A.L. Knorr's Blog, page 3

Sneak Peek at Cobalt

Chapter One
Gina

I need to get out of New York. I can’t breathe here right now; the whole city stinks of betrayal and fear. It’s amazing how an event in one’s life can transform a beloved skyline into a place of darkness and danger. I need space—the calming effect of sea air—I don’t care where I go or how I escape, as long as it’s toward the ocean.

After paying the taxi driver, with crumpled bills from the pocket of my skirt, I get out of the yellow cab that has brought me to Chelsea Pier. Vessels of all kinds promise to expose passengers to the delights of vast open water: the cry of seagulls, the scent of salt, the sun sparkling on water of deepest blue.

A handsome white ship draws my eye—a four-masted sailing vessel, regal, beautiful and, best of all, preparing to depart. It’s called Cobalt Girl, and it’s perfect. It isn’t the first time I’ve stowed away on a sailing vessel—running away is an art I perfected in my youth—but it will be the first time I leave with a breaking heart and in a rush, not even bothering to grab my purse. I have no ID, not much money, and no change of clothes. I even left my cell phone at home. If I were human, it would present a challenge. But I am a siren. Problems like this are easily solved with just a few words. Not the breaking heart part, of course, but the rest is mere logistics.

A line of tourists makes their way up the gangway, helped up the ladder and over the side of the ship by a young man in a crew uniform. Further down the ship’s side, crew members load bags and trunks while the passengers present their tickets. What I need is a break in the line so I can have one of the boarding team all to myself. The last thing I want is to be overheard controlling a crew member by a fellow passenger.

I linger on the harbor pavement until the passengers have boarded and only one staff member remains. Approaching the young man at the top of the gangway in the classic navy and white striped t-shirt, white shorts and deck shoes, I fake a smile, which he returns with a genuine one.

“Boarding, Miss?” he asks.

“Yes. I’m really looking forward to the trip.” I begin to climb the gangway. Once I am on Cobalt Girl, I can find a corner to brood in, unbothered, unrecognized and unnoticed.

He holds up a clipboard. “Our digital system is down right now, I apologize. We’re doing this the old-fashioned way. Name and passport, please?”

I lean close as though needing to share something private. Instinctively, he tilts his head down and toward me. My throat tingles with warmth as my siren voice slips from my lips to his ear. My words are filled with commanding magic, against which he is defenseless.

“You don’t need to know my name.”

“I don’t need to know your name,” he murmurs, his blue eyes going vacant the moment I speak.

“You don’t need my passport either. Let me on the ship and make no notes about my presence. Forget that we ever spoke. If you see me later, you’ll believe another crew member took my ticket.”

“I’ll forget that we ever spoke,” he repeats softly. “Another crew member has already taken your ticket.”

He takes my outstretched hand and helps me up and over the side. The moment my shoes hit the deck, a little of my anxiety blows away with the wind. I turn toward the front of the ship. With a glance back, I see that the crew member is already moving onto other tasks, his expression set in a way that says all is right in his world.

All might be right in his, but it isn’t right in mine. What am I going to do? My fiancé has betrayed me in a way I’m not sure I can—or should—forgive. It could be downright dangerous for me to forget what he’s done. I might have expected such a betrayal from other humans in my life, but never from the man I have trusted fully for more than two years. I have been looking forward to wedding plans, approaching the subject of children, bringing our lives together into a partnership. Now all that is up in the air, and I can’t read my own feelings over the hurt. The pain is the loudest, and in order to get past that, I need time and I need the ocean air, if not the ocean itself. I have yet to decide how seriously I’m going to take abandoning this life I’ve built. Will I return? I don’t yet know.

Near the prow I stand at the brass railing, looking out at the city skyline. The wind kicks up my hair, sending long curls into my face. I claw it back and hold it at the nape of my neck, chewing my lip.

Not far away, nestled in the Upper East Side is a cute and cozy fourth-floor apartment stuffed with books, soft, well-worn furniture, and photos of the smiling couple of which I have been half. Is it extreme, what I’m doing? Running away like I’m fourteen again—this time not from my father but from my own life and a man who loves me. Yes, he loves me. That can’t be denied. He betrayed me, but he argued it was for my benefit. He wants to help me, protect me, make my life better. If I were just a twenty-three-year-old woman—as is stated on the government-issued ID I left back in our apartment—and not in my eighties, with a load of secrets heavy enough to sink this vessel, then all might easily be forgiven. But a twenty-three-year-old woman I am not… and all is not so easily forgiven.

Cobalt releases Sept. 30, 2023.

 

 

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My Store is Open

Finally, after much blood, sweat, and tears, the A.L. Knorr Books (virtual) store is open. I look forward to welcoming you! As I explained in the June “An Update on all the Madness” post, it will be a while before all my books are available in all formats direct from me, but paperbacks are available for all and audiobooks for most of them. There are also items available exclusively through my store, like printable coloring pages. The URL is: www.alknorrbooks.store, which is easy to remember, but you can always click Shop in the header bar to get there directly; and books that are available on all retailers will be getting a direct link “buy from author.”

The store is not perfect and will undergo continuous improvements as I become accustomed to working with Shopify as a platform. Over time I’ll be adding more products for readers to enjoy, including coloring books, notebooks, calendars, and of course, my German, Italian and French titles. But please stop by for a visit, have a look around, and don’t hesitate to let me know what you think.

Sneak Peek: A Prince of Autumn

Chapter One 
Laec

Frostbite took a long time to heal—Laec was learning this firsthand—even with access to healing botanicals. He shifted in his seat, pulling his jacket away from his shoulder where skin and muscle still ached. In the two-and-a-half weeks that had passed since the Silverfae invasion, the injury had gone from reddish-white to the deep blue of a bruise, and the skin had a tight and shiny appearance. It ached all the time and was painful to touch. Even the cuts he’d sustained from blades hurt less than the injuries from cold exposure, and they were healing faster. He hoped never to find himself in an altercation with high-powered Silverfae ever again.

Laec sat in an alcove outside the Koi Library, a half-full glass of apricot wine at his elbow as he penned a letter to Queen Elphame. The library itself was quiet but the alcoves lining the hall just outside the entrance were busy; the alcoves had not been damaged in the battle and Laec guessed that was the reason for their resurgence in popularity: a place to escape the ongoing renovations.

Mistik waited, sitting on the thick golden rope keeping the curtain drawn to one side. She cocked her head, watching him through an eye encircled by a patch of bright green feathers.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he muttered, feeling judged. “Writing these letters has gotten complicated. Not that I’d expect you to understand.”

Picking up his quill, Laec bent to his letter. He’d written to Elphame the day after the battle, a rushed and bluntly worded message that was sorely lacking in detail. There’d been so much to do, and Laec was in such shock at the time, that he hardly knew what words to use. He’d promised to write again soon, but that promise was only being fulfilled now. He felt guilty that it had taken so long, but only with the passage of time did Laec now feel competent to compile the information Elphame was waiting for.

Princess Isabey and her lover—who recently reappeared after having been feared dead—have sequestered themselves in her suite. Shade arrived injured and malnourished, but has recovered almost completely.

The majority in the palace seemed to credit it to the reunification with his soul mate, more than the nutritious food and warm bed Solana had provided. He’d discarded his crutch for a cane and the only remaining evidence that he’d suffered a broken leg was a slight limp. The secretive couple had helped put the palace back to rights, but since most of what they’d been capable of helping with was now completed, they’d been out of the public eye. While it was easy to guess what they might be spending their time doing, it was much less easy to guess at what Isabey was thinking about the state of her kingdom.

Solana still waits to see if the princess will hold true to her threat to go south, or— now that Shade has returned to her—if he might fortify her with the courage to challenge her brother. If she does not soon make her intentions known, King Agir and Queen Esha will command an audience with her. They’ve been faithful to provide her with shelter, security, and—most importantly—secrecy. As far as anyone knows, Prince Faraçek still believes Isabey to be dead.

Laec glanced up at Mistik, tapping the end of his quill against his lips as the Rahamlarin prince came to mind. He bent to the page again.

As for Faraçek himself, we await the announcement of the date of his self-coronation. As you know, our spies have discovered the existence of a son. Faraçek plans to hand the entirety of the ancient kingdom of Rahamlar over to his boy one day, as whole as it was before Solana’s existence.

Solana’s losses in the battle with Silverfall were not insubstantial. We buried 138 citizens and soldiers. Lady Çifta…

Laec’s hand stilled, his gaze returning to her name. He put a single stroke through Lady and wrote above it: Queen. He stared at the title combined with her name, feeling too paralyzed to continue.

The woman he loved above all else was now a queen. Like a wound that was continuously reopened, the realization was as painful now as it had been the morning after Sylifke’s execution. Prior to that morning, he’d been too relieved and euphoric that Çifta had survived the ice to think about what her new position really meant: that she belonged to the northern kingdom more completely than she had ever belonged to Kazery.

Kazery could no longer dictate who Çifta married, but what might the hundreds of thousands of Silverfall citizens—eager to receive their benevolent queen in place of a long-endured malevolent one—have to say about who their queen chose for a mate?

The morning after Sylifke’s death, Laec had woken with a start, alone in his room, as the new thoughts rushed in with bared teeth. The exhilarating recollection that Çifta was alive and safe in her quarters was suddenly crushed by the realization that he might yet lose her… again, and so quickly after having regained her. It was too painful to contemplate.

While he and Çifta did their parts in returning Solana to rights they’d had no time to themselves to discuss anything. Now that she was a queen, he no longer had the right to approach her for spontaneous conversation, not only because she was truly a royal but also because she was constantly surrounded by Silverfae guards. It was apparent they were eager to get her away to their own land. Laec had come to resent their presence with an intensity he’d not realized he was capable of.

Worse than all that, Çifta had not made any attempt to reach out to him, which left him feeling confused (an emotion he disliked) and insecure (an emotion he despised with every fiber of his being). What was she thinking? What did she want? Did she even know anymore? Had she been given advice by someone from Silverfall? Rayven Sabran, perhaps, before the former prosecutor took the majority of the Silverfae home to prepare Silverfall for the new queen’s arrival? Did Çifta feel as paralyzed as he did?

Laec put none of this into his letter to Elphame, it was too personal, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t dare include it without Çifta’s permission. Çifta and Elphame were now contemporaries, as close to equals as any sovereign could be with Elphame. The sensation of being socially lower than his love interest was new for Laec, and he had no clue how to handle it, so he had told himself to wait. Çifta was sensitive and intelligent; he knew that she loved him because love poured from her whenever they were close. But she was entangled in a new and complicated situation, and the next step was up to her. He would just have to be patient.

Laec concluded the letter to Elphame by outlining the battle with more specifics, ending with the remarkable events that had taken place in the foyer.

He wrote the final lines with mixed feelings:

The problem with Rahamlar is for Isabey, Agir, and Esha to resolve. The darkness you foresaw is most likely now fulfilled. With your permission, may I journey home?

If Çifta was no longer in Solana, Laec did not wish to be there either, he’d be closer to her if he returned to Stavarjak. He cared for his friends here, but with the darkness presumably now over, surely his commission was complete. He stared at the word “home” for a long time. The shadows had grown short by the time he roused himself to sign the letter.

Laec sealed the scroll, slipped it inside the tiny cylinder and strapped it to Mistik’s twig-thin ankle. Opening the window, he watched the fae-Terran hybrid flutter into the evening sky. The air was fresh and moist with a promise of spring. She gave a single caw as she swooped over the gardens, then disappeared from sight.

Where was home? He didn’t know anymore. He would have said it was by Çifta’s side, had she come out of the ice without any change of station, and they could have dealt with Kazery’s wrath together. But she had come out a queen, with the memories of the fearsome queen before her. Not just Karinya’s memories, but her magic as well. Çifta was not simply a merchant’s daughter anymore but Laec was still just a courtier of the spring court, still Elphame’s eyes and ears, and—he drained his goblet and set it down with a clack—still a drunkard.

A Prince of Autumn will be available August 21, 2023.

 

 

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An Update on All the Madness

June 2023

Oh my goodness, there is SO much happening behind the scenes right now! Deniz and I had guests for 8 weeks so my work hours were drastically cut back, which was good timing since Nicola was working with the A Prince of Autumn manuscript. We had a lovely time with our guests but I knew a storm was brewing. I underestimated the fury of that storm, haha.

I’ll share some fun vacation photos in another post, but I want to make some important announcements here about my author business. I’ve been paddling madly since our guests left, and looming over my head is that very logical voice saying: “You haven’t told your readers any of this yet. Don’t let it go much longer!” So this is my attempt to catch you up on all the things…

A Prince of Autumn

We are on track for an early release, as the manuscript is currently being proofread. What remains to be done for this glorious last-book-in-an-epic-series is: the final edits, the artwork for the hardcover, the formatting with beautiful botanical illustrations, then uploading to ensure readers can order print copies asap. With Daughter, readers who wanted the print versions had to wait an unacceptable amount of time, due to multiple delays. I will do my best not to have a repeat this time around!

Big Changes For My Tiny Business

Meanwhile, my little author business has reached a critical point in its history… the point where Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited exclusivity—which has been a great program for building my readership—is no longer working for me, at least, not as an “all in” strategy.

What does that mean? Well… being the clever multi-billion dollar empire that they are, Amazon really takes to heart Bezos’s mantra of “Your margin is our opportunity.” Basically, Amazon has figured out ways to steadily decrease authors’ profits while increasing their own. This has been achieved in various ways:

Organic reach has disappeared. It used to be that there was a carousel of other books like this one, which was free for my titles to appear in, and a great way for readers to become aware of similar books. It has been replaced by ad (paid) carousels.Product pages used to show other books in the same series, and/or other books I had written, but that free space is gone now too. Instead, book pages are stuffed with ads for books I didn’t write—ads that I can’t afford to compete against (if I bid high enough, I could push those other books off my pages).Amazon is increasing the price of the KU membership, but not passing anything on to authors. In fact, the value of a page read has gone down over time. Page reads are determined by a magical formula that Amazon doesn’t share with authors. Basically, it’s arbitrary what my KU titles will make in any given month.Amazon got rid of bonuses that I used to qualify for.

To sum up, if authors don’t advertise (heavily, see many dollar signs), they won’t be visible.

Amazon takes a percentage for publishing titles and also charge a fee to deliver files to devices. That hasn’t changed. However, they are now charging increasingly expensive rates for advertising on their platform. A few years ago, a click from a reader might cost me $0.10. Now it’s closer to $1.00. When making $1.50 per book (which is what an average length novel makes in KU, versus making about $2.60 for a sale of the same title at $3.99)… well, it just isn’t sustainable.

I am grateful for the way I’ve been able to nurture my career using their tools. But Amazon is run by Amazon; their sand-box, their rules. They have to take care of their company, and I have to take care of mine… which means that in order to survive, I have to change something. That said…

Titles Will Be Leaving KU

I have always known that a time would come when I would need to find more ways to share my work with readers. It appears that time has come. If you’re a Kindle Unlimited reader, don’t worry, I get it. I have a KU membership too, and I appreciate that not everyone can afford to buy the number of books they like to read every month. For now, the majority of my titles will remain in Kindle Unlimited. This will be a slowish transition.

KU readers eagerly awaiting A Prince of Autumn will be able to read it in Kindle Unlimited, it just won’t remain there forever. KU is a strategy, one I appreciate having access to. I’ll use it when it makes sense.

I will always let you know when a title will be leaving Kindle Unlimited, to allow ample time to consume it before the last day. With that said, consider yourself notified of the following:

A Blossom at Midnight will come out of KU on July 2nd.A Memory of Nightshade will come out of KU on July 8th.A Daughter of Winter will come out of KU on July 10th.KU readers will have a minimum of 30 days from launch day to read A Prince of Autumn in Kindle Unlimited.

All titles will remain on Amazon for purchase, but will become available on many other retailers, and also in my direct store. This is not a decision I’ve made lightly. I’ve been exclusive to KU for 7 years. I wouldn’t leave unless I felt I had to. Which leads me to the next announcement.

I’m Opening a Store!

For those readers who want to, you’ll soon be able to buy books (and other fun stuff) direct from me! I’m SO excited about this because we both benefit. I can offer you great value while not losing anything to Amazon’s hungry-hippo system. Readers will be able to support me directly, and in turn I’ll be able to serve more readers better… my way. I also won’t have to wait two months to get paid. Yay! I won’t have to sell nearly as many books (or put nearly as much money into ads) in order to make enough to support my family, and that is great news.  

The other benefit of hosting a direct store is that my titles will stay off the radar of pirates. Just yesterday I had to send about 15 takedown notices to pirate sites to take down my titles which they were selling illegally. Pirates comb the bestseller lists on the retailers and steal what they think they can make a buck with, but they don’t comb small direct stores. Long term, I’m hoping a direct store will be a more sustainable way for me to be able to keep writing.

The store isn’t quite ready for you to see, but it’s getting there, and it’s very pretty—if I do say so myself. I’ll be doing a reveal soon, and I’m as excited for that as I get whenever a new story releases. Stay tuned for opening day!

French Translations Are Coming

Alongside learning about all the platforms readers use outside of Amazon, and building a direct store, I’m also preparing to launch my first titles in French, starting with the Mermaid’s Return titles, and Born of Water. I’ve ordered redesigned covers of the Mermaid’s Return stories for French, and I’ve gone back and polished those stories again, to make them shine. I can’t wait to share them with French readers. Of course, getting new covers designed for French will mean an update for the English covers too. Fresh covers are always super exciting. 

If you’re a French speaker/reader, and you’d like to join my beta reading team, please write to me at abby@alknorrbooks.com.

 

Pretty Little Mermaids

I’m finished writing the manuscript of Cobalt, Pretty Little Mermaids Book 0, the cover of which I shared recently. If you haven’t seen it yet, here it is, in all its yumminess.

This is a novella length prequel to my new siren series (written in the same universe as Elemental Origins, and with the same mermaid mythology I developed for Mira and Targa).

Stay tuned to see how you’ll be able to get Cobalt for FREE!

FEWF!

I feel busier now than ever. I’m excited and nervous about all the changes, and a touch overwhelmed by the learning curve. I have questions that can only be answered in real time. How is all this change going to affect my workload? What will readers think? Will the wider world of readers—beyond the Amazon ecosystem—love my stories too? Enough that I can make this work? Will readers be comfortable buying direct from me? I know that some will and some won’t, and I’m okay with that. Just know that I will do everything I can to keep readers happy while ensuring longevity for my business and my career as a full-time storyteller.

Questions? Concerns? Ideas? Never hesitate to reach out to me. I always love hearing from readers. You are the sparkle in my mermaid tail, the flame in my magi palm, the fairy sitting on my Wise shoulder. I love you much.
See the contact page to get in touch.

Blossom at Midnight on BingeBooks

Watch this March 28, 2023 interview by Alessandra Torre of BingeBooks.

BOMYA is for You!

What happens when fifteen independent fantasy authors who value their readers start discussing ways to collaborate? A book club is born, the Book of the Month (YA edition) Club to be precise, aka BOMYA.

What you need to know:

Signing up gets you a free book every month, link delivered to your inbox.A second email will share news from the participating authors (including new releases and sales).You can optionally sign up to individual authors’ newsletters, but this is not required.There are plans underway for Zoom parties where you can meet some of the authors in person.To see the participating authors or to sign up: https://www.evapohler.com/bomya

Sneak Peek at Daughter of Winter

[Unedited] Jess and Laec scanned the city walls from horseback, the towers, the incredible beauty of the wealthiest kingdom on the continent of Ivryndi.

Yet all her mind could muster was; Where are you?

A visit to the city gaol—a place Jess hoped never to visit again—confirmed that Sasha and Rialta were not being kept there, which was a relief, but it had also become clear that no one was going to give her their exact whereabouts. Either because they didn’t know, as was the case with all of the Calyx and most of the Fahyli, or because they were sticking to the rules. Permission had to be given by one of three people; the justice—who didn’t live at the palace and whom Jess never learned the name of, she didn’t even know if the justice was male or female, everyone just called him or her ‘the justice’—Captain Bradburn, or Ian Peneçek, the Crofter. Presumably, the king and queen’s say-so would work as well. 

Ilishec didn’t seem to notice that Jess’s focus on her work was basically nonexistent. He bustled about the palace in a state of constant fretting and frustration over the way the Calyx had reacted to the quarantining of their familiars. Of all of Solana’s floral fae population, only Ania, Beazle and Proteas’s sugar glider, Ahanu, escaped the week long hell of being restricted to life in a small box. Some of the insects seemed to understand and accept their fate, like Sphex, Jalla, and Amarylis’s famliar, a carpenter bee named Xylo. But Bombini, Trea, Heath’s familiar, Coco, and so many others buzzed about their tiny prison walls angrily, eating hardly at all, while others fell into a despondency that—had the Calyx not been mystically connected to their familiars—would have sent them into a panic, thinking they were dead. Famliars who’d gone dormant had responded to none of the attempts to revive or comfort them; nectar, music, fragrant blooms tucked inside their boxes to be a comfort and a nourishment. 

The good news though, was that four days had passed already and none of the familiars were acting in the way Moony had before he’d died. Ilishec reminded the Calyx of this hopeful beam of light in an otherwise dark time, but still couldn’t get them to attend lectures, learn new dances or practice old ones, eat more than a few nibbles, or stand for Olinya’s couturieres to size them up for new costumes. In short, the Calyx were too upset to work until the quarantine was over, and there were still three days to go.

Jess and Laec rode back to the stables and put their mounts in the capable hands of the grooms to be rubbed down, blanketed, fed, and watered. It was supposed to be a morning ride with a friend, but they parted ways with hardly a word and it wasn’t until Jess was bathing away the smell of horse in her suite that she regretted not asking him how he was. How he really was. Jess understood that he cared deeply for Cifta after seeing the way he’d treated her during their rescue mission in Rahamlar. 

She shook her head, chiding herself as she combed out her hair, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “You’re not the only one suffering, you know.”

She donned a long-sleeved woolen gown of deep burgundy, a typical winter dress for a Calyx. She pinned back half of her hair, revealing her ears, and slid her lion’s head ring onto her index finger. Wrapping a thick scarf around neck, and a soft fur cape around her upper body, she felt ready to go outside. Everyone was complaining that this winter was the coldest in a hundred years, but Jess was too distracted to care much about the weather. As she opened the door to leave her room, Beazle dropped from the ceiling and crawled under the hair at the nape of her neck. Jess smiled when she felt him drop off into a doze again almost immediately.

Aster, Rose and Snap were shorter with Jessamine than usual, as they moped about the East Keep waiting for hell-week to pass. And since Calyx activities had all but ceased, and Ilishec was the grumpiest of all, Jessamine spent most of her time in the West Keep, hoping for some clue about Sasha’s whereabouts, as though she could fish information out of the air.

“But what if they’re being mistreated, or not fed well, or Sasha needs to have a letter delivered?” Jess complained to Regalis as he carved a new handle for an old Kittrell blade that had belonged to his grandfather.

The Fahyli spared her a glance. “They’re fine, Jess. No one is presumed guilty or treated as such before a trial. Their needs are being met. Now, leave it alone. Leave me alone,” he added with a cornerwise smile of affectionate annoyance.

Jessamine sat down on the bench beside him, pretending to be interested in his craftsmanship. The head of an eagle was taking shape under his deft fingers. It was already so like Ferrugin that Jess should have been impressed. She stared at Regalis’s hands as they coaxed a new shape from the wood, but noticed nothing. 

She sprang up again. “But where are they?”

“Jess, you’re in my light.” Regalis pushed her sideways, blasting dust and shavings away from his creation with a quick, well-aimed blow. Condensation misted the air and dissipated on the winter wind. “Why is it so important to you, anyway?”

“I told you.” Jess replied a little too quickly, “We’re friends.”

“I see.” Regalis’s tone had said he neither saw, nor cared, and he was bored of her. 

Beazle shifted sleepily, coming briefly out of his slumber with an exasperation that matched Regalis’s. You’ve interrogated pretty everyone else. Why not him too?

Who? Jess looked around and caught a flash of sunshine on brown hair and tanned cheeks as Digit walked by the open gate before disappearing behind the stone wall. A moment later the tiny Ania hummed by in a straight line.

“Bye Regalis,” murmured Jess, her sights and hope now set on Digit. 

“Mercy, at last.” Regalis didn’t look up.

Jess caught up to Digit as he climbed the rocky trail that curved up and around the base of the castle, leading to pasture land. It included a forested copse where animals gathered between the slender trunks for shade on hot days and shelter on windy ones. Right now there was so much horseflesh crammed into the grove that their exhaled breath hovered over them like a fog.

“Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the palace?” Digit asked as she fell in step beside him.

“The Calyx are on strike,” Jess replied, picking up her skirts to make for easier walking over the rough terrain.

This was not strictly true. Ilishec had—in a moment of irritation—referred to the Calyx’s stonewalling of him as a strike, and the term had stuck. But Jess had many Calyx duties she could do on her own—botanical studies, sweat sessions, learning the new spring dances, at least the ones which required solo steps, partner dancing, she could do with Proteas—but if the rest of the Calyx weren’t working, then Jess didn’t want to either. She told Ilishec that it was solidarity for her fellow flora fae. He’d rolled his eyes but let it go. Really, it was all about Sasha.

Digit looked up at the sky, calculating something, maybe the time. “I’d go on strike too, if the crofter wanted to put Ania in a box.”

“Well, sure,” replied Jess. “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m all ears.”

“Do you know where they might keep someone… who… recently got into trouble with the law?”

Ania landed in the pillow of his hair, looking like a glittering jewel in the world’s softest nest.

“Gee, I wonder who that might be. No, I don’t know where they’re keeping Sasha and his wolf, but I do know the palace pretty well, and they’re not in it. If they were, guard rotation would make it obvious.”

Jess stumbled over a loose stone. “Not in the palace?”

“Careful there.” He put a hand under her elbow.

“Where then?”

“I’d guess they’re in the caperlands.”

The name rang a very small, very distant bell. 

The caperlands referred to an run-down building on a corner of land that was totally overgrown and mostly forgotten. The palace grounds were massive, with not only huge yards, gardens, greenhouses and keeps, but also countless outbuildings, towers, stables, forges, and sheds. Jess never had a reason to visit the caperlands, but recalled seeing it marked on one of the secret passageway maps. It was positioned well away from the palace, even beyond the training yards.

“They use it as a prison?” Jess pulled up her scarf as they turned a corner and a blast of wind struck her in the face.

Digit pulled a pair of gloves out of the pocket of his bulky coat. “Not usually. It’s a five-hundred year old building that hasn’t been maintained, but its still pretty solid. They say it was the building Erasmus first lived in while Solana City was being built. Caperberries took over the land, hence the name.”

“Weird place to keep him,” Jess mumbled.

“Better than the prison” Digit said, tugging a glove on with his teeth as he lifted his collar with his other hand, so Ania could crawl inside. “I heard there was a big debate about where to keep them. Laws say he should be gaoled, but many view him as a hero, and they pressured the justice to put him somewhere nicer. He’s up for an election next year, so I guess he caved in, which is just as well. Sasha and Rialta don’t deserve to be thrown in with murderers and thieves.”

Jess felt a renewed sense of hope. “Thanks, Digit. In that case, the caperlands makes a lot of sense.”

“It’s an educated guess, but I’d stay away if I were you.” At her expression, he put up his palms. “Just a suggestion. It’s your business, but you’d better not let Ilishec see you with that look on your face.” 

Digit strode away, leaving Jess standing there with a pounding heart. What did her face look like when she was thinking of Sasha? However her love changed her features, it was recognizable as love to others, and that was a little frightening given the circumstances.

She made her way down the hill, narrowly avoiding spraining an ankle as she picked toward the lumpy stone structure. The path grew narrow, bookended by thick, prickly bushes. Caperberry plants were dense, with perfectly round, silver-green leaves, even in winter. Leggy tendrils curled out from a central root, catching at her skirt and boots with tiny green crochet-hook thorns.

As she descended into a large hollow place in the landscape, the building came into view. It looked like it might have been a majestic manor once, but time had broken its back, peeled away the plaster and tiles, leaving big patches exposed to the weather. Moss, lichens, and vines choked big grey blocks of stone, crumbling the mortar as nature made every attempt possible to turn the building into dust. A stream trickled somewhere in the undergrowth, and clouds hung over the hollow, filtering the winter sunlight. The caperlands building looked frozen and forlorn, and the closer she got, the less she liked it. Though it was on palace land, it would never be embraced by Solana. Jess had no doubt it had been Erasmus’s home in the early days of this kingdom. As beloved as Erasmus was, no wonder the manor had been rejected. It must have been built by the same architect that had masterminded the Rahamlar fortress.

Two fat wooden doors barred the way in. In front of those doors stood a pair of human soldiers in Solanan livery. Digit was right, Sasha and Rialta had to be inside, otherwise there’d be no one guarding this place. At the realization that she’d found them, Jess’s mouth went dry.

The soldiers were talking in the relaxed way of men who had been boys together, until they looked up and saw her coming down the trail. Then she realized that they were hardly men at all. One was short and soft-cheeked with a round belly pushing at his leathers. The other was tall and gangly, with a scrawny neck and spots on his forehead. Her confidence rose and she put on a friendly smile, picking up her gown to leap gracefully over a puddle. Caperberry tendrils caught the fabric of her dress, breaking threads. Gaby would not be pleased but it couldn’t be helped. She sunned the boys with her most flirtatious grin. Her body tingled as she summoned a honeysuckle-scented flush to her skin. 

“Hello, gentlemen,” she said, breezily.

Beazle stirred sleepily. Why do you sound so weird?

The guards straightened, the smiles that had accompanied their private banter were gone. The shorter one looked at her with curiosity, but the skinny one took on a superior expression that Jess immediately disliked. She hated petty authority, and this lad was full of it. He took this duty very seriously. Jess supposed she should be grateful. There might be unfriendlies who wanted to get in and see Sasha, too.

The thin one spoke with a strong country accent. “No one is allowed here ‘cept for a few, and you’re not one of ‘em. You’d best go back where you come from, ‘fore you get into trouble.”

Beazle sensed her rising anxiety. Jess. What are you doing?

What we’re good at. Gathering intel. Go back to sleep.

She tucked a lock of hair behind one ear, still smiling, though her heart was scampering about like a frightened mouse. 

Do we have an assignment I don’t know about?

No.

She imagined she could feel Sasha’s presence, and it battled down her fears. 

“Thank you for the caution,” she simpered, “That’s so kind of you to warn me, but I won’t get into trouble. I’m Calyx and Sasha is a good friend of mine. I have permission to visit him.”

“This prisoner can’t have no visitors, Calyx or not,” the other youth said, looking apologetic, “Because of the trial, you see.” 

He stared at her with big eyes, taking in her faeness, maybe smelling her perfume.

“And if you did have permission,” sniped the other, “it’ll be in writing, and I don’t see nuffink in your hands.”

She twirled a stray curl of hair through her fingers, her expression delicately perplexed. “I didn’t realize I had to wait for written permission. Of course I can get it. If you’ll really want to make me walk all the way back to the castle.” She gave an exhausted sounding sigh. “Then I’ll have to find Ian, of course. He could be anywhere, and the palace grounds are just so huge! It could take me hours and I have a very busy day ahead. If you’ll let me inside for a quick hello, I’ll only take a minute. I promise. I’ll be out of here before you even know it, you won’t even remember that I was here.”

The spotted one narrowed his eyes and actually put his hand on the pommel of his sword. “We don’t care if it takes you weeks, we can’t let you in without a stamp from Bradburn or the Honorable Crofter.” His emphasis was a none-too-subtle rebuke at her supposed inappropriate use of Ian’s first name. 

The soft soldier looked uncomfortable, but didn’t voice any disagreement.

Jess let out a long, unhappy breath. “Very well. If I must.” She brightened, as though having an idea. “Shall I bring you anything from the kitchen when I return? A cinnamon popkin, or something savory? There’s hot coffee available for another hour, I could bring you some. That would help keep the cold out of your bones.”

The sweet-faced one lit up like a candle, but the other glowered and touched the back of his fist against his colleague’s chest, as though to say; She spied your weakness, but I’ll keep you in line.

“We get three squares a day, miss,” he told her, tone frigid. “We don’t need you to bring us anything.”

“Thank you, anyway,” the short one said, suffering a hard look from his fellow guardsman.

“Suit yourselves.” Trying to hide her irritation and not totally succeeding, Jess tossed her scarf over her shoulder a little too dramatically. She turned away, rolling her eyes once the guards could no longer see her face. The trail loomed steeply before her, littered with caperberry claws, loose stones, and puddles. Pouting, she climbed further and further from the one she loved. She sulked until she could see the pennants topping the west keep. By the time she reached level ground, the hem of her dress was filthy and torn, her boots were soaked, her knuckles scraped. She raised her eyes heavenward, watching the winter clouds shift slowly across the sky. Ferrugin and Eramus whirled briefly overhead before disappearing behind the trees. She closed her eyes as a shaft of sunlight fought its way through to touch her face, as warm as a promise. Her resolve hardened, nosing past this failure. There were other ways to surmount this obstacle.

If they see you again, without a stamp, they might report you, Beazle cautioned, recognizing the hope rising in her heart and not wanting her to be disappointed. Better not to sniff around anymore.

I’m not going to do any more sniffing around, Jess told him as she slipped through a side door. The warmth of the palace embraced them. You are.

Am I?

If I can’t see them with my own eyes, you can at least send me a visual. I need to know they’re ok.

 That’s an abuse of power, observed Beazle, but without any real zeal. 

Jess smiled. Technically, he was right, it would be an abuse of their powers, but sneaking in to see Sasha and Rialta wasn’t going to hurt the kingdom or anyone in it. Beazle was—even now—getting a thrill from imagining himself slipping unnoticed through the cracks of the old manor. He couldn’t help it. Like Jess, he’d taken to his job as spy, even craved it sometimes. 

It’s a stupid rule anyway, Beazle added. They should be allowed visitors.

Jess agreed. She didn’t like stupid rules and felt few qualms about breaking them. 

Daughter of Winter will be available soon.

 

 

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Sneak Peak at Daughter of Winter

[Unedited] Jess and Laec scanned the city walls from horseback, the towers, the incredible beauty of the wealthiest kingdom on the continent of Ivryndi.

Yet all her mind could muster was; Where are you?

A visit to the city gaol—a place Jess hoped never to visit again—confirmed that Sasha and Rialta were not being kept there, which was a relief, but it had also become clear that no one was going to give her their exact whereabouts. Either because they didn’t know, as was the case with all of the Calyx and most of the Fahyli, or because they were sticking to the rules. Permission had to be given by one of three people; the justice—who didn’t live at the palace and whom Jess never learned the name of, she didn’t even know if the justice was male or female, everyone just called him or her ‘the justice’—Captain Bradburn, or Ian Peneçek, the Crofter. Presumably, the king and queen’s say-so would work as well. 

Ilishec didn’t seem to notice that Jess’s focus on her work was basically nonexistent. He bustled about the palace in a state of constant fretting and frustration over the way the Calyx had reacted to the quarantining of their familiars. Of all of Solana’s floral fae population, only Ania, Beazle and Proteas’s sugar glider, Ahanu, escaped the week long hell of being restricted to life in a small box. Some of the insects seemed to understand and accept their fate, like Sphex, Jalla, and Amarylis’s famliar, a carpenter bee named Xylo. But Bombini, Trea, Heath’s familiar, Coco, and so many others buzzed about their tiny prison walls angrily, eating hardly at all, while others fell into a despondency that—had the Calyx not been mystically connected to their familiars—would have sent them into a panic, thinking they were dead. Famliars who’d gone dormant had responded to none of the attempts to revive or comfort them; nectar, music, fragrant blooms tucked inside their boxes to be a comfort and a nourishment. 

The good news though, was that four days had passed already and none of the familiars were acting in the way Moony had before he’d died. Ilishec reminded the Calyx of this hopeful beam of light in an otherwise dark time, but still couldn’t get them to attend lectures, learn new dances or practice old ones, eat more than a few nibbles, or stand for Olinya’s couturieres to size them up for new costumes. In short, the Calyx were too upset to work until the quarantine was over, and there were still three days to go.

Jess and Laec rode back to the stables and put their mounts in the capable hands of the grooms to be rubbed down, blanketed, fed, and watered. It was supposed to be a morning ride with a friend, but they parted ways with hardly a word and it wasn’t until Jess was bathing away the smell of horse in her suite that she regretted not asking him how he was. How he really was. Jess understood that he cared deeply for Cifta after seeing the way he’d treated her during their rescue mission in Rahamlar. 

She shook her head, chiding herself as she combed out her hair, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “You’re not the only one suffering, you know.”

She donned a long-sleeved woolen gown of deep burgundy, a typical winter dress for a Calyx. She pinned back half of her hair, revealing her ears, and slid her lion’s head ring onto her index finger. Wrapping a thick scarf around neck, and a soft fur cape around her upper body, she felt ready to go outside. Everyone was complaining that this winter was the coldest in a hundred years, but Jess was too distracted to care much about the weather. As she opened the door to leave her room, Beazle dropped from the ceiling and crawled under the hair at the nape of her neck. Jess smiled when she felt him drop off into a doze again almost immediately.

Aster, Rose and Snap were shorter with Jessamine than usual, as they moped about the East Keep waiting for hell-week to pass. And since Calyx activities had all but ceased, and Ilishec was the grumpiest of all, Jessamine spent most of her time in the West Keep, hoping for some clue about Sasha’s whereabouts, as though she could fish information out of the air.

“But what if they’re being mistreated, or not fed well, or Sasha needs to have a letter delivered?” Jess complained to Regalis as he carved a new handle for an old Kittrell blade that had belonged to his grandfather.

The Fahyli spared her a glance. “They’re fine, Jess. No one is presumed guilty or treated as such before a trial. Their needs are being met. Now, leave it alone. Leave me alone,” he added with a cornerwise smile of affectionate annoyance.

Jessamine sat down on the bench beside him, pretending to be interested in his craftsmanship. The head of an eagle was taking shape under his deft fingers. It was already so like Ferrugin that Jess should have been impressed. She stared at Regalis’s hands as they coaxed a new shape from the wood, but noticed nothing. 

She sprang up again. “But where are they?”

“Jess, you’re in my light.” Regalis pushed her sideways, blasting dust and shavings away from his creation with a quick, well-aimed blow. Condensation misted the air and dissipated on the winter wind. “Why is it so important to you, anyway?”

“I told you.” Jess replied a little too quickly, “We’re friends.”

“I see.” Regalis’s tone had said he neither saw, nor cared, and he was bored of her. 

Beazle shifted sleepily, coming briefly out of his slumber with an exasperation that matched Regalis’s. You’ve interrogated pretty everyone else. Why not him too?

Who? Jess looked around and caught a flash of sunshine on brown hair and tanned cheeks as Digit walked by the open gate before disappearing behind the stone wall. A moment later the tiny Ania hummed by in a straight line.

“Bye Regalis,” murmured Jess, her sights and hope now set on Digit. 

“Mercy, at last.” Regalis didn’t look up.

Jess caught up to Digit as he climbed the rocky trail that curved up and around the base of the castle, leading to pasture land. It included a forested copse where animals gathered between the slender trunks for shade on hot days and shelter on windy ones. Right now there was so much horseflesh crammed into the grove that their exhaled breath hovered over them like a fog.

“Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the palace?” Digit asked as she fell in step beside him.

“The Calyx are on strike,” Jess replied, picking up her skirts to make for easier walking over the rough terrain.

This was not strictly true. Ilishec had—in a moment of irritation—referred to the Calyx’s stonewalling of him as a strike, and the term had stuck. But Jess had many Calyx duties she could do on her own—botanical studies, sweat sessions, learning the new spring dances, at least the ones which required solo steps, partner dancing, she could do with Proteas—but if the rest of the Calyx weren’t working, then Jess didn’t want to either. She told Ilishec that it was solidarity for her fellow flora fae. He’d rolled his eyes but let it go. Really, it was all about Sasha.

Digit looked up at the sky, calculating something, maybe the time. “I’d go on strike too, if the crofter wanted to put Ania in a box.”

“Well, sure,” replied Jess. “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m all ears.”

“Do you know where they might keep someone… who… recently got into trouble with the law?”

Ania landed in the pillow of his hair, looking like a glittering jewel in the world’s softest nest.

“Gee, I wonder who that might be. No, I don’t know where they’re keeping Sasha and his wolf, but I do know the palace pretty well, and they’re not in it. If they were, guard rotation would make it obvious.”

Jess stumbled over a loose stone. “Not in the palace?”

“Careful there.” He put a hand under her elbow.

“Where then?”

“I’d guess they’re in the caperlands.”

The name rang a very small, very distant bell. 

The caperlands referred to an run-down building on a corner of land that was totally overgrown and mostly forgotten. The palace grounds were massive, with not only huge yards, gardens, greenhouses and keeps, but also countless outbuildings, towers, stables, forges, and sheds. Jess never had a reason to visit the caperlands, but recalled seeing it marked on one of the secret passageway maps. It was positioned well away from the palace, even beyond the training yards.

“They use it as a prison?” Jess pulled up her scarf as they turned a corner and a blast of wind struck her in the face.

Digit pulled a pair of gloves out of the pocket of his bulky coat. “Not usually. It’s a five-hundred year old building that hasn’t been maintained, but its still pretty solid. They say it was the building Erasmus first lived in while Solana City was being built. Caperberries took over the land, hence the name.”

“Weird place to keep him,” Jess mumbled.

“Better than the prison” Digit said, tugging a glove on with his teeth as he lifted his collar with his other hand, so Ania could crawl inside. “I heard there was a big debate about where to keep them. Laws say he should be gaoled, but many view him as a hero, and they pressured the justice to put him somewhere nicer. He’s up for an election next year, so I guess he caved in, which is just as well. Sasha and Rialta don’t deserve to be thrown in with murderers and thieves.”

Jess felt a renewed sense of hope. “Thanks, Digit. In that case, the caperlands makes a lot of sense.”

“It’s an educated guess, but I’d stay away if I were you.” At her expression, he put up his palms. “Just a suggestion. It’s your business, but you’d better not let Ilishec see you with that look on your face.” 

Digit strode away, leaving Jess standing there with a pounding heart. What did her face look like when she was thinking of Sasha? However her love changed her features, it was recognizable as love to others, and that was a little frightening given the circumstances.

She made her way down the hill, narrowly avoiding spraining an ankle as she picked toward the lumpy stone structure. The path grew narrow, bookended by thick, prickly bushes. Caperberry plants were dense, with perfectly round, silver-green leaves, even in winter. Leggy tendrils curled out from a central root, catching at her skirt and boots with tiny green crochet-hook thorns.

As she descended into a large hollow place in the landscape, the building came into view. It looked like it might have been a majestic manor once, but time had broken its back, peeled away the plaster and tiles, leaving big patches exposed to the weather. Moss, lichens, and vines choked big grey blocks of stone, crumbling the mortar as nature made every attempt possible to turn the building into dust. A stream trickled somewhere in the undergrowth, and clouds hung over the hollow, filtering the winter sunlight. The caperlands building looked frozen and forlorn, and the closer she got, the less she liked it. Though it was on palace land, it would never be embraced by Solana. Jess had no doubt it had been Erasmus’s home in the early days of this kingdom. As beloved as Erasmus was, no wonder the manor had been rejected. It must have been built by the same architect that had masterminded the Rahamlar fortress.

Two fat wooden doors barred the way in. In front of those doors stood a pair of human soldiers in Solanan livery. Digit was right, Sasha and Rialta had to be inside, otherwise there’d be no one guarding this place. At the realization that she’d found them, Jess’s mouth went dry.

The soldiers were talking in the relaxed way of men who had been boys together, until they looked up and saw her coming down the trail. Then she realized that they were hardly men at all. One was short and soft-cheeked with a round belly pushing at his leathers. The other was tall and gangly, with a scrawny neck and spots on his forehead. Her confidence rose and she put on a friendly smile, picking up her gown to leap gracefully over a puddle. Caperberry tendrils caught the fabric of her dress, breaking threads. Gaby would not be pleased but it couldn’t be helped. She sunned the boys with her most flirtatious grin. Her body tingled as she summoned a honeysuckle-scented flush to her skin. 

“Hello, gentlemen,” she said, breezily.

Beazle stirred sleepily. Why do you sound so weird?

The guards straightened, the smiles that had accompanied their private banter were gone. The shorter one looked at her with curiosity, but the skinny one took on a superior expression that Jess immediately disliked. She hated petty authority, and this lad was full of it. He took this duty very seriously. Jess supposed she should be grateful. There might be unfriendlies who wanted to get in and see Sasha, too.

The thin one spoke with a strong country accent. “No one is allowed here ‘cept for a few, and you’re not one of ‘em. You’d best go back where you come from, ‘fore you get into trouble.”

Beazle sensed her rising anxiety. Jess. What are you doing?

What we’re good at. Gathering intel. Go back to sleep.

She tucked a lock of hair behind one ear, still smiling, though her heart was scampering about like a frightened mouse. 

Do we have an assignment I don’t know about?

No.

She imagined she could feel Sasha’s presence, and it battled down her fears. 

“Thank you for the caution,” she simpered, “That’s so kind of you to warn me, but I won’t get into trouble. I’m Calyx and Sasha is a good friend of mine. I have permission to visit him.”

“This prisoner can’t have no visitors, Calyx or not,” the other youth said, looking apologetic, “Because of the trial, you see.” 

He stared at her with big eyes, taking in her faeness, maybe smelling her perfume.

“And if you did have permission,” sniped the other, “it’ll be in writing, and I don’t see nuffink in your hands.”

She twirled a stray curl of hair through her fingers, her expression delicately perplexed. “I didn’t realize I had to wait for written permission. Of course I can get it. If you’ll really want to make me walk all the way back to the castle.” She gave an exhausted sounding sigh. “Then I’ll have to find Ian, of course. He could be anywhere, and the palace grounds are just so huge! It could take me hours and I have a very busy day ahead. If you’ll let me inside for a quick hello, I’ll only take a minute. I promise. I’ll be out of here before you even know it, you won’t even remember that I was here.”

The spotted one narrowed his eyes and actually put his hand on the pommel of his sword. “We don’t care if it takes you weeks, we can’t let you in without a stamp from Bradburn or the Honorable Crofter.” His emphasis was a none-too-subtle rebuke at her supposed inappropriate use of Ian’s first name. 

The soft soldier looked uncomfortable, but didn’t voice any disagreement.

Jess let out a long, unhappy breath. “Very well. If I must.” She brightened, as though having an idea. “Shall I bring you anything from the kitchen when I return? A cinnamon popkin, or something savory? There’s hot coffee available for another hour, I could bring you some. That would help keep the cold out of your bones.”

The sweet-faced one lit up like a candle, but the other glowered and touched the back of his fist against his colleague’s chest, as though to say; She spied your weakness, but I’ll keep you in line.

“We get three squares a day, miss,” he told her, tone frigid. “We don’t need you to bring us anything.”

“Thank you, anyway,” the short one said, suffering a hard look from his fellow guardsman.

“Suit yourselves.” Trying to hide her irritation and not totally succeeding, Jess tossed her scarf over her shoulder a little too dramatically. She turned away, rolling her eyes once the guards could no longer see her face. The trail loomed steeply before her, littered with caperberry claws, loose stones, and puddles. Pouting, she climbed further and further from the one she loved. She sulked until she could see the pennants topping the west keep. By the time she reached level ground, the hem of her dress was filthy and torn, her boots were soaked, her knuckles scraped. She raised her eyes heavenward, watching the winter clouds shift slowly across the sky. Ferrugin and Eramus whirled briefly overhead before disappearing behind the trees. She closed her eyes as a shaft of sunlight fought its way through to touch her face, as warm as a promise. Her resolve hardened, nosing past this failure. There were other ways to surmount this obstacle.

If they see you again, without a stamp, they might report you, Beazle cautioned, recognizing the hope rising in her heart and not wanting her to be disappointed. Better not to sniff around anymore.

I’m not going to do any more sniffing around, Jess told him as she slipped through a side door. The warmth of the palace embraced them. You are.

Am I?

If I can’t see them with my own eyes, you can at least send me a visual. I need to know they’re ok.

 That’s an abuse of power, observed Beazle, but without any real zeal. 

Jess smiled. Technically, he was right, it would be an abuse of their powers, but sneaking in to see Sasha and Rialta wasn’t going to hurt the kingdom or anyone in it. Beazle was—even now—getting a thrill from imagining himself slipping unnoticed through the cracks of the old manor. He couldn’t help it. Like Jess, he’d taken to his job as spy, even craved it sometimes. 

It’s a stupid rule anyway, Beazle added. They should be allowed visitors.

Jess agreed. She didn’t like stupid rules and felt few qualms about breaking them. 

Daughter of Winter will be available soon.

 

 

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New Covers for Elemental Origins

In preparation for a future project, I’ve been working with a design team to create new covers for the books that kicked off my career and the Elemental Origins universe. Aren’t they pretty?

Don’t get me wrong, I still love the old covers featuring the main characters, but right now in the book world, typography-focused designs are trendy, and I like to have both styles in my arsenal so that I can update them as needed. The originals were made in 2016 and 2017, so it was time for a refresh.

At the moment these typographic based designs are only available as e-books. Unfortunately Amazon does not send automatic updates to customers who already purchased them unless a significant error in a story has been corrected, and that’s not the case here. I checked. I suppose if enough readers request that they update ebooks automatically, maybe they would eventually change this.

If you haven’t started this contemporary fantasy series featuring some pretty intriguing and lovable characters, now is the perfect time to start. And, for September ONLY, the box set is available for $4.99!

Click on the covers to go to your Amazon store for the individual books.

Translation Library is Live

As you may be aware, the majority of my books have been translated into German. Most of the Elemental Origins series is also available in Italian. So it seemed like a good idea to create Library pages for them. In the ribbon at the top of the page you will now see “Translations”—it will drop down a menu with links to each language’s page. Deutsch is currently up-to-date, Italiano will be live shortly; both will be updated as new translations are published. New pages will be added if the list of languages expands.

Translations take time, but not as long as writing; thank you for your patience as the books move through the process.