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Friday, December 18, 2020

Crow's Curse Series by Laura Bickle





Csodaszarvas
By Laura Bickle

The white stag
Hunted through years and centuries
Evades its pursuers, kings and huntsmen alike.
He has a more important mission.
He hunts too, you see
For the sun in winter.

He follows the sun south, 
Moving through forests blanketed by snow
Past trees stripped of leaves.
He searches out that cold orb in the sky,
Chasing it
Until it kisses the horizon on the solstice.

There
Then
He captures it in his mighty antlers. 
And carries that glowing source of light and life
Past the darkness and snows
Into the new year
Into the warmth and possibilities of the future.

Morrigan’s Blood
Crow’s Curse 
Book One
Laura Bickle

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark Fantasy
Publisher: Syrenka Publishing LLC
Date of Publication: Sept. 25, 2020
ASIN: B08B9TJ4V9
Number of pages: 188
Word Count: 57000

Cover Artist: Danielle Fine

Tagline: Garnet has the blood of the legendary Morrigan – and legions of vampires and witches will go to war to possess that power.

Book Description: 

Garnet has the blood of the legendary Morrigan – and legions of vampires and witches will go to war to possess that power.

As a trauma surgeon, Garnet Conners has seen more than her fair share of blood. But when one of her patients walks off the operating table and disappears into the night, she finds herself caught in a war between legions of vampires and witches in her city.

Garnet has dreamed of bloody battlefields for years – and a mysterious lover who controls a kingdom. In her waking life, Garnet is shocked to meet that man in a club. Merrel knows her from another life, a life in which she was the legendary Morrigan, goddess of death and war.

Garnet rejects the notion of magical incarnations altogether. But she falls in with Sorin, a handsome warlock who’s determined to protect the former bootlegger city of Riverpointe from a secret society of vampires. Haunted by crows and faced with undeniable proof of magic, Garnet scrambles to protect her career and loved ones from magical violence.

Abducted by vampires who seek to turn her into a vampire against her will, can Garnet seize the power of the legendary Morrigan to forge her own path in her embattled city? Or will she be forced to serve as a fearsome weapon in a deadly nocturnal war?



Excerpt Book One:

          “What have you got for me tonight, folks?” I asked.

            I backed through the doors of the operating theater, butt-first, gloved hands lifted before me to keep them clean. I took small steps, mindful not to lose traction. Those thin booties were slick, and I’d fallen on my ass on more than one occasion when I made sudden moves. Tonight, I was determined to get through surgery in an upright position and not have to scrub in twice.

            One of the nurses read from notes on a computer terminal. “This guy was found in the parking lot of a closed bowling alley. Speculation is that he took a trip or two through the pin setting machine and got badly torn up.”

            “Well, that’s a first.” I turned toward the operating room table. The light was so bright that hardly any shadows were cast in the room. They focused on the unholy mess on the middle of my table.

            This. I’m supposed to fix this.

            A man lay, unconscious, on the table. His chest was torn open, flaps of skin oozing onto wads of gauze and a paper sheet. His face was a mass of blood, now being daubed at with sponges. The anesthesiologist had found his mouth to thread a tube down, and someone had managed to get an IV started in one of his scraped-up arms.

            My nose wrinkled under my mask. “What do the X-rays show? How deep does the damage go? Did he get a CT?”

            A nurse clicked on a flatscreen monitor that displayed a carousel of CT images. I  squinted at them, muttering dark oaths.

            “Radiologist says it looks like a lacerated pancreas, punctured lung, and two rib fractures,” the nurse said. The image switched to the head, and he said: “Also the bonus of a fractured orbital bone.”

            I stared at the CTs. “Let’s start with that lung. We leave the pancreas, and call plastic surgery on that orbital bone. This guy’s going to need all the king’s horses and all the king’s men to put him back together again.”

            “Will do.”

            I gazed down at the poor suffering bastard. I liked seeing the imaging, but I preferred to get a good visual with my own eyes on my patients. Sometimes X-rays and CTs didn’t tell me everything I needed to know about what to start sewing where. Something about seeing where the blood moved and pooled in an injured person gave me an idea of where to begin. The blood always led me to where I needed to direct my attention. Where it spurted required my immediate expertise. Where it clotted or moved lazily, I could wait a bit. When blood drained out of a limb and had left it white, I needed to add more. I noted with approval that he was already receiving a transfusion. As long as blood was moving, there was a chance for him

            I frowned at his chest and touched the edges of the rends in his flesh with gloved fingers. Those were ragged and would have to be cut clean before I sewed him back up. I could see the edge of one of those protruding ribs, sticking up like a finger. I glanced over his limbs, counting the usual four. Hey, it pays to count. Count twice, cut once. I mentally cataloged bruises and scrapes, nothing that needed my immediate attention, though I flagged the palms of his hands to get a few stitches from the surgical resident. Looked like defensive wounds, like the guy had tried to fight the pin machine, but lost.

            My eyes moved up to his face. One blackened eye was swollen shut. My fingers and gaze wandered over his scalp, checking for major wounds, when I spied a laceration at his throat.

            I gently probed it with gloved hands. Some kind of puncture…the machine must have caught him near a seeping vein. It had nearly dried up, smelling rusty and not like the bright, coppery blood of his more critical wounds. It could still take a few extra stitches.

            I stared down at the unfortunate guy’s oozing chest. Peeling back a flap of skin, I felt around for the collapsed lung. My finger quickly squished around and found the hole, and I extended my free hand for a scalpel. Time to get this party started…

            …when the patient sat bolt upright on the table. His good eye was open, rolling.

            I yanked my hands back and yelped at the anesthesiologist, “Curt, what the actual hell?”

            The OR erupted in a flurry of activity. The anesthesiologist arrived at the patient’s side with a syringe, while nurses tried to push the patient back down.

            But he was flailing, windmilling with his arms like a pro wrestler in the ring. The IV ripped out of his arm, and the line slashed back at the anesthesiologist, whipping across his face. The patient reached up and ripped the tube out of his throat. His foot caught an instrument tray, sending scalpels flying. His blood line yanked away, spewing crimson all over the floor.

            I held my hands out, using my most calming voice. Not that I had a particularly calming voice; I was a surgeon. We don’t talk to patients. But I tried: “You’re safe. I’m your doctor, Dr. Conners. If you just lie back, we’ll make you comfortable and—”

            The guy shrieked and launched himself off the table. The paper sheet tangled around his legs, and he grasped it around his waist as he put his shoulder down and aimed for the door. His shoulder hit me in the arm, and I slipped on my booties, landing on my ass on the tile floor. The patient launched through the swinging doors and disappeared down the hall.

            I swore and ripped my booties off my sneakered feet. I clambered to my feet and punched the intercom at the door with my elbow. “Security, code orange at OR 6.” I couldn’t say: I’ve got a runner taking off down the hall. Please send somebody to stop him, because anyone listening to that would freak the hell out, and I would get a talking-to from HR.

            I straight-armed the door and took off after the guy. I had no idea how the hell this man was still walking around. Those injuries should have flattened him, and he’d been anesthetized. I had graduated med school with Curt a few years ago, and knew him not to be a careless anesthesiologist who played on his phone in the OR.

            The patient skidded down the hallway, landing at a dead end, where a window overlooked the parking lot. The sun had just set, and the sky was the violet color of a fresh bruise. I approached him slowly, like I was herding a feral cat. I tugged my mask down to try and give him a human face to look at.

            “Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” I murmured soothingly. I wanted to keep him here until security arrived. If he got even further loose and hurt himself, that would be one obnoxiously long incident report. And an even more involved surgery after that.

            “No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not gonna be okay. The bloodsuckers found me…and the Lusine couldn’t protect me.”

            “I don’t know who that is,” I said, thinking that the guy had probably run afoul of some loan sharks. Maybe the mob? “But you’re safe here. We can protect you.”

            “No,” he gasped, his face twisted in agony. “No one can protect me. And no one can protect Emily.”

            He turned toward the window, backed up a few steps.

            “No, wait…” I could see what he was trying to do, and I was helpless to stop it.

            He rushed the window, aiming for it with his shoulder. All the latches on the hospital windows on patient floors were welded shut, but this wasn’t an area where conscious patients had access, and the window was not secured against suicide attempts. The glass buckled under his shoulder, the window crumpled away, and he pitched through in a hail of glass into the falling darkness.

            I rushed to the window and stared down at the parking lot in horror. Three stories down, the patient sprawled on the parking lot blacktop, flattened like a bug under a shoe.

            Curt had come up behind me. “Oh, my god, Garnet…did he…”

            “He jumped,” I said, my heart in my mouth. I turned and ran to the stairwell, barking at him. “Get a gurney and the ER team.”

            I burst into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. As I rounded the third curve, my path was blocked by a tall, dark-haired man in a brown velvet blazer and jeans. He was the type of guy that I might have liked to meet in my off-time—he had a kind of scholarly intensity in his hazel gaze and a bit of roguishness in the stubble that covered his sharp jaw.

            “Stand aside,” I blurted. “Emergency!” As if my bloody gloves and surgical gown weren’t warning enough.

            But he blocked my path, one hand on either stair rail, his long arms spanning the length of the stairwell. “That man is dangerous,” he growled softly.

            “That man is under my care,” I announced, lifting my chin. I walked into the man, figuring that he would give way to my outstretched bloody gloves. Like a normal person would.

.           But he didn’t. My sticky gloves nearly mashed into the velvet of his jacket, and he didn’t flinch. This close, he smelled like old books and moss.

            “You can’t go down there,” he said. His voice was soft, but insistent. 

            My eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to tell me where to go,” I chirped petulantly. I ducked under his arm, darting out of his reach, and barreled down the steps the remaining way to ground level.

            I rushed out into the parking lot and stopped short.

            “What the actual hell—”

            The patient peeled himself off the ground and crawled to his feet. He reminded me of a half-dead insect when he did so, shaking and rickety and dripping blood.

            That’s impossible, I thought. There was no way that a human being could do that. I took two steps toward him…

            …and a dozen people flitted out of the darkness, from the shadows beneath cars and behind shrubs. The overhead parking lot lights, haloed by moths, illuminated their long shadows on the pavement.

            I breathed a sigh of relief. The squad was here and would get him stable, get him back to my OR.

            But…my brow wrinkled. That wasn’t the squad. Nobody was in uniform. They converged on him as he turned, screaming.

            “Stop!” I shouted.

            Heads turned toward me. Their faces were moon-pale and glistening in the lamplight.

            The man in the velvet jacket grabbed my arm, dragging me back. “You want no part of this.”

            “Don’t tell me what I want,” I growled. I stomped on his instep and twisted my arm to break his grip at the weakest part, the thumb. I whirled and ran toward the fracas.

            The shadowy people had plucked my patient off the pavement, clotting around him.

            I yelled at them, the way I might yell at pigeons in the park who were eating my dropped French fries.

            Overhead, the parking lot lights shattered, one by one, in a series of pops. Someone had a gun. I flinched back, shielding my face from flying shards of plastic with my hands, as I was suddenly plunged into darkness. I heard fighting, yelling, as if a gang war had broken out in front of me, roiling in the dark where no one could see.

            Or at least, as dark as things could get in Riverpointe. Riverpointe was a decently sized city, and ambient light filtered back quickly from the freeway, headlights on the access road to the hospital, and the hospital’s helipad above.

            As my vision adjusted, I realized I was alone. The people who were trying to abduct my patient, my patient…even that fascinating-smelling velvet guy…all were gone. 

            Ambulance lights flashed at the end of the parking lot, approaching me. Behind me, I heard the hammering of footsteps on the stairwell. Security spilled out behind me, along with a few cops who’d been hanging out in the nurse’s lounge. The EMTs pulled up to the curb, and there were all of a sudden a couple dozen people churning in a uniformed cloud around me.

            “Where’d the guy go?” a security guard asked me.

            A moth that had once orbited the parking lot lights flitted down and smacked my face. I batted at it, grimacing.

            “I don’t know,” I whispered, stunned. “He was just…taken.”

            The moth landed on the ground on its back, wiggling.

            With bloody fingers, I picked it up and placed it gently in a nearby shrub. Lights, voices, and radios crackled around me. Questions rose and fell, directed at me in a tide of inquiries I couldn’t answer. But I stared at the bloody moth, stained by my touch, as it sought a safe place among the churning shadows and light.

 



Morrigan's Bite 
Crow's Curse 
Book 2
Laura Bickle  

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark Fantasy
Publication Date: October 23, 2020
Publisher: Syrenka Publishing 
ASIN: B08B9GVMZM

Book Description:

Becoming a vampire was the worst thing to ever happen to Garnet Conners. But does she have to become a monster, too?

Garnet had a beautiful life…and it was stolen from her when she was turned into a vampire against her will. Once a successful trauma surgeon with good friends, she now finds herself hiding out in the basement of a coven house governed by hostile witches. Struggling with her vampiric urges, she despairs of ever returning to her former life.

Garnet’s discovered that she’s an incarnation of the legendary Morrigan. She dreams in blood, of the Morrigan’s other bloodthirsty incarnations over the centuries. Garnet’s dreams reveal her previous existence as Erzebet Bathory, and Garnet fears becoming that monster once again.

With the help of the witches, she attempts to learn to use her magical powers to control her vampiric nature…an experiment that ends in disaster. When her sister and friend go missing, Garnet knows she’s being hunted by vampires who will stop at nothing to bring her back into their fold.

Merrel, the vampire who turned her, offers her a bargain. He will return the abducted women, but Garnet must agree to spend three nights with him, training as a vampire. Garnet reluctantly accepts, but she fears giving in to her vampire nature and becoming the killer of the previous lifetime she’s reliving in her dreams.



Morrigan's Bond 
Crow's Curse 
Book 3
Laura Bickle  

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark Fantasy
Publication Date: November 19, 2020
Publisher: Syrenka Publishing LLC 
ASIN: B08B9KRLKZ

Book Description:

To end the war between vampires and witches, Garnet must battle the queen of the vampires, a woman who the Morrigan narrowly escaped in the skies of World War II.

Garnet Conners, incarnation of the legendary Morrigan, has pieced her life back together. After being turned into a vampire against her will, she’s quit her career as a surgeon and taken a job on the night shift at the city morgue. To her dismay, victims of vampires are piling up at the morgue…including the body of the vampire who turned her, Merrel.

Merrel’s faked his own death to set into motion a plot to wrest control of Riverpointe’s vampires from their queen, Varya. If Garnet helps him, he promises to move the vampires away from Riverpointe entirely, leaving Garnet and her lover, the warlock Sorin, in peace.

But Garnet’s haunted by dreams of her prior incarnations as Alix, one of the pilots of the fabled Night Witches in World War II. Alix fought Varya during the war… and was nearly destroyed by her. Varya held a magical artifact hostage, the magical sword Durendal, which she still uses to control the Asra hive of vampires.

When the vampires burn down the witches’ coven house, Garnet and her allies must locate the vampires’ stronghold. She, Merrel, and the surviving witches must rip Durendal away from Varya…or the city and all its supernatural inhabitants will be devoured in flames.




About the Author:

Laura Bickle grew up in rural Ohio, reading entirely too many comic books out loud to her favorite Wonder Woman doll. She now dreams up stories about the monsters under the stairs and sometimes reads them to her cats. Her books have earned starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Kirkus. Laura’s work has also been included in the ALA’s Amelia Bloomer Project 2013 reading list and the State Library of Ohio’s Choose to Read Ohio reading list for 2015-2016. The latest updates on her work can be found at authorlaurabickle.com.











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Daemon War by S. K. Gregory


Daemon War
Daemon Persuasion Series 
Book Four
S. K. Gregory 

Genre: Urban Fantasy 
Publisher: SK Gregory
Date of Publication: 18/12/2020
ASIN: B088F68JJ1
Word Count: 46k approx
Cover Artist: SKGregory

Tagline: They survived the battle, can they win the war?

Book Description: 

From USA Today Bestselling Author S.K. Gregory the Final Book of the Daemon Persuasion Series

The battle is over, but can they win the war?

The battle changed everything. Mackenzie finds herself with new responsibilities and a war heading her way. Her relationship with Taryn is tested as the bodies begin to fall.

An end to the war...

As they try to beat back the enemy, a prophecy might hold the key to end the war for good. It will take all of her power to keep the ones she loves safe. Time to kick some ass.

An urban fantasy novel

Amazon

Excerpt:

“Why won’t you ever listen!” Taryn screamed. He turned away from Mackenzie, his shoulders set with rage.

Before she knew what she was doing, Mackenzie picked up a heavy plant pot from a nearby table and brought it down on the back of Taryn’s head. His body crumpled to the floor.

Dropping the remains of the plant pot, she stood over him, waiting for him to get up and start screaming at her again. When she saw the blood pool out onto the carpet, that’s when she knew how serious it was.

“Taryn?” She dropped to the floor beside him, reaching out to check for a pulse. Nothing.

“No, this isn’t happening,” she whispered. She turned him over, stifling a scream when she saw his eyes open and staring back at her. “Taryn.”

She shook him, willing him to respond, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Oh God, I killed him.

This couldn’t be happening, she didn’t mean to get so mad, she just lost control for a moment.

Sobbing, she rested her head on his chest. Her whole life was over now. Taryn was gone, their life together, their home, their future. She would go to prison for sure and then...She sobbed harder.

“Mackenzie?”

She turned to find Annie standing at the top of the stairs. How did she get in?

“What’s happened? Is he okay?” Annie asked, taking a step toward her.

“No. He’s dead.”

Annie kneeled down beside her, placing a comforting hand on her back. “Oh my poor girl.”

“I need to call the police,” Mackenzie said, wiping her face.

“There’ll be time for that. You need to focus on what is important.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need you to tell me who you are,” Annie said.

Mackenzie stared at her. “What?”

“You heard me. Tell me who you are.”

Mackenzie shook her head in confusion. “You know who I am, Annie. Are you okay?”

Maybe Annie had hit her head or something.

“I know your name, but I need to know who you are and why you are here.”

Mackenzie got to her feet, eager to put some space between herself and Annie. Annie’s hand shot out and gripped her wrist.

“Answer the question!” she barked.

“Get off me,” Mackenzie said. She pried Annie’s fingers off her wrist and hurried downstairs. She would call the police and maybe a doctor for Annie.

Before she could reach the phone, Annie caught up to her. “You can’t escape me. Answer the damn question.”

Mackenzie whirled to face her. “Enough. I don’t understand your damn question. You know me. My name is Mackenzie. I’m here because I bought a damn house.”

Annie’s face twisted into a snarl. “Not good enough.”

There was a flash and for a moment, the entire room changed. The furniture vanished and she was sitting in a chair with a strange man standing over her. She blinked and she was back in the room.

This isn’t real.

Annie advanced on her.

 

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling Author S. K. Gregory writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance and horror novels. She currently resides in Northern Ireland where she works as an editor.

In her spare time, she helps indie authors by promoting them through her website and on social media.








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A Demon’s Witch by Tena Stetler ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza




Fantastic Molasses/Ginger Cookies

Ingredients:

1 ½ cup brown sugar  ¾ shortening/butter (1/2 cup butter or ¼ cup shorting)
1 large egg
¾ cup molasses
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
3 cups sifted all purpose flour  - for high altitude above 4,000 ft., add ¼ cup flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon cloves (I don’t care for cloves so I replace with pumpkin pie spice)
2 tablespoons ginger
¼ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
Decorating sugar mixed with white sugar for decorating 

Directions:

Cream sugar and butter. Add eff and beat until fluffy.  Add molasses and extract, mix well.  Combine dry ingredients and add slowly to creamed mixture.  It will be a thick dough.  Chill at least 30 minutes.  I chill mine for at least an hour.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F
Form dough into one-inch balls and roll in the sugar.  Place the balls on a greased baking sheet. Bake for 10-13 minutes, depending on the size of your balls and your oven.  Cool tray on cooling rack for 10 minutes before placing in a container.   
You can also roll the dough out and use cookie cutters.


A Demon’s Witch
Book One
Tena Stetler

Genre:  Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication:  9-25-2015
ISBN: 978-1-5092-0309-3
ASIN:  B014BVSZIC
Number of pages:  314
Word Count: 82,115
Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Tagline:  Undeniable attraction and dark secrets between demon and witch promises to tear apart their professional and personal worlds.

Book Description:  

Keeping a lid on all the paranormal beings inhabiting Washington D.C., is a daunting job. Bruce, a six hundred year old demon and the Territory Overlord of the Western Hemisphere, keeps his finger on the pulse of DC’s power players through the activities at his highly successful Wycked Hair Salon. His movie star good looks and body builder physique keeps his dance card full and the rumor mills running.  Within these walls, his anonymity is safe, mostly. 

Bruce’s world spins out of control when Angelique, a pint size, gorgeous witch, with an attitude breezes through the doors of his salon. She is the younger sister of Tristian, Bruce’s long time trusted enforcer, whose professional skills are second to none. Tristian is furious at the relationship between Bruce and Angelique, a dangerous situation, but something darker awaits them all. Yet undeniable attraction between demon and witch promises to tear apart both their professional and personal worlds.

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/9e5djB0mwVE

Amazon     Amazon UK        Amazon AU     Amazon CA 

Kobo      BN       iTunes       Wild Rose Press

Wal-mart     Google Play      Goodreads     BookBub




Excerpt

A feeling of dark foreboding, like storm clouds forming on the horizon before a violent storm, washed over Bruce as he maneuvered the SUV into the parking lot behind The Krystal Unicorn.

Tristian was already there and it wasn’t to give his report. Bruce could feel the fury in Tristian’s magic signature hanging in the air. A silver tipped arrow penetrated the windshield, split the arm securing the rearview mirror, and stuck in the headrest a quarter inch from Bruce’s neck. Blue liquid oozed from the tip and a stream of red mist escaped from the other end of the arrow. 

“Hold your breath and don’t open the door or windows. The influx of fresh air will spread the poison.” He hissed though his teeth not daring to take a breath.

Air pressure inside the vehicle changed, Angie’s head felt like it was going to explode. “Bruce.” She whispered into his mind, a benefit of being mated.

 “I know, just a few seconds more, I’ve got it handled.” His deep smooth voice floated reassuringly in her mind, as he reached over caressing her shoulder.

The pressure eased and the red mist sucked in on itself disappearing along with the oozing liquid. He pulled the arrow from the headrest, fingering the hole in the upholstery.

Through gritted teeth, Bruce growled. “His first mistake was that he missed me. His second deadly mistake was he risked your life. That is unforgivable.” Those two things also told Bruce that Tristian wasn’t thinking clearly, fury was coloring his judgment. That gave Bruce an edge, though the attack caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected Tristian’s attack to put his sister at risk.

The console between them lowered to seat level. He hoped to add  fuel to the fury burning inside Tristian. Bruce put his arm around Angie’s waist and pulled her against him, his lips pressed against hers then gently covered her mouth as his tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips. He drew back, touched his lips to hers again trailing them down to the pulsing hollow of her neck and whispered, “You’re going into the shop now, Willow is waiting just on the other side of the door. Please stay there, you’ll be able to remain in my mind just don’t interfere. I need your presence there as a calming one. Willow can help you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, there wasn’t time to explain how everything works and I’m not exactly sure myself. Only that I can feel you in my mind and I assume you can feel me in yours.”

“Yes, it’s a weird sensation,” Angie said a tremor in her voice. 

 “We’ll learn together to use it to our benefit, now is as good a time as any to practice.”

She snorted, “Sure, our lives are on the line. No big deal.” She threw up her hands.

About the Author: 

Tena Stetler is a best-selling author of award winning paranormal romance with an over-active imagination.  She wrote her first vampire romance as a tween, to the chagrin of her mother and the delight of her friends. Colorado is home; shared with her husband, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-five-year-old box turtle. When she’s not writing, her time is spent kayaking, camping, hiking, biking or just relaxing in the great Colorado outdoors. 

 Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them. Travel, adventure and a bit of mystery flourish in her books along with a few companion animals to round out the tales



















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Mystic UnRealized by S. Peters-Davis



Christmas Interview with Sky Brooks and Rune McRagon – story-stars of Mystic UnRealized

Hello, Everyone! Hope you’re enjoying this Christmas season, even with the limits we might be dealing with at this time from the pandemic, may the warm joy of family and friends resonate within and carry you and yours through the New Year and beyond:)

So glad you stopped in because I’d like to introduce the stars of Mystic UnRealized at this time – Sky Brooks, the Mystic whose magick helped save our world from a Troll take-over, and her partner, Rune McRagon, the Dragon changeling who also played a large part in saving the world from an apocalyptic event.

Welcome Sky and Rune, so happy you could join us today. Here’s my first question, and all of them will be for both of you – How will you celebrate Christmas this year?

*Sky and Rune gaze at each other for several heartbeats and nod as if they’ve telepathically communicated*

Sky – We will be celebrating in the Sanctum Realm at Mythic Mountain, Azuron’s home. My whole family will join us there, along with the Fey from the Fern & Fauna Colony and from the Glade & Grass Colony. I’ve never attended a celebration of this magnitude before, Rune will have to fill us in on the details.

Rune – Not sure if everyone knows about the Sanctum Realm, so let me explain. It’s only for beings of magick as the realm exists on magick. Some without magick may be invited in, but those would require protection from the overwhelming energy there. Azuron, the presiding Dragon, is acting King of the realm and has held that position for at least one hundred years or more.

We always celebrate inside his mountain lair with all sorts of delicious eats, a crackling fire in his humongous hearth built of gemstones, and the place is filled with Fey music and dancing. The celebration goes on for several days in human time, but in Sanctum time, it lasts about twenty-four hours.

Wow, that sounds like a dream, celebrating with Dragon and Fey. I’d love magick surrounded me. How do you get into the Sanctum Realm?

Sky – *Sky smiles at Rune* You better take this one, Rune. I’m not sure what’s allowed to share with humans.

Rune – *He winks at Sky* There’s a hidden portal on the Hermit’s property that opens for Light Energy Magicks. It’s protected by wards, so will never be discovered by anyone else.

What do you mean by Light Energy Magicks? 

*Sky nods at Rune*

Rune – Looks like I get to respond again. *He kisses Sky’s forehead* Light Magickals are embodied with pure Divine energy, maybe think of it like Angel energy—good fighting evil. It’s the energy that binds with our personal magick.

I know you’re both busy building your new store and focusing on your gardens, so I’ll wrap this up with one more question – When’s the big date for you two, I heard there’s a wedding in your near future?

*Rune leans over and kisses Sky, when they come up for breath…*

Rune and Sky – Christmas Day!  *said in unison*

Thank you for stopping by, we all wish you a very Merry Christmas…and we also wish you luck on the raffle drawing – don’t forget to enter on your way out:)




Mystic UnRealized
S. Peters-Davis

Genre: Fantasy Romance, New Adult 
Publisher:  BWL Publishing, Inc.
Date of Publication:  November 2020
Cover Artist:  Michelle Lee

Tagline:  To save humankind from an apocalyptic Troll take-over, an unrealized Mystic and a brand-new Dragon changeling must bond and share their Magick.   

Book Description: 

To save humankind from an apocalyptic Troll take-over, Sky, an unrealized Mystic, and Rune, a brand-new Dragon changeling, must bond and share their Magick. 

An adult fantasy romance of a present-day tale with Mystics, Dragons, Fey, Trolls, and Magick, and the prophecy that draws them all together.



Excerpt:

Rune’s Point of View

“She drank from the Pool of Wellness,” I announced and stepped closer to the pearly-scaled giant. The magick of Azuron’s breath slithered inside my nostrils and mouth, leaving me light-headed.

“And?” Azuron’s deep, raspy voice, sharp and impatient, rumbled off the stone walls.

His cave had become my home away from the Shadowed Realm, but it always took a few minutes for me to absorb his magick. I shook my head in an attempt to gain balance, the tip of Azuron’s tail wrapped around my waist, holding me steady. Moments passed until my world righted itself. Maybe this dizziness had something to do with the addition of Sky’s energy. Her natural beauty had stunned me at first with those startling blue eyes, long lashes, full lips, and that head of soft, dark, unruly curls she’d attempted to tame in a ponytail but cascaded like a waterfall to her shoulders.

“Well?” Azuron studied me, drawing me closer with his tail. Moistened heat from his breath coated my face. Its magick ignited my voice.

I hoped he hadn’t just read my mind, assessing Sky’s beauty. “As you said it would happen, her eyes glowed, silver blue, like yours. The moment I saw them, I knew she was our Mystic and had arrived just like you and Mother claimed would happen. The time must be right for the prophecy to unfold, but I can’t help questioning it.”

“How so?”

“She’s clueless to her power, doesn’t trust me, and she closed her eyes when Mayapple appeared on my shoulder. She’s not ready, which makes me unsure of my ability to get her there.”

“I never said it would be easy, and I never said it would be up to you alone. Lucy’s ability to mentor Sky became limited due to interference from Sky’s mother, Jeana. And then Sky’s been away for the past four years gaining academic knowledge. I spoke with Lucy last night, in the UnShadowed Realm. Lucy said Sky’s father had stayed with her while she attended college.  It seems Sky arrived here heavily burdened not wanting to leave her father alone.”

“I noticed she has trust issues. She kept looking around as if expecting someone to jump out or something. I barely retained her attention.”

“You’ll figure it out. If anyone can help Sky gain trust, it’s you, my young protégée.” Azuron coiled his bulk and lowered his head over his forearms. “Time for meditation, which means it’s time for you to go explain things to Myarna. Your mother will be anxious to know what you’ve discovered.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

I left Azuron and clung to his confidence in me. After all of the prophecy preparation, will the world of humans even come to an apocalypse? I couldn’t imagine what would create the end of humanity. 

 

About the Author:

S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. Paranormal suspense-thriller romances are her favorites. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan. 

For a current listing of her books and buy links, check her author page below.


Twitter: https://twitter.com/spdavis788        




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