Samantha MacLeod's Blog, page 3

The Prince and his Knight

The Night Watch, my polyamorous fantasy romance originally published by Less Than Three Press, went out of print earlier this year (click here for that story).

But never fear, fans of unconventional fantasy romance, M/M erotica, and happy endings! The story of Prince Liam and his childhood friend Cerdec will return on November 12.

It may or may not still be called The Night Watch. That’s one of many questions that I swear I’ll have figured out by November 12…

[image error]Actual footage of Samantha MacLeod

Until then, here’s the newly reworked blurb.

When Prince Liam returns to his kingdom after five years of training at the magical Academy, he’s only missed one person: Cerdec, the boy who had been Liam’s closest childhood friend. But Cerdec is now a knight pledged to protect the kingdom, and Liam fears his one-time friend has forgotten their stolen moments of tenderness.

Newly-sworn knight Cerdec has had no shortage of lovers since Liam left the kingdom, but he’s never felt as close to them as he once felt to the prince. Now that Liam has returned, Cerdec is prepared to serve as his personal guard, even if the position torments him with a longing he’s terrified to voice.

And even if it means he must welcome and protect the foreign princess betrothed to Liam.

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

Is There Life After Fenris?

The Complete Fenris Series is my sixth book in nine months.

If you count the short stories (The Trickster and Tempting Fenris Wolf), I’ve released one book a month in 2019.

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To be honest, that schedule is just too much.

I work three jobs in addition to running the Samantha MacLeod empire (adjunct philosophy professor, adult education instructor, and itinerant journalist). While I’ve seen great results in my writing career this year, I’ve also been forced to admit that I just can’t keep this up. 

So, I’m not releasing a damn thing next month!

In November, though, I’ll re-release my polyamorous fantasy romance The Night Watch. 

And for 2020, I’ve got big plans involving a new pen name! Plus, a snarky fire mage and the take-no-crap guard with a broken heart who was hired to escort him through the Demon Forest…

Stay tuned!

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

My Inner Bad-Ass Bitch

The MacLeod family had a rough August. (Click here to read all about it.)

At some point during the stress of late summer, one of my friends told me: “You just need to find your inner bad-ass bitch.”

Now, dear reader, I’m not 100% sure I even have an inner bad-ass bitch. If I do, she’s been pretty damn quiet for the past, oh, twenty years (during which I’ve been a mom, a teacher, a Divinity School graduate student, a library volunteer, and a holy spec paladin)

But I’m going to be 40 this winter, and that seems as opportune a time as any to discover my inner bad-ass bitch, wherever she’s been hiding, so that together we can both start singing along with the guy who has no more fucks to give.

So, after much thought, I decided my inner bad-ass bitch has purple hair.

[image error]And there she is

I now have purple highlights in my hair.

They’re kinda subtle, much like my inner bad-ass bitch, but they’re the real deal. And they’re permanent.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be over here rocking out to Elle King’s Baby Outlaw and making some bad-ass chocolate muffins.

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

Release Day!

Sol Eriksen is out of options, and nearly out of time.

Promised to a cruel king’s harem, Sol’s freedom is doomed to end as summer turns to fall. When Sol meets a distractingly beautiful stranger who claims to be the legendary monster Fenris wolf, Sol thinks he must be a madman or a demon. She knows she shouldn’t listen to him. Or trust him.

And she should not, under any circumstances, kiss him again.

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The Complete Fenris Series – my five-book epic fantasy romance inspired by Norse mythology (and with the bonus short story Tempting Fenris Wolf) – is now available in one place!

Heck, it’s even available in one massive paperback.

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So, you can now join Fenris and Sol in the Ironwood Forest with no fear of cliffhanger endings!

That’s good, because there are plenty of other things to fear in the Ironwood Forest…

Click here for The Complete Fenris Series

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

It’s Enormous!

My paperback proof of The Complete Fenris Series arrived this afternoon. And oh. My. Fenris.

It’s huge.
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As it turns out, 681 pages of epic fantasy romance take up a LOT of space. This thing is a freaking brick. You could probably kill someone with this much paper. (Please don’t try!)

It’s a weird feeling to hold this massive tome. Some part of me still doesn’t believe I actually wrote this; some days, to be honest, I’m still surprised I’ve written anything.

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“You wrote that?” my five-year-old asked this afternoon when I pulled this giant book out of the Amazon box. “All of that? On your computer?”

Why, yes.
Yes, I did.

To order your own paperback brick of The Complete Fenris Series, click here.

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

 

ALL THE FENRIS!

The Fenris Series – the entire five-book, epic fantasy romance inspired by Norse mythology – is now live on Amazon!

And what do readers think?

[image error]Awwwwwww, thank you Adriana!

If you want to start the Fenris series, the first book in the series, The Monster’s Lover, is only .99.

Click here for The Monster’s Lover
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Or, you could buy… ALL THE FENRIS!

The Complete Fenris Series – containing all five books in the Fenris Series plus the bonus short story Tempting Fenris Wolf – comes out on September 9th.

It will cost $9.99 on release day… but you can pre-order it now for just $2.99.

The Night Watch Retired… for now

It’s with a heavy heart that I report the closing of Less Than Three Press, publishers of my polyamorous fantasy romance The Night Watch.

Sadly, this means Liam and Cerdec’s romance is no longer available. You can still read the reviews on Goodreads, or even the first chapter on this blog, but the story itself has been taken out of circulation.

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But don’t panic!

I plan on re-releasing The Night Watch sometime this fall, with a shiny new cover, under Vestal Valley Press.

Stay tuned for more details!

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

IRL: Mental Illness and The Monster’s Lover

My husband is bipolar.

I haven’t written about this before. Partially because I don’t enjoy writing nonfiction (occasional articles for the local newspaper notwithstanding), and partially because it’s been so well-managed that it hasn’t impacted our life in almost a decade.

Mostly, I haven’t written about mental illness because I don’t want my husband to be defined by that label. He’s many things – a Ph.D. in organic chemistry, a talented and beloved teacher, a helpful beta reader, one hell of a good cook – and I don’t want his accomplishments or his role in my life to be reduced to a person with a serious mental difference.

But last Monday, after nine years of stability, he had a manic episode.

I drove him to the ER and waited with him for six hours. On Wednesday, I drove him to his first day of treatment at an exceptionally good outpatient center (McGeachy Hall at Maine Medical Center, if you’re interested). And, on Thursday, my children broke my laptop. The laptop that holds everything I’ve written in the past five years, from The Trickster’s Lover to my current fantasy romance WIP.

Oh, yeah… and we got a puppy two days before my husband had to go to the ER.

[image error]Her name is Luna. She enjoys peeing inside and destroying things.
So.
It’s been emotional.

On top of all that, The Monster Freed came out last week. The Fenris Series, my epic 200,000-word fantasy romance inspired by Norse mythology, is now complete.

But, between the dog, my husband’s treatment, and the broken computer, I just didn’t have it in me to promote the damn thing.

I have been thinking about it though, and here’s why: With Fenris, I wanted to create a romantic lead who wasn’t neuro-typical. Fenris isn’t bipolar; still, his physical tics, difficulty understanding social cues, and overall desire to run away into the woods were all my attempt to reflect a level of mental difference.

The Fenris Series isn’t my only piece influenced by mental illness, of course. My own social anxiety came through in The Trickster’s Lover, and my struggles with post-partum depression were reflected in The Wolf’s Lover. But The Fenris Series is closely influenced not only by what it’s like to struggle with mental differences but also what it’s like to love someone who does. It’s run through the filter of a fantasy world and epic mythology-level struggles, but parts of the Fenris series – especially Loki’s conversations with Sol in The Monster Freed – come directly from my own life.

Don’t worry; we’re all doing okay over here in the MacLeod household – the puppy is slowly learning not to sink her dagger-like little puppy fangs into us, my computer was actually repaired by the angels at Portland’s Necessary Technology, and my husband was discharged from the treatment center after four days with a new perspective on his diagnosis and what he calls “about six months worth of therapy.”

And guess what?

The Fenris Series has a happy ending.

Because I don’t just imagine that it’s possible to live a happy, fulfilling life after being diagnosed with a serious mental illness.

Reader, I know it’s possible.
[image error]And we got married in a castle. For real.

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

Cover Reveal Wednesday!

The Fenris Series ends this month with the release of The Monster Freed, the final installment of this epic five-book fantasy romance inspired by Norse mythology.

I know what you’re thinking…

WHAT ABOUT THE COVER?!?

[image error]Because this is NOT the cover, I promise!

Well, stay tuned, my friends. The Monster Freed cover reveal comes your way this Wednesday!

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Unless you’re on my Awesome List, in which case you’ll get to see it tomorrow. (Not on the Awesome List? Click here to join.)

See you then!

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.

First Chapter Friday: The Monster Freed

If you’ve been hanging out on that cliffhanger ending from The Monster Chained, allow me to give you a little sneak peek at what comes next…

The Monster Freed

CHAPTER ONE

Cold water closed around my body as Týr pulled me beneath the waves of Lake Amsvartnir. His hand felt like a band of iron over my lips, and his arm crushed my chest against his body. He’s killing me, I thought, as the water swept over my eyes. I imagined the life growing within me, the child Fenris and I made with our love and passion. Suddenly, I had the strength to pull back my arm and ram my elbow into Týr’s stomach.

He grunted, but his grip did not loosen. I pulled back again—

Wait. He grunted? Underwater?

Slowly, I eased my eyes open. They did not burn with the sting of fresh water. Instead, gray mists swirled before me. My dress clung to my ankles, heavy and wet. I staggered forward, tripping over the sopping fabric of my own skirts. The weight of Týr’s body sagged against my back.

“Quiet,” Týr whispered.

He lurched forward, shoving me before him. The mists parted. A small cottage wavered before us, undulating like a ship on the water. Týr groaned with such agony and frustration that a stab of sympathy shot through my stunned consciousness. The cottage solidified. Týr staggered toward it, pushing me before him.

My feet slipped over grass. The mist vanished, leaving Týr and me on a moonlit hillside before the neat little cottage. Candles glowed cheerfully in the windows. Týr let go of my shoulder and threw himself across the cottage’s arched wooden door.

“Now!” he cried.

The door opened, and Týr collapsed to his knees. His body curled around his injured arm; his face and chest were streaked with dark crimson.

A woman screamed. I had just enough time to recognize the person standing in the doorway before Týr staggered back onto his feet, this time pressing his lone remaining, blood-smeared hand against her lips.

Freyja. Týr had brought me to Freyja’s house.

The two of them staggered backward. A moment later, Freyja appeared in the doorway, frantically waving me inside. I stared at her, my mind refusing to make sense of her gestures. Týr’s blood was streaked across the right side of her face, reaching from her lips to her ear. It could have been a kind of armor, I thought. Bloody, beautiful armor. My entire body felt strange, as though I were still underwater, and my thoughts were floating away from me.

“Get her in!” Týr snapped.

Freyja came through the doorway, grabbed my arms, and yanked me over the lintel. I blinked in the candlelit warmth of Freyja’s house. Týr leaned heavily on a chair. Blood spurted dully from the stump at the end of his left wrist. His face had gone as pale as the first snow that had blanketed the Ironwood. 

“Fenris is chained,” Týr said. His voice sounded as wan and pale as he looked.

The words snapped me out of my revery.

“You don’t have much time,” Týr continued, speaking to Freyja as if I wasn’t even there. “You know where to take her?”

Freyja nodded. Týr pushed off against the chair, came to his feet, and swayed forward. Freyja caught him.

“My father,” Týr panted. “He’ll be…after her.”

“I understand,” Freyja murmured.

“Because of the baby,” Týr said.

“Yes. I know.”

Týr rocked backward. His eyes rolled up in his head and, for a moment, I thought he would collapse again.

“Go,” Freyja urged. “Heal your arm. You’re no good to anyone dead.”

Týr closed his eyes. I shivered as the chill from my wet dress soaked into my skin. Dead. Týr looked dead already.

“Please go,” Freyja whispered. “Don’t let this kill you. Don’t let your father kill you.”

With a sigh, Týr raised his head. Freyja opened the door to her cottage and muttered something soft and musical under her breath. As I watched, the moonlit expanse of grass faded. A moment later, I was staring at the wooden walls of Val-hall. Voices murmured in the distance. The scent of roast meat drifted through the air.

“Go,” Freyja urged.

Týr staggered forward. He dragged himself through the door, and Freyja pulled it closed behind him. I stared at the dark pool of blood where Týr had been standing. Freyja spun on her heels to face me.

“Under the table,” she barked. “Now!”

Behind her, the solid wood of her door looked like it was melting. Now, instead of polished wooden planks, all I could see was her front step. A dark trail of Týr’s blood led across the grass. Beyond the blood-smeared path, a full moon shone down on the churning ocean.

“Your door—” I stammered.

Freyja clicked her tongue. “Yes, it’s magical. Every damned thing in this place is magical. Now, get under the table.”

I frowned and turned to her table. A heavy, red cloth lay draped across the surface, its soft folds brushing the floor. My head felt thick and heavy, as though I’d been frozen in a block of ice.

“Why–” I asked.

Freyja glanced at her door, then sucked in her breath with a sharp hiss. I followed her gaze. There, across the grass, a brilliant rainbow spun in the darkness. Fear spiked in the pit of my stomach. Freyja’s hands closed around my cheeks, forcing me to meet her eyes.

“You carry the child of the man Óðinn just imprisoned.” She glanced at her doorway, now as smooth and transparent as a sheet of glass, then fixed me again with her dark eyes. “Do you understand why you’re in danger?”

My mind churned. The image of three lonely graves floated upward from my memories, and my eyes blurred with tears. Curse me, I hadn’t understood the danger when I first ran away with Fenris. All we’d wanted was to be together, to love each other. To have a family. 

“Óðinn can’t risk your child growing up to seek vengeance,” Freyja said. “Fuck, Óðinn can’t risk you growing up to seek vengeance.”

A long, slow shiver worked its way up my spine. My hands crept around the gentle swell of my stomach and clenched together.

“Sol, if Óðinn finds you, he will kill you,” Freyja growled. “Now, get under the stars-damned table.”

She released my cheeks, and I dropped to my knees. I shoved the red cloth aside, crawled under the table, and pulled my knees to my chest. My dress clung to my skin, raising shivers. A vast, howling darkness opened inside my chest, something like the mass of Fenris’s body rising against the sky, blotting out the very stars; I pressed my hands over my lips to keep it from escaping.

A sharp rap echoed from Freyja’s door. I jumped, hitting my head on the table. My heart rose in my throat until it felt like it would block the air to my lungs.

“Just a minute,” Freyja called with perfect, melodious calm.

“Open your damn door,” a man barked from the other side.

I froze. That was Óðinn’s voice. The heavy red cloth draped across Freyja’s table suddenly seemed thin and insubstantial.

“In a minute,” Freyja sang.

There was a loud huff from the other side of the door, followed by the scrape of a chair across Freyja’s floor. Wooden chair legs butted into the red fabric. I pulled my knees closer to my chest. Was she trying to hide me? The rage and terror of a moment ago began to drain out of me, replaced by a cold sort of peace. If Freyja meant to betray me to Óðinn, then my life was over. The underside of this table was one of the last things I’d see in the living Realms.

Freyja’s door hummed as it swung open. 

“Thank the Realms you’re here,” Freyja said with an exaggerated sigh. “Your son just absolutely fucking ruined my dress! And don’t even get me started on the front steps— Oh, stars! What happened to you?”

“Týr was here?” Óðinn asked.

“Uh, yes. Bleeding like a stuck pig. Look what he did to my dress!”

Heavy footsteps boomed across Freyja’s floor. 

“Was he alone?”

Freyja made a sort of disgusted growl. “I’m expecting you to replace this entire outfit. He’s your son, after all.”

Óðinn snorted. “Was he alone?”

“Of course he was alone!” Freyja snapped. “Who in the Nine damned Realms would he have brought with him?”

The footsteps approached Freyja’s table. My breath caught in my throat. The sound of my own heartbeat suddenly seemed very loud in the still, small space beneath the table. A chair squealed across the floor, then bumped into the red fabric. A moment later, Óðinn’s heavy boots kicked into the space beside my thighs. I stared at the thick, black mud on their soles with horrified fascination.

“What did Týr want?” Óðinn asked.

“Oh, he wanted a quick fuck before he bled to death!” Freyja spat.

Óðinn sighed. His boots scraped across the floor as he stretched his feet. I pressed myself against the far leg of Freyja’s table to avoid touching him.

“What did he say?” Óðinn’s voice was calm and cold.

Freyja huffed. “Well, between the screaming and the moaning, he didn’t exactly say much.”

Silence. Freyja’s feet shifted across the floor, then came to rest next to Óðinn’s chair.

“What happened to him?” she asked, this time in a much softer voice. “Where were you?”

Óðinn pulled back his feet, and his hand thudded across the tabletop. I flinched at the noise.

“I was doing my stars-damned job,” Óðinn said. “Keeping this fucking Realm safe. Keeping all of you insolent little shits protected.”

Freyja’s feet scuffed against the stone as she backed up. “And here, for just a moment, I thought you were trying to get back in my good graces.”

Óðinn’s chair squealed against the floor as he shoved away from the table. “Why was Týr here? Just tell me, Freyja.”

Freyja sighed. My chest tightened. Stars, please. No.

“I think it was a mistake.” Freyja sounded utterly defeated. “You know he’s shit when it comes to controlling the Bifröst, even if he’s not missing body parts. I think he just crashed here.”

Óðinn stood. I watched a clump of dried mud fall from the heel of his boot to shatter on Freyja’s floor.

“He didn’t say anything?”

“He wouldn’t even tell me what had happened.” Freyja’s voice was high and tight now; it sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“Fine,” Óðinn sighed. “You sent him away?”

“I sent him to Val-hall. But, damn it, you should probably check on him. I don’t know if he even made it to the mead.”

Óðinn’s boots stomped away from the table, and I dared to breathe again. The door hummed as it opened.

“Óðinn?” Freyja asked.

Óðinn snorted in acknowledgment.

“What happened?”

“Ah, Freyja.” There was a silence, then a wet sort of sucking noise. I shuddered. Stars, had she just kissed Óðinn?

“Don’t worry about it,” Óðinn said. His voice sounded thicker and deeper. “It’s over.”

There was another thick, slurping kiss before the door closed with a soft smack. The room fell silent. I forced myself to count to thirty before I shifted forward on my hands and knees and lifted a corner of the red cloth.

Freyja leaned against her door, her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a strange, almost pained expression which vanished as soon as she saw me.

“Well, that’s that,” she said. “Come on out.”

Hesitantly, I crawled from beneath the table, pulled myself to my feet, and wrapped my arms around my shivering, wet chest.

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

Her brow wrinkled. “Do what?”

“Why did you ask Óðinn what happened? You know what happened.”

Her composed, serene expression faltered, but only for a moment. 

“Óðinn and I have a very complicated relationship. I suppose…” Her voice drifted off, and she stared at the translucent pane of her front door as if she could still see Óðinn standing on the other side.

“It’s what he expected me to say,” she finally said. “And maybe I hoped he’d do the right thing.”

Her face contorted into a frown, then smoothed into her typical smile. Armor, I thought. 

“Anyway,” she said breezily. “He’ll be watching the house for a couple of days.”

My heart jolted against my breastbone. “A couple of days? But, Fenris—”

“Hush.” Freyja’s smile widened, and her eyes danced. “There’s a back door, darling.”

[image error] The Monster Freed  mood board from my Pinterest page

The Monster Freed comes out July 30. Preorder now and save yourself a buck!

Click here to preorder

Like what you’ve read? Click here to join my newsletter and I’ll send you a free copy of Tam Lin, my sexy modern take on the Scottish folktale.