confident. If only it would rub off on me.

COLLAPSE
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Earth’s Magic : Collection One (Books 1-3)

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Part of the Earth's Magic series:
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection One (Books 1-3)
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
  • Earth’s Daughter
  • Earth’s Lair
  • Earth’s Elf
  • Earth’s Paladin
  • Earth’s Secret
  • Earth’s Triangle

Magical cupcakes, an adorable goat and evil gingerbread. All that and more in this paranormal romance bundle sure to make you smile.
The Earth’s Magic Collection One contains previously released titles:
•    Earth’s Daughter ~ When a necromancer starts wreaking havoc in town, Mindy’s magical cupcakes can’t keep up with demand. To combat the zombies, she teams up with Reiver, a mysterious and sexy hunter.
•    Earth’s Lair ~ When Annie find’s a secret door on her property, she’s determined to see what’s on the other side. However, her past has returned in a pair of sexy jeans, and now she has to fight not only her strange dreams, but an urge to give him a second chance.
•    Earth’s Elf  ~ Krampus has escaped and it’s up to Leif, the oversized elf, to capture him before he ruins Christmas. Bella, a woman connected to the holiday mess, doesn’t just bravely fend off an attack by gingerbread, she also knows how to jangle to his bells.
Lighthearted, paranormal fun in a world where anything can exist, and love always prevails.

Published: 2023-11-13
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
Holiday Romance, magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Shapeshifter Romance, werewolf romance, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
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Gentleman and the Witch

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Part of the The Grae Sisters series:
  • The Grae Sisters (Books 1 – 3)
  • Warden and the Assassin
  • Professor and the Seer
  • Gentleman and the Witch

He promised me immortality, but first I must survive a dangerous quest.

Becoming a witch at sixteen started me on my path to greatness. A little hex here. A little spell there. My foes never knew what hit them. That magic became lucrative later on when I started my own business, but surely I am destined to do more than make skincare products for those trying to hold on to their youth.

When a gentleman who claims he used to be a god demands my help, I laugh him off. As if I’m going to put myself in harm’s way for him. However, when my home is destroyed, I decide to join him on his quest for revenge. After all, it turns out we have a common enemy.

What I didn’t expect? To end up fighting for my life on another world. Nor did I think I’d fall in love.

An affair short-lived.

Evildoers might want to use me to advance their cause, but they might end up surprised because I’m not a good witch. I will do anything, even end the world, to avenge those I love.

 

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Published: 2024-06-06
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
dark humor, Fantasy Romance, god romance, killer hero, killer heroine, magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

***May contain spoilers.

Chapter One

The phone rang, and given I had caller ID, I answered, “What do you want, French fry? Shouldn’t you be banging your new husband right about now?”

Frieda, my sister—who hated the nickname French fry—had chosen to take up residence in Britain, of all places, putting her about six hours ahead.

“One, we make love. Two, it’s only nine o’clock. And three, you might want to stay inside today.”

I glanced out the window to see sunny skies. “It’s a gorgeous day, and Jinx needs a walk.” Jinx being the love of my life, a temperamental Pomeranian who only loved me—which I was totally fine with.

“If you leave, you are going to become embroiled in something life-altering,” my sister warned.

READ MORE

“Really?” Well, that might be a nice change. Ever since I’d returned from my trip abroad, I’d been bored. More so than usual. What was the point of having inherited all kinds of magic only to have nowhere to use it?

“I see danger ahead for you,” Frieda added.

“Sweet.”

“You sound just like Enyo when I try to caution her about her choices,” Frieda complained.

My sister could see the future and often used it to nag us. You’d think after almost four decades of knowing each other, she’d have learned we didn’t like the easiest road. I wanted a challenge, whether it be in business or pleasure.

“Excuse me for craving some action.”

“That action might get you killed,” she grumbled.

“Now you’re talking. Is this the kind of danger I can blast to bits?” I’d been practicing my aim, seeing as how I’d recently had reason to invoke combat magic. I dared anyone to tell me it wasn’t awesome that I could shoot lightning from my fingertips.

“I swear, I don’t know why I bother.” Frieda sighed.

“Admit it, you called because you miss me.”

“Miss what? You bullying me to leave the apartment? Mocking my clothes? Telling me a dozen times a day to get laid?”

“You whine, and yet look at you now. Living in a different country, getting railed on a daily basis. The only thing you still need to work on is your wardrobe.” How I had a sister who thought it was okay to match flowered leggings with a striped shirt was beyond me.

“I see you’re going to be contrary, so I’m going to hang up now, but with just one more caution for you to ignore. Keep in mind that evil sorceresses who try to rule the world often end up dead.”

“Do you think I could be evil?” I asked, perusing myself in the mirror by my main door. I wore a cute jogging outfit—not that I jogged—in a light pink with “Juicy” spelled out in glittery letters across my butt.

“Aren’t you already?” was her sour reply.

My lips curved. “No, but I could be.”

“I don’t know why I bother. Bye. Oh, and say hi for me.”

Before I could ask “Say hi to who?” she’d severed the connection, but I didn’t mind. According to her, today was about to get interesting.

“Jinx!” I called my dog, who, of course, didn’t deign to reply. She really hated it when I treated her like a dog. Apparently, she thought herself above not only her own kind but humans too.

I found her in my bedroom, lying atop my pillow, shedding hair on it. Every night I changed the casing for it lest I choke on a strand. It had happened before, usually at three a.m.

My dog didn’t look at me, the human who dared interrupt her nap.

I crooned, “Does baby want to go for a walk?”

Boing. My dog sprang to her feet, her poufy body hiding her short legs. Her tail wagged frantically as she smiled. Yes, smiled. Jinx did love her walks.

“Let’s put a harness dress on. What do you think, polka dots or flowers today?” I had several drawers in the front hall dedicated to outfits for my dog, from adorable frothy dresses to a rubber-ducky-covered raincoat with matching booties. Jinx eschewed my suggestion of a very bright red halter dress with matching leash and chose instead a pink vest studded with rhinestones. Despite the sun, the fall weather had arrived with a sharp wind, so I wore a warm sherpa coat and ankle-high black boots. Like I said, I don’t jog.

We exited the apartment building to bright sunshine, my sudden squint making me wish I’d brought my sunglasses. I breathed in the fresh air of the outdoors, marred by the distinctive reek of cigar smoke. Rare nowadays, given most people had moved to vaping.

A glance showed a figure in a pea coat over slacks, with neatly coiffed hair and a freshly shaven jaw. The gentleman cut a rather elegant figure, though, and had to be new to the neighborhood since we’d never met. Yes, I was nosy enough to want to know who lived on my block. Annoying people were subtly encouraged to move, like that shrill priss who used to live across the street and thought she could lecture me on the joys of veganism. She crossed a line when she started in on my beloved Jinx, claiming some bullshit about pet ownership was akin to slavery and should be abolished. She even dared to unclip the leash and tell my dog to run free.

At the time, a less-than-impressed Jinx glanced at me, and I’d shrugged and said, “Your choice, baby.” Baby chose to chase the annoying twat before returning to me with a smirk. Slave my ass. If anyone held the upper hand in our relationship, it was my dog.

Given that neighbor didn’t learn her lesson and kept haranguing, a few minor spells led to her breaking her lease early. I wondered if it was the roaches or the food constantly rotting in her fridge that led to her snapping.

The gentleman standing at the bottom of my stoop smiled in my direction and my tummy fluttered. What a handsome specimen. He had a matching sexy, deep voice too. “Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?”

The weather. The inane conversation starter used by people around the world. “We don’t have many left before winter.”

“Indeed, we don’t, Ms. Grae.”

I stiffened. “Excuse me? How do you know my name? Who are you?” My suspicious side immediately wanted to know because this was obviously no chance encounter.

“Not going to guess?”

“I don’t play games.”

“No, you’re usually very direct. A commendable trait.”

“You speak as if you know me.”

“Because I do. You and I are closely linked.”

At that claim, I snorted. “What kind of lame line is that? I don’t know you.”

“True, and yet that doesn’t negate the fact you and I are bound. As are your sisters.”

The mention of my siblings had me narrowing my gaze. “Is this your way of saying you’re my daddy?” I eyed him up and down. “Damn, you must have been a toddler when you impregnated Mom.”

His brows rose. “I am not your father.”

“Is what Luke wishes Vader had said,” I mumbled.

“What? Who is this Luke?”

The way he spoke niggled at me. Like, who didn’t know the infamous Luke and that line from the movie? Somebody who’d not been exposed to any kind of media. Which was impossible if you lived anywhere on Earth these days, unless… “Are you going to keep playing word games, or are you going to tell me who you are?”

“Can’t you guess?”

I crossed my arms.

“I’m the god of monsters, but you may call me Typhon, seeing how you are going to help me retrieve my magic.”

I blinked at him then took my time sizing him up. Tall, well over six feet I realized. I stood on the stoop and still wasn’t eye-to-eye with him. Broad of shoulder, clean-shaven, impeccably dressed. Had to admit, he cleaned up nice. The last time I’d seen Typhon we were in Ariadne’s throne room, and he wore a billowing cloak that covered him head to toe, concealing his face.

“You don’t look like the god of monsters. Aren’t you supposed to have several heads?”

“I can take a monstrous shape if needed, but given humans are easily frightened, this form tends to cause fewer problems.”

I cocked my head. “How do I know you are who you say you are?”

He arched a brow. “Do you often have men introducing themselves as gods?”

“Yes,” I pertly replied. Then I added, “Usually, they’re claiming to be a god in the bedroom.”

“In my day, people didn’t pretend lest a true god smite them,” he grumbled.

“Welcome to the modern age.”

I went to step past him, and he growled. “Where are you going?”

“To walk my dog.” A dog who’d not barked at him, as she normally did with strangers. On the contrary, Jinx acted like a little lady, standing by my side, looking aloof and adorable.

“I’m not done speaking with you.”

“Then make an appointment. I’m busy.”

“I’d hardly call walking a mongrel busy.”

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know Jinx is a pure-bred Pomeranian. Her parents were show dogs. She’s got an impeccable pedigree.”

His lip curled. “She’s barely snack sized.”

“Talk about eating my dog one more time and I won’t be responsible for what happens,” I snapped. I didn’t tolerate insults about me or my sweet dog.

“Exactly what do you think you can do? I’m a god.”

“Former god. Given you haven’t regained the power Ariadne stole from you, you’re barely a step above human.”

That brought a mighty glower to his handsome face. “You are trying my patience.”

“And you’re wasting my time,” was my sassy reply. I wiggled my fingers, meaning to teach him a lesson, but rather than giving him a super wedgie, I found my thong riding up my ass crack. Ouch.

My lips parted. “What just happened?”

He smirked. “Have you already forgotten whose blessing you carry?”

My lips pinched, mostly because I didn’t want to admit it had slipped my mind that, technically, my magic came from him. It could be confusing, seeing how my mother filched my and my sisters’ power from Ariadne, who, in turn, had stolen her magic from the monster god.

What I’d not known until now was my magic couldn’t be used against him. “Is this your way of saying you’re immune to me?”

“Is that a problem?” he asked in that deep voice of his.

I wanted to say yes, but in actuality, this was kind of interesting. A man I couldn’t punish or magic into obeying. But the fact he could fuck with my powers did leave me with an interesting question. “If I can’t use your own blessing against you, then does that mean Ariadne can’t either?” Ariadne being the twatwaffle I’d recently gone up against with my sisters. She’d escaped into some portal to another world rather than give back what she stole.

“Correct. So long as I’m stuck with this”—he pulled loose his tie and undid the top button of his shirt to show me a metal collar around his neck—“she has access to my powers, but can’t use my magic against me.”

The ugly thing gave me a chill. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be cut off from my source of power. To have someone siphon it from me, making me weak.

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about her anymore. She’s gone.”

“For now. She will return to finish what she began, unless we find her first.” His ominous prediction was a reminder that Ariadne planned to kill the monster god and permanently take his power.

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. We are bound, you and I.”

I laughed. “No, we’re not. And I can prove it.” With my chin lifted, I walked away, because if there was one thing self-important people hated, it was being ignored.

Chapter Two – Typhon

The disrespect boggled the mind. Here was a woman who’d been gifted part of his magic, who bore his mark—making her his to order around—and yet she ignored him. She sauntered off, her heart-shaped buttocks swinging, with that ridiculous poof ball she called a dog.

Walked away from a god.

He scowled before taking long strides to catch up. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the park. Jinx needs her walk, don’t you, baby?” She offered a sweet smile to the hairy rat on a leash.

“We were in the midst of a conversation.”

“Which I ended because it bored me. Now run along.”

She should count herself lucky he lacked his powers or, in that moment, he would have smote her. “We are not done. Far from it. You will assist me in dealing with Ariadne.”

“I already did. Ariadne is gone from this world. Yay. And you’re welcome.”

“She took my power with her,” he reminded her.

“Which I already said is a you problem,” she countered.

“She will return which is why it’s imperative we find and stop her.”

That made the witch pause, and she cast him a sidelong glance. “Will she come back? I mean, she fled because my sisters and I were about to whoop her ass.”

“Ariadne will want revenge.”

“Ooh, sounds exciting.”

He stared at her wondering about her sanity, liking her attitude while hating it at the same time.

She smiled. “What? I’m bored. Who knew fighting an evil twat would be so energizing? I kind of hope she comes back so I can really fuck her up.”

“You might have taken Ariadne off guard, but she won’t be so easy to defeat the next time,” he warned.

“Again, assuming she returns. Could be the place she fled to is nice.”

“Doubtful. The pleasant worlds would never allow someone like her to stay.”

“But you have no way of knowing for sure. Could be she’s stuck like you were.”

A reminder that he’d been imprisoned in a barren dimension, a victim of betrayal, until recently.

“I highly doubt she went somewhere she can’t escape.”

“Says the guy who was stuck for… how long?”

“Only because she cursed the only exit.” He felt a need to defend himself.

“Whatever. I don’t know why you’d assume she went somewhere shitty.”

“Because there are few dimensions closely aligned to ours that are easy to slip in out and out of.”

“How many is a few?” she asked.

“Maybe five or six. But most of them she’d have ignored. Like Tartarus—”

“The prison for gods,” she interrupted.

“Actually, it is the home of the titans, who happen to be the only ones who are any good at keeping gods incarcerated. I can’t see her going there. Nor would she have gone to Elfenland.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It used to be the home of the fae.”

“Why used to be?”

“The fae played with things best left alone, leading to their near extinction. The only ones that remain alive were those who fled.”

“Okay, so she didn’t go to Elfenland. You said there were a few. Surely not all of them are shit?”

“I doubt she went to Hades.”

“Wait, there’s an actual Hell?”

He snorted. “Yes, but it’s not a place where souls go when they die but rather a hot cesspool for demons.”

“Does this mean there’s a Heaven too?”

“Heaven is a place of endless skies and clouds, with the only solid place being the Garden of Eden, a dangerous locale where even the most beautiful flower is deadly. Not a place Ariadne would go, just like Nullarcana, a dimension that hates magic and hunts those who have it. They’re the ones who created this collar.” He tapped it.

“Doesn’t sound like she’d be staying in any of those places. But from the sounds of it, there are more.”

“There are two planes similar to Earth, but they are very proactive about preventing intruders, so she’d have avoided those.”

“Assuming she knew where she went.”

“Oh, she knew,” was his dark response. “She most likely planned her escape well in advance.”

“I wonder if she knows what world she dumped my mom in.”

“Most likely yes, since she can’t just open a portal to nowhere,” he remarked. He’d been there when Ariadne tried to thin those fighting against her by opening a doorway and shoving the triplets’ mother through.

“What are the chances she sent my mom somewhere nice?”

“Doubtful, but I wouldn’t worry about Apate,” he murmured. Apate, the triplets’ mother, being the goddess of deceit and powerful in her own right.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that your mother is very resourceful.”

“You speak as if you know her.”

“Before my incarceration, we were acquainted.”

Deino’s lip curled. “Oh gross, you slept together.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “No. We are friends, nothing more.”

“Seems like more than friends. After all, she had triplets for you and even had the balls to steal some of your magic from Ariadne to give to us.”

“This is more a case of like sticking together. We are both gods. Ariadne is not. She is a thief. A pretender. She can’t be allowed to succeed.”

“I hate to break it to you, but hasn’t she already? I mean you were imprisoned how long?”

His lips pressed flat. “I am aware of the shame. My weakness is no excuse.”

“How much of your power does Ariadne have?”

“A good portion of it. But not all. I still have dribbles. You and your sisters have some too.”

She eyed him before saying, “If we’re carrying your magic, why haven’t you taken it back to strengthen yourself?”

He put a hand to the collar at his throat. “So long as I wear this, Ariadne will just take anything you give me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Frieda to try and remove it? Heck, I’ll give it a shot if you want.”

He gave a violent shake of his head. “No. Given Ariadne is no longer on this world, I don’t know what will happen. Could be it severs my power permanently, kills me, or the snap of it could cause an explosion.”

“Or is that what she wants you to think so you don’t try to remove it?” she countered.

“This parasite metal isn’t from this world. I don’t know how it will react and, as such, would prefer to not take a chance. I didn’t survive my incarceration to die from being rash.” He noticed during their conversation and stroll they’d reached a park. The dog didn’t seem impressed by the other canines or the grass.

“So you want to find Ariadne to sever the contact between you hopefully without rebound.”

He inclined his head. “When your sister released Bacchus from his collar, he didn’t seem to suffer ill effect, so I am hopeful.” Bacchus being Ariadne’s husband, a god who’d also had his power stolen.

“I still can’t believe he jumped into that portal after my mom.” Her nose wrinkled.

“They were lovers before he met Ariadne.”

“Frieda says you banged Ariadne too.” Deino glanced at him from under lashes.

He winced. “Not one of my finer moments. Blame a weakness of the flesh.”

“Fair enough. I get it.” She crouched to talk with her dog in the stupidest voice. “Okay, little sweet baby, you go do a tinkle, and if you do a number two, I’ve got a treat for you.”

“What are you doing?” he asked with a hint of incredulity.

“Cheering on my favorite girl so she’ll do her business outside instead of on my shag.” She continued singing in that strange, high-pitched voice.

“You let your dog rule you.” His mouth rounded. “A thing not even the size of your head.”

“Excuse me? My head is not that big.”

He glared at the dog. “You.” He pointed. “Defecate.”

The fluffy creature stared at him.

He stared back.

This was embarrassing. The god of monsters shouldn’t be losing a battle of wills with a dog.

“We are wasting time. We need to find Ariadne,” he growled.

“What’s with this ‘we’ shit?” she grumbled.

“You’re going to help.”

“Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Your mother owes me.”

“And? That’s her. Not me, or my sisters.”

“She had you for that express purpose.”

Her expression tightened, and a hard glint entered her gaze. “I am aware Mother didn’t have us out of some maternal instinct. I don’t need you shoving it in my face. And it also changes nothing. I don’t owe you shit.”

Frustration built inside him. There was a time when no one dared speak to him so disrespectfully. The witch saw him as weak. Less than a man. She wouldn’t help without the right motivation.

He couldn’t think of many things that would get her to change her mind. Threatening her sisters would be the quickest but could also backfire, as she was the type to plot vengeance. So what else might sway her?

“Help me and I will give you even more power.”

She eyed him. “I already have quite a bit.”

“But not enough to be immortal.”

He knew he’d surprised her by the slight stiffening of her body. She was careful not to show too much interest. “Immortality won’t help if I’m dead before I get it.”

“But if you succeed…” he teased.

“What are the odds of that?”

“I don’t know. However, the fact Ariadne fled rather than fought indicates she’s fearful we’ll manage to defeat her.”

“Or she’s gone somewhere she can shore up her defense and pick us off if we come for her.”

“The quest will be dangerous.” He wouldn’t lie about that.

“Not exactly a selling point.”

“If Ariadne returns before we find her, she will want vengeance on those who thwarted her,” he warned.

“Meaning me and my sisters.” She looked away before asking, “How are we supposed to handle her if you don’t know where she went?”

“There are ways of finding out.”

“Let’s say we do find her. She still has your magic, and while she might not be able to blast you to kingdom come, she won’t have a problem eradicating me.”

“If we can separate her from the armband that is linked to my collar—”

“Oh, just that?” she sarcastically retorted. “Easy peasy. Let me get right on that.”

“It won’t be simple, but your sister achieved it with ease for Bacchus.”

“Then why aren’t you asking her for help?”

“Alas, the journey we must embark upon is better suited for someone of your skills.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Who says I want to travel? Not to mention, you’re assuming I can replicate what Frieda did. Need I remind you that my sister acted in a moment of panic with no clue what she was doing?”

“A good thing you are the levelheaded sister who will practice ahead of time.”

She stared at him. “Practice how? You told me I couldn’t take off your collar.”

“There are other objects of magic you can attempt to drain.” The armband his collar controlled could only be removed by siphoning the magic holding it in place.

“You’ve got an answer for everything.”

“Of course, I do. I am a god after all.”

Her laughter rang out bright and cheerful and oddly pleasant despite the situation.

She shook her head. “You are something, Typhon. Let’s say I agree, how do I know you won’t go back on your word once you’re the monster god again? Who’s to stop you from killing me instead of paying up?”

At times he wished he had that kind of dishonor. “I can only give my word.”

“Trust isn’t something I give to just anyone.”

“Understandable, but I will mention, as someone who was betrayed, I would not ever do the same. If I want you dead, I will tell you so.”

“Gonna warn me before the smiting?”

His lips twitched. Surely, he wasn’t amused by this witch. “I always warn because the chase is part of the fun.”

Once more her laughter rang out. “Better be careful, or I might start liking you.”

“Does this mean you’ll help?”

Deino crouched to grab her dog and tuck it under her arm. “I’ll get back to you about it. I want to talk to Frieda about my future first.”

“She might not be able to see it if it requires you to travel to another dimension.”

“Perhaps not, but she can tell if I’ll come back.”

“When will you have an answer?” he asked as she once more dared to walk away.

She cast him a coy glance over her shoulder. “I’ll call you.”

Should he point out he didn’t have a phone? In his day, prayer was enough to get his attention. In his day, she would have never refused.

And even more disrespectfully, she made him wait.

COLLAPSE
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Earth’s Secret

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Book Cover: Earth's Secret
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Part of the Earth's Magic series:
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection One (Books 1-3)
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
  • Earth’s Daughter
  • Earth’s Lair
  • Earth’s Elf
  • Earth’s Paladin
  • Earth’s Secret
  • Earth’s Triangle

Time to unearth some secrets.

This Cryptid Authority agent—and witch—is tired of being assigned useless partners. I prefer to work alone, but my new boss says I have to play nice with Special Agent Koda Whiteclaw.

I’m ready to hate the guy, only it turns out he’s not that bad—and he’s super cute to boot.

Our task is to locate a mysterious arsonist causing trouble. What I didn't expect was that during the course of our investigation I'd uncover secrets about my own past. Now if only someone would stop trying to kill me before I get to the truth.

It’s going to take every ounce of skill and magic I have, along with the support of my new partner—at work and in bed—to solve the mystery.

Here's to hoping I live long enough to enjoy a magical thing called love.

Full List of Stores

Published: 2024-04-25
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Supernatural Mystery, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter 1

“We’ve got a thirteen thirty-one on Maple Street.” CA code for cryptid causing trouble.

The call came in mid-shift, interrupting my reading time. Don’t judge. While at times my job as a Cryptid Agent—AKA police for supernatural folk—could be busy, most of the time the highlight of the day involved herding fairies out of the flower shop or reminding gnomes they couldn’t get naked and bathe in sprinklers on people’s front yards. I especially hated it when I showed up and they’d gone from naked soaping to fucking in the middle of the grass. Some things couldn’t be unseen.

“Anyone close by?” dispatch asked.

Since I happened to be literally a block away, I buzzed in. “This is Agent Smith. I’m in the area and will check it out.”

“I’ll see who’s close by for backup,” Horace stated, the guy running dispatch since Evangeline went on maternity.

READ MORE

“Don’t bother. I’m good. If it’s too much to handle, I’ll give you a shout.” Unlike other agents who patrolled, I currently worked alone. I’d not yet been assigned a new partner since the shakeup at my office.

In the last few months, a ton of people had been fired and, in some cases, even charged. My old boss had been the worst. Turned out she’d been colluding with an evil witch and abetted in innocents getting slaughtered. The witch had since been killed, and as for my boss? She now sat in a cell waiting for trial. Karma in action.

Other agents got swept up on charges of dereliction of duty because they knew what happened and didn’t report or stop it. A few, like Ralph—the asshole I’d been reluctantly paired with—were discovered to have been taking bribes to look the other way from cryptids behaving badly. I couldn’t say I was sad to see the lazy fucker go. Ralph should have never been given a badge.

Given the shakeup left our CA office short-staffed, and given I was a senior staffer with actual magic, they’d opted to let me work alone for the moment—until some new agents could be transferred or recruited. I hoped that took a long time. I quite enjoyed working solo. My car stayed clean—no more fast-food wrappers all over the place or the smell of the burps that came after. No dealing with assholes who treated me like I couldn’t hold my own because I didn’t have a sausage between my legs. A witch didn’t need a man with a gun to protect her. I’d zap any threats myself, thank you very much.

According to the address, the location hosted a storage unit place. I parked outside the closed gate by the main office. As I stepped out, I didn’t sense anything untoward. Sometimes the stench of a crime in progress hit you with eye-watering results, like that time I checked out a ghoul preying on graveyards. No mistaking the putrid decay in that case.

A woman, her hair bleached to the point I’d think twice about even brushing it, emerged from the square building. Her wild eyes went well with her harried expression. “We’re closed,” she barked.

I flashed my badge. “I’m Agent Marissa Smith from the Cryptid Authority. We got a call about a disturbance.”

“Thank the baby Jesus you’re here. You have to do something about the monster.”

Humans had a thing for calling anything that didn’t look like them monsters. Most of the time, the cryptids in question were benign. The dangerous ones weren’t allowed into populated areas.

“What can you tell me about the intruder? Do you know where it came from? Are you sure it’s still on the premises?”

“It was inside one of the storage units. I only found it by accident when I opened it to see what I could auction off for nonpayment.”

Sounded like it might be a case of an illegal cryptid pet. It happened. People bought them on the black market and either kept them as status symbols or used them in fights—or for rare ingredients.

“Did you recognize the type of creature?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No idea what it is, but it sure is ugly. Reminds me of my great-grandpa when he was on his death bed with the big C. Gaunt body but giant head!” She held out her hands in what surely had to be an exaggeration.

“You say it was inside one of the storage units?”

At my query, she nodded. “Unit 5C. One of our longest-running clients. Always paid on time until about six months ago.”

Six months… Hunh. That was when all the shit with the witch and the corruption at my office went down.

“Is the creature still inside the unit?”

“I don’t know. Once I saw it, I took off running. Thought my heart was going to burst.” She put a hand to her chest.

“You have cameras?” I queried, seeing one aimed at the entrance.

“Yes, but they’re not working. I keep meaning to get them fixed.”

Shame. It might have given me an idea of what I dealt with.

I walked to the gate and eyed it. Easy to climb even with the barbed wire sprouting from the top. There was a good chance the intruder hadn’t remained confined.

I glanced at the owner over my shoulder. “You said it reminded you of your great-grandpa. So, humanoid in shape?”

Her head bobbed. “Yes. It looked like an old crotchety man with a gigantic head. And when it hissed at me, it had sharp teeth.”

Add in the fact she’d found it inside a storage unit and I had a feeling I knew what we dealt with. A Spriggan, known for their obsessiveness in guarding what they considered treasures. Not common for this side of the ocean, given they were of Cornish origin. Most likely illegally imported. They tended to be cheaper to feed than paying for actual security.

“I’ll need to get inside.” I inclined my head at the gate.

“Alone?” She eyed me and pursed her lips. Even with my own sex, I got disrespected.

“This is what I do, ma’am.” I refrained from rolling my eyes.

“Okay, but if anyone asks, I’m gonna swear on a stack of Bibles that you’re doing it willingly. I ain’t getting sued or arrested because you think you’re some kind of super woman.”

Did I really look that inept?

I blamed the hair. Bright pink and determined to remain that shade no matter how many attempts I made to bleach or dye it.

“You won’t be blamed if I get hurt,” I sighed. “Now would you please open the gate?”

“Whatever. Your funeral,” she muttered as she went back into the building. A moment later, the gate clanked as it rolled open, revealing asphalt that branched between the long single-story buildings with roll-up doors. The siding, a bright yellow, contrasted with the blue of the various units. I saw no sign of anything untoward. Could be the cryptid remained inside the unit it guarded.

As I took a step into the enclosed area, the woman emerged. “Aren’t you going to put on a vest or grab a gun?”

“I’ve got something better than that.” I lifted my hand, and magic shimmered into place around me, forming a shield more durable than any Kevlar.

“Feckin’ witch,” muttered the woman.

A rather rude thing to say given I’d come to help her out, but I was used to humans denigrating those of us with power. It had to be hard knowing they would never be blessed with magic and the potential for greatness. A bitchy thing to think, perhaps, but having grown up being bullied for being different, I no longer gave a fuck.

I’d barely gone three paces when the gate rattled along its track, shutting me in. Some might have been pissed the owner left me with no quick exit. Me, though, I thought it smart. I’d hate for the cryptid to slip out and make my job harder.

Given I had no idea of the layout, I walked straight, head tilted, every single one of my senses scanning. I heard nothing. Saw nada. Smelled zilch. Not even a tingle of magic whispered past me.

The units had letters and numbers on the outside of them, which led to me trying to remember the unit the woman had mentioned, which I’d already forgotten. I could have returned to ask her, but she already thought me incompetent and I had no intention of reinforcing her shitty opinion. Besides, the place wasn’t that big. Surely I’d run into the cryptid at one point.

I kept walking and murmured, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

At a cross-section, I glanced left, just in time to catch the blur that dove at me. As my body moved to avoid, I took in details of my attacker. Slight figure, body wrinkled and grayish in tone, head massive and sprinkled with greasy strands of hair. Spriggan confirmed.

Now it should be noted, as a CA agent I swore to try and do no deadly harm. We weren’t in the business of killing cryptids but rather had a mandate to capture. All that to explain why I didn’t blast the Spriggan into tiny meat chunks despite the fact it would have taken a bite out of me.

Instead, I sidestepped its attack and, as it rushed past, cast out my hand to wrap the creature in a magical fist that it couldn’t escape. Once the Spriggan realized it had been caught, it screeched and flailed, its head and lower part of its legs the only things able to move.

“No. No. No,” it shrieked.

“Behave,” I chided. Spriggans had rudimentary speech comprehension. Usually. This one didn’t appear to be listening, given it kept struggling. “Calm your ass down. I’m not here to harm you. I’m Agent Smith with the Cryptid Authority.”

It hissed, “Release us.”

“No can do. You don’t belong this side of the big pond. You are under arrest for being here illegally.” The fact the Spriggan most likely had been smuggled in didn’t matter. Certain species were prohibited from relocation, especially the harmful varieties.

“No go,” it stubbornly insisted.

“Be pissed all you want. It doesn’t change the facts. You are going to come with me to the CA precinct. In good news, once we’ve figured out where you were snatched from, you might be returned so long as you haven’t committed any violent crimes.” Because if it had, then it would be headed to a super-prison instead. We had them scattered around the globe. Maximum-security buildings, often partially buried underground or in mountains, with insanely complex magical safeguards in order to prevent the escape of those deemed too dangerous for society.

The Spriggan paused its thrashing for a moment and stared at me. Its mouth opened wide in a grin as it murmured, “Yummy pink candy.”

Gross. But not as gross as its hard-on.

“Ew. Put that thing away.”

“I gets to go first!” it crowed.

Odd thing to say until I realized there were two of them!

As the second Spriggan slammed into me from behind, I couldn’t keep my balance and found myself pitching face-first. My shield kept me from getting a face full of asphalt; it also kept the claws at bay. I pushed more magic into it, heating my defense enough the Spriggan attempting to eviscerate me yelped and sprang away. However, my beefed-up shield and attack caused me to lose my hold on the first Spriggan.

Quickly, I shoved to my feet, annoyed at having been caught by surprise.

“Gonna adds you to our collection,” hissed the first creature, who didn’t run once released from my magical grip.

“I says we eats her,” lisped the second.

And then a third I never noticed just had to chime in. “Breed her.”

Oh hell to the no. Outnumbered, and with no time to call for help, I prayed to my goddess, even as I knew she might not answer.

Hekate wasn’t like some of the other deities who reveled in being worshipped. She tended more to the aloof side and encouraged independence from her followers, which might explain why she had only a few.

To my surprise, she answered my call, not with words or encouragement though. My magical reservoir suddenly filled, the power tingling me head to toe, so much I almost burst with it.

“Oh, hell yeah,” I murmured. “Let’s go, you fuckers.”

As the trio of Spriggans suddenly barreled for me, thinking they could crush me by working in tandem, I took the magic brimming within and expelled it, forcing it outward in a wave that didn’t just knock my assailants flat; it dented the storage units on either side.

Damn. My goddess truly had come through for me.

When the concussion of the magic wave faded, I swiftly moved to secure the cryptids before they could rouse from their daze. I bound their hands with strips of iron, rendering each Spriggan defenseless. Only then did I use my phone to call in.

“Gonna need the van for pickup,” I declared, feeling rather proud of myself.

“On its way,” Horace stated in reply.

While I waited for the paddy wagon to arrive, I sauntered past the damage, looking for the original unit that held the Spriggans. It proved easy to find. For one, it remained open. Two, it stank. And three, it held a litter of ugly little Spriggans that appeared to be feeding off the corpse of a woman with her stomach ripped open. Yikes. Looked like they’d been discovered just in time. The damage this many Spriggans might have caused if they got loose would have caused some serious PR nightmares with our CA office.

The hissing younglings were easily corralled, their tiny bodies too undeveloped yet to do more than express their displeasure.

With that finished, I peeked inside the unit, wondering who in their right mind paid to house these creatures. To my surprise, while the front of the unit might be a mess, the back of it appeared untouched. A harder glance with my othersight—what I called looking past the real world to that of the esoteric—showed a shimmer of power. A curtain of magic protected stacks of boxes. Boxes I recognized, of sorts. The CA logo was stamped across them, and I had to wonder at their content. Confiscated goods stolen from our office? Personal files? Or junk that simply happened to be stored in some branded boxes?

Before I could find out, a commotion in the form of voices and gates rattling open indicated reinforcements had arrived.

I exited the storage unit to see Pablo and Felicia approaching, the former being honest enough to not be involved in the previous rot in our office and the latter a new hire. They were accompanied by the storage complex owner, who had her lips pursed in a mighty scowl.

“Your Spriggan problem has been neutralized,” I informed her as she got within talking distance.

“You destroyed my place!” she shrieked. “I am going to sue.”

Actually, she couldn’t, as the CA had a government sanction to use whatever force necessary to subdue misbehaving cryptids.

“Insurance should cover the damage,” I advised.

“If I had any!”

“In that case, go after the person who illegally stored the Spriggans on your property.” I tried to give her options, but she shot that one down as well.

“Hard to get money out of a dead-beat client,” the woman grumbled, crossing her arms.

“I’m sure there’s something that can be done.” Pablo tried to soothe the irate owner and led her away.

Meanwhile, Felicia snorted. “Some people just don’t know how to say thank you.”

“No shit.” I’d risked my life to help and all I got was grief—and not just from the owner of the storage units.

My new boss, a stern and grizzled former military advisor, Abe Kowalski, called me into his office and gave me a stern look as he said, “You took a big risk going in by yourself once you realized the dangerous situation.”

“A danger I handled,” I pointed out.

“Only because you got lucky,” he barked. “And that’s not acceptable. Protocol states, in the case of aggressive cryptids, an agent is to wait for backup unless there is imminent danger to themselves or civilians.”

“I didn’t know there was three of them.”

“But you did suspect a Spriggan, correct?” At my nod, he continued to berate. “This office has been through too much shit lately for me to have to deal with the paperwork of an agent who thinks she’s above the rules. I’m putting you on desk duty until we can find you a partner who will temper your vigilante ways.”

“You’re benching me? But I’m one of the best you have.” I couldn’t hide my shock.

“Exactly and we could have lost you today because you were cocky.” Kowalski’s lips turned down. “Trust me, I don’t like doing this, but you’ve left me no choice.”

He had a choice. He could let me do my job.

Instead, I got relegated to the basement.

Chapter 2

Being placed on desk duty sucked. Even worse, the punishment wasn’t because I’d failed to do my job. I’d captured the Spriggans. Done so without loss of life and yet, instead of being commended, I’d been disciplined.

So unfair.

Some people might have pouted or whined, even yelled. Having been around the block a few times in my thirty-five years, I’d reached a maturity level that allowed me to accept my boss’s decision without resorting to the stomping of my feet or quitting. Although I was tempted. Inaction didn’t suit me.

As if being stuck inside the precinct didn’t blow enough, I also didn’t get to work on active case files. A part of me hoped I’d be able to prove a point by making a few calls, searching a few databases, and piecing together some clues to solve a crime. I was a damned good agent.

Instead of showing off my skills, I got sent to the basement to deal with the stash of boxes recovered from the storage unit. To my surprise, according to the info Kowalski messaged me, the criminal who stashed them turned out to be none other than my last boss. The crooked one. Apparently, rather than having old CA case files digitized, she’d chosen to steal and hide them away for no reason anyone could discern.

My task? To check every single one of those files against our databases before shredding them. If the file was missing online, then I got the lovely task of inputting them one by one. It should be noted, typing was not one of my strong points.

I grimaced as I entered the musty room with a single tiny—and dirty—window covered in bars. The boxes numbered seven in total and had been stacked in a corner. My workspace consisted of a dented metal table, a chair that appeared on its last legs, and an ancient computer. A sticky note beside it had log-in instructions.

I spent the first three days of my punishment bored out of my mind and annoyed. Turned out all of the records needed to be manually added to the database of cryptid crimes. My slow and painful hunt and peck at the keyboard meant each missing report took me ages to add. It didn’t help the things I had to update were stupid.

Gnome stole a lawn ornament. Who cared? It happened a decade ago.

Fairies got drunk on fermented fruit. Again, a nothing burger.

A neighbor’s dog pissed on a witch’s roses and caused them to wilt. Why had anyone even bothered writing the complaint down?

On and on the list of petty crimes went, both a waste of paper and my time. None of these needed to be saved forever. I could have shredded them all and the world wouldn’t have known the difference, especially since most of the case files went back decades.

The last box with the most mildew and rodent damage made me sigh. The chew and piss marks made the files more challenging to discern, and once I did, I could have screamed, as it was just more dumb shit—warlock made it rain Popsicle dicks for a Pride parade, a goblin stealing garbage cans, a child found in the ashes of a house that burned down. A little girl with pink hair and no last name.

I blinked and reread the last file in disbelief.

Holy fuck. The report was about me. I was that child. An orphan whose memories started the moment social services took me into custody. Despite trying everything—therapy, magic, even hypnosis—I couldn’t remember anything of my past. Not even the fire.

As I’d aged and asked questions about my origin, the social workers blew me off, claiming the details about my rescue had been lost.

I hadn’t believed them, so at eighteen, I’d signed up to become a Cryptid Authority agent, thinking I’d have access to more details about my rescue. However, it turned out they spoke the truth. The original case file had gone missing.

Until now.

I held it in my hand, a folder not very thick, as it contained only a few pages, and yet I trembled. Despite my curiosity, I found myself unable to flip from the first to the next page. Instead, I stared at the earliest known picture of me. Solemn-faced, my eyes too big for my face, my hair the same shocking pink of today. I wore an oversized shirt. Someone must have given me the one off their back to hide my nudity.

As my shock wore off, I pored over the details, sparse as they were.

My story began with a house fire, one already blazing hot and furious before the fire services even arrived on the scene. Given the inferno-like conditions, it was assumed no one survived. Meaning, they didn’t risk anyone’s life sending them in to look. Rather than waste a ton of time or resources, they let the flames peter out on their own.

Only once the smoke cleared did the investigating fire marshal notice a child sitting amongst the ashes. Hugging her knees, head pressed to them, her pink hair a curtain around her naked body.

Convinced the tyke must be cryptid, the fire marshal called in the Cryptid Authority, who swept in and bundled the little girl off for testing and questioning.

The blood and DNA samples labelled me as human. At the time, I showed no evidence of being gifted in any way, nor did anything in my appearance set me apart, unless the pink hair and surviving the raging blaze counted. Since they couldn’t identify me and no one stepped forward to claim me, the CA placed me in the foster care system, which, in my case, turned out to not be horrible. My foster parents were actually decent folk. Unlike others in the system, I didn’t get shipped around and had a normal childhood if we ignored how I’d gotten orphaned in the first place.

According to the report, questions about my parents—who my family was—went unanswered. I couldn’t explain a single thing. I didn’t know or remember how I got there. I had no memories of parents or guardians, or anyone for that matter. Just my name.

The investigating agents lost interest in my case. It fizzled off to nonconclusive and then disappeared entirely. Until now.

I would have liked to have read more but for two things. One, the last few pages had gotten damp and were now stuck together, and two, my phone went off with a text from the boss.

My office. Asap.

Was that an I’m-out-of-the-dog-house-come-see-me or a you’re-about-to-be-on-my-permanent-shit-list request?

Only one way to find out. However, first, given no one had a clue what hid in the boxes, I stashed the file about me in my oversized purse—which I carried not because I kept a shit-ton of girl stuff on me, but more because it acted as my lunch bag and was big enough for the books I liked to read when my shifts were slow.

As to those who would clutch their pearls at my minor theft, too bad. I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty. My file had already been lost for thirty years, and I doubted anyone gave a damn other than me. Besides, I didn’t need anyone else knowing about my mysteriously fucked-up childhood.

I headed up from the dungeon to the main floor and exited into the bullpen, where it seemed everyone clustered around something. Or I should say, someone.

A tall man stood amidst the agents with his back to me, his hair a lustrous black with a blue sheen, his shoulders broad. Whoever he was, he had everyone enthralled. Me, I had a meeting with the boss to attend, so I stalked past to knock on Kowalski’s door.

“Come in,” barked my boss.

I entered to find Kowalski sitting behind his desk looking peeved, which, I should add, seemed to be his permanent expression.

“You wanted to see me, sir.” I started with a respectful tone. I could always resort to freaking out later if he tried to punish me further.

“I did. Am I right to assume you’d like to get out of desk duty?”

“Hell yeah.” I didn’t even attempt to curb my enthusiasm.

“Good. Because I’m going to need all agents on deck.”

“Has something happened?” I’d not heard of any problems; then again, I didn’t have a ton of coworkers I chatted with. I tended to keep to myself.

“No issues yet, but it appears that one of the super prison escapees might be heading our way.”

I well remembered the scandal from last year, as every CA office had gone on high alert for weeks, with good reason. A prison for the most dangerous cryptids had been destroyed, releasing a great number of its inhabitants. While some had been caught, many still remained at large.

“Any idea of what we’re keeping an eye out for?”

“A chimera who was in captivity for more than three decades for crimes against humanity. As far as we know, she’s not in town, but there’s been a report of her popping up a few hours away.”

A chimera? How rare. There were only a handful left in the world. What little I knew about their species stated they were usually adept at fire magic and could shift into a beast shape that varied. Some had wings. Others, three heads. I even recalled an image of one with a serpentine tail. The one other thing I knew? They were considered dangerous.

I did so love a challenge.

I barely contained my excitement as I asked, “You want me to see if I can scry for her?”

“Already been tried. She’s wily and knows how to hide her tracks. All the CA expert could do was confirm that the chimera was in the area around the fires because she left behind traces of her essence.”

Interesting. I didn’t have the kind of powers to pick up specific cryptid essence from sites, otherwise I’d have been tempted to try it myself, just to get a beat on this woman.

Kowalski continued. “The only reason we even caught wind of her is because of the fires she’s been causing. In the most recent one, she was actually caught by video surveillance breaking into a mobile phone store. It burned down right after. Given her propensity for arson, I’ll want you to personally start investigating all nearby blazes to see if you can connect her to any of them, so we know if she’s made it into town yet.”

I didn’t groan despite knowing most of the fires I’d be checking out would be benign in origin. Sometimes being a CA agent meant doing a bunch of dull and repetitive footwork in the hopes of finding a clue that would lead to the culprit. On the bright side, arsonists sometimes hung around to admire their handiwork, so it was possible I could end up making an arrest. “Am I apprehending, or is there a termination order?” While the Cryptid Authority did its best to arrest rather than kill, in some cases we had no choice. The lives of those we protected had to come first.

His eyes snapped up to meet mine. “You are not to approach the chimera under any circumstances. You are to investigate the fires, and if there happens to be a sighting of the chimera then you call for backup—call me. Do not speak to her. Do not give her a chance to speak to you. Their kind are tricksters and murderers and cannot be trusted.”

“Yes, sir. On it, sir.”

“Not quite yet, Smith. There is one more thing.” Before Kowalski could tell me what that thing was, someone knocked on his door.

“Come in,” called out my boss.

The stranger from the bullpen entered, even prettier from the front than the back. His native ancestry showed in his smooth tanned skin and dark eyes.

“Hey, Abe.” The man greeted my boss with familiarity.

“Koda, glad you could be here on short notice.” Kowalski stood and offered his hand for a shake.

“My pleasure to help.”

I had a bad feeling about this, which my boss confirmed a second later.

“Agent Marissa Smith, say hello to your new partner, Agent Koda Whiteclaw.”

“Partner?” I exclaimed. “I don’t need a partner.”

“You do if you want out of desk duty,” my boss growled.

My lips pinched. I did want out. Still… I eyed the good-looking man. “Hold on… Koda Whiteclaw. I know that name.”

“You should,” my boss said. “He’s the one who recently busted that underground pixie drug ring.” They’d been selling their drunken glitter to humans, leading to a sharp increase in indecent exposure incidents. “He also tracked down the stolen beanstalk seeds.” They’d been stolen from the museum, and there’d been fear they would be planted, giving the very ornery giants living in Cloud Plane over Earth access to the planet. They were apparently still pissed about the whole Jack-stealing-the-golden-goose incident.

“So he’s the CA’s super-agent darling. Good for him. I still don’t want him as a partner.”

“Oh, so you’d rather return to the basement?” Kowalski arched a brow.

“No.” I didn’t sulk, but only because I bit my inner lip. “He better not be as useless as my last partner.” Not a really high bar given Ralph’s only real skill? Knowing the locations of the best greasy spoons.

At my complaint, Koda Whiteclaw’s lips split into a smile. “I’ll do my best to not disappoint.”

“How about you just stay out of my way?”

“I assure you I am quite capable.”

I would have loved to argue that point, but I’d heard of him. Everyone had, hence why he had his own little fan club.

“This is non-negotiable, Smith. You will work with Agent Whiteclaw.”

“If I must,” I muttered. “Was that all?”

“Almost.” My boss slid over a folder marked Classified. “I’ve already briefed Agent Whiteclaw on our chimera, but here’s the official file.”

I flipped it open and frowned at the slim sheaf within, most of it redacted. “You’ve got to be kidding. It doesn’t even have a decent picture!” The grainy image within—clearly a screengrab from a surveillance video—showed an indistinct woman who could have been anyone.

Even Agent Whiteclaw was on my side. “This is kind of useless.”

“I’m aware it’s not much,” the boss apologized. “I’m working on getting more info.”

“These fires, we’re sure it’s the chimera causing them? Could be another cryptid with fire.”

“It’s the chimera,” Kowalski confirmed. “Fires are her MO, and we’re not going to chalk it up to coincidence when we have a high-risk criminal who just so happens to be around when one of their signature moves is occurring. Besides, I have it on good authority it’s her.”

“I’ll want a copy of the video you mentioned.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t do that, as it appears to have been misplaced.”

“Of course, it was.” I held in a sigh. “Very well. Guess I have my work cut out for me.”

I’d almost forgotten about Whiteclaw until he murmured, “Don’t you mean we?”

I glanced at him. “That will depend on you. My last partner’s idea of help was eating and napping while I did all the drudgery.”

Whiteclaw’s brow arched. “Then I can see why you prefer working alone. If it helps, I never nap and would never dream of eating while watching you work.”

If he actually meant that, then maybe this wouldn’t suck balls. “Speaking of eating, I need lunch. How do you feel about tacos? I know a place close by where we can stuff our faces while discussing how to tackle this.”

“Lead the way, partner.”

I did, sauntering cockily out of my boss’s office, happy to be out of the dungeon. As for the extra sway in my step that wiggled my fine ass? Entirely for my new partner’s benefit. Sue me. He was damned cute.

COLLAPSE
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Professor and the Seer

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Book Cover: Professor and the Seer
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Part of the The Grae Sisters series:
  • The Grae Sisters (Books 1 – 3)
  • Warden and the Assassin
  • Professor and the Seer
  • Gentleman and the Witch

I can see everyone’s future but my own.

I’ve lived most of my life as a recluse because leaving my house means being bombarded with visions of the possible futures that exist with every step I take. If that person crosses the road here, they live, but if they go to the traffic lights at the corner, they’ll get hit by someone running the red.

It’s a curse, and one I do my best to hide from until I’m dragged on a mission to rescue my sister. Not that my assassin sibling needs my help.

What I don’t expect is to be hit by a wave of power that throws my ability into overdrive—and threatens my sanity.

Rather than drag my sisters into my nightmare, I enlist the aid of a professor specializing in arcane history. A man I could easily love, but I already know how that ends—with him dying at my feet.

There has to be a way to change the future, but what if my choices bring about the apocalypse?

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Published: 2024-04-04
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, psychic romance, Urban Fantasy, Witch Romance, wizard romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

I got my first vision of the future when I turned sixteen.

It happened during an eclipse. The entire school had gathered outside in the multipurpose field surrounded by bleachers and ringed by a track, the grass bearing white painted lines for the many sports played. Teachers handed out special glasses so we could observe the phenomenon without going blind.

Me, I sat in the bleachers well away from the gaggles of friend groups and classes. Apart even from my sisters, who shared this birthday with me. Triplets, born on a Friday the 13th during an eclipse. It seemed oddly fitting the same circumstance happened on what most considered a pivotal age in a person’s life. A portent, if you were the superstitious type. A dreamer like me wanted to believe it meant something. I’d always had a vivid imagination.

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The fat book in my lap—a fantasy story by Brandon Sanderson about a group of kids who turn out to be special—lay unread in my lap. I couldn’t concentrate. Blame the air around me. It hummed, vibrating with electricity as if a storm approached, and yet the sky remained clear—if you ignored the visible moon creeping across.

As the time of the event neared, shadow bands began to shiver and slither across the ground, a prelude to the eclipse. Simply light and shadow making strange patterns, nothing harmful about it, and yet my flesh pimpled, my stomach wrenched, and my head felt light.

What’s happening?

Disturbed, I left my spot in the bleachers, aiming for the field, absently noticing that my sisters headed in my direction. Did they have the same gut-clenching cramps? They’d started the moment I woke and intensified as the world around me darkened.

When the moon covered the sun, creating a nimbus, my body jolted as if struck by lightning. My head went back. Pretty sure my eyes rolled back too. Everything around me stopped.

A bell chimed—a light sound—and a yellow light flashed as a voice, frightening because it filled my head, declared, It is done. The promise has been fulfilled.

What was done?

And that was when the vision hit.

A mirror showed a reflection, a woman in her thirties or so, her hair a long, wispy brown with burgundy hints.

Wait a second…

That was me! An older version, wearing an oversized light green T-shirt. In that reflection, a man appeared, half naked, his bare chest showing off some serious abs. Blond-haired, jawline unshaven, and very handsome. He saw me looking and smiled. A smile meant for a lover.

It melted my teenage heart.

Older me turned to face him, and his eyes widened, his lips parted. Blame the sword that suddenly jutted from his chest. Dream me gaped in shock at the sight of the blood.

So much blood…

I snapped out of that fugue and found myself clinging to my sisters, who looked just as traumatized. It led to me muttering, “What the fuck just happened?”

For one, we’d all gotten our periods. Poor Dina had blood rolling down her leg, at school, where, if noticed, she’d become a pariah with a horrible nickname.

We fled, headed home to shower, which was when we discovered we didn’t just get our periods. All three of us now had tattoos running up the bottom part of our spines.

And what did our mother do when she found out? Declared she’d always known we’d be special.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. Our sixteenth turned out to be the day we got our powers.

My sister, Enyo, became a warrior. Strong. Fast. Wily. She could slip into shadows and move so quietly that I nearly pissed myself a few times when she’d pop out to yell boo. My revenge? Not telling her when I knew she’d be stepping in shit.

Dina, a variation she preferred over her real name, Deino, became a witch like our mother. She could move stuff with magic, infuse potions, and do other parlor-type tricks.

Me, Frieda, short for Pemphredo—because our mother got the not-so-great idea of naming her triplets after the Graeae sisters of lore, you know the hags who shared an eyeball—I got to see the future.

Sounds cool, right?

Wrong.

I didn’t get happy visions of things to come but horrific accidents, like my neighbor’s dog getting killed or knowing our delivery guy would suffer a tragedy. Worse, I couldn’t control it. It would hit at the most random times, like when I grabbed the package of bread I’d suddenly see it going moldy because no one ate it. I hated my power most when it hit me in public and I reacted like a crazy person. Like in school, when a jock bumped into me and I screamed, not because it hurt but because he’d be in an accident that would destroy half his face. Or when I sat in a chair at school, only to bounce out of it because I mistook a vision of it breaking for reality.

The mockery at my increased weirdness had me feeling like a freak.

My mother, not an exactly warm woman to start with, did try to assuage my misery. “You’re special, Frieda. What you have is a gift.”

Didn’t feel very gift-y to me. Try more like a curse. Turned out the future wasn’t set in stone, and I got to see the possibilities, so many of them at times I wanted to scream.

Mom tried to help me rein it in. She hired people to teach me how to meditate and relax. Hard to relax when I knew Lydia, a cat-hoarding lady in her fifties, would die and get eaten by them. Her reply when I tried to warn her? “My angels would never.”

Another tried to get me to do yoga. I only did two sessions before telling my mom I couldn’t handle the depraved orgies involving more than just people the instructor had in her future.

To her credit, Mom did try to find people with my variety of power to teach me. Charlatan after charlatan applied. Only one applicant had a similar ability, but in the end, she couldn’t handle the level of my supposed gift.

As time passed, I became more and more reclusive, keeping my visions to myself unless they involved my sisters—usually Enyo, who seemed to attract trouble.

Despite my many glimpses of the future, I never forgot my first of the man I’d yet to meet. A man who would make me happy. A man who would die at my feet.

It became one of the few predictions I had that involved me, and it seemed easy to avoid. If I ever encountered him, I’d simply not get involved. My heart couldn’t be crushed if we never fell in love.

A great plan that fell apart the moment I met John.

Chapter One

How I met John…

The pounding on my apartment door didn’t last long. I knew who stood on the other side, and I had no interest in chatting. Not when I already knew what Dina planned to say.

She growled inside my head. Let me in.

Busy, was my mental reply. Did I mention us triplets could feel and hear each other? Great for doing tests in school or when a blind date when to shit. Not so great when a chance encounter in a night club led to my sister getting railed into screaming bliss.

This is important, Dina insisted.

I chose to not reply. Not that it mattered. The problem with having a witch for a sister? She could always get inside no matter how many locks I used.

With her magic, she undid my many deadbolts and stomped inside—as I’d known she would—waving her hands. “Enyo’s been kidnapped!”

“No shit.” I lounged on my couch in pajamas—of which my home-based ass owned many—and sighed. “Let’s skip the part where I act surprised. Yes, she was taken unwittingly by magic, and, no, I do not want to go on a trip with you to get her back.”

“I fucking hate it when you do that.” The beautiful Dina pursed her perfect lips and scowled.

It should be noted we looked almost identical but for the hair and makeup. Dina had a stylish cut and perfectly rouged lips and smoky eyes. Me? I’d not used a brush in days and didn’t even put moisturizer on my face.

“I’m aware you hate it. Do you know how many times I’ve seen you flipping out over it?” I rolled my eyes.

“Aren’t you worried at all about our sister?” she countered.

“Yes.” I’d already predicted that the choices Enyo made today would affect not just her future but mine as well. How could I tell? I saw nothing. Nothing but murk when I tried to peek ahead. I gave myself a headache trying to see past it. That kind of cloudiness was usually a strong indicator I’d be involved. Ugh. “If you’ll recall, I told her to say no to whatever deal she’s offered by the Warden.” Warden being the title held by a man who had to guard a dangerous place and had arranged for my sister’s kidnapping.

“And in how many future threads does she say no?”

My lips pursed. “None.” But I kept hoping I’d just not seen that branch. While rare, sometimes I could be surprised. After all, free will did exist even as some outcomes could never be changed.

Dina wagged a finger at me. “This is your fault! You should have never told her that this Warden she was going to meet would end up being her lover.”

“I’m aware I should have kept that part to myself,” I mumbled. At the time I’d blurted it out, I’d wanted to annoy Enyo. Instead, it made her determined to be contrary. If I said no, she said yes. It had been like that since we were kids.

“Did you know she’d be kidnapped? Because you neglected to mention it.”

“I wasn’t sure how she and the Warden would meet,” I admitted. My visions sometimes lacked details.

“We have to rescue her,” Dina declared.

“Pretty sure Enyo is more than capable of handling things herself.” After all, Mom had her trained as a killer. Because of Enyo, and the money she made as an assassin, we’d been able to buy a three-story building that we retrofitted into apartments for each of us, with the basement as a training area. See, part of our power—and curse—meant we couldn’t be far apart from each other without suffering ill effects. Hence why Dina freaked. We had less than three days before the weakness and vomiting started.

“Being able to handle herself is not the point. She. Was. Kidnapped!” My sister took it as a personal affront, probably because it happened via magic—her specialty—and in our basement—which should have been protected.

“She’s fine.”

“You’ve seen that?”

My lips pinched. “Not exactly. But I mean she’s going to get laid, so obviously she’s going to be okay.”

Dina glared. I knew what that look meant. She wouldn’t budge.

I heaved a mighty sigh. “Fine. We’ll go.” A reluctant agreement that twisted my innards. While I didn’t have agoraphobia, I came close. Leaving my safe place meant being bombarded by visions of the possible futures of people I didn’t give a rat’s ass about.

Decision made, a flood of visions hit. I’d chosen a fork in the “go or stay” future. It took me a second before I said, “Whatever you do, don’t book any 7 p.m. flights.”

My sister didn’t ask why. Nothing too bad. Screaming children for one airline and the alternate leaving at the same time would end up diverting because of engine troubles.

Within hours, Dina had our asses on a plane, me wearing gloves I’d knitted myself to prevent accidental touch, headphones playing ocean sounds, and my body smothered to the gills in clothing. Layers helped me to repel some of the noise I encountered.

Mom used to tell me I’d eventually get a handle on my power enough that I could shut it off at will. Almost forty and I still waited.

Almost forty and I’d avoided the blond man in the mirror, too. As well as relationships. Hard to get serious with anyone when you knew it was doomed for failure. Heck, I’d known the guy I’d lose my virginity to would never call me back, but I’d still done it just to get it over with.

It took eighteen hours to reach my sister in the tropical spot she’d been magically teleported to. Medication meant I’d slept through most of it.

We hired a taxi to take us from the airport to a town two hours away. It cost us several hundred dollars, and when the driver thought to pull over and rob us, Dina quickly disabused him of that notion by putting a magical vise around his balls and murmuring, “I wouldn’t advise doing that.”

The hotel he dropped us off at—before peeling off in a burn of rubber that made my nose wrinkle—appeared nice. Lavish. Not exactly a dark, dank prison cell.

We took the elevator to the top floor and the penthouse. A waggle of Dina’s magic fingers and we entered without making a sound. As to how we knew Enyo’s exact location? Our inner radar—aka the triplet curse—led us to the double doors to the master suite. We entered to find a man sleeping in the bed.

While Dina woke him with threats, I tuned out and tried to figure out why I felt a strange tingle. A prescient feeling that had me turning in time to see Enyo exit the bathroom. But it wasn’t her that had me holding my breath.

Someone entered the room from the living area, blond hair tousled, face still groggy from sleep. “What’s going on?”

I blinked and wavered on my feet, for there, decades after I’d first seen him, was the man from my very first vision.

And when he smiled in my direction, I knew without needing a glimpse at the future I was in trouble.

Chapter Two

Over the next few days, I did my best to avoid the man who would die at my feet if we became lovers. His name was John, a professor of arcane history and best friends with Bane, aka the Warden.

It wasn’t easy steering, though. Situations kept forcing us together. Like when a lack of Sea-Doos for all of us meant I had to ride, clinging to him like an anaconda, while we made our way to an island. A small island with a castle, where it seemed like every time I left my room, John was nearby.

My sisters informed me of his interest in speaking with me about my gift, and yet he didn’t push me. If I fled the room when he entered, he didn’t follow. At times, I was almost disappointed. After all, in my vision, we were lovers. Or had I misunderstood the situation?

Monster attacks and preparing for an eclipse that would result in my sister’s death kept me busy and focused on things other than how sunlight made his blondish hair glint. My worry over my sister’s imminent demise helped me ignore the fact he was a genuinely nice guy who quickly jumped to act and protect, his wizardly skills of the defense variety.

I’d planned to escape his presence entirely after the eclipse, only a few unexpected things transpired. One, my sister survived because Bane chose love over duty—which was crazy romantic. And two, something happened to me and my siblings when a portal opened during a rare eclipse. Whatever had bound me and my sisters on a magical level had disappeared in the lightning. Meaning for the first time in a very long time, we couldn’t hear each other’s thoughts, and we could finally be apart without becoming ill. But that paled in comparison to the burst of power that hit me, stronger than that which gave me my ability at sixteen. It pushed my gift into overdrive, the visions overwhelming enough that when we escaped the doomed island on the yacht, I found myself spinning emotionally.

I ended up on deck, sucking in fresh air, wanting to cry that even something so simple as the whisper of a storm brought the visions. My grip on the rail showed me the yacht’s fate, as if I cared how many times it would be sanded and painted. Staring at the churning wake made me aware of the turbulence that disrupted the school of fish below, who now scattered from their set path and would be eaten.

It was just too much.

When someone joined me, I didn’t look. Why bother? I knew who it was. A part of me wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to jump overboard and end my misery—and save his life.

John murmured a soft, “For someone who survived hell, you look upset.”

Upset didn’t even come close. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. Depressed. How to explain that I couldn’t handle my power? That I wished nothing more than to get rid of it. Which was when it hit me. John studied the arcane. Knew its history.

I turned to him and, expression serious, said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” His lips curved, his smile genuine and warm.

But only because he didn’t know his fate if he stuck with me. “You shouldn’t be so quick to agree. It could be dangerous.” I tried to give him warning.

“I’m not afraid.” I could see he truly meant what he said.

My lips turned down. “You should be. Never mind. Forget I asked.” I whirled from him and clung to the railing so tight my knuckles turned white.

“Now you have to tell me. What’s got you upset? Did you see something?”

“More like I can’t stop seeing.” My whispered admission.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

A bitter laugh spilled from me. “How could you, when I don’t? I thought my power was bad before, but since the portal opened…” I closed my eyes and rocked in place. “Now it’s worse than ever. Now every move I make, breath I take, the future of everything is blasting me with every possibility.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

The moment he offered, the vision hit me hard and fast. The same one I’d seen before. The one that never seemed to change. The one where he died.

“No!” I barked. “You shouldn’t even offer. As a matter of fact, you should be running fast and far from me.”

“You saw something, and that’s why you’ve been avoiding me,” he declared.

Guess I’d made that too obvious to lie. “I did.”

“You going to tell me what you’ve seen?” He kept his voice soft, not that it stopped my trembling.

Tears clung wetly to my lashes, and I tried to hold my emotions in check as I mumbled, “You’ll die because of me.”

“That seems kind of extreme.”

“I’m not exaggerating. I saw it in my very first vision when I was sixteen.”

“Well, forewarned means we can prepare. After all, the future isn’t set in stone but is rather a series of branches. We just need to avoid the path that kills me.”

“It’s not that simple,” I insisted.

“Isn’t it? You thought your sister would die helping Bane, and that never came to pass,” he pointed out.

“A valid assumption because the paths to her death were many and only one existed where she lived. But you…” I paused before I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye. “I’ve only ever seen one future for you. And in it, you’re stabbed through the heart.”

If I thought telling John he’d end up dead would deter him from having anything to do with me, I obviously didn’t grasp how fate worked. He refused to be deterred.

“Stabbed, eh? That sounds painful but is avoidable. They do sell armor to prevent that. Maybe I’ll invest in something magical,” he mused aloud.

“You’re not wearing armor in my vision,” I stated.

“Obviously, or they wouldn’t have managed to run me through. Guess I’d better get used to having some on until we get past that particular point in time.”

A part of me wanted to blurt out that he was naked when it happened, but that would lead to questions, such as why we were naked together. Not something I wanted to answer. “This isn’t funny.”

“I assure you I am not the type to be amused by death. I am also not the type to hide away because of danger. And let’s be honest, you wouldn’t have asked me for help unless you really had to. I’m aware you don’t like me.”

I blinked at him before blurting out, “What makes you say that?”

He looked younger than his forty-some years when he shrugged with his hands shoved in his pockets. “It’s kind of obvious the way you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Because I want to prevent what I saw coming true.”

A smart man, he quickly grasped the one thing I hadn’t mentioned. “You’re with me when it happens!”

My lips twisted. “Yes.”

“Are we old and grey?”

“No, why?”

“Because I have it on good authority that I’ll live a very long life.” He tried to offer a charming smile, but when I refused to relent, he turned serious again. “Why would you assume it’s your fault?”

I opened my mouth to reply, only to slam it shut.

He went on. “Who’s to say it’s not a random act of violence? Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all. Could be my enemies coming after me.”

“Your enemies?” I couldn’t help an incredulous note. “You’re a historian.”

“Exactly. I dig into the past, something that upsets groups with certain beliefs and families with secrets to hide. Could be I stumble across something sensitive and someone tries to shut me up.”

I’ll admit that hadn’t occurred to me. The fact he died in my presence, I’d always assumed I was the cause. “Why are you so determined to help me? You said it yourself. I’ve been an aloof bitch.”

He winced. “I would never call a woman that. Everyone has a right to choose who they wish to converse with.”

“You’re being too nice. I wasn’t. I intentionally avoided you.”

“With reason.”

I scowled. “And here you are being nice again.” It annoyed me because it made me like him. I didn’t want to like him.

“It’s how I was raised, so if you have a problem with it, you’ll have to take it up with my family. In the meantime, this help you need… What happens if I say no?”

“I don’t know.” A hated admission.

“If you ask someone else, will they die too?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t see my own future often.” Not to mention, seeing as how I needed arcane help, I found myself limited in choices as to who I could enlist for aid.

“Since you asked me, and not Bane or your sisters, I’m going to assume this has to do with my historian skills. I will further deduce that you’re seeking help in understanding what happened to you when the portal opened and how to control this increase in ability. Perhaps you’d also benefit from working with someone knowledgeable in the past who might act as a guide.”

My lips clamped tight.

“Your expression seems to indicate I’m right.”

My head ducked as I whispered, “Everything is screaming at me, and I feel like I’m going mad.”

“Sounds awful.”

My lips twisted. “Welcome to my life, only it’s even worse now.”

“Bane was saying something that resembled lightning came shooting out of the portal when it opened. It must have been an arcane boost that elevated your powers.”

My nose wrinkled. “I’d have rather it took it away like it took Bane’s Warden curse.”

“Given your sisters also got leveled up, I can only assume it has something to do with those markings on your bodies that match those on the pillar holding the portal.”

A pillar that I’d touched, only to have it give a cryptic message. Lies began the treachery. Jealousy kept it captive. Love will set it free. The last part was the only one that made sense, as Bane’s love for Enyo led to him abandoning the portal, allowing it to open. What did it free though? Did I carry something evil inside me?

My shoulders rolled. “I don’t know.” A phrase I’d begun to hate even as I kept repeating it.

“And this is where I have to disappoint and tell you I’ve never managed to find anything about Bane’s curse. The secret of what was locked inside that portal, and why, has never surfaced in any of my research.”

“Is that why you are looking for a seer who can see the past?” Something Enyo had told me about John back at the castle, in one of her attempts to convince me to talk to him.

He nodded. “More specifically, I’m looking for someone who can touch an object and receive a vision of its past. It’s a rare power. According to the arcane annals, there hasn’t been anyone with that ability in the last century. At least, none recorded.”

“I didn’t even know seeing the past was a possibility. Then again, I don’t know much. I’ve only met one other true seer. She called herself Lady Clara and only got her visions in spurts. She never saw the branches like I did.” She’d accused me of lying and, when I insisted I told the truth, accused me of being a drama llama.

“Open yourself to me, child.” She’d gripped my hands in hers so tight I yelped, not only because of the discomfort but what I saw… Her in a padded room, rocking and drooling.

She’d released me and staggered, her expression wide-eyed with horror, surprise, and, within seconds, madness. Apparently, she couldn’t handle what I saw. At times, neither could I.

“Never heard of her.”

“Do you know many seers?” was my sarcastic retort.

“A few.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Some better than others. I can put you in touch with them if you’re interested.”

“That would be awesome.” For a brief second, my lips curved in a smile, only for me to realize his plot. “Stop being so helpful. I swear it’s like you’re purposely trying to make my vision come true.”

“The future isn’t set in stone,” John insisted.

“Some things are,” I muttered. “I should have never said anything.” Blame the fact I’d been bombarded with visions of paths since the portal opened. It made me weak.

“Too late to take it back now, but tell you what… Since you feel that strongly about it, then I won’t push. However, I am more than willing to aid you in finding the information you need to rein in your power.”

With that offer, he left me alone to hug myself and wish he was a rude prick. Why did he have to be so nice? Despite what John claimed, I knew Death’s method of claiming him had to do with me. I caused it somehow.

At the same time, could I handle this increased ability on my own? Until now, the Grae triplets did everything together. But not this time. Now that the magical bond that tied us together had been severed, I didn’t have to involve them, and a nagging sense of doom gripped me coldly when I thought of asking them to help. They would say yes because they loved me, but if being involved with me caused John’s death, then what if, by relying on them, I transferred that fate? I couldn’t live with myself if I killed my sisters.

Once more I lamented the fact that seeing the future wasn’t a gift or a blessing like Mom claimed, but a curse. Because it didn’t come with an instruction manual—i.e., do this and avert madness while saving everyone I cared about.

I’d yet to find an answer to my dilemma by the time we docked that night at a busy city in Mexico. Puerto Vallarta, a tourist town that never slept. Our group disembarked the yacht and booked into a hotel, a nice place that managed to accommodate our request for four bedrooms on the same floor. Privacy, at last, after having spent several days sharing a space with Dina.

I made it a point to refuse to go out for dinner and drinks with the gang. I couldn’t do people anymore. Alas, the room didn’t provide a quiet refuge. Everything I touched showed me the futures of strangers who’d pass through after me, the bed being the worse. People fucking and picking their noses and puking on the sheets.

I had my eyes shut tight, hands tucked under my armpits, but it didn’t help. My flashes were the worst I’d ever dealt with. Breathing exercises, meditation, nothing blocked the nonstop signals. I sat on a tiny patch of carpet usually hidden under a chair with the most boring future of being unused because of its spot. I rocked and hummed, trying to ignore all the possibilities screaming to be heard.

Blame my mental state for the fact I didn’t realize someone entered my room. My head only lifted at the sound of a thump followed by cursing in Spanish as the intruder bumped into the chair I’d shifted.

Before I could scream, they pounced.

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Book Cover: Dragon's Belle
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Part of the Magic, Fur and Claws series:
  • Broomstick Breakdown
  • Dragon’s Belle

Dragons and witches aren’t supposed to mix, but love doesn’t care.


Clarabelle’s been tasked by her coven to look into the disappearance of some witches. During the course of her investigation, she saves a man.

Not just any man, a dragon.

Dracin can’t believe that, in his most embarrassing moment, he is rescued by a woman his beast insists is their mate. A tiny but fiery witch who makes him want more than his lonely existence.
Love should be simple, but between a coven that strongly disapproves and vampires determined to harm them, they’ll have to fight for their happily ever after.
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Published: 2024-02-01
Cover Artists:
Atra Luna's Book Cover and Logo Art
Genres:
dragon romance, fated mates, Paranormal Romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter One

“On to the next order of business. Changing our broom supplier.”

A very bored Clarabelle wanted to scream. The quarterly Colony Coven meeting was tedious, as usual. At times, Clarabelle wondered if she’d gotten stuck in a witchy version of Groundhog Day. Without even trying, she could have predicted the subjects they would cover, because they never seemed to change much.

First on the agenda, dwindling recruitment numbers. Today’s witches lacked interest in joining a coven with restrictive rules, even though those laws were in place for their protection. Not even the temptation of real power could draw them in. Gone were the days when most witches worshipped the Lord of Hades. Now, new wave, crystal-loving wannabe witches fell in with the Wiccans, who had been making a comeback.

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Item two on the quarterly docket, the All Hallows’ Eve committee needed volunteers to ensure the yearly bonfire and ensuing orgy with Satan went smoothly. The Dark Lord did so hate it when he didn’t get at least one virgin to deflower. Never mind the fact that, in these modern times, virgins who made it to adulthood were a rarity.

Three, the coven coffers could use some replenishing. Bribing officials to look the other way when they almost burned down the forest didn’t come cheap. It didn’t matter the bonfire happened on private land. Eco warriors had been trying to get their old and sacred forest declared a historical site, complete with a permanent fire ban put in place.

Which led to number four, should they be hexing those annoying climate change twats? Bonfires weren’t their only target. They had a long list of causes they fought for that would affect the coven’s way of life. No witch wanted to see their gas stove banned. Cauldron cooking on an electric range just didn’t work the same.

Five—

“Are we boring you, Clarabelle?” The rebuke from Marjorie, current Coven Witch Superior dragged her attention back to the meeting at hand.

“Uh, sorry. Just thinking of the ride home. Forecast says rain.” She’d not checked before leaving on her broom.

“Afraid you’ll melt like your great-aunt?” mocked Jezebel. Then mimicked the famous line from the movie in a high-pitched voice, “I’m melting!”

“You know it was a badly cast rain-repelling spell that caused my aunt to die most horribly,” Clarabelle stated primly. “And you shouldn’t talk. With the amount of makeup you’re wearing, once you get wet, you’ll be lucky if you’re not mistaken for a ghoul.”

“Why you—”

“Daughters, that’s quite enough.” Marjorie’s firm tone quieted them both.

Clarabelle could have kicked herself for rising to Jezebel’s bait. “Sorry, Witch Superior,” she mumbled, even as she plotted revenge on Jezebel. The kind that couldn’t be traced to her. Their rivalry began in college and never stopped. Perhaps a hex on Jezebel’s favorite mascara? She’d read about one that turned eyelashes into wiggling spider legs.

“Seeing as how these meetings bore you, I have a task you can concentrate on. Two actually. Jezebel, you’ll be travelling to New York for Comicon with the aim of recruiting prospects.”

“Me? Why not her?” Jezebel jabbed a finger at Clarabelle.

“Because she is going to be investigating the suspicious disappearances of some witches in Ottawa, Canada.”

“Canada, as in the frozen wasteland north of us?” Jezebel snickered, whereas Clarabelle held in a sigh. She wasn’t about to point out that Ottawa pretty much had the same weather as New York because she didn’t want to piss off Marjorie, given the task sounded interesting. She’d not done anything of any note in months unless a pregnant hippo—by a drunk ogre—counted. He’d claimed he thought it was his wife. Said wife got offended seeing as how her girth was at least double that of the pregnant zoo animal.

Marjorie didn’t let Jezebel’s taunting pass. “Maybe you’re not the best person to send given your ignorance of simple geography. Do better or the next time you open your mouth to bray something stupid, I’ll turn you into a donkey.”

Ouch.

With that rebuke, the meeting ended, but Marjorie signaled for Clarabelle to remain behind.

She slid a folder over to Clarabelle, saying, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the rest of the coven, but you should know there might be danger.”

“You think the disappearances are linked to foul play?”

“It seems most likely, seeing as how it’s not just witches reported missing. We also have received reports of numerous werewolves losing touch with the local pack, as well as a half-elf, and a gargoyle. And those are just the ones we know of.”

“We’re sure they didn’t relocate?” Clarabelle questioned.

“Without taking a single thing with them?”

“Any clues as to why anyone would want to harm or take them?”

Marjorie shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I mean, if this were the Dark Ages, I’d suspect witch hunters, but with the wolves and others… It could be anything.”

“You don’t think it’s the government, do you?” A fear held by non-humans everywhere. It didn’t help that Hollywood movies and shows like Stranger Things and blockbuster books like Firestarter, always had those with special powers being studied and dissected in the name of science and national security.

“My sources inside the various agencies haven’t heard anything, but it’s a possibility. Think you can handle it?”

“No worries. I’ll figure it out.”

A cocky claim that proved harder to achieve than expected. For one, Ottawa sprawled over quite a distance. Two, the local pack refused to meet with her, citing they didn’t like to deal with outsiders. At least the Ottawa Coven agreed to talk with her. Not exactly surprising since they were the ones to notify Colony Coven—the main coven that ruled over the rest in North America—of the disappearances of their members.

Clarabelle met them in a Starbucks of all places, the witches each sipping a different foamy brew. Five women in total, ranging in age with one thing in common; a weak affinity for magic. They eyed Clarabelle with curiosity.

The oldest of them greeted her first. “Hi, I’m Jewel, and these are my sisters, Kandy, Gertrude, Nelly, and Fiona.”

Seeing as how Jewel hadn’t done anything to protect their conversation, Clarabelle flicked her hands quickly to settle a dome of privacy over them, which widened some eyes. “Hello, I’m Clarabelle Montgomery, Colony Coven attaché. Sorry to meet you under such circumstances.”

“Thanks for coming. We didn’t know what else to do,” Jewel apologized.

“You did the right thing. Can anyone tell me anything about the missing witches?” Clarabelle asked.

The youngest of the group, Kandy, with enough piercings to make Clarabelle leery of her spell-casting, given metal distorted, had a theory. “Maybe Felicia and Molly ran off together because they’re in love.”

“With none of their things?” scoffed Fiona, whose fiery red hair didn’t come naturally.

Kandy didn’t seem daunted by her retort. “Minimalist living is a growing trend.”

Before Fiona could mock the girl, Gertrude, with her gray hair pinned in a chignon, snorted. “Don’t be an idiot and stop sniffing so much toad juice. They disappeared a month apart, and you know damned well Felicia was engaged to that lawyer in the Glebe.”

“Only the two gone?” Clarabelle clarified.

“We thought there was a third, but Gloria, unlike the others, cleared out her apartment. Most likely she joined another group. Not a big loss. She lacked a willingness to follow the rules,” explained Jewel.

“Did they mention anything suspicious? Maybe someone following them? Emails? Texts?”

The women shook their heads.

The shyest member, Nelly, from behind her long bangs, whispered, “Do you think we’re in danger?”

Much as she wanted to reassure, Clarabelle remained honest. “Until we know what’s going on, you might want to take precautions. Don’t go anywhere by yourself. Report anything that seems odd. Put protection spells on your doors and windows. Check-in with each other often.”

Not the news they wanted to hear. The meeting broke up not long after, and Clarabelle found herself musing on what she’d learned. Not much other than it felt like foul play. Women, even witches, didn’t disappear without packing at least a bag. As she walked back to her hotel, while deep in thought, she still paid attention to her surroundings and immediately felt it when someone started to stare.

Rather than turn around to peek, she cast a spell of surveillance on the clip holding her hair back. It recorded what it saw and she watched it once she returned to her hotel, which turned out to not be as interesting as expected. The replay showed some big blond dude staring after her before heading into a bar.

Just in case, she stored his image. After all, if witches were being targeted then she could be next.

Chapter Two

With his head pounding painfully, Dracin woke inside a cage.

A fucking cage!

He had no one to blame but himself. Dracin had come into the city to pick up a part for his truck. He’d been heading back to said vehicle when his attention got distracted by an interesting scent. The intriguing odor had him staring at a woman, trim and petite, her hair drawn back with a barrette. She strode with brisk confidence, not once turning to look, despite his rude interest.

Run after her, his inner beast demanded, but instead of stalking a stranger, he chose to distract himself by getting a drink. Dracin didn’t have that many, just a few shots of burning whiskey that should have barely given him a buzz, yet he’d staggered out of that bar into the night, wavering on his feet, seeing double.

Had someone roofied him? Possible, given he’d been elbow to elbow with strangers. And he had turned from his drink at one point to look over at the commotion caused by two guys arguing loudly. Had something been slipped in at that point?

Didn’t matter. He’d planned to sleep it off in his truck. A plan that failed, seeing as how some assholes jumped him as he was passing out in an alley on his way to the parking lot.

Four of them. It should have been a cakewalk to beat their asses, only Dracin’s reflexes were slow. His vision blurry. He’d swiped and missed. Bad luck seeing as one of his assailants got him in the face with a water balloon that exploded. Dracin roared in rage, ready to beat some ass, only his beast couldn’t emerge.

The balloon held some kind of sleeping drug. The bastards came prepared.

Dracin passed out, and the result? He woke up in a fucking cage.

Not for long.

A grab of the bars sent him reeling and hissing; the skin on his fingers blistering right away. The electricity coursing through the enclosure holding him made it clear someone didn’t want him to break out.

Joke was on them. Dracin just had to shift, and he’d be out of here. He might be fragile in this, his human form, but his beast? A lot tougher.

Wake up. He tried rousing his inner animal, to no avail. Whatever they’d drugged him with lingered in his system.

Goddammit!

Once he escaped, someone would pay. I am going to eat whoever is responsible.

If he escaped…

He had no choice. He’d not lived this long to die so ignobly.

Maybe he could shock his beast out of its sleep. He threw himself at the bars and held on tight, the current jolting his body hard enough he blacked out. He regained consciousness to find himself drooling on the floor. Of course at his most humiliated moment would be when his captor showed up to be annoying.

“Rise and shine, buttercup. Let’s get a closer look at what my lackeys dragged in.” The fellow who spoke wore a suit and had slicked-back hair. Young, but with the attitude of someone much older.

Finally, someone to direct his anger at. Dracin rose, seething at the sight of the man before him. Not just a man. A sniff had him frowning. “What are you?” Because he’d never smelled anything like the guy before.

“I’m insulted you don’t know.” The man flashed some fangs. “Does this help?

A fucking vampire? “Is that supposed to impress me? Mine are bigger, and if you don’t want your first and last sight of them to be when I bite you in half, then you’ll release me at once, bloodsucker.”

“Is that any way to talk to the guy in charge of your fresh meat?”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he stated, not that he planned to let the fucker off easy. Hell no. He’d make him regret ever daring to think he could cage Dracin.

“Whine all you like. I’m not letting you go. I’ve got plans for you.”

“Fuck your plans.”

The vampire shook his head. “Terrible manners. But those can be beaten into you. And speaking of manners, where are mine? I’m Theodore, and you are?”

“Going to make you regret your life choices.”

“So fiery. What fun I’ll have breaking you, Dracin Smith. Interesting first name, by the way. Unique. Yet, oddly, there is little known about you. A good thing we have your wallet, or we might have never even gotten that much.”

“What do you want?”

“What does anyone want in this world? Money. Lots of it.”

“Well, you kidnapped the wrong guy then.”

The vamp chuckled. “Oh, you’re hilarious. Who knew dragons could be so entertaining?”

The fucker knew Dracin’s shifter side. That didn’t bode well. People often assumed the stories of dragons having invaluable hoards were true. Dracin wished. His single mom had done her best to raise him, but they’d gone without quite often. Even now, he didn’t have much. He worked and made only enough to pay his bills.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dracin lied.

“Don’t be shy. I have to admit to being delighted my lackeys found you. When they told me they found a strange-smelling shifter, I thought you just needed a bath. But the moment I got a whiff, I knew. You’re not the first one I’ve ever met. Alas, your predecessor escaped. My fault. I wasn’t as prepared the last time. I’ve improved my methods since.” Spoken with a smile that would have done a shark proud.

“You’re wasting your time. I’m not rich.”

“Oh. I’m aware you’re not. Living in a shack outside of the city. Driving a beat-up truck. You really make dragons look bad.”

“Listen. you pompous asshole—”

“No, you listen,” Theodore hissed, drawing close. “Here is what’s going to happen. You’re going to get cleaned up because I’ve got buyers coming. People interested in owning their very own dragon. AKA you.”

“You would enslave me?” He couldn’t help the shocked reply.

“That depends on your new owner,” Theodore declared with a shrug. “Once they buy you, it’s up to them what they do. Chain you up, set you free, fuck you, hunt you, that’s really up to them to decide once they pay.”

His beast chose that moment to drowsily awake and growl, a low, inhuman sound.

The vamp grinned. “Seems like the drugs are wearing off. Good. The buyers will want to see what they’re bidding on.”

“I’m going to eat you.” He would, even though he could tell by the smell that vampire meat would taste bad.

“So bloodthirsty. I like it. I totally understand. I want to eat everyone who annoys me too. A good thing I don’t, or I’d have no one left to work for me.” Theodore offered a toothy grin.

Dracin had heard enough. With his beast awake, time to blow this joint. “Last chance to run, asshole.” He called on his dragon. Only nothing happened.

“Uh-oh, is someone having a problem shifting? This is probably a good time to mention the device we implanted. It’s the newest technology in controlling pets. With the press of a button inside this handy app, I can… You know what, how about I show you?” The vamp held out his phone and tapped the screen.

Instant agony hit and dropped Dracin to his knees. Holy fucking pain.

“Oops. Does that hurt? Good. That’s the punishment setting. It has different levels, and even better, the app can be programmed to accept voice commands from your owner so as to prevent accidents. We implemented it after the incident where a pet knocked the phone out of its owner’s hands and before he could recover it, well… Let’s just say he didn’t survive. I’m proud to reveal we’ve improved on it since then.” Theodore sounded so pleased.

Dracin’s stomach plummeted. “You fucker…”

“Is that an invitation? Alas, I have to refuse. I learned the last time I had a dragon in my grips that your blood is quite foul. Really disgusting.” Theodore made a moue. “Pity. I’ll bet you’d have made an excellent blood slave. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve much to do to get ready for the auction. Already there is much interest, and I am expecting a rather large crowd. I can’t wait to see the bidding. Just so you know, potential buyers will be popping by for a peek. Try being nice to the ones that appeal. Or stay feisty. Up to you. I know a few that prefer a savage to make things interesting whether it be for fighting or sex.”

Dracin growled, but the unimpressed vamp waggled his fingers and left.

Fucking dick. When he got out…

More like if.

Dracin took stock of the situation. Outside his cage he noticed two more, smaller and empty. Only his had a thick wire running across the floor. A glance overhead showed his enclosure stood ten feet tall, big enough for him to shift if that fucker hadn’t done something to prevent it.

The damp concrete floor hinted of mildew but, more annoying, the pungent aroma and noticeable lumps of rat scat. It reminded him of the shitholes he grew up in, the things he’d done to survive. He’d promised himself he’d never eat rat again. He really hoped he didn’t have to break that promise.

The basement had no windows but did have a few pillars and the remnants of faint lines on the floor. An abandoned parking garage, making it unlikely anyone would hear or find him. A human-sized door marked the exit on one side, and on the other, a ramp that angled upward and around a corner finished off the space. Nothing useful.

Next, he did a check of his belongings and body. He wore his clothes but lacked his phone and wallet. Though he appeared uninjured, the implant concerned him. He ran his hands over his flesh, seeing if he could find the entrance wound, but there was none. His shifter healing patched him up too damned fast.

He had to find the device being used to control him. Only how? He palpated his flesh to no avail.

Hungry. His dragon didn’t seem to care they were in a cage with no food. It eyed the rat that boldly crept into view.

No, Dracin replied.

Hungry. A plaintive demand.

“I said fucking no,” Dracin snapped, which led to his big bad beast sulking, which didn’t help his pounding head.

An urge to piss left him eyeing the bucket left for him and gave him an idea. While he really wanted to whizz on the bars, he remembered a Darwin award given to a dude who’d gotten drunk, climbed some kind of electrical pole, and let loose on the wire. He died because electricity and urine didn’t play well together.

He could still use that knowledge, but, being a smart guy, Dracin filled the bucket instead. The pungent smell made him grimace. This had better work. Being careful to hold only the plastic parts of his bucket, he poured his piss on the bars then stood back while it sizzled and popped. The lights flickered. He knew his plan worked when the humming stopped.

Next problem, the bars.

He grabbed hold and pulled. They didn’t budge. He’d kind of expected that.

“All right, big guy, your turn to try.”

The sulking dragon within instantly perked up. Surely the device couldn’t control the shift as the vampire boasted. Most likely the drugs still affected him, but if he tried hard enough, his beast could break through. It had to.

Dracin closed his eyes as his beast began to surge and—

He woke on the floor, head pounding worse than before, not improved by his whimpering dragon.

It was true. The fucking implant and not lingering drugs impeded his ability to shift.

“Corpse fucker! Argh!” Dracin yelled, unable to quell his frustration.

If he couldn’t escape, he was well and truly screwed. No one would come to the rescue. Dracin took living a solitary life quite seriously. Hardly any friends. No family since Mom died ages ago. Just him. And now that he found himself truly alone, he kind of regretted that choice. Then again, friendships weren’t exactly easy to make for a guy like him. The werewolves had their packs and tended to not socialize outside them. Other non-humans, while rare, tended to steer clear of him. He blamed Hollywood for making them think dragons ate everyone who got close—as if they could compare to a tender hunk of beef. Of course, when it came to humans, he’d yet to meet one he didn’t want to eat after a while. Hmm, maybe Hollywood wasn’t entirely far off.

Forget a girlfriend. Dracin fucked only when he really got tired of his hand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women, just that, after sex, he tended to eye them and think, not the one. As if there was someone for an ornery bastard like him.

The melancholy roused his annoyance, and Dracin yanked once more on the bars, only to bellow as they sizzled his flesh again. They’d reset the breaker while he was passed out.

“You fucking bastard. I am going to hunt your scrawny ass. I will pluck out your eyes like grapes. Remove your head and shove it up your ass. Come here and face me, you coward.” At least give him a chance to fight.

No one replied to his challenge.

For the first time since he’d escaped the poverty that plagued his childhood, Dracin felt despair. The digging fingers of dread gripped him tight, urging him to give up hope.

But he refused to yield.

He’d not given up when lying on the ground, cold and hungry.

He’d not given up when, as a small and ill-dressed boy, he gotten beaten up.

He’d not given up when his mother, the only person he’d ever loved, died in a hit-and-run.

No. He’d clawed his way out of poverty. He’d gotten his revenge on those who hurt him. Found the fucker who murdered his mom and had him arrested.

He’d find a way out of this clusterfuck too.

In the meantime, he had to survive. But forget playing nice.

When Theodore returned later that day, bringing the first of the clients, Dracin ignored them. Chose pain over doing tricks.

No, he would not shift.

No, he wouldn’t play their game.

And so he suffered.

And waited.

Waited for his chance to escape.

COLLAPSE
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Broomstick Breakdown

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Book Cover: Broomstick Breakdown
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Part of the Magic, Fur and Claws series:
  • Broomstick Breakdown
  • Dragon’s Belle

A malfunctioning broom leads to romance of the furry kind.

Sophia is on her way to her first Halloween gathering for witches when her broomstick breaks down. Luckily, she lands at a garage where a hunky mechanic, after a spell of persuasion, agrees to act as chauffeur.

Aidan is more than just a sexy driver though. As a wolf shapeshifter, magic doesn’t affect him, but he’s not immune to the powerful draw of his true mate. Mating should be simple, but he didn’t count on a stubborn witch making abduction his only option.

With the factions they belong to discouraging mixed species mating, will they find love like fate intended?

*Expanded version published in April 2023.

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Published: 2010-10-15
Genres:
Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Shapeshifter Romance, werewolf romance, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
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