Tag: #Fantasy

Of Blood and Light
C. Monk
Publication date: April 30th 2023
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Arthurian legend, bodice-ripping, and capybaras: welcome to Thule.

A girl with a secret . . .
In the back of an ambulance, River Greer counts each breath her little sister takes until the final one: Sage’s body is giving up, ravaged by a mysterious illness. The late-night rush to the ER, however, turns into a surreal nightmare when River is abducted and ferried across the universe to the fabled Thule: a world beyond worlds, where Victorian mores collide with magic and Arthurian legend.

. . . meets a knight on a mission to save his world.
There, his grace Hadrian Landevale of Caid is fighting losing battles of his own: to recover Isolde, his runaway wife, and against the blight that threatens the ichor, the source of all life on Thule. To add insult to injury, the captured fugitive Thule pathfinders just brought back from Earth is not his duchess but an eerie doppelgänger.
When it becomes clear that someone on Thule will go to any length to silence River, Hadrian offers his protection to this enchanting, obstinate stranger . . . whose secrets might be the key to saving Thule’s most precious treasure: the light in its blood.

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EXCERPT:

“I have a lot more questions than you,” I murmur, tracking the movements of a pair of lone figures across the lawn. A man in farm clothes and a woman wearing some sort of maid outfit carry buckets and packages from a carriage stationed on a gravel path. They mill around, seemingly unbothered by the fractured moon and massive misty planet looming over their heads.

By the time the two strangers disappear, I realize Hadrian is still supporting me, one arm curled over the front of my torso while the other rests around my waist. I cautiously pry myself from his hold. He lets go and takes a step back, allowing some salutary distance between us. “What is this place?”

“Thule,” he reasserts.

“I heard you the first time, but that’s not what I’m asking.” I stagger away from the windows, unable to tear my gaze from the foreign sky outside. “Are we in space?”

One of his eyebrows rises a fraction. “Miss Greer, everything is, by essence, in space.”

“Are we in space elsewhere than on Earth? Like . . . how far?” I urge, desperate for tangible facts to hold on to as I plummet down this rabbit hole.

He motions to the evil chair he used to trap me earlier. “You seem quite overtaxed; would you like to take a seat?”

I shake my head to signal I’m never sitting in that thing again. “How far?”

“We’re approximately two hundred and ninety light-years away from Earth.”

A tremor snakes up my legs; I grip one of the bedposts for support. “How is that . . . No. No. It’s not possible.”

“The paths connect our worlds, as they have since the very first breath of time. The Dekwenn Tīrr, through which Eliud ferried you, is one such path. That is how you came to be here.”

“But it only took a second!” I shriek, the chaos of my thoughts coalescing into something cold and dark. Was it truly a second, or have I been asleep in that bright void for years and lost everything?

“Time and space are quite altered within the paths,” he notes.

“What do you mean? How long have I been here?”

He pulls a gold pocket watch from his waistcoat, flicks it open, and checks the dial. “Slightly over six hours.”

My initial rush of relief becomes a leaden sensation in the pit of my stomach as I recall the twisted physics of Miller’s planet in Interstellar—where severe time dilation caused by a neighboring black hole turns every hour into seven years.

“How long has it been on Earth?” Please let it not be forty-two years. Please.

A crease forms between his eyebrows. “The same amount of time, one should expect.”

“Exactly the same? So six hours? A quarter of a day?”

“A tenth, rather,” he corrects. Seeing my face scrunch in confusion, then panic, he adds, “While I’ve never had the privilege of visiting Earth, it is my understanding that solar days there are quite short.”

One-tenth . . . I whip my neurons into action and do the math, the room spinning around me as I process this new level of weird. “Sixty hours. Your solar days last sixty hours.”

“Indeed. It is past midday—” He checks his watch again. “Precisely thirty-two o’clock.”

“Give or take a light-year.”

“As I’ve already explained to you, the rules of time and space do not apply within the paths. Nothing does, in truth,” he adds, like an afterthought.

The room is warm, but I’m trembling, freezing. “I can’t be here. Please let me go home. Take me back through one of those paths!”

The lines bracketing his mouth deepening as he turns to face me once more. “I cannot.”

His earlier conversation with Eliud rings back in my ears: under arrest for the illegal crossing of an unregistered path . . . crimes for which even the wife of a knight must be held accountable.

“You can’t because it’s forbidden even to you.”

A single nod from him. “All paths have been strictly regulated for centuries. Only pathfinders are permitted to cross them freely. Thule’s legislation on the matter is enforced with the greatest severity.”

Centuries. That might explain why Thule hasn’t yet caught up with Earth’s latest fashion and tech and, instead, appears suspended in this weird Victorian bubble. “How severe are we talking?”

“Death.”

Author Bio:

Visit camillamonk.com for signed books, updates on upcoming titles, free reads, and giveaways.

C. Monk grew up in a Franco-American family and rose to dubious fame with a romantic suspense series starring an OCD-ridden hitman and a wide array of strange and occasionally angry animals. These days she shares her writing time between high-octane adventures in the same vein and fantasy, her secret love (but with weird animals, too.)

In another life, she lived in Paris and Tokyo, and spent ten years in advertising, building rickety websites for M&A boutiques and hedge funds. All of that somehow landed her in Montréal, where she keeps a close watch on the squirrels and complains on a daily basis about the egregious number of Tim Hortons.

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Spring Blight
Olena Nikitin
(Season’s War, #3)
Publication date: April 21st 2023
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

“Chaos and the wicked soul know no rest.”
(Old folk proverb)

Ina has no time to enjoy domestic life with Mar. As soon as life settles down after the Winter War, King Rewan calls his Royal Witch to give her a new task.
Southern rebellion, crops dying, and an endless stream of assassins attacking the king, leaving a trail that backs to a neighbouring kingdom. To make matters worse, an ancient cult has emerged from the shadows offering sacrifices to Winter’s Death.
One fateful letter and Ina is back on the road with an unlikely companion. But what can one Chaos mage do against so many enemies and the power of the Old Gods?

Immerse yourself in the third book of Season’s War, where passion mixes with cruelty, and the world-changing power can shackle even goddess to the mortal plain. The book is NOT standalone for the best experience, consider reading in the series order.

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EXCERPT:

When the great hall doors exploded inwards, nearly crashing off their hinges, a furious, muddy dragon striding through the gap with a sour-faced Daro in tow, she knew it would be more than just a lecture.

‘Ina! What in Veles’s name did you do this time?’

‘Why do you always assume I did something? And stop throwing people around; they don’t deserve to be manhandled.’ Mar’s dishevelled appearance finally registered, and it occurred to her that sending him to Alsia might have been more challenging than she appreciated. ‘Why are you so dirty? Did you get into a fight? Are you hurt?’

‘Don’t even try changing the fucking subject. You were fighting, injured, and lost control of your magic. I thought I’d lost you.’ Mar strode forward, his arms surrounding her so quickly that Ina gasped, which then turned into a moan as he lifted her off the ground, kissing her with desperate relief. ‘Never do that to me again. Do you hear me? Never. I nearly lost my mind thinking you’d died.’

Ina could feel his heart racing, squashed against his chest as she was. The witch could also feel something else. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what she hoped to feel, but a strange frisson against her skin, and she realised Mar was struggling not to transform. ‘Ina, when you reached out for help, and I wasn’t there, it nearly killed me,’ he said, pressing his forehead to hers before she gently stroked his bearded cheek.

‘Hush now, you big oaf. I’m not so easy to kill. I survived whilst my opponent is ash, floating away on the breeze. You have been fighting too, and you look much worse.’ She said, picking a flake of dry mud from his beard, trying to lighten the mood, but she heard Daro snort.

‘Oh, we weren’t fighting. We were all noble and diplomatic. It wasn’t until we were halfway home that the idiot fell off his horse like a ham actor swooning on stage. If that wasn’t bad enough, he turned into a dragon, causing the horses to bolt and me to land in the mud next to him. Even Woron couldn’t withstand his roar. Whatever you did to him left him flightless, so he spent the night groaning with his scaly ass firmly stuck in the mud. It would have been amusing if muggins here didn’t have to catch the horses. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wife to kiss.’

Author Bio:

Olena Nikitin is our pen name. We are an enthusiastic couple of writers who are fascinated by the fantasy/paranormal romance genre and decided to write a book we would love to read

Behind the Pen name:

Olga – is Polish, armed with a wicked sense of humour and typical Slavic pessimism she is the wicked witch from the East. She has written stories since childhood, initially mostly about her work. As an emergency physician, she always has a story to tell and often not much time to write.

Mark is a typical English gentleman whose charm, refined taste and an impressive collection of books were tempting enough to make Olga leave her homeland. Don’t tease him too much; this man has an impressive sword collection and he knows how to use it. He also can fix everything, including Polish syntax in English writing.

See more on our website: http://www.olenanikitin.uk

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Fae Heir
Lucia Ashta
(Royals of Embermere, #1)
Publication date: April 19th 2023
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Win the trials, earn a crown—or fail and lose everything.

The heir of Embermere has unexpectedly died, and now a new prince and princess must be crowned.

I’ve been hiding out with the dragons, but then mysterious fae show up at the dragons’ stronghold and abduct me at the King’s command.

The royals of Embermere are hosting the Fae Heir Trials to find their successors. The winners will marry and become the next to rule the fae lands. Turns out I’m the King’s illegitimate daughter and the wicked queen intends to kill me off during the challenges.

I find myself thrust into a barbaric tournament where death is all but guaranteed. I’m competing against the most gorgeous, deadly fae warriors of the realm. Determined, agile men who’ve been training to claim this chance all their lives—including clan leader Rush Vega.

Rush Vega is the Crown’s favorite, devastatingly charming and dangerously tempting. His combat skills and dark secrets will be my undoing. With my survival on the line, my heart must resist his pull and those intriguing moonlight eyes. He’s the queen’s spy, and that makes him my number one enemy.

My life might have become a game of savage brutality, but the Queen of Embermere underestimated me.

I was born a fighter. And I intend to win.

Note: Fae Heir begins the Royals of Embermere series, which is romantic fantasy intended for a mature audience. Each individual book ends on a cliffhanger, but the series concludes with an uplifting and satisfying ending.

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EXCERPT:

“And you should be more aware if you wish to survive the tournament … intact.”I scraped the tip of the sword I’d pointed at him across his junk, which bunched beneath a layer of tunic and breeches. And though my touch was soft as a feather, he jumped back as if I’d punched him, dropping his own sword to his side. “What the fuck?”he snarled, his eyes flaring. I batted my lashes at him, a picture of innocence as pure as freshly fallen snow. “Enlighten me, teacher. I thought that in a match of life or death I should press every advantage at my disposal.” “This isn’t a lethal fight.”With his shoulders tight with anger, he appeared even more dangerous than usual. I pushed off from the railing. “But that’s what we’re here preparing for. No one, not even you, thinks I’ll get out of the Gladius stage alive.” He glared at me. “See? You don’t even deny it.” “Still. There are some things you just don’t do.” I laughed. “Why not? Is your cock a sacred, bejeweled wand?” He stomped toward me. “Damn right it is. And you’d better fucking remember that from here on out.” I craned my neck back to look up at him. “Does it wear a crown upon its precious head?”I hadn’t meant to taunt him, but it seemed I couldn’t help myself.

Author Bio:

Lucía Ashta is the Amazon top 20 bestselling author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and paranormal women’s fiction filled with wild magic, spicy romance, and quirky characters that make you snort-laugh.

A former attorney and architect, she’s an Argentinian-American who lives in North Carolina’s Smoky Mountains with her husband and daughters.

Sign up for Lucía’s new release email list and you’ll be notified as soon as the next book publishes: https://www.subscribepage.com/luciaashta

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