Haunted by insurmountable grief, the nearly indestructible Susie Drake
temporarily sacrifices all memories of her human friends. Unbeknownst to
her, Ren Pith, a semi-immortal plagued by seizures and OCD, snatches her
remembrances in pursuit of a time traveler, with the hope of rewriting the
past.
Meanwhile, recruited by the grandchildren of her forgotten friends, Susie
confronts a murder investigation intertwined with her purloined past and
teams up with a private eye to unravel a perplexing link between her stolen
recollections and a man who taunted her nearly a century prior. Racing
against the possibility of total memory loss, Susie and the detective
navigate time and space to follow a lead and venture into the future of an
alternate Earth.
Susie’s quest intertwines self-discovery, justice, and a high-stakes
race into a tangled web bridging past, present, and parallel worlds.
Crown of Wings and Thorns Mary Ting Publication date: April 4th 2024 Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Romance
A fight for a throne that will rewrite history
The demon King Asmodeus has taken over the mortal world. The Order of Angel warriors have a mission to take him down, but many have died or joined the enemy. When Evangeline’s team is ensnared in a web of deception, she has no choice but to form an alliance with King Victus, a vampire ruler with a reputation for killing angels. Can the two set aside the past and take down Asmodeus? Or will they turn on each other first?
Michael is a half-breed angel who wants no part of the nonhuman world. However, his immense power makes him a target. King Asmodeus wants him to join his army, and so does Order of Angels, but Michael dreams of settling down, not going to war. He may not have a choice. When his family’s lives are at stake, he’ll have to pick a side or lose everything.
There is also an APP GAME on Dorian-release April 4th!
—
EXCERPT:
I’d heard tales that vampires had an uncanny ability to beguile their prey. Their attractive faces and bewitching scent, partnered with their commanding voices entranced victims, making them do whatever was asked of them.
He must be using the same supernatural powers to captivate me. Despite his effort, I prevailed and pushed the horrendous thought to the far recesses of my mind.
“Never in peace.” He growled, his hot breath fanned the shell of my ear. “You are my enemy.”
“Fine. You want to die here, right now?” I gritted the words through my teeth as I slowly released my feathers, my chest rising and falling just as fast as his.
He made the mistake of pulling back just enough for his eyes to lock with mine. I pushed off with the strength of my feathers, taking him with me. His back thumped the opposite wall and I trapped him with my body and wings.
Victus’s eyes grew wide, stunned. With an ear-piercing snarl, his feet tangled with mine to launch us into a wild spin, and then he pushed me against the wall with such force that all of the air was knocked from my lungs with an oomph.
“I loathe your kind,” he hissed, baring his teeth.
“And I despise everything about you.” I clenched my jaw.
“My hatred for you is greater.” The tendrils under his eyes throbbed.
We were thrown into a battle of push and shove, taking turns on who would be on top of our chaotic tumbling until we eventually stopped at the opposite end of the room, panting.
With my back to the wall, he took a fistful of my hair and yanked my head to the side, exposing my neck. His hot breath and his sharp fangs grazed down my skin.
I shuddered and every vein in my body seared. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or from the heated tussle and our bodies colliding.
“If you believe I’m your enemy, then bite me.” I took a chance by saying the latter. Since he found me revolting, he would likely release me.
He gripped my hair tighter and snarled
Author Bio:
Born in Seoul, Korea, author Mary Ting is an international bestselling, multi-gold award winning author. Her books span a wide range of genres, and her storytelling talents have earned a devoted legion of fans, as well as garnered critical praise. She is a diverse voice who writes diverse characters, often dealing with a catastrophic world.
Becoming an author happened by chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother and inspired by a dream she had in high school. After realizing she wanted to become a full-time author, Mary retired from teaching. She also had the privilege of touring with the Magic Johnson Foundation to promote literacy and her children’s chapter book: No Bullies Allowed.
In a twist of fate, these angels have done the unforgivable and have been
kicked out. Some are left to roam freely while they plot their revenge. Some
are immediately given a new job as a form of punishment. Some are even
innocent and try to prove it themselves. But can any of them find their new
purpose in the end?
Featuring stories by Michael Paige, Matthew Fryer, Bruno Lombardi, Barend
Nieuwstraten III, Kelly Barker, A.E. Lowan, C.L. Hart, and J.E.
Feldman.
Of Outer Gods and Fallen Angels by C.L. Hart
Story Genre
Lovecraftian Fantasy, Judeo-Christian Mythology,
Tropes
Friendship, Lost Love, Reincarnation
Gerry Clifford appears to be simply a small, frail older man who has fallen
victim to early-onset dementia.
Yadira Root appears to be an impossibly ancient woman who volunteers her
time at the care center where people like Gerry live out their final
days.
A conversation between the pair reveals unexpected truths about both of
them.
Excerpt
For eons, I have been looking for a way to right the wrongs committed at
the time of my birth. I have once again encountered Malak, son of Lucifer;
he with his heart burst open like a snowdrop’s pouting petals.
However, to my dismay, Malak, the world-builder and shadow-weaver, has
forgotten who he was. He is bound to a broken, dying body, although at
night, his soul roams free.
In our first meeting at the care center where he now resides, I approached
Malak cautiously, unsure of how he would respond to my presence. Bewildered
disorientation had replaced the once alert, inquisitive look in his eyes.
Like a spark struggling to ignite, I noted a faint glimmer of recognition,
but it was obscured by the murk of confusion overtaking his decaying
memory.
“Malak,” I said softly as I took his hands in mine. “It’s
your old friend Yadira. Do you remember who you once were? World-builder,
shadow weaver, beloved son of Lucifer.”
It was evident from his expression that his mind was seeking an elusive
memory. A longing for understanding replaced his puzzlement.
“Who… who am I?” he mumbled, his voice feeble and uncertain.
“I feel like fragments of a shattered mirror, lost in a labyrinth of
forgotten dreams.”
A pang of sympathy pierced my heart. Seeing this brilliant being trapped in
a decaying vessel, his bright, inquisitive soul longing for release, was
tragic. I took his trembling hand in mine, hoping my touch would serve as an
anchor, reconnecting him to his forgotten self.
“Malak, you were once a weaver of worlds, a creator of infinite
possibilities,” I explained. “Your mind held the secrets of the
cosmos, and your hands shaped realms beyond imagination.”
Despite the fragility of his body, a spark of ancient power flickered
within him as he struggled to break free from the fog of
forgetfulness.
“I remember whispers of worlds born from the rhythm of my
thoughts,” he murmured. “Visions of beauty and darkness once
flowed through me like a river of eternal creation.”
I continued to paint a picture of his former existence, hoping to unleash
the dormant power lying buried deep within.
“Malak, reclaim your identity,” I urged. “I will help you
mend the fractures in your soul, reuniting the shattered fragments, and
restoring the balance disrupted long ago. The broken body that confines you
is insignificant compared to the boundless potential within. The key to
redemption and rectification lies in you. Please assist me in redressing the
wrongs of the past. With you healed and my parents reunited, we will forge a
future where your power, reclaimed and revitalized, can help restore balance
to the cosmos.”
About the Author
C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is
spoken of in hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the
Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That
Should Not Be.
When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian
fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to
upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes
will be considered palatable.
Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult
son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early
Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be
found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch
horrors.
A Burden of Ice and Bone Kyra Whitton Publication date: April 16th 2024 Genres: Adult, Fantasy
A tale of courage, love, and self-discovery in a frozen kingdom, perfect for fans of Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik.
Everything Dira Cloon loves, and all she has ever learned in her village of ice and darkness, depends upon her pulling the trigger. But something about the white bear shakes her aim. It’s stronger than her love for her family who believe the only safe polar bear is a dead one. It’s deeper than the village legends of a lost world, a vanished civilization, and the whispered magic of an ursine king. It’s more broken, more alone, than Dira’s own heart. If she pulls the trigger, the life she knows will take her back, the cost a piece of herself and her dreams. But if she puts down the gun and follows the bear into a vast, frozen kingdom of snow, she may change her people and their lust for blood. And for herself, find a cursed life more beautiful than the one she leaves behind.
Kyra’s been a hopeless romantic since she was three years old and obsessed with Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. She read her first romance novel at eleven and was determined to write one of her own as soon as she put it down. It took another ten years for her to actually finish one, and another ten to see the first, INTO THE OTHERWORLD (2018, The Wild Rose Press), published.
A native of Atlanta, GA, Kyra graduated with her Bachelor of Science degree in History, Technology, and Society from the Georgia Institute of Technology before taking up a position as a university administrator and completing a master’s degree in American Studies with a minor concentration in Creative Writing. But then the real fun began as she joined her husband, a US Army officer, on a journey across the country. Together, they found themselves living in Washington state, Kansas, Virginia, and Kentucky, as well as apart when duty called. She currently resides on Fort Stewart with her husband, their 4 kids, and 2 basset hounds, Eugene Fitzherbert and Flynnigan Ryder.
When she isn’t writing, Kyra loves to bake, watch Ga Tech football, travel, visit Walt Disney World, and research duty stations. But most of all, Kyra loves nothing more than an adventure and is always looking forward to the next one, whether in person or on paper.
The Demon’s Discovery L. Alexander
(The Demon Princes, #2)
Publication date: February 21st 2024
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance
My whole life I’ve been trapped, but fate has provided a way out.
Orphaned.
Hidden.
Rescued by a Demon Prince.
As a child I became the ward of a duke and his wife, but I’m just a servant in the house, not family.
An accidental encounter with one of their most prestigious guests opens the door to a life I hadn’t dared to dream of.
Residence at the Collegium d’Arcan. A family. Freedom.
The handsome mystic arts teacher nurtures not only my talent in alchemy and my confidence … but also my happiness. His protective affection is unwavering, especially after the duke promises my hand to a merchant without my consent.
Delving into my past reveals things that have the demon prince I’m falling for swearing vengeance on my behalf. Our lives are far more intertwined than anyone could have guessed, and nearly nothing is as it seems.
His secrets might be dangerous, but mine could change the fate of a kingdom.
The Demon’s Discovery is a fated mates romance with a cinnamon roll hero, magic, monsters and a guaranteed happily ever after. It’s a full-length novel with no cliffhanger for the couple and is the second book in this series.
Greta ended up with her back pressed against the supplies cabinet, my forearms flat against the glass, her chest heaving and her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at me with wide eyes.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
There was no way to miss the way her eyes tracked my mouth, the way I was steeped in her scent or how my heart kept trying to reach for her directly through my chest. It had been the sweetest torture to spend the day pressed up against her from behind, able to smell her hair and feel the curves of her body line up with the planes of mine. And now, with her dressed in my clothing, after what we’d been through earlier, I hardly had any restraint at all left.
“Greta,” I warned.
“It’s okay. I want …” she swallowed, my eyes following every movement of her throat and the way her tongue dipped out to wet her bottom lip.
I cupped her cheek with one hand, warring with myself as every impulse in my body screamed at me.
Her eyes became glazed, half closed … and I lost all hold on my control.
I dove in like a man starved, plundering her mouth with my own. I swallowed her noises of surprise, growling back as she pressed herself further against me instead of trying to run away.
She tasted like the berries we’d had with lunch, and I marveled at the softness of her body under my hands, my lips. I teased at her bottom lip with one fang, swiping at the tiny droplet of blood I’d made rush to the surface with my tongue as she sucked in a breath. To my great pleasure, she didn’t pull away as a brief collage of her here at the collegium danced across my mind. If anything, she hovered closer, asking for more in the way her eyes lingered half-closed, her hands fisted in my shirt.
“Vassago …” My name was music on her lips, speaking to the darkest parts of me. The neediest.
The most dangerous ones.
“Greta.” I pressed my lips to hers again, but gently, taking my time exploring. I mapped the way her cupid’s bow formed perfect points in her lush upper lip and a tiny scar caused an imperfection in her bottom one. The way she was reaching for me the way I was for her. The way she hesitated, but just barely, when I requested she open for me by swiping along her lips with my tongue. As I drank from her lips she followed my lead, making another of those incendiary sounds.
I lost myself in her, and it was glorious.
Author Bio:
L. Alexander writes Paranormal and Fantasy romance with sweet & spicy cinnamon roll heroes, fated mates, monsters, magic and more. She guarantees a happily ever after no matter what and has a soft spot for broody anime characters.
L. also writes Contemporary Romance under the name Lily Alexander.
The Penance of Valentine Cash Rebecca Rook Publication date: January 16th 2024 Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult
Neil Gaiman’s American Gods meets Jennifer Mason-Black’s Devil and the Bluebird in this modern adaptation of the Greek legend The Twelve Labors of Hercules for young adult fantasy readers.
Valentine Cash is dead.
When she dies in an accidental collision she caused on the cusp of musical fame, Valentine is offered a deal: Complete a series of difficult tasks to get her life back. Fail, and she dies a final, everlasting death. Guided by Route 66 the Mother Road of America on her quest, she tackles one herculean task after another, giving up a piece of herself with each trial.
Valentine begins to understand that the fame she once sought won’t bring her happiness or belonging – and if she fulfills the penance, she must decide what’s more important: Her old life or restoring the lives of the strangers who died alongside her.
The young and the ancient, the tangible and the mythical, collide as Valentine learns the true meaning of redemption, connection, and the enduring power of the human spirit.
They were all large, dressed in furs, leathers, and thick boots. The men had thick beards and braids; the women either wore braids or had shorn hair. All of them wore armor of some kind, with runic designs upon their crests. Ghost green flames danced and kissed across their skin. As Valentine watched, she saw that their skin flickered and faded in the moonlight, alternately translucent and opaque. During the translucent phases, she saw their skeletons underneath.
She shivered.
Then, beyond the Huntsmen, she saw the mounts.
They were stunning.
Each horse shimmered, dressed in golds and silvers, blues and violets, coppers and moonlight. They were enormous, with hooves the size of dinner plates and lush manes that draped across the starlit skin. Valentine watched as they huffed, stamped their feet, and half-reared. They were ready, she could tell. They wanted to hunt, to chase.
She heard Malcolm’s prosaic voice in her head. Choose the smallest mount.
Valentine scanned the herd. There.
The smallest mount glowed like a golden fire in the moonlight, with a silver mane. Compared to the others, this one was dainty, almost delicate. Valentine cast a quick glance at the Huntsmen, then started forward, crouching low to avoid notice. As she moved forward, she draped the bridle over her shoulder, then pulled out the packet of frankincense and myrrh. She poured it into her hands, then crept forward. She stopped before the golden creature, a good six feet away. Though this mount was smaller than the others, it was by no means tiny.
When Valentine stilled, the horse raised her head.
What do you want, mortal? The voice sounded like a crack of lightning in her head. The eyes glowed with violet flame.
Author Bio:
Rebecca Rook designs tabletop games, manages a little free library dedicated to sequential art and comics, and lives in the Pacific Northwest with two wonderful dogs. She writes young adult fiction in the fantasy, thriller, and horror genres.
A 2021-2022 Hugo House Fellow in
Seattle, WA, she also attended the 2021 Tin House YA Fiction Workshop in
Portland, OR. Rebecca was selected as one of the 100 invited writers to participate in the Write Team Mentorship Program’s curated Pitch-a-Thon event before being chosen as a Mentee for the 2021 Program. Prior to this, she completed the wonderful Yearlong Workshop for Young Adult and Middle Grade Fiction at Hugo House.
The red dragon full of chaos fire magic must serve the human mages for
seventy years.
Leslie Μάγος
Orphaned human child of slaves, sold to the Magesterium to train as a mage,
and paired with a fire dragon.
Ruven Σκιά
Shadow assassin elf turned tracker with a hellhound who eats the
undead.
Heista Νεκρός
An undead priest risen and controlled by the most powerful
necromancer
Tiamat is a demon god from Earth now banished to a world full of magic and
dragon. Lucky for him, his dragon form is a six-headed dragon. The magic
here is not like on Earth, it comes from dragons, not from souls.
To be a god on this world, he must learn how to harness the power of the
dragons. So, pretending to be less than he is, he joins the Magesterium to
train as a mage. He masters this ability easily but is paired with a dragon
who was once a human. Her dragon mate has died and if he doesn’t pair
with her, the other dragons will kill her.
Her magic is weak, but Tiamat can fix that. He can show this world that the
dragons banished from their clans can find a new purpose, just like him.
Until his past catches up and demons from Earth arrive to take a soul from
Tiamat that they feel is theirs. Turns out, necromancy is easy to do on this
world and the other demons have no qualms about using it.
To defeat the other demons, Tiamat must give up the new life he’s
found, and become the god he was destined to be.
This story is told from multiple viewpoints and is available in both an
all-ages friendly adaptation (Mage & Magic) and the original (Mages and
Mates) which has a heavier focus on romance.
The heat was gone. It crept into his bones, waking him from the fuzz of slumber he’d enjoyed for too short of time. To survive, he needed to wake. His limbs, weak from sleep and not yet as formed as they should be, pressed against the shell. Even unborn, cradled in his egg, he knew this. He needed to break free and find new heat. He pushed harder, uncoiling his body and using his length to push against the unrelenting shell.
A small crack formed, and the chill of fresh air seeped in. He wanted to recoil and hide, thinking perhaps death would be welcoming. It might be warmer there. His world was unsteady and rocked. He was not in his nest. In one sudden thrust, pushed his neck up and flicked the top of the shell off. The oxygen of the air around him reached him. The elements in the air combined with his internal combustion and flames skittered down his back.
He was in a boat, nestled against three other eggs in a basket. The thief rowed the narrow canoe quietly in the darkness of night. Though the hatchling knew little, he knew this man had stolen him. He was not his mother, the dragon, who had kept him warm all these weeks.
His mother would be born of fire, not of cold and dark like this pointy-eared humanoid before him. The dragon slithered out of his shell, shaking off the embryonic fluid. He pressed his tiny paws against the glittering gold egg next to him and sent heat into it. Hoping he wasn’t too late, and his companion was alive.
The boat rocked as it hit the shore. The man stood on his long legs and reached his arms to pick up a burlap bag. He dropped it over the tiny red dragon. His world was cast into darkness, but the man was a fool. The dragon would not be snuffed out, not ever. His eyes blazed, and he exhaled the heat from his core, igniting the bag and setting it aflame. He fell to the sandy beach and watched as the fire spread, burning the boat and darting along the shore to race up the trees.
The eggs by him were consumed, and three more dragons rose, all screaming and writhing, renewed by the warmth of his flame. The thief fell back, patting at the fire that danced on his skin because, unlike the dragons, he could not tolerate it.
The red dragon sprang at the man. His teeth bit into his wrist. Though he was small, his fangs excreted a toxin that would burn and scar. If he were larger, it would kill the thief. Today, the dragon would be satisfied knowing his prey would forever be marked by him. But he vowed to find the thief and kill him. He would kill all who dared steal from a dragon’s nest. The man fled into the burning forest, screaming as he cradled his injured arm. The flames signaled the dragon’s kin, and their roars could be heard. The tiny red dragon, no bigger than a five-pound house cat, tried his best to answer their call. The three hatchlings with him also cried, but one collapsed from the effort, his breath no longer coming.
The red dragon screamed until his throat hurt. He pleaded for help as their numbers dwindled. Only the gold dragon remained trembling by his side. The other two were lifeless and gone.
Every night he would scream in the darkness. Born of fire. Born of hate. Born knowing no one was coming to save him.
Fantasy Adventure (Adult)
Date of Publication: 1 September 2023
Rojo Siete Φωτιά
The red dragon full of chaos fire magic must serve the human mages for
seventy years.
Leslie Μάγος
Orphaned human child of slaves, sold to the Magesterium to train as a mage,
and paired with a fire dragon.
Ruven Σκιά
Shadow assassin elf turned tracker with a hellhound who eats the
undead.
Heista Νεκρός
An undead priest risen and controlled by the most powerful
necromancer
Tiamat is a demon god from Earth now banished to a world full of magic and
dragon. Lucky for him, his dragon form is a six-headed dragon. The magic
here is not like on Earth, it comes from dragons, not from souls.
To be a god on this world, he must learn how to harness the power of the
dragons. So, pretending to be less than he is, he joins the Magesterium to
train as a mage. He masters this ability easily but is paired with a dragon
who was once a human. Her dragon mate has died and if he doesn’t pair
with her, the other dragons will kill her.
Her magic is weak, but Tiamat can fix that. He can show this world that the
dragons banished from their clans can find a new purpose, just like him.
Until his past catches up and demons from Earth arrive to take a soul from
Tiamat that they feel is theirs. Turns out, necromancy is easy to do on this
world and the other demons have no qualms about using it.
To defeat the other demons, Tiamat must give up the new life he’s
found, and become the god he was destined to be.
This story is told from multiple viewpoints and is available in both an
all-ages friendly adaptation (Mage & Magic) and the original (Mages and
Mates) which has a heavier focus on romance.
Dedicated Goblin Paladin of the Sun Deities, raised as an undead protector
to Tiamat
Gruillie
Καλόγερος
Religious Goblin Monk, fierce warrior, and bound to Mage Tiamat as his
dragon.
Tiamat ψόφιος
Six-headed demon god dragon sworn to protect the inhabitants of this
world.
Neo Νερό
Water Dragon, bound to Mage Peter and entangled with demons.
Goblins have secrets. Their knowledge of science has created the sun
deities and given them the power to harness the holy sun power from another
plane of existence. Their methods of creating the coveted gold is unethical.
Their practices drive a wedge in their alliance to the six-headed demon god
Tiamat and soon elves, humans, dragons, and goblins are divided in who they
will trust in the coming war against the undead.
New mages and dragons become trusted allies, while others are lost. Neo, a
water dragon, despises elves and undead, yet vows to help Tiamat in order to
protect his clan. Olje, a goblin monk, once faithful to Tiamat, shifts his
priorities when an unwitting mage comes into possession of a clutch of
goblin gold. This gold must be acquired and kept safe at all costs, even if
it means asking the elves for help.
This story is told from multiple viewpoints and is available in both an
all-ages friendly adaptation (Mage & Magic) and the original (Mages and
Mates) which has a heavier focus on romance.
Dedicated Goblin Paladin of the Sun Deities, raised as an undead protector
to Tiamat
Gruillie
Καλόγερος
Religious Goblin Monk, fierce warrior, and bound to Mage Tiamat as his
dragon.
Tiamat ψόφιος
Six-headed demon god dragon sworn to protect the inhabitants of this
world.
Neo Νερό
Water Dragon, bound to Mage Peter and entangled with demons.
Goblins have secrets. Their knowledge of science has created the sun
deities and given them the power to harness the holy sun power from another
plane of existence. Their methods of creating the coveted gold is unethical.
Their practices drive a wedge in their alliance to the six-headed demon god
Tiamat and soon elves, humans, dragons, and goblins are divided in who they
will trust in the coming war against the undead.
New mages and dragons become trusted allies, while others are lost. Neo, a
water dragon, despises elves and undead, yet vows to help Tiamat in order to
protect his clan. Olje, a goblin monk, once faithful to Tiamat, shifts his
priorities when an unwitting mage comes into possession of a clutch of
goblin gold. This gold must be acquired and kept safe at all costs, even if
it means asking the elves for help.
This story is told from multiple viewpoints and is available in both an
all-ages friendly adaptation (Mage & Magic) and the original (Mages and
Mates) which has a heavier focus on romance.
Nina Schluntz is a native to rural Nebraska. In her youth, she often wrote
short stories to entertain her friends. Those ideas evolved into the novels
she creates today.
Her husband continues to ensure her stories maintain a touch of realism as
she delves into the science fiction and fantasy realm. Their three cats are
always willing to stay up late to provide inspiration, whether it is a howl
from the stray born in the backyard or an encouraging bite from the so
called “calming kitten.”
Our village was the last to stand against the invasion of the godly folk from the southern kingdoms. With their strange magic of the cross and prayer, they had pushed back the Spirit’s Veil to our border and cleansed the lands of beings that visited humanity through ages past. And it fell to our warriors to hold back the godly folk from destroying the last of that which was sacred. The Veil was the only way our long-dead ancestors could return and bring their stories to our fireside. And
it was through these stories that we kept the history of our lands alive.
The Winter Solstice of my twelfth year started like any other. Come sunset, the Veil would once again part, and would not close again until sunrise. It was to be a long night and the favourite with our family. We spent the day readying the cottage for visitors; sweeping, stocking the fire and keeping it bright and hot, as the visitors were prone to chills. Though they did not eat the food we offered, we still prepared a feast as much as we could in our poverty. Mother decorated everything to hide the meagre affair.
After sunset, my sister and I, scrubbed clean and dressed in our finest dresses, joined our parents by the fireplace. They stood side by side in front of Grandma’s favourite chair, holding hands and smiling.
‘Come children, look who is here,’ Mother exclaimed, forgetting in her excitement that we had not the adult eyes to see the beings from beyond the Veil.
‘It’s grandma,’ Father clarified.
So we went to stand beside our parents, looking down at the empty chair, feeling both chilled and yet secretly foolish. Only a handful of nights each year did the invisible visitors arrive. As I grew older, it was hard not to imagine this must be some game the adults played with their children, each solstice, Spring’s Rise and Eve of Souls.
‘Aye, they have grown since you saw them last summer,’ Mother said to the empty chair.
And we were made to sit on the floor by the fire, as mother and father took their seats at the feat-laden table. Grandma then told us stories, which our parents repeated, for we had not the adult ears to hear the voices of the beings from beyond the Veil.
As the night deepened, the fire flickered suddenly and turned icy blue and cold.
Our parents fell abruptly silent and stared at each other with a flash of fright. Then, with strained faces, they turned to me, and I knew what it meant. Only, I had never truly believed that this night would come for me. Surely this was just a game the adults played. We were meant to smile and eat the cakes and listen to the wise tales.
‘Frost has come,’ Father said gravely, looking at me.
I shook my head in denial. No, I never believed in Frost. That was his name, the changer who opened the eyes of children when they reached the cusp of adulthood. Except, not everyone survived the change. Else, some returned with Frost’s bite upon their toes and fingers. Like Ordur, the baker’s son, who now had only eight fingers left.
Both mother and father rose, for Frost was outside, waiting for me. They led me to the door, dressed as I was for the warm fireplace and not the snow-covered landscape beyond warm walls.
The cold hit me instantly, cutting and laced with threat.
‘Walk to the white tree where Frost is waiting,’ said Mother with a treble to her voice, and closed the door behind me.
Barefooted, I began the walk to the edge of the forest. It was dark, save for the moonlit snow, and the chill in the air was fierce. As I drew closer to the white tree, the air grew colder and colder, until my blood threatened to turn to ice. No one was around.
At the tree, I stopped. A part of me still denied that any of this was real. Surely, I just needed to turn around and return home, for I could no longer feel my legs or arms, and every breath I drew was shards of glass.
Sharp pain exploded in my eyes, and I cried out, closing them tight. Something warm trickled down my cheeks.
Another jarring pain hit my ears, and I fell to my knees.
I forced myself to open my eyes and saw drops of dark blood in the sparkling snow, and … large, furry paws. I followed the furry legs up and I saw him, beneath the tree, looming high above me. The creature was made of ice, with horns and fur and sharp, black teeth. In his thick hands, he clasped two needle-like icicles. Blood dripped from the tips.
He looked at me and I at him. Then he turned around and walked away into the forest.
I returned home, weeping tears and blood.
Mother wrapped me in a blanket and comforted me with kind words. But it was Grandma’s voice I recognised from long ago that soothed me. ‘Bring the wee lass to the fire and give her the hot
apple wine with extra sugar. She’ll be right in no time.’
In the chair sat Grandma, her form faint and glowing.
‘Come over here, lass, and sit next to your sister where I can see you better. Now, where was I? Oh aye, I remember. I was a wee bit younger than you when Frost came for me. It was the winter after the great fire that swept through the forest when the old fool Baerran the Wise offended the Firelord …’
And the rest of the night I listened to my grandma’s old stories, whilst my parents repeated them for my younger sister. And I hoped our warriors would keep the godly folk away from our lands.
The Bridge to Magic
The Sundered Web
Book One
Alex Thornbury
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Shadow Lore Publishing
Date of Publication: 21st February 2023
ISBN: 978-0-6454970-0-7
ASIN: B0B9GCXY5K
Number of pages: 369
Word Count: 105,000
Cover Artist: Alejandro Colucci
Tagline: When only the wrong paths remain, do you walk or get left behind?
Book Description:
An award-winning debut for lovers of traditional fantasy and the readers who crave the dark, disturbing and original.
Men thought they had won the war against magic, when a demi-god had sundered their realm and banished magic and its keepers to the deadlands. But then another terror was born. Nothing can survive the approaching Blight. Terren, the last refuge of mankind, now stands alone in its path. Only the bridge across the great chasm offers any hope of escape… for some.
Elika has long feared the bridge to the Deadlands. It had taken her parents, and the lives of more poor fools than she could count. What’s there for them anyway on the other side but more suffering and death? Though the gods had abandoned them, the king and his priests will stop the Blight. They just need to destroy every echo of magic, the source of the Blight. Then she discovers that the biggest echo of magic is hiding inside her, and through her it seeks to enact the will of its own.
Accused of being a mage, she is hunted and hated. Many doubt her loyalties. Her gang turns against her. The one man she thought she could trust and love, abandons her. Everything she knew about her past shatters, as long-buried secrets about her true birth emerge. Worse still, she may not even be human. She must race to find a way to purge herself from magic’s hold. But as time runs out for the city and her magic only grows in power, can she sacrifice herself to save the last of humanity and all that she loves?
There was a time before the bridge was forged, but those stories had been mostly forgotten. The dark history of that bygone age was now buried in the archives of the priests. Only the echoes of it remained on the tongues of minstrels and drunks. Elika had heard them all and each tale seemed more terrible and
unimaginable than the other.
Those were dismal times of endless wars—men against magic, magic against men. The time when even the storms and rains were at the mercy of magic and its fickle moods. It might snow in the summer, or the hot winds might carry sand upon them, burying entire cities. Honest travelers feared to ride through the
forest, lest the trees attacked them. A farmer might wake up to find his river
flowing the wrong way or dried up altogether. Those days were gone and might
have been forgotten, but for this stark reminder before Elika’s eyes.
And who had not stood before the dark bridge in their last moments, facing that choice they all must one day make?
Like that hoary, old codger in the ale-stained uniform of the city’s Blue Guard who had stood before the bridge for nigh on an hour; unsteady on his legs, his sour breath steaming in the crisp, winter night, drinking deeply of the cheap gin, which was as likely to kill him by morning as what he now faced. He took a long swig out of his bottle as he braced himself for the unknown fate ahead.
Elika sat huddled in the doorway of an abandoned house, watching him, needing to know whether he would reach the other side or die crossing. Her ears filled with the howling winds rising from the great chasm, and she did not need to imagine what he was thinking, staring as he did at the monstrous bridge and the lifeless bank beyond, for she was thinking the same—surely it is better than what
remains at our back. Better than what approaches.
She clutched the cloak tighter around herself against the biting gust of wind trying to rip it from her. She had scavenged the woolen cloak some days ago
from a dead beggar, and it still smelled of his mustiness. She pulled up her
knees to her chest and clamped her icy hands under her arms.
The stone wall was cold at her back. Her breath steamed. She waited and watched the old guard take another wobbly step toward the bridge, seeking courage in his gin-dulled mind. He took another gulp, stared at the empty bottle in surprise, then threw it aside with a foul curse. The bottle hit the frozen ground and
rolled off the edge of their world into the chasm, to fall for eternity in that
endless darkness.
About the Author:
Alex Thornbury is an award-winning author. She grew up in Cheshire UK, and developed deep love of history and fantasy thanks to the many castles she visited as a child. Though she grew up to be an Alchemist by trade, she never stopped fantasising about other worlds, dragons and epic battles.
For as long as Win can remember, she has seen things that no one else can
see, horrific hallucinations that feel nearly real. After a decades-long
parade of visions, Win rarely questions her condition. When the
hallucinations arrive, she simply braces herself and waits for them to pass.
Every other aspect of Win’s life is perfectly ordinary and vaguely
disappointing: a mind-numbing job, mounting debt, and a lackluster social
life.
It all changes for Win in a moment, when a tragic vision brings her face to
face with a stranger who claims Win is more than an ordinary woman, mired in
the ordinary world. Her visions, more than terrifying fantasies, reveal
truths that only she can see, truths that others would do anything to
control. Win’s arcane ability endangers her as much as it empowers
her, and she finds herself hunted by a mysterious force. Her only option is
to leave the life she knows and seek out who she is.
With more questions than answers, Win enters a world where fairy tales and
folklore hide in the lives of everyday people. She must learn to live in the
space between otherworldly dangers and mundane reality. Win must decide
which monsters can be trusted, how she will pay her bills, and what she must
learn about herself to combat an unseen enemy, an enemy whose ambition
threatens the very fabric of reality.
Irreverent and comically dark, Out of the Way Things offers a fantastic
world, filled with mythic beings concealed in the shadows of the ordinary.
Kendall McNutt brings readers into a hyper realistic fantasy that asks us to
consider the possibility that all stories are true and that nothing is
impossible.
About the Author
Kendall McNutt is a story enthusiast from way back. She has been authoring
stories since she could hold a pen. She loves stories in all forms, and
takes every opportunity to jump into them wherever they occur, in whatever
capacity is available.
Kendall lives in the Pacific Northwest, known for breathtaking landscapes
and Seasonal Affective Disorder. When she is not consumed by a story or
toiling away in the public education system, she can be found adventuring
with friends and family, or snuggling cats. Her cats. Not all cats.
Certainly not strange cats.
Touch of a Witch S.G. Slade (Darkness Rising, #1) Publication date: October 31st 2023 Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Historical
When visions of death haunt her every move, only the darkest magic can save her.
Sarah Stone’s family have always closely guarded the secrets of their witchcraft. Though they tend as healers to those that know them, few guess the truth of the family’s skills.
But others have secrets too, and when Sarah finds herself caught in the grip of a terrifying curse, she fears for the fate of all she holds dear. As a dark shadow haunts the taverns and brothels of Bankside, whispers of the curse begin to spread. Then she is accused of witchcraft, and there seems to be no escape.
In a world where the those called Witch end up on the gallows, can Sarah find a way to turn the curse aside? Or will the price be too high to pay?
Content warning: strong sex scenes and the occult.
Touch of a Witch is the first standalone novel in the seductive Darkness Rising series.
An earlier version of this novel was published previously as Shakespeare’s Witch
She dreams she is in a forest of pine at night, walking barefoot on the cold, soft earth. A full moon glimmers through the branches of the oaks overhead, brushing silver hues across everything it touches, and a stream trickles lazily beside her – she seems to be following its path upstream, searching for the source, and despite the darkness, she finds her way easily, unafraid.
In time she comes to a clearing where the stream begins, emerging from an outcrop of rocks to spill into a pool that fills before it overflows and runs off along its way. Stepping out of her shift, she slides into the water and lowers herself down until the surface laps around her shoulders. It is cool and clear and sweet, and she is tempted to submerge herself, to give herself to the sacred water and stay in this place always.
Then, one by one, four men approach to stand at the edge of the pool, one at each point of the compass. She feels no shame at her nakedness before them, no fear, content and at ease in the pure crystal water. She has no doubt this is where she is meant to be. Wheeling slowly, the rock hard and smooth beneath her legs, she regards each of them in turn. As she turns, each man holds out a hand to beckon her to them, and she sees then that they too are naked.
She goes first to stand before her father, out of habit of respect and obedience, and he speaks to her, though with no voice she can hear with her ears.
Bride thou shalt be, obedient daughter of Christ.
Placing one hand on her shoulder, and the other on her breast, he rests them there until she steps away and drops back into the water to wash herself free of the taint of his touch.
Then she turns to Simon.
Wife thou shalt be, loving mother of children, though none of mine.
He too places one hand on her shoulder and one on her breast, until she slips away from his touch also to rinse herself clean in the pool.
Then she goes to Tom, whose skin is taut and pale in the moonlight: his nakedness before her quickens her breath. He steps closer.
Lover thou shalt be, spirit of the earth.
For a long moment she waits before him, and when finally he lifts his hand to her breast, she gasps as a charge fires between them. She steps closer, her breasts pressing against his ribs and his member hard against her belly. Desire flares through her before he takes her hand in his and leads her to Nick. She waits, drinking in the beauty of the man who stands before her, his muscles strong and vivid in the silver light.
Mistress thou shalt be, if thou so wills it.
He reaches for her hands and lifts them to his lips, drawing her closer in towards him. Then she stands against him, and with his touch to her breast, she feels herself begin to fall, floating and free.
Author Bio:
S.G. Slade was born and raised in the historic city of Bristol in England, and now lives in Sydney, Australia, with her husband, son, and a very small dog called Livvy. She has worked variously as a secretary, a teacher, a shop assistant and a nurse, but lifelong obsessions with books, history, and magic have never waned. When she isn’t reading or writing (which isn’t often), you can find her either doing yoga, going for long walks, or watching old movies. Touch of a Witch is her first historical fantasy book.
She uses the pen name S.G. Slade for her fantasy books, and also writes Historical Fiction under the name Samantha Grosser.
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