Posted in #BookTours

The Ice Queen’s Shoes

The Ice Queen’s Shoes
R.S. Kellogg
(Breadcove Bay)
Publication date: August 7th 2021
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

When missing your train could change everything…

Freshly graduated from Borealis University and reeling from a failed apprenticeship, Della only wants to get home. But a minor injury changes her route in magical ways and opens unexpected possibilities.

If you love atmospheric fantasy, subtle magic, and stories where a single moment can change a life, discover The Ice Queen’s Shoes today.

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The Ice Queen’s Shoes is a FREE prequel story setting up the novel the Sea Queen’s Key, which will be releasing on Kickstarter soon. Follow the campaign at the link below to be notified when it goes live!

EXCERPT:

“It is my holiday,” the man sitting across from Della on the train said. “A short one. Two days. So, I suppose it’s going a little bit differently than how I’d envisioned.”

Della watched him carefully. Who had a holiday that lasted only two days? And, for that matter, what kind of a person had a holiday now? Her university had reached the end of its term, but most of the city wouldn’t go on holiday for another three weeks, and then the whole city basically would take a month off.

The old man must have read something in her questioning expression. “I’ve been working on a project,” he said. He looked a bit stressed as he said it, but there was also something a bit impish about him—Della liked him despite her natural distrust of strangers. He seemed avuncular, and she could tell by the unique worn smooth brown cloth of his clothing that he was one of the North Men, rarely sighted in the city of Breadcove Bay.

She was a little flattered by the focus of his attention.

It was going to take some time to get to where she was going, so she may as well spend the time in interesting conversation.

“Tell me about your project,” she said.

He grinned. It was all the encouragement he needed.

“Me and my men have been tracking something across the northern plains,” he said, with the flair of a natural storyteller. “And a week ago, it just got a little bit more interesting. But three days ago, the trail went cold, fast. So, me and the men, we decided a break was in order. We’d each take a two-day vacation, and start at it fresh again.”

“If you’re tracking something,” Della interjected, “Wouldn’t taking a break mean you’d risk the trail going cold?”

The man shook his head.

He looked smug, Della thought. Smug with the air of a man who has supreme confidence in his craft.

“It’s not a beast I’m tracking,” he said. “Not that kind of a being at all. The way tracking of this nature goes, first the trail goes cold, then, we take a break, and if we’re lucky, as we soften our approach to it, the perfect information will naturally show up.”

Curiosity piqued, Della tilted her head. “Naturally show up when you are nowhere near the trail of your prey? I ask you, what on earth are you tracking?”

She’d heard, of course, the legends: that North Men tracked animals, found lost humans, located lost camps and lost objects, and sometimes . . . rumor had it . . . tracked supernatural beings.

She wondered whether she’d happened upon a North Man in the middle of a fairy tale, feeling a bit like an explorer who has stumbled into a strange new environment, where the people might do something completely unexpected at any moment.

Staring at him as though she were watching a polar bear in the governor’s private animal enclosure, where she had been a guest at the winter party one year, she waited as he seemed to debate within himself whether to share with her any part of his tracking tale—and if so, how much.

“I’m tracking a lady,” he finally said, and Della roared with laughter.

The man jolted, clearly knocked off kilter by Della’s hearty response.

She didn’t have a delicate laugh. It was more like the way a man would laugh when he had bested everyone at a game of cards. And it would come out of nowhere.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, folding her arms. She didn’t care a twig how people responded to her laugh. They could take her or leave her.

Just as she could take or leave anyone who came across her path.

And at the moment, this was a person who was entertaining her.

“You’re tracking a woman?” she asked him. “Did she wander out into the north and get lost? Or are you trying to find a romance?”

She snorted and shook her head.

He looked wounded but still doggedly eager to pursue the conversation.

“I’m tracking a Sky Woman,” he said, and Della leaned forward intently, her smile instantly gone.

A Sky Woman.

That would be more akin to a goddess.

“Why are you tracking a Sky Woman?” she asked him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s complicated,” he said. “But it’s part of the job of my family, and my men, to keep the balance between the Sky people of the north and the boundaries of the city. We have to make sure that neither side encroaches on the side of the other.”

She sighed. “That sounds like a big project.”

He nodded.

“How do you even begin to do something like that?” Della asked.


Author Bio:

R.S. Kellogg writes the Everyday Goddess Stories, the Mermaid Magic Tales, and fiction in the story realms of Breadcove Bay and Agratica, among other places.

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Undying

Undying
Christy Healy
Publication date: June 9th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Rory Ó Conchúir has always known that she was destined for war. Her deadly gifts, the unwanted inheritance of her ancestor, the Mórrígan, can only be wielded as a weapon of destruction and doom. For years, she would not allow herself to be used as such, instead choosing to live far across the sea, refusing to regret what she has left behind in order to do so…until the fateful day that she learns of the price she has paid for her peace.

Niall Ó Flannagáin, the young king of Connacht, was never meant for war — that has always been his half-sister, Rory’s, role. But now he finds himself threatened with a foreign invasion and the ruination of the realm, without her aid. In desperation, he turns to a powerful enemy as an ally, his only hope to unite the provinces against the foreign armies gathering even now to destroy the land he has sworn to protect.

Locke MacMurchada, the son of the most hated traitor in all of Éire, owes a debt that he knows he can never pay. But when the opportunity to propose a political marriage with the murderous Rory Ó Conchúir arises, he seizes the chance to protect what is left of both his people, as well as the legacy which his father ripped to shreds…so long as she doesn’t kill him first.

When the fateful day of doom at last arrives, the fates of all three royals – the cursed princess, the young king, and the traitor prince – become inextricably woven together, forcing them to face new threats and old enemies, hoping to forge a stronger Éire from the ashes of the old.


Content Warnings:
Frequent depictions of war & battle scenes
Graphic descriptions of torture & death
Loss of a family member
Discussions of grief & self-hatred
On-page death of major character

Goodreads / Amazon


Author Bio:

Christy Healy has been a book nerd ever since she was a little girl hiding under the covers with a flashlight and a dog-eared copy of Anne of Green Gables. She started writing soon after, and the obsession only grew. Now Christy weaves stories of her own into the myths and tales of the Celtic, Indo-European, and Greco-Roman worlds that she has loved for so long. When not lost in her fantasy worlds, she lives in North Carolina with her children, her dog, and her husband.

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Arcanum: Secrets of the Madonna

Arcanum: Secrets of the Madonna
Kelly O’Hearn
(Arcanum, )
Publication date: June 9th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Sometimes happily ever after takes more than one two three lifetimes.
The anticipated third book in the Arcanum series, the only book series channeled through the tarot.
____________________________________

Sarah Fuller has it all—a fragrance empire, a terrace overlooking Central Park, the perfect life. Until a frightening episode shatters everything she thought she knew. Now her husband’s iPhone location is mysteriously off, and the charming widower Harry is impossible to forget.

Haunted by the tarot’s tales of past lives and ancient secrets, Sarah is drawn to Rome—to galleries where Renaissance masterpieces seem to know her name, to shadows of the Inquisition where forbidden love once bloomed, to a truth hidden within the Vatican’s darkest corners.

Who is the woman in those paintings, gazing out across centuries? And why does Sarah recognize herself in her eyes?

From the elite Hamptons to the pyramids of ancient Egypt, from medieval French castles to the dangerous splendor of a newly built Vatican, one woman must unravel the mystery of her soul—before history repeats its most devastating mistake.

This is the story of Arcanum.

In a world where love transcends time, some vows are meant to be broken.
_____________________________________________________________________________

“Sensual, spiritually charged, and utterly unputdownable.”
Marisa Halstead
Founder and CEO of Seeded Sound

Advance Praise for Book Three in the Arcanum Series:
“Sarah’s journey reminds us that love does not vanish-it endures, waiting patiently for the moment we are ready to receive it again. This story left me with a deep sense of peace, wonder, and the quiet certainty that what is meant for us will always find its way home.”

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

JG Melon, June 13

“God, you look terrible.”

Max held Sarah at arm’s length, nose wrinkled, examining her as if she were Chinese takeout possibly left in the fridge too long.

She wrestled free and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Well…you look fabulous as always. Are those real glasses or just for effect? They’re…also fabulous.” She slid into a chair.

“They’re genuine tortoise shell. Vintage. Not cheap,” he said. “They’re for reading, but Lord, I’m going to have to take them off for this lunch. I don’t want to be able to see you this well. You need an Instagram filter or something.” He sat down, still eyeing her critically.

“Well, take them off then,” she said. “We certainly know the menu by heart. And I know, I’ve let myself go a little, missed a few waxing appointments and such. If this is what my eyebrows look like, you can only imagine the state of my—”

“Darling, we’re eating,” Max said. “Poor Carl, that’s all I can say. I bet he still looks polished as always.”

“Handsome as ever,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “Shall we order, seeing as I need to put on five pounds immediately?”

“And get to a salon this afternoon!” he said. “Nails, hair, Botox, the whole thing. You are the CEO of a luxury brand, for god’s sake. Thank goodness it’s summer and nearly everyone is out of town.” He waved over Charlie, their favorite waiter.

“The usual?” Charlie said.

“Yes, please, and stat! Sarah looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks, doesn’t she, Charlie?”

“You two, always bickering like an old married couple,” Charlie said as he walked away, shaking his head.

Max turned to Sarah. “Now. Tell me about my godchild. How is she feeling?”

“Max, it’s incredible. Alex was in the ICU not six weeks ago, and she’s been fully cleared to go to sleepaway camp. The doctor told us that kids recover from her condition quickly, but if you’d asked me in the hospital whether she would make it to camp this year…I didn’t even know if she would make it home by now. It’s as if it never happened.”

“Sarah, that’s such great news,” Max said. “I called Alex the other day and all she could talk about was having gotten excused from the last two weeks of school. She was thrilled! Especially since having a sick twin sister didn’t get her brother the same dispensation.”

Sarah laughed. “Yes, Sam’s hoping for a dire illness, possibly in September.” She covered her face with her hands. “Actually, you know what, it’s too soon to joke about it.”

“Maybe this will help,” Max said as he filled her glass with red wine. They clinked glasses. “To health,” he said.

“To health.” They both took a sip.

“So let me get this straight,” Max said. “Alex has been back to normal for weeks. Carl has not a hair out of place. The camp bags are nearly packed. And you’re still a mess?”

Sarah covered her eyes again. “I knowwww. I just got so close to losing everything. It really rattled me, Max. Stuart and Sofia have basically been running the company for the past several weeks—and honestly everything is going fine. Gallica’s a hit, we had another great harvest of roses in France, my Arcanum core fragrances are doing well. Do you ever feel like your time has come and gone?”

“Sarah, you’re forty-one, even if you do look eighty right now.” Max patted her arm, then topped off her glass. “You’ve got a whole lotta living left to do. What happened to the Sarah who believed in past lives? The Sarah who slayed at that gorgeous launch party for Gallica? Who caught the eye of ‘Manhattan’s Hottest Bachelor’? He was obsessed with you.”

“Was obsessed?” Sarah said, blushing slightly. “I told you what happened in France? Our little tête-à-tête in the ancient forest?”

“And how you insisted that he go through with his engagement to Simone? Yes, you told me.” Max took a copy of the New York Post out of his tote and put his glasses back on. “Sweetie, he took your advice and ran with it. All the way to Harry Winston.”

Author Bio:

When Kelly O’Hearn first stepped off the train in the city of Florence, Italy, as a 20-year-old, she had the overwhelming instinct that she had been there before. In a place famous for its maze of medieval streets, O’Hearn navigated the city as if she had lived there for a lifetime. Born in New York City, O’Hearn first put her intuitive skills to work as a professional wine taster, instructor, and sommelier in the elite institutions of New York, Portugal, and Aspen. After raising her two children and enduring a personal health crisis, in 2012, she was drawn to begin reading the tarot cards, an ancient practice which does not presume to “predict the future” but offers a collection of stories, perspectives, and self-reflections that can guide one to become one’s most authentic self. O’Hearn is in high demand for her readings, with clients on every continent but Antartica. While most people were baking sourdough or riding their Pelotons during the Covid pandemic, O’Hearn used the tarot cards to channel her own past lives. Weeks of readings, all captured on video, yielded six storylines of herself as several powerful women over the millennia and around the globe: the same one soul, over time, persevering against all odds in the quest for happiness and the love of a soul mate. This time-bending saga inspired O’Hearn to conceive of a series of novels titled Arcanum. Book One: In the Temple Shadows is available now. Book Two: Whispers in the Forest will be released Spring of 2025.

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The Flames of Soulflare

The Flames of Soulflare
La Kayshal
(Hell’s Fire Dragon Series, )
Publication date: May 27th 2026
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Fourth Wing meets From Blood and Ash in this Dark Paranormal Romantasy where dragons fear prophecy—and love may be the final weapon.

Everin Haydon was stolen, tortured, and reshaped into the dreaded Hell’s Fire Dragon, bound as a weapon for a Dragon Council that calls itself righteous.

Across the realms, Lord Tynan, the Demon of Darkness and Chaos, has ascended. His arrival heralds the Three Days of Darkness, and he will burn heaven and earth to reclaim what fate bound to him—his power, his vengeance.
But one question if the demon has risen, where is the god meant to stop him?

As the dragon world waits for divine intervention, Everin must decide whether she will remain a weapon—or become the fate of the realms.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Apple Books / Kobo

EXCERPT:

Dark themes including captivity and experimentation

Emotional conflict and intense character struggles
Violence and battle scenes
High-stakes situations involving power and survival

This book is best suited for readers who enjoy emotionally intense, character-driven romantasy.
Read Before You Decide

Before committing, please read the prologue.

This will give you a clear sense of the tone, pacing, and writing style.

Prologue:
Present Day

The moon hung quietly above Helldreth Fort, its pale glow spilling through the tall windows and brushing the chamber with soft silver. A cool breeze drifted in and stirred the white curtains, their edges sweeping lightly across Everin’s skin. She pulled her silk gown closer, grateful for the warmth of the room. It felt comforting, far more so than the terrible, dark place she had left behind.

Her steps carried her to the mirror in the corner. The reflection staring back looked thinner, as if her body had been carved down to something she hardly recognized.

The neckline of her nightie dipped too low to her liking, drawing her eye to the faint scars across her chest. The lamp light traced their uneven lines, pale and unsettling.

She touched them gently. Everin barely remembered how or when she got the scars.

She pulled the outer robe around her until it covered more of her chest. At least the scars were low enough to stay hidden unless she wore something too revealing.

A sound of footsteps behind her made her turn.

Tariel Fenwick, her first love, stood at the doorway.

Everin froze for a moment. He looked different—stronger, more defined, more man than the boy she remembered. His dark hair rested just above his shoulders with two thin braids at the sides of his head, framing a face sharpened by a faint stubble. His amber eyes, once so warm, now carried a deeper, shadowed intensity.

His shirt hung open across his chest, revealing sculpted muscle that rose with each slow breath, and a leather gauntlet, more like an open finger glove, hugged his left hand like a seamless extension of his skin.

Her gaze lingered longer than she meant it to. He saw that. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips.

She straightened quickly. “We need to talk, Tariel.”

“Yes,” he replied, approaching her, “but not now.”

“There is a lot I want to understand,” she said quietly. “So much I don’t remember.”

“Later.” He reached her, lowering his voice. “I’ve long waited for this moment with you.”

He stepped closer.

She stepped back.

“You waited for me?” she whispered, searching his face.

“I did,” he said. “More than you know.”

He brushed a fingertip along her arm. She stiffened but felt a flicker of the old pull toward him, a warm memory trying to surface. Her eyes drifted briefly to his lips, those that she had kissed in the past, before she forced herself to look away.

His smirk deepened. “Are we shy now, Everin?” he murmured, amusement warm in his voice.

“It has been a while,” she managed. “Things are not the same.”

“We are,” he said, touching her jaw. “You still feel this.”

She backed away again, but he followed, closing in until she had no space left. Her leg hit the edge of the bed. She lost her balance and stumbled, falling backward onto the soft covers. Instantly, she pressed her elbow into the mattress as she tried to push herself upright and pull her short nightie into place, but she barely had a second.

By the time she braced herself, Tariel was already on the bed. One knee pressed into the mattress, and in a swift movement, he trapped her between his legs. His body loomed over hers, leaving her nowhere to go. His hand slid behind her back and pulled her closer. The other moved to her neck, his fingers settling at her pulse, firm enough to hold her from looking away.

His control was precise and deliberate.

“Tariel—” She sucked in a breath, fear slipping into her voice. “What are you doing?”

His lips hovered above hers, so close she could taste the hint of warmth in each breath he released.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, his voice shifting, deepening, curling around her like smoke. His eyes burned brighter, molten gold spilling across the darkness of his gaze. “You always have.”

Everin’s heart thrashed in her chest. Something ancient stared back at her through his eyes—something demanding, something claiming.

She tried to pull away. “You’re frightening me.”

He leaned closer, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “You love me,” he whispered.

“You always have. And you will give yourself to me again.”

His mouth dragged slowly toward hers, teasing, commanding, his breath warm against her parted lips.

“I want you,” he said, low and certain. “I want all of you.”

“No.” Everin gasped, turning her head away as panic surged. “Stop. You’re not—”

His fingers tightened at her neck.

He didn’t stop. The Tariel she loved would have.

“I am yours,” he murmured.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Then her voice broke in a whisper—

“You’re not him. You’re not Tariel.”

The room fell silent. And everything inside her knew she was right.

Author Bio:

La Kayshal is an Australian writer of romance, YA, and children’s fantasy novels. She lives with her husband, daughter, and a playful Malshi puppy in the coastal plains of the Sunny State.

Her debut novel, The Lost Crown, is an adventure romance set in the exotic landscapes of India. She also created the much-loved Sylph Series, a whimsical children’s collection that introduces readers to the amazing world of Sylphs, with each book carrying a gentle moral lesson.

A lifelong fan of wizards, magic, dragons, swords, and elementals, she poured all these passions into her YA fantasy Ariston Baker in the Weird Picture Book, a fast-paced journey filled with realms, riddles, action, and adventure.

Her latest project is the Hell’s Fire Dragon series. Book 1, The Flames of Darkness, is a YA Romantasy full of dragons, and Book 2 is set to be released soon.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram


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The Chimera Snare

Witness the vile acts of a monstrous heart. 🫀

Feel the vicious clash of duality in conflict. ⚔️
Know the light of protection through valiant courage. 🛡️


The Chimera Snare: Reflections

The Chimera Snare Book 2

by S & E Black

Genre: Dark Epic Fantasy



-Winner: 2026 Literary Titan Gold Book Awards: Fiction
-2nd Place: 2026 BookFest Awards – Fiction- Dark Fantasy
-Book Nerdection “Must Read”
-Readers’ Favorite: 5 Stars

 

Von is cast into the pages of Ananael, the Order’s tome of secret knowledge. However, his venture into the past takes an unexpected turn as he awakens within a cosmic void in the presence of the eternal being, who grants him perspective through others woven through his existence. Yet before he may commence his time-altering quest, a trial of discovery, revelation, and horror surrounding his origin awaits him.

Benson’s monstrous heart sews the seeds of a vile past brimming with betrayal and hate. Through unimaginable deceptions and buried secrets, familial bonds once forged from love, honor, and acceptance are upended and broken forever. The souls of integral births, sprouting from pillaged and neglected foundations, unfurl a path towards disarray.

Distorted memory fragments challenge Von’s grip on reality, and the reveal of a horrid truth ignites a vicious fury of vengeance. Though his quest for answers falters along the way, he finds help from an unexpected ally. Meanwhile, a mysterious power awakens within Navaryn, putting her at odds with both her friends and herself. And as the motivations of Celestine’s leader become questionable, her suspicions involving her role within the Halryn continue to grow.

As the disparate worlds of Celestine and Daeva teeter on the brink of war, Von and Navaryn are drawn together by unseen forces. Two destinies, once parallel, now collide. But where bloodshed beckons, a valiant act of courage challenges the course of their fates.

 

Clay Urn Publishing * Amazon * Apple * B&N * Bookbub * Goodreads

 



At last, an uneasy silence fell upon the sopping wet grounds, though the shambled arena creaked eerily. Von quickly Paralleled to the ground and proceeded to walk toward Navaryn’s limp body lying in a muddy crater several meters away. As he gradually brought his power down, his claws began to retract, and his horns receded into his skull. Clutching his side as he trotted along, he heard clamoring voices in the distance and a distinctive pair of boots running through the mud towards him.

“Von!” shouted a sober Claymar. “Wow, you’re alright.” He ran to his side and acted as a crutch to hold him upright. “That was, uh, really something back there. Care to explain what all that was?”

“Later,” said Von exhaustedly. “Where’s your uncle?”

“On his way, most likely. He nabbed Illiya and had her scout for other Celestines while you were off playing with the shimmery blue one. Why do you ask?”

“I need to know how much time I have,” Von replied.

“Time? For what?” he asked, peering ahead at Navaryn. His eyes widened as she slowly began to stir.

“Hold it, Clay,” ordered Von, pressing his hand against his chest to break his stride.

“What are you worried about? You got her!”

“It’s not that.”

Claymar scrunched his face and asked suspiciously, “Then what is it?”

“She’s strong,” said Von. “Immensely strong. She very well could have killed me.”

“Uh, but you’re the one still standing, are you not? Can’t be that strong,” he teased.

“Something happened, though. She lost control. Her power spiked with mine, but didn’t stay with her.”

“Ha! You almost sound like you feel sorry for her.”

Von ignored Claymar’s remarks and walked towards Navaryn, who was slowly rising to her knees with her back to him. Claymar followed behind, but Von turned to him with a furious eye.

Claymar folded his arms and asked, “W-what are you doing?”

The rain calmed, and the moon peeked through the parting clouds, casting a peaceful light onto the glistening, moist ground. Von drew closer, catching silver scintillations atop the bloodied and scorched wounds on her back.

Navaryn winced in pain as she struggled to rise to her feet, chattering her teeth as the cold, wet mud chilled her bruised skin. As squelching footsteps neared, she spun around. “W-who’s there?” she uttered, shielding the moonlight from her eyes with her forearm.

Navaryn’s inquisition made Von stop in his tracks. As her eyes adjusted to the razor-sharp rays of light over his silhouette, she quickly recognized the warm glow of his crimson eyes.

“Stop! Don’t hurt him!” Navaryn cried out.

Her strange and sudden outburst jolted Von. He looked around to find who she was pleading to, but saw no one.

“Wh-what happened to me?” Navaryn asked herself as she gazed down at her hands.

The confusion in her voice affirmed Von’s earlier assessment. “You’re fine now,” he assured. “You’re back.”

Navaryn’s eyes widened as she looked back up at Von. With the simplest of words, uttered with a palpable coldness, he gave her comfort and validation. In him, she found the first person able to convey an understanding of what she was going through when all others couldn’t begin to. An essence dwelt within her. One that seized control of her body once triggered into play, and left her only with the ability to spectate. A similar plight rang true for Von regarding his notorious beastly transformation. Yet, as his second encounter with Navaryn unfolded, his energy had learned to work in tandem with the essence that would otherwise overcome him. Von and Navaryn became locked in a stare just as before, only this time without the presence of aggression. They saw themselves in each other, in a reflection no longer distorted.

“Hey, Von!” Claymar called out. “Um, not sure what you’re doing over there, but you should know the cavalry is incoming.”

Sidwell approached with his entourage of soldiers and a vexed group of eastern Daeva in tow. As the last of his squadron funneled out of the arena, many of the ceremony attendees emerged from hiding within the surrounding brush and trees. Mixed in among the crowd were the rest of Daeva’s leaders, Killian, Morgan, Adair, and Godric, with Merisek alongside them. Weaving through the approaching crowd was Joro, whose surreptitious footsteps evaded the spotlight. Although the chattering among the crowd was indistinct, even for Von’s hearing, he could feel the tension steadily rising.

Sidwell stroked his gray, scraggly goatee, suspicious of the pair’s peculiar exchange. Marching with mighty strides, flaunting his prowess, Illiya approached him from the side.

“Have you done what I asked?”

“Yes, sir,” Illiya replied. “I’ve scouted thoroughly, and there’s no sign of any Celestine formations in the surrounding area. She seems to be the only one.”

“A spy. Just as I suspected. And a dumb one at that. She tipped a bartender with Celestine coin,” he replied with a chuckle as he dismissed his lieutenant.

Sidwell and his entourage moved in to surround Navaryn.

“Well, it took you long enough. But you managed to take down the Celestine without incident to life. That’s as much of a ‘thank you’ that you’ll get out of me,” Sidwell uttered to Von before addressing the chattering crowd. “People of Daeva! You’ve now witnessed our realm’s very threat with your own eyes…”





The Chimera Snare: Fragments

The Chimera Snare Book 1



-Winner: 2025 International Impact Book Awards – Fantasy
-2nd Place: 2025 BookFest Awards – Fiction- Dark Fantasy
-Winner: 2024 Indies Today Awards – Best Urban Fantasy
-Winner: 2024 Literary Titan Gold Book Awards: Fiction
-Finalist: 2024 Literary Global Fiction/Debut & Dark Fantasy Sci-fi
-Book Nerdection “Excellent Read”

 

For Rayshell and her best friend Trish, senior year of high school is going to hell in a handbasket. The feud between Celestine and Daeva is bleeding into their world. When a mysterious visitor infiltrates her dreams, Rayshell is thrust into a realm of profound, otherworldly secrets. Together, Rayshell and Trish uncover the unbelievable—they are the living vessels for two banished Celestine guardians.


Amidst mystical recollections and a wondrous magic system that shatters the veneer of their everyday lives, the two friends embark on a journey against time to connect with the Celestine guardians’ allies in hopes of freeing them from their imprisonment. Simultaneously, the shadows cast by Daeva darken. The notorious outlaw, Merisek, has positioned himself to claim dominion over the Order of Existence—a trio of powerful artifacts capable of reshaping reality. Armed with two of these relics, Merisek races against the emergence of the Celestine guardians to claim the third. The stage is set for a showdown that will determine the fate of existence itself.


Rayshell and Trish are all that stand between Merisek and his unhinged desire to twist the fabric of reality into his making. As the threads of destiny unravel, the question looms: who will be the author of existence, and what profound truths will be unveiled in the final, decisive act?

 

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Breathing anxiously, Navaryn clomped atop a patterned runner carpet in her dirty boots. The gilded elements within the maroon corridor flashed as she passed under the waving candlelight of each chandelier. Though she tried her hardest to refrain, her eyes wandered back to the series of haunting paintings hanging on the walls. From treasured times with Von, Lowenna, and Claymar to bouts of training and battles in Opiri and Celestine, each painting depicted a memory from Navaryn’s past, seen through her eyes. Brimming with tears, she continued down the damned corridor with no end in sight and no way to turn back. Behind her, a cloud of darkness kept a close pace and consumed all that she passed.

Navaryn’s heart fell to her toes as the next painting came into view. Captured inside the ornate golden frame was Von lying shirtless on his back, in a moment of ecstasy. His lips, delicately parted, wore the glossy sheen of her passionate kiss, and his tense red eyes were rolled toward the headboard behind him. The very memory was etched within her mind so profoundly that looking upon it in such an outright fashion set her heart ablaze. Confused, distraught, and with no other choice but to press forward, Navaryn sprinted ahead unheedingly.

The corridor eventually ended at a remarkably ornate, dark wooden door. With the cloud of looming darkness twisting behind her, Navaryn wiped away her tears and steadied her breathing as she pushed it open. Amidst the scant candlelight, the gilded elements within the capacious room twinkled like gems inside a cave. She carefully scanned the room until she happened upon a curvy figure cloaked in elegant red and golden brocade standing by the far wall.

“Hello?” she called, but no answer came.

Navaryn turned back to the door and found a wall in its place. Apprehensively, she placed her fingertips where she remembered the doorjamb to be only moments before. As she motioned to approach her obscured, gilded companion, her gaze fell upon an immense painting hanging in the middle of the joining wall. One after another, the candles around the room caught fire.

With a racing heart, Navaryn muttered, “What is this?”

Standing arm in arm in garish, clinquant garb, Navaryn saw herself beside Kumiko as they gestured proudly to a Celestine crowd below. The false instance and her disturbing, unfamiliar expression, painted as if captured through a spectator’s eyes, sent chills down her spine.

Navaryn turned away but found the very same toothy, prideful smile mocking her from within the other paintings hanging on the walls. Her face soured in disbelief as she skimmed over them. She was depicted prominently, boasting her pristine Celestine wings beside Benson and Kumiko, sitting tall above the Halryn council. Just as well, she found herself pictured beside Kumiko in a catalog of moments when they had started a family. Yet, not a single painting in the cursed room housed her beloved friends Lowenna and Claymar, her dearest Von, Aalrija, Fallon, or the number of others who held a special place in her heart.

Dizzy from a fit of rapid respiration, Navaryn struggled to maintain her composure. When her eyes fell back upon the painting of her pregnant belly, draped in fine silvery velvet and lace, she frantically ran toward the embellished figure. Through teary eyes, her vision quaked with a white blur, and she lost her balance under her clumsy feet.

“What is this place?!” shouted Navaryn as she gripped the shimmery train of the woman’s dress.

The sound of Navaryn’s incessant crying filled the silent room. Lost in her despair, she felt the fabric slip from her hands as the woman turned around, gently hushing her. Her eyes jolted open once the delicate coos caught her ear. Fearful for what she knew she would see, she slowly raised her face to the woman.

“Everything that surrounds you here in this room will now be set into motion,” said the woman, placing her decorated hands upon Navaryn’s cheeks. “For our imperator commands it.”

The gentle voice and placid countenance, framed in a headdress of gemstones and twinkling gold, was undeniably her own.

Navaryn recoiled in disbelief. “Our imperator? Benson?”

She watched the sparkling ruby-painted lips of her doppelganger curl into a smile. “Look around you. Your imperator is no longer Benson.”

The ominous statement immediately coaxed heavy tears to her eyes. “I want nothing to do with anything here!” she roared with flashing white eyes. “This is not my life!”

Navaryn’s decorated doppelganger gestured toward a multitude of paintings that suddenly materialized from the shadows. Following a light chuckle, she replied, “You’ve never had a choice in the matter. It’s a shame you didn’t realize it sooner.”

One by one, the paintings morphed perspective, appearing as though they were moments Navaryn had experienced firsthand, like the ones that hung in the corridor.

“What’s happening?!” Navaryn shouted, then jumped to her feet.

One haunting image in the distance immediately grabbed her attention. While she approached the painting in disbelief, her doppelganger strolled to the far wall, placed her hand against a door concealed by darkness, then saw herself out of the room without another word.





Husband & Wife author duo Shannon Vierra & Edward Ayllon write under the pen name S & E Black. Together, they craft the award-winning series, The Chimera Snare. They share a deep appreciation for music and credit a great number of bands and artists for inspiring their writing journey. Currently, they live in the greater Chicago area amidst a rich and diverse culture with their clowder of rescue cats.

Shannon is an urban gardener and an avid seed collector. In the makeup community, she goes by the moniker zoomzoommacaron and hosts an international, zombie-themed makeup collab called the . She also enjoys anime, horror movies, craft beer & kombucha, cooking (and eating), sunbathing, photography, and singing badly. Music fuels Shannon’s many passions, especially writing and creating art. She credits music with saving her life on multiple occasions in her teenage and young adult years.

Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, Edward first discovered the joys of creative writing through his early high school studies, and has spent many years exploring and developing a deep appreciation for the arts. Since first collaborating with his wife, Shannon, he has sprouted a passion and true affinity for storytelling and crafting literature. In addition to refining his skill in creating written works, his other interests include playing bass guitar, listening to music, and dabbling in photography.

 

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