Maegan M. Simpson's Blog

Agonizomai Series Kickstarter

The Agonizomai Series is getting new covers!!! And to help fund them, I’m running a Kickstarter! CHECK IT OUT HERE!

The project launched this morning and is running through November 4th. Not only will backers recieve books from the Agonizomai Series with new covers and interiors, they’ll also have a chance to choose a tier with maps, original artwork, stickers, and more! And there are never seen before stories that I’m sending out with each pledge (at tiers that include a book). 

I’ve you’ve been wanting to read the Agonizomai Series but haven’t picked them up yet, here’s your chance! And if you’ve read any of these books, share the project and help me find more readers who will enjoy it! 

Below is a sneak peek of the short story backers will recieve!

 

Past and FutureA Frosted Fire Short Story

Iyanka rounded the edge of a berry thicket, leaves turning golden and littering the ground, and froze at the sight before her. Milek was hanging upside down, feet and legs wrapped up in vines strung from the tree tops. Zef was halfway up another tree giving Henry suggestions. And Henry was kneeling a few steps from Milek, one hand planted in the dirt.

“Would everyone be quiet so I can concentrate,” Henry growled, twisting his hand deeper into the soil and glaring at the vines.

Milek laughed again, sounding utterly at ease with his position slowly spinning in the air.

“If these things drop me, you’re explaining why my head is too bruised to wear my ridiculous crown.”

Iyanka winced at the mention of the crown. It was designed after Siersh’s style, carefully crafted by a few of the fire wielders. It was…large. Victorin had privately told her that he was thankful he wasn’t stuck wearing the thing.

“Perhaps I’d be doing you a favor,” Henry muttered.

Milek snorted. An undignified yelp escaped his lips when the vines dropped him a head length’s closer to the ground.

“Henry,” Milek said with a firm tone Iyanka knew he was copying from Victorin. “You are tormenting your sovereign.”

“That was not on purpose.”

Zef locked eyes with Iyanka, and quickly tried to smother his grin.

“We have company,” he said, adjusting his position in the tree.

Henry didn’t look up from his work, but Milek craned his head around until he could see her, grinning when their eyes met.

“Oh good, it’s you,” he said, turning his head as he spun so he could hold her gaze. “If it was one of my lovely subjects, this could be embarrassing.”

Iyanka took a few steps into the small clearing, eyes fixed warily on the writhing vines Henry was fighting with.

“What are you doing?”

“Henry and Zef talked me into antagonizing some defenses they discovered. It appears they still work!”

That’s all my news for now, friends! Go check out my project!

Graduating YA: A Collaboration on the Journey of Young Authors

Hello hello!

It’s been a while, but I have returned! And I’m getting back into the swing of things with a collaboration of sorts. R.M. Archer (link to her blog at the bottom) reached out on Instagram looking for authors interested in examining the topic of young authors who begin by writing YA and where they go as they get older. The questions she posed are fascinating, and I’m excited to dip into my story and how my age has affected my writing! I’m long winded today, so buckle in for a bit of a rant.

I started intentionally writing when I was eleven, and right away I dove into YA fantasy. I’ve always been fascinated with stories where there’s more to the world than meets the eye, where wonder is found in the quiet, hidden places. And I saw teenagers as the perfect protagonists for my fantastical adventures: young enough I could relate to them, but older and far more mature than I was (I always did think my characters needed to be more mature than me to handle what I put them through).

I published my first book when I was sixteen, and still my main characters were older than me (my FMC in my first book was supposedly several centuries old, though she comes across as a teenager). I wrote solidly YA, complete with your garden variety tropes and cheesy romances. But I kept pushing and pushing my characters a few years ahead of myself. I found that the starry eyes of a twelve-year old viewed sixteen as far more adult like than I actually felt at sixteen. And I discovered that the magical threshold of an eighteenth birthday didn’t really change more than a general legal status.

Looking back there were two main aspects of YA that drew me in as a reader and a writer: the idea that someone close to my age could take part in these marvelous adventures, and that it gave me access to vivid worlds I could fall into without reservation. When I began my author journey I saw adult fiction, particularly fantasy, as dangerous and perhaps a little dull: full of content I tried to avoid while not containing the vitality I craved.

Ironically, the first book I wrote that I believe pushed the definition of YA also featured the first main character I’d written who was younger than myself. In Born in Darkness, the second book of my Agonizomai Series, I delved into themes that were far deeper and darker than I’d dared go in my previous stories. And in so doing I unlocked a passion that…surprised me. Previously I had shied away from harder topics out of the belief that I was too young to handle them properly, and I suppose that hesitation was linked to my need to make my characters older than myself. Surely no one my age could live this sort of life. Surely no one would listen to someone so young talking about any subject that mattered.

It wasn’t until I was nineteen that I discovered, with fear and trembling, that I did have something to say about all the themes I’d avoided. I wasn’t too young. And perhaps I could use my vivid and fantastical worlds to say far more than I’d dared to previously. Once I unlocked that passion there was no going back, and the stories I wrote afterward were deeper and grittier than my first few books.

When it came to reading, though, I was happily camped in the YA section. I’d moved away from popular books with their love triangles and Dystopias (yes, I was one of the teenage girls obsessed with all the trilogies that followed Hunger Games) and was mostly reading Indie Authors I could trust to take me away from reality without inflicting me with all the content I’d spent years trying to avoid. Some were a light escape, some posed questions I pondered a long time. But they all left me with hope and satisfaction as I closed the cover, a result I still only trusted from YA and the classics.

I didn’t fully “graduate” from YA until I was twenty-two and writing Memories of Salt and Stone. I knew from the beginning that Ronan couldn’t be a teenager, nor was she a bright-eyed early-twenties heroine I had been writing. She’d seen too much, lost too much. So, once again, I set her a few years ahead of myself. At twenty-nine she is the oldest main character I’ve written (not counting those eternally young elves and fae). And while her age is the main reason I began marketing Salt and Stone as New Adult, the story grew into the category fairly neatly. I found a new freedom in the NA category to press even deeper into those more difficult topics, to explore themes of loss, repentance, and redemption that I was wary of handing to a young teen. And in writing my own NA, I discovered other books in the category that quickly earned a place on my “favorites” shelf.

Of course, I’m not finished with YA. Most of the books I happily devour still have that YA mark, and my current work in progress is a classic YA fairytale retelling (And here I’ll insert my shameless plug for Wolf Heart). But that choice is more intentional than it used to be. Dipping into NA has offered me a place to tell those darker (but still hopeful) stories, but it also allows me the space to step back and pursue those “younger” tales with new appreciation. I suppose you could say I now have dual citizenship, hopping back and forth as my stories demand.

I still tend to avoid “adult” fantasy. But who knows? Get back to me in a decade and I might have found my place on those shelves as well.

Links to the AWESOME authors taking part in this collab:

JD Wolfwrath – August 19th

R.M. Archer – August 20th

M.C. Kennedy – August 24th

Nicole Dust – August 25th

More Fairy Tale Wonder!

Hello hello! Happy National Fairy Tale Day!!!

I have two pieces of exciting news for you! The first is that, to celebrate Fairy Tale Day, I have a gift for you: A Stone Heart Bonus Chapter. It takes place in between the final two chapters, giving you a glimpse into Ember and Dyre’s lives a few weeks after the curse broke. Click here to download it! I hope you enjoy it!

My second piece of news is that I’m writing another Fairy Tale retelling! It’s titled Wolf Heart and is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. Those who’ve read Stone Heart will probably be able to guess who the main characters are… Shout out in the comments if you know!

Ronan, Corwin, and Helia are Back!

Good grief, it’s been two months since I posted last…well, time certainly seems to fly.

I have lovely news for you! One month from now, you’re getting a Legends of Emyr novella following Ronan, Corwin, and Helia as they return to the sea where Ronan grew up! You’ll get all the lovely ocean scenes you likely expected when you sat down with Salt and Stone, as well as family reunions and insight into the Sirens of Enwylda. I already have the cover!

 

Isn’t it lovely??? I’m so incredibly happy with all of it, but I especially love Ronan’s smile and how well they captured Helia!

Here’s the blurb:

They survived the battle in Tyrzen…but will they survive the dangers of the sea?

Ronan, Corwin, and Helia have spent the months since defeating Nikita traveling Tyrzen, preserving the fragile peace between humans and Emyr. But now they receive a call for help that Ronan isn’t sure she can answer: the sirens of Brughlír, the ancient sea palace, are under attack. And her father expects Ronan to save them.
Navigating a tangled web of reunions and expectations, Ronan isn’t sure returning to the sea was a good idea. Even if her siren cousins will forgive her for leaving, what they’re asking of her now threatens to turn Ronan back into the person she left behind all those years ago. She fled Brughlír to escape being the voice of death. But if she flees again the sirens might be destroyed.
Ronan is determined to protect her family. But who is her family, beyond Corwin and Helia? And what will she give up to keep them safe?

Memories of Sea and Sky is a companion novella to the Legends of Emyr series and is designed to read after Memories of Salt and Stone.

 

This lovely little book releases February 23rd, and it’s available for preorder now! Click here to see it on the ‘zon!

As for other news, I’m hard at work writing Damir’s story, Memories of Truth and Terror. The story is giving me a bit of trouble, which is very Damir like, but I’m thoroughly enjoying it! The leading lady is the type not to take any garbage off Damir (including backing off when he’s his cranky self, not admitting that he needs help). It’s soooo good for him! 

And I have other projects in the works, but they’re not quite ready to announce yet… 

In the meantime, I hope 2024 is going well for you so far! I can’t believe we’re almost to the end of January already. Stay warm, my friends!

Signed Books and Swag!

I have exciting news, my friends! 

First, I’ve started an author Etsy shop! I’ll be selling signed books and bookish goodies through this shop. 

My other piece of news is that I’m selling book boxes! On my Etsy shop, you can now order a box that includes a signed paperback and a bunch of exclusive swag to go along with it! I have book boxes for Stone Heart, Memories of Salt & Stone, and Memories of Blood & Bone! Blood and Bone won’t ship out until I can get paperbacks, but the others are ready to go! Below is the link to the shop, and pictures of the goodies you’ll receive if you order! I had a lot of fun creating everything that goes in them, and I hope you enjoy them. Order now before I run out!

Click Here for Book Boxes!

Bonus Story!

Hello hello, my friends!

I have a bonus scene to share with you!

When my books hit review milestones, I like to release extra scenes as a thank you to everyone who’s reviewed. I’m woefully behind on them, but I’m hoping to catch up during October!

This weeks’s bonus story is for Memories of Salt and Stone to celebrate over 50 ratings (I’m combining Amazon and Goodreads). It’s a deleted scene from earlier in the book that I’ve been waiting to share with you, and you can download the PDF for free! And if you want more of our lovely trio from Salt and Stone, I’ll release another scene once we reach 100 ratings!

Click Here for the story!

For those wanting more of Ember and Dyrerisan, never fear! Since I’m so incredibly behind, I’m writing a longer bonus chapter to celebrate over 200 Amazon ratings! I’m hoping to have it ready for you by my next blog post.

And this system for extra scenes applies to all my books! If I can get 50 ratings (counting from Goodreads and Amazon) then I’ll release a bonus scene for that book! If I’ve reached that threshold on any book and you don’t see me talking about it, please send me a message in case I missed it. I love any excuse to revisit my favorite characters, and I have a whole list of bonus scene ideas just waiting to be written.

In other news, I’m gearing up for a cover reveal for Memories of Blood and Bone on my Instagram. Be watching for fun teasers as we get closer to the release! (I’m in the depths of editing, and my friends…I love this book so much. It’s just…I love it).

I hope you’re having a lovely Autumn! Now go read!

The Ashton Family

Hello hello!

We’re four days from the release of Viggo in Orlin!!! And you might just be able to order the paperback early…

Since we’re so close to the release of the next Ashton Legacies book, I figured it would be appropriate to talk a bit about the Ashton Family. You get to see more of them in Viggo’s story than Aderes. In fact, you meet enough of them that I included a simplified family tree in the front so it doesn’t get too confusing. One important note: if you feel overwhelmed by how many Ashtons there are, that’s okay. You’re meant to You don’t have to remember all the names and how they’re related each other…it’ll slowly become clear as I write more books. The New Mexico Ashtons are an enthusiastic and overwhelming bunch, and I have to keep a lot of notes to keep them all straight. One of my first projects when working out the details of Aderes in Karkhana was making a massive family tree that covered a good six feet of wall space.

If you want more information on the Ashton family than what you’ll find in the front of Viggo (such as marriages, birthdates, etc), I’ve put most of that information up on WorldAnvil! (Here’s the link) The profiles are a work in progress, but you can at least see how everybody is related to each other!

But moving beyond family trees, who is the Ashton Family?

I mentioned this around when I published Aderes, but the Ashton family began when I started to wonder what it would be like to have a story where the main character falls into another world…but they actually know what’s going on. So many stories I’ve read where the main character falls to another world revolve around the idea that they didn’t know other worlds existed before that moment, so they’re clueless and usually spend a few chapters in denial. I wanted to play with the possibilities that the person who falls through not only knows other worlds exist, they’ve been to them. Just not this one.

I could think of so many fun stories within this concept that I knew I wanted a massive, chaotic family of adventurers. And so the Ashton family was born! They’re a sprawling clan with big hearts, sharp wits, and far too much courage. And they have a LOT of stories for me to tell! I’m planning to make all of the Ashton Legacy books standalone stories, but because they all follow members of the same family there will be plenty of cameos and small threads joining them together. So far, the Ashton Legacies are also turning out to be more “cozy” than some of my other books. There are dangers and battles and high stakes, but there’s also a lot about family and just living.

One final aspect of the Ashton family that I wanted to talk about: their homestead! When I was developing the overarching details of this series, I decided that if I’m writing a fantasy series where Earth actually exists, I might as well slip in some familiar details. And so the Ashtons’  home is in my corner of New Mexico! The location I chose for their homestead is close enough to my own home that I’ve taken a lot of pictures as inspiration and to give you an idea of where Aderes and Viggo grew up when they weren’t galivanting through worlds like Tarth and Qilp. I’m uploading some below in case you want to see it! The area is near the Gila Cliff Dwellings, along the Gila River. It’s a far out of the way place (even further from an actual town than I am, which is saying something). Perfect for a sprawling homestead surrounded by gateways to foreign worlds! I took all these pictures with my phone, so…they’re not perfect. But hopefully they’ll offer a fun glimpse into the world of the Ashtons!

Ashton water crossing Gila River Bluffs above homestead Ashton gate Ashton driveway Ashton field

Lots of Editing…and Pumpkin Spice!

Hello hello, my friends!

It’s almost Autumn!!! This morning we had a drizzly rain storm, my Mom bought me chysanthmums to welcome me home from a trip, and I am fully in the mood for warm colors and pumpkin spice coffee (is it “basic” of me? Perhaps…but it tastes so good!) On said trip, I also happened to find some beautiful plaid fabric for a skirt, which I’m hoping to incorporate into this year’s First Day of Fall outfit. Truthfully, on THE first day of Fall I’ll be attending a wedding, and my dress isn’t very Fall-like (though it makes me feel like I’m wearing starlight, so I’m not complaining). But! I can’t go without my fun tradition, so I’ll be celebrating the beginning of fall a day late. And if any of you dear readers have ways of celebrating the beginning of the seasons, I would love to know about it!

Onto book business: I’m neck deep in editing! I have the proof for Viggo in Orlin, and I only have copyedits to go before I submit the final files! It’s almost here, my friends! The papberback book is so tiny…it’s by far the smallest work I’ve published. I love it!

Memories of Blood and Bone is pretty much the opposite. I just finished a major round of plot edits, which involved adding several new scenes. Aaaaand, Blood and Bone is now over 170k words long. The second part of the book alone is about the length of all of Memories of Salt and Stone. But oh I am in love with this book. Every piece of it reaches out and takes hold of my soul. I hope when I’m done buffing it up that it captures you all similarly! 

So…I decided to delay Blood and Bone’s cover reveal until after Viggo in Orlin is released (except for my newsletter folks…they got it early as a thanks for letting me invade their email inbox). But! I wanted to give you some special treat, so below you can find an excerpt from the beginning of Memories of Blood and Bone. Enjoy! And happy almost Autumn!

Memories of Blood and Bone, Chapter 1*The material below is somewhat unedited, so please forgive typos. And you know…don’t steal it and all that.*

A wet breeze runs its chilled fingers up the back of my neck, whispering haunting secrets that I know better than to listen for. Instead, I hunch my shoulders and throw my hood over my head, wishing spring came a little more quickly in the forests of Byrask. It might be warm enough for us to be out and hunting rather than cooped up in some rough boarding house, but that doesn’t mean it’s warm enough for reasonable people to be out and traveling. So far, it seems even the Emyr we hunt haven’t braved the early spring to cause their mischief. Bounties are scarce.

But no matter how I feel about the cold, wet taste of Byrask’s thawing days, I didn’t argue with my brother when he said it was time to move on. I know as well as he that we couldn’t have stayed longer. Not unless we intended to indenture ourselves to our host.

“Head up, Dani,” Damir mutters, just as a wagon sloshes past. I jump to the side after my brother, grimacing at the specks of mud that splash up on my cloak.

“What’re you dreaming up now?” Damir asks, as we press on down the muddy streets of this ragged town. It’s called Dodesi, I think.

“A warm fire,” I reply, stiffening as the next breeze tries ripping my hood from my head.

“Better to dream up a way to get one,” Damir says quietly, nodding to a man who passes with a hand cart. He notices the insignia hanging from Damir’s neck and goes pale. “I might be able to barter for a spot in the stables tonight, but that’s it.”

I groan, resisting the urge to throw my head back toward the cloudy sky. I know the perilous state of our finances, but still my cold and aching limbs rebel against the idea of another night spent with the animals.

“If I wanted to muck out stables for the rest of my life, I could’ve stayed in Ryst.”

“You’re welcome to go back, if you’re missing it that badly.”

I draw back at the growl in his voice, blinking rapidly. And I bite my lip as I turn my eyes down to my muddy boots. I won’t be hurt. He’s as tired as I am.

Winter felt far longer than usual, this year: spent in an overcrowded boarding house full of people who viewed us as barely a step above servants. To them, we’re no different than the rat-catcher cats kept on large estates. They don’t seem to care that the “pests” we catch are often capable and willing to kill whoever stands in their way.

The fact that I took up sewing and mending for the mistress of the house, as a way to supplement our limited resources, didn’t help. And though I didn’t mind the work—in fact, I secretly enjoyed the relaxing regularity of it—I didn’t like the way the other boarders treated us either. Sometimes I think dragons and rusalki are easier to deal with than high-class humans wanting to prove their superiority. At least with Emyr, I’m allowed to brandish a dagger in their face.

“Old Gurij would be glad of your help,” Damir says, with a forced laugh. He slows, falling back to my side to elbow me. I know what he’s doing. Damir seldom apologies with words, but he has a dozen other subtle ways to say he’s sorry. I give in to the effort with a forced smile.

“Are you sure about that?” I ask. “Last I remember, he said he didn’t want me anywhere near his horses.”

“But you’re grown up now.”

I chuckle. “Such a comfort that is. Now if I tried stealing, I’d know how to choose a horse that wouldn’t carry me right to his feet.”

Soon enough, our laughter is natural, and it brings a little warmth back into my chest. No, I don’t want to sleep in one more stable loft with only the warmth of the horses below us to guard against the cold. But I will, as long as I’m with Damir.

We fall back into silence as another wagon rattles toward us. It isn’t so much the gloomy driver that makes my steps slow, but the reaction the wagon gathers as it passes. Wide stares, gasps of horror… One woman begins to cry as she hides her children’s eyes. A man stumbles to an alley to vomit on the ground. I don’t have to guess what’s being carried through Dodesi’s center.

Turning to Damir, I meet his grim look with one of my own, and when he steps forward, I fall into his shadow to follow. When we’re close enough to see what, or who, the wagon carries, I bite my lip and steal myself for the sight. And I understand the townspeople’s reactions.

The body of a man is laid over an old tarp, one that’ll never be free of the blood now staining it. His torso is ripped open, his heart clasped in hands crossed over his chest. This by itself is gruesome, and it’s likely what overcame the man still hunched over in the alley. But to me his face is the worst part: his mouth is open in a silent scream, twisted forever into a look of mindless terror.

Memories stir, reminding me of sights I’ve witnessed worse even than this. I have enough experience with bodies and blood to keep myself steady, rather than give in to the horror and nausea the citizens around us suffer from. I press my lips in a thin line and force my eyes to catalog details other than the obvious and grisly cause of his death. Nothing can erase that sickened twist of pity deep in my chest, but I won’t let it take me.

His clothes are thick and sturdy, dyed subdued shades of brown and green. Weapons are piled in the wagon alongside the body, though I can’t tell if the blood on the blades is his own or that of his enemy. I don’t need to study the medallion hanging around his neck to know that this man was an Emyr hunter…and it doesn’t take much to guess that he met his end by the hand of whatever quarry he’d been hunting.

Beside me, Damir curses. I lift my eyes to his face with a silent question.

“Troian,” he says.

I look back to that distorted facsimile of a face, now searching for something familiar. And another memory surfaces, of dim light and bland food, of rowdy crowds all pressing in a bit too close. If that mouth were twisted in disgust, if those eyes were alive and lit with base desire…yes, I know that face. I only met Troian once, but the way he watched me made me want nothing else but to hide behind Damir. I spit on his shoes, instead.

And yet, even knowing his name, that pity deep within me continues to well up in my chest. I still feel sorrow at his death, even recognizing the man I would’ve cut to pieces if he tried to touch me. Even knowing that Troian was hardly above the monsters he spent his life killing. Watching his corpse disappear as the wagon rounds a bend, I wonder why that is. But then, aren’t monsters the ones to be most pitied?

I know better than to voice that thought to Damir, not that it matters. He’s already left my side in search of a villager not spilling their supper into the mud. I let him do the talking and turn my eyes to the people still frozen in the streets.

Their horror is already fading. Oh, there are plenty of disturbed glances cast toward that retreating wagon, but already their reaction wanes. Troian wasn’t from Dodesi. He wasn’t their neighbor or their friend, or even an old family rival. He was a hunter: belonging nowhere but venturing wherever he pleased in search of his bounty. Few hunters are beloved outside of family bonds, even among the guild. Given what I know of how he spent his time outside of hunting, I’m a little surprised I don’t find any relief in the faces surrounding me.

But some of the people don’t move on with their day so quickly. Some glance furtively around them, slow to continue on their path. I’m careful not to catch their eyes, wary of spooking them. But I recognize what makes thoughts of that corpse linger in their minds. Guilt. Which means, at the very least, that they know what Troian was hunting.

I store their faces away, despite the fact that I won’t have occasion to seek them out. I’d only need whatever information they have if we were to take whatever bounty led Troian to his end. And I have no desire to face whatever Emyr dealt such a bloody, cruel death.

Damir’s coming back. I turn to find him looking at me with a grin that’s unsettling so soon after what we’ve witnessed, and that makes my heart sink down into my soggy boots.

“I found our next job.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

Now Damir’s smile fades into a scowl. “You haven’t even heard what it is, yet.”

It doesn’t matter. I don’t whatever bounty killed Troian. But as Damir stars at me, one eyebrow raised, I find it harder to hold his gaze.

“At least let me tell you what I learned before you decide against it,” he says.

My eyes are trained on my hands now, chapped from the cold air.

“Fine,” I whisper.

Damir doesn’t explain right away. First, we go to the weathered inn, where Damir convinces the man in charge to allow us to spend the night in his stable loft. It isn’t until the sunlight is abandoning the world back to cold wind and frost that Damir tells me what he learned about the bounty that Troian died pursuing. It sounds as dangerous as I feared.

A member of the lower nobility has set a bounty on a creature’s head that was large enough to have housewives consider the risk. Rumors must’ve exaggerated it. No one offers that much for a single Emyr, not even a rusalka. But then, Troian wasn’t one to take on small bounties.

However, the man also said that Troian wasn’t the first to die in the hunt. In fact, if rumor could be at all trusted, Troian is only the most recent in a long string of hunters to be carted out with their bloody heart in their hands.

“I don’t like it,” I say, shaking my head.

“So you’ve said.”

“You know as well as I do that whatever his flaws, Troian was more experienced than either of us. If this Emyr killed him, what’ll it do to us?”

“I just want to talk to him,” Damir says. “He’s in town. We can’t afford to overlook this opportunity.”

“I don’t know about you, but I prefer my heart inside my ribcage.” I stab the pitchfork deeper into the straw to emphasize my point, throwing a glare at my brother’s back.

Damir sighs, and I know he’s rolling his eyes at me. Me, the cautious little sister. If he says one thing about my cowardice, I’ll remind him of the times where my caution has saved our lives. But when he speaks, he takes a different angle.

“It’s either take this job, or resign ourselves to a career cleaning after rich men’s horses.”

The fact that we’re standing in the stables, cleaning out stalls that smell of far more than just straw, only accentuates his point. I turn my attention back to my work with a scowl. And I glare at the black gelding I’m sharing the stall with, daring him to kick me. I’ll kick back.

Even after cleaning the two dozen stalls surrounding us, we’ll be lucky to get the scrapings from the stew pot and yesterday’s crusts in return. If this inn’s usual stable boy wasn’t at home with a broken arm, we wouldn’t even get that much.

I spread clean straw on the stall floor and retreat when the gelding huffs at me, stamping a hoof. I’m glad when the stall door is locked, and when I find the next in line empty. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s clean.

With a sigh, I pull open the door and set to work. No, Emyr hunters aren’t beloved. Nor, unless they’ve made a proper name for themselves, are they particularly respected. At least, not until an upyr or giant comes wandering through. Not until they need us.

The clacking of hooves on stone makes me straighten, ducking into the central aisle in time to see a man dressed in firs and silks drop his reins in front of Damir.

“Unsaddle him and give him a good rub down,” the man orders with a negligent wave of his hand. “All this mud has made a mess of both of us. Polish the tack and I might pay you an extra denga.”

My throat tightens, and words rise that I long to spill into this musty stable. We aren’t servants. We don’t belong to this man, whoever he is. But a wary look at Damir makes me step forward to pick up those reins, despite how my shoulders already ache. I know my brother well enough to recognize that rising anger, and to know what it leads to if left unchecked. Our dignity isn’t worth getting tossed out into the frost.

“Good girl,” the man says, flipping a denga coin in my direction.

I grit my teeth, fingering the knives in my belt as the man turns away in a cloud of furs. It’s not worth it. Picking fights with arrogant men who tip me like a barmaid isn’t the way to build a good reputation, hunter or not. The stable is better than the ground.

But even with those reminders, it takes me a moment to release my belt and turn away. I search for the coin and find it beside a pile of manure we haven’t disposed of yet. It’s not worth much, not even enough to buy a meal most places, but I stoop to retrieve it and try not to consider if I would still take it if it had fallen in the pile. I know I would’ve.

As I lead the man’s horse closer to the tack room to unsaddle him, I feel my resistance to Damir withering. I still don’t believe taking this bounty is a good idea, but…I don’t want to keep going like this. I have no desire to follow Troian to the grave, but I also don’t want to starve. Any hunt that would keep us out of stables for the next few months might be a risk well earned. If I can convince Damir to be cautious.

“Change your mind, yet?” Damir calls.

I don’t deign to answer him. Yes, I’ve changed my mind. But that doesn’t mean I intend to let Damir rub it in. This hunt sounds like it’s for the haughty and the desperate. And though I don’t belong among hunters like Troian, who take risks for the sake of renown…apparently, I am among the desperate. 

Random Update

Hello hello my friends!

This summer is passing by quickly, isn’t it? My biggest piece of news is that I have finished TWO book drafts in the past few weeks. The first is Viggo in Orlin (yes, I am rather behind, but it’s proving to be simple editing so we’re still looking good for that September 30th release!). The second is my monolith book, Memories of Blood and Bone! The rought draft is 162,000 words long, friends! I very much doubt that’s a record I’ll be breaking any time soon. 

I haven’t delved into editing Blood and Bone yet (I’m focusing on getting Viggo ready to send out to my ARC team), but I DID recieve the final files for the cover last week! It is GORGEOUS. It fits the vibe of the story so well, and I am very excited to show it to you all! I haven’t decided when the cover reveal will be yet, but probably soon. It’s so pretty I want to show it to you all! 

As for a personal update…there’s been a few changes in my family recently that have made it necessary for me to find a new rhythm (my parents both get up very early, and our house is very small, so…lots of naps .) But it’s going well! I’m happy with the progress I’m making writing. Now if only I could improve on the side of marketing and creating content for social media… (Reels are hard, friends).

As for hobbies, I’m currently working on an outfit using two thrifted dresses, some extra material, and the table loom my family has. If you’re on Instagram, I will definitely be posting pictures when I’m finished. It has a sea-washed vibe to it that I LOVE. 

And that’s all for now, friends! Perhaps my next post will come with a cover reveal….

Free Book and a Cover Reveal

 Hello hello, friends!

I have two exciting pieces of news for you! The first is the cover reveal for the second Ashton Legacies book, Viggo in Orlin! Isn’t is stunning? I can’t decide what my favorite part is: the characters, the background, the swirling magic around the gateway… MoorDesign Books continues to awe me with their skills and attention to detail.

Some details about Viggo in Orlin: First, it’s going to be shorter than my other books, a novella rather than a full novel. So rather than a all-night binge it’s more a of a light evening read. Viggo’s story (at least this one, I might write more about him) isn’t quite as involved as Aderes’s. Second, the release is currently set for September 30th. I’m going to try to stick to that, but being away for a month has put me a bit behind. Lord willing, I won’t have to change anything.

I hope you enjoy this story, friends. Viggo’s voice is very distinct, and has been from the very first page I wrote. You also get to find out more about the Ashton family in this one, and maybe even pay a visit to their homestead! One interesting note is that this story takes place while Aderes is missing, and it includes a few glimpses into the effect her disappearance had on her family.

Anyway, here’s the preorder link. Keep a lookout on my social media for sneak peeks!

 

 

My second piece of news is that Memories of Salt and Stone is FREE August 1st through the 5th! This sale is a part of a Fantasy Romance promotion, so if you click the image below you can find TWENTY fantasy books $2.99 or lower for the rest of this week.

I still can’t believe Memories of Salt and Stone is a part of it. This promo includes some big names (Tara Grayce, Sylvia Mercedes, Sarah K. L. Wilson…), and it’s so sureal to see one of my books next to theirs. 

As far as content goes, Low Spice means that the romance is fade to black at most, although I know some are a lot lower level than that even. I haven’t read all the books on this list, but the ones I have are absolutely AMAZING. Even if you already own Memories of Salt and Stone, you should definitely check out this promo. 

 

That’s all my news for now. Go forth and explore all those books!