J.R. Pearse Nelson's Blog, page 11

Winner of My Summer Lovin' Blog Hop Prize!

Thanks for all of the great comments on the Summer Lovin' Blog Hop over the weekend. Hops are so much fun, and such a great way to find new authors, new books and new friends.

The winner of the prize here on my blog is Wanda Craighead! I've just sent Wanda a $20 Amazon gift card! Happy, happy summer! :)

Summer Lovin' Blog Hop!

Welcome to the Summer Lovin' Blog Hop hosted by Jane Wakely at Romance Blog Hops (hopswithheart.blogspot.com)!

And isn't she right? Romance is a great way to beat the heat!

Now that the spring fever has passed and summer vacations are ahead, it's time to fill out that vacation reading list!

I would, of course, love for one of my books to make your reading list. You can check out the first three chapters of each of my romance books for free by visiting my paranormal romance books page. I'm currently writing the fifth and final book in my Children of the Sidhe romance series that's rooted in Irish mythology.

If you love the fae, Otherworld adventures, and a fair amount of steam in your romance, check out Tribute, the first book in the series.

There are three grand prizes for this blog hop. To enter for them, please visit the Rafflecopter!

Each author is doing an individual giveaway, too. I'm excited to give one lucky reader a $20 Amazon gift card, for stocking up your Kindle or buying that print book you've had your eye on! To enter, please comment on this post and remember to include your email address so I can contact you if you're my winner. I'll choose a winner at random the day after the hop ends. Yay! Enter now! I'd love to give you stuff! :)

I wish you the best this summer -- glorious sunny skies, out-of-town weekends, complete lack of sunburns, the pick of your favorite fruit crop, etc! All the best. And happy reading!

Remember, this is a blog hop! Here are links to the authors participating! Enjoy!

Mid-Week Update: Back to Shield

I swear, I'm back to writing the book I'm supposed to be focused on! :) A few weeks ago, I entered a stalling phase on Shield, the final Children of the Sidhe novella. It was all going so well, and then the fear got ahold of me. The FINAL book in a series. With all of that PLOT STUFF and the need for it to COME TOGETHER. The need to GET IT RIGHT. I know what happens, but I still need to write it. Around this time in any project (about two-thirds written) I start thinking about the fact that people will be reading this soon. And then I get scared and start flapping around and have trouble focusing.

I'm pretty sure this effect will diminish with more books. I sure hope so. After all, there's no such thing as getting it right. Perfection is an ugly hole to get mired in with writing. It can stop writers dead in their tracks. Luckily I already learned that lesson. :)

It took me a couple of weeks to figure out I was stalling, and where I was going wrong. In the meantime, I wrote one short story and worked on a couple of others at various stages. So while I'm a few weeks late on my "major project" of the moment, it wasn't wasted time. I continued to write. In the long run, writing something every day will add up, instead of waiting for the muse and ending up with big gaps of wasted time. I definitely have enough stories to work on!

Now I'm back to writing Shield. I have about 8-10k left to write. I'll finish it by the 25th, next Wednesday. Exciting! Here I go........

Flight (Children of the Sidhe, #3)

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Nathan Jeffries doesn’t entirely understand his affinity for hawks, until he finds he can shift into one. Fae blood is to blame for his good looks and luck with the ladies – but now that luck has turned. Nathan is on an Otherworld assassin’s hit list, and the only person stepping forward to help him just may be playing for the other side in the Sidhe Blood Wars.
Tessa Anndrais isn’t sure where she stands. When Abarta – the assassin – threatens to reveal a family secret, she’s determined to protect her own. She’s never approved of thinning Sidhe blood by mixing with humans. Yet she finds herself watching Nathan, the half-human son of the Lord of the Skies, with enough approval to keep her warm all through the night.

Excerpt:


Chapter 1
“Who told you this?” Tessa Anndrais shoved back the hood of her satiny lavender cloak. It pooled opulently around her shoulders, highlighting her halo of white-blond hair. Her sapphire eyes sparkled. “I could make you my slave for such slander.” Using that sort of magic drained her for days, not to mention the idea of controlling another’s mind gave her the shivers after her recent ordeal, but she didn’t have to tell Abarta that. He was known as the Trickster for a reason. He was also wickedly beautiful, though she’d never admit her guilty attraction to the bad boy causing such trouble among the Sidhe – especially now that he’d introduced blackmail into their relationship. The ridiculous Sidhe libido could be a nuisance at times, and this was one of them. Abarta smiled, his full lips parting to show his teeth. “I didn’t come here to share with you, Tessa. I was told your magic and knowledge are worth your troublesome penchant for independence. You will serve me now.” Shadows slithered swiftly from between the trees. Inky darkness seeped into the clearing where Abarta had insisted she meet him, filling the air until the shadows stamped out the view of what lay beyond. Darkness closed in, so close she could smell its dank, putrid stench.“Creepy effect, but I’m not so easily fooled by illusion.” Tessa held out a hand and closed her fist, tight. The shadows retreated in a heartbeat, and a nearby bird sang a bright note of thanks, which was answered by another shrill call. It was her turn to smile. “Tell me why I shouldn’t take you to the Sidhe Authority right now.”“Easy. You don’t want to betray me. I’ve made arrangements in case I am harmed, go missing, or otherwise say the word. Do you take me for a fool? Besides, I’ve had third-party confirmation. Without my protection, your brother’s secret will get out.” Tessa stood her ground, but her mind reeled. They’d been so careful, but apparently someone had found her family’s secret despite all their efforts to hide it. She weighed her options. She could go along with his blackmail for the time being, or at least play along to keep her family safe. She didn’t exactly disagree with his cause. She had no love for the humans. He needed a spy, and she had to admit she was well placed to get the information he was after. But Tessa hated putting herself in another manipulative man’s power. Until recently, she’d had a good deal of faith in the Sidhe – faith that her people were wise, and while not always kind, they had a nobility that other races could only hope to emulate. Tessa’s recent lover, Bertran, had challenged those notions completely. When the opportunity to perpetuate the Blood Wars arose, he’d used her, to the extent of taking control over her body and using her as a puppet in his schemes. She’d trusted him, or at least enjoyed him, and her faith had been sorely tested. She didn’t want another man to have power over her. Not now. Abarta seemed to read her thoughts about her ex-lover. “Tell Mikhail you need to know what’s going on after what happened with Bertran. He’ll sympathize. Tell him you want to help. Find out everything the Sidhe Authority knows about the half-humans, and bring that information to me.” “If I help you, and you succeed, then you’ll tell me everything you know of your so-called third party.” Tessa would never be stupid enough to play along without asking for something that made it worth her while. Abarta the Trickster – with him any bargain must be worded with exceeding care. Give and take were each a part of the game. “Making deals, making deals. You’re not exactly in the position, Tessa. Mikhail’s secrets–” “I’ll help you,” Tessa snarled, her patience officially at an end. “But if you leak a word of that, you’ll wish you’d never heard it. You’ll wish eternally for an end to the pain I will subject you to.” Abarta bowed his head, but she could still see his smile. “I hear you, and your self-righteousness is music to my ears.” Tessa watched him resolutely. “What about the third party?” she pressed. “I apologize. I cannot speak of them. Is there another prize you wish to ask?” Tessa noted how he twined his fingers together as he asked the question. Abarta the fidgeter? What was it he didn’t want her to know? “If I help you, and you succeed, then you’ll leave my family alone for all time.” “Done,” Abarta smiled as he gazed straight into her eyes, and Tessa stomach sank. That was too easy, and she already dreaded the bargain she’d been forced to make. These half-humans were important somehow – obviously more important in the scheme of things than her own blood, if Abarta was so willing to trade for the chance to slaughter them. Mikhail’s secret taunted at the edge of her thoughts, but she refused to think on that. He’d made his mistakes, but he was her brother, and she’d always looked out for him. And I’m not about to stop now, Tessa thought, setting her jaw. “Return here when I call.” He gestured around the glade amid the Middleworld forest, where he’d directed her for this meeting. “You may go now,” Abarta told her. Tessa scowled at him. Who was he to order her around? “I will return as my duties allow after I receive your call.” “You’re a librarian. Is your schedule that full?” “My rank is Curator of the Texts, and I’ll not justify my availability to you. As my duties allow.” “Why are you still arguing with me? Get out of here.” Tessa had wondered the same thing, but she wasn’t about to lose an argument with Abarta. He would fear her, or Mikhail’s secret was lost.

Chapter 2Nathan Jeffries was not a morning person. As he stirred his first cup of coffee in a window-side booth at the Red Hen Diner, his dark sunglasses were the only thing saving him from the harsh light of day. He took a sip of his heavily creamed and sugared brew, and sighed in relief. The. Best. Coffee. Ever.Taking a break from work to write his thesis back home in Laurens, South Carolina, at his mother’s old house, had seemed like a good idea at the time. He hadn’t realized how much his schedule kept him on track when he was working. Without that anchor, he got lost in the minutia, and hours – hell, days – seemed to fly by in a rush as he avoided work on the very project that had drawn him back here. His thesis on the differences in breeding habits between subspecies of hawks in North America had seemed like a good fit for his rural South Carolina roots. Growing up he’d seen many a hawk soaring over open land, and diving for their prey. They’d always struck him as noble. He loved the way they rode the air currents, with minimal movement. They just soared. For some reason he had trouble finding his bearings since he returned. Maybe it was because the work that drew him to his hometown this time was so opposite of the reason he’d lived here last. His mother’s battle with colon cancer had pulled him back to town for almost a year before she died. He’d itched for campus the entire time, feeling constrained by the small town and the slow pace of life while caring for his ailing mother. Right after her death he put everything but the furniture in storage and signed over management of the property to a local company. He moved out, and re-enrolled in graduate school. He thought he would mourn better on his own terms, but he still wouldn’t say he was over her death. Since returning, he’d been going through his mother’s things and setting them straight after his two-year break from the reality of her death. She was never coming back, and now he had to decide what to do with all of her things, not to mention the house itself. The housekeeping didn’t help either. Apartments definitely didn’t take this much work. And despite the fact he’d had a property management company checking up on the place and renting it out when they could, the long-term vacancy had left a lot of repairs waiting for him. It was peaceful to pick up his tools and set to work on something tangible, something that showed him results at the end of a hard day and left his muscles aching from effort instead of tedious deskwork. Nathan hated deskwork. He was a wildlife biologist because he loved the wild. He was drawn to the outdoors, to doing, to feeling with his own two hands and knowing the world with his own senses. So on the thesis end of things, he’d already wasted nearly a month of his six-month break. Nathan took another swallow of his coffee, and thought of his desk at home, covered with books all run through with sticky notes and highlighters. Then he looked down at the worn satchel he carried with him. He was drafting his thesis in longhand, because he hated being stuck at the computer. This way he could carry his work with him and jot down the next line or a new train of thought as they occurred to him. This morning he just didn’t feel up to it. He itched for activity, and the woodland trail he’d often hiked as a kid sprang to mind. Maybe observation of the subject of his thesis would turn his mood around. Nathan bought a sandwich before he left the coffee shop, and walked back home. He grabbed just a few more things. His camera and extra batteries, a water bottle, and a Gerber knife multi-tool. He drove the ten minutes to Laurens County Park and walked a quarter-mile over the grassy fields before he chose a spot close to a copse of oaks and beeches. He sank to the ground and pulled his notebook out, hoping inspiration would strike. The early December day was partly cloudy and almost sixty degrees, much warmer than he’d grown used to for this time of year. He’d left the house in a dark gray Henley, worn jeans and his favorite hiking boots. No jacket necessary. The nearly naked trees made it easy to spot his hawks. He could see three from where he sat, at opposite ends of the field, scouring the grass for their next meals. As he watched, the hawk at the north took off from his perch at the top of a beech tree and rose until he was a speck, before diving back into a soar above the field. He dropped again, fast, this time to snatch some small creature from the grass with his talons. The bird retreated to the woodland to enjoy his snack.Another of the birds had disappeared while he watched the successful hunter. The third watched him from the east. No one else was around, and the day had taken on an uncharacteristic stillness. Suddenly, the hawk leaped from its branch and descended, but where a hawk should have landed, a man appeared instead. Nathan jumped back, wondering if short sleep and a house haunted by memories of his mother had driven him to hallucinations. Maybe the man had been there all along, and he was just now noticing him. There was something about his eyes, though. Something wild, and all too akin to the hawk who had just been watching him from his oak-top perch. “Nathan,” the man spoke. “I need to speak with you.” “Did that really just happen?” The wild-eyed man took him in, silent. He chose not to respond to the question, and instead said, “You have a special affinity for birds, do you not?” Nathan nodded, bewildered. “It is your nature to take to the skies, to the branch. You must join me.” “What are you talking about? Who are you?” “I am Nemglan, Lord of the Skies. Your father.” Nathan took another step back. Nemglan was tall and lean, much like Nathan, with dark blond hair and deep brown eyes – it was like looking in a mirror. “What do you mean, my father? My father died when I was a baby.” “That’s what your mother told you. The truth is – well, honestly, the truth is complicated and we don’t have time to get into it right now. Follow me.” “I’m not going to just follow you.” Was he crazy? “Nathan,” the man burst out in frustration, “Do not argue! You must run! You must join me. Now!” “I don’t know what you mean. What do you mean join you?” “You know what you saw. Do I have to speak it?” Nemglan looked over his shoulder, his features stretching in fear. Nathan felt something break in the air; it felt charged like the silent minutes before a big storm, despite the clear weather. “RUN!” Nemglan seemed to hover a few inches above the ground, and where he’d been there was suddenly a hawk, the transition too rapid for Nathan to catch, despite the fact he was looking straight at the man (or hawk) who claimed to be his father. And suddenly the hawk Nemglan swooped toward him, nipping his upper arm savagely. Nathan felt something change at the bite, at his resulting fear. He snapped, and suddenly he knew. Darkness had filled the woods beneath the canopy, as if the branches restrained it from taking over the afternoon. It stretched toward them, and an inky blackness began to seep into the field at its eastern edge. Nathan cried out. He convulsed and felt his body – change. Then he was flying, everything happening too fast, the hawk chasing at his tail, forcing him on insistently. They dove into the cover of the woodland at the other end of the field, where the darkness had not yet filled the space between trunks. Nathan’s stomach dropped as they soared between the interwoven limbs of two oaks. He hit the ground and rolled, wing over wing, colliding with the trunk of a tree and coming to rest. Nemglan appeared in front of him. Nathan couldn’t speak. He could only thrash his wings, confused that he had wings to begin with. He still knew himself as a man, yet this bird form didn’t feel wrong. He opened his beak slightly in threat. He didn’t trust this man who claimed to be his father, even though the last few minutes told him Nemglan’s claim was probably accurate. “Don’t worry. You’re through the portal. We lost him. The threat is over, for now.” Nemglan spoke softly, obviously attempting to calm him. His shoulder was dripping blood in a lazy stream; it smelled shockingly appetizing to Nathan, his senses changed and new.Nathan wasn’t sure what to think. He flapped some more and let out a “caw” that didn’t feel proper at all. When would he change back? Would he change back? He strutted, fretfully, keeping an eye on Nemglan, who stood several paces away, clutching Nathan’s bag.“I know what you need.” Nemglan’s eyes glittered in the twilit forest. “You need to feel safe. Well, we’re a long way from home, but I do know one place we could go.”

Chapter 3“Is that all you’re going to eat, Mikhail?” Tessa asked as her brother shoved aside his plate. He’d barely touched it. “I ate not long ago. You worry too much about me. How about you? Are you okay after what happened with Bertran?” Tessa felt her heart freeze over, her typical response when someone got too personal and she wasn’t prepared. Ice. Turn to ice. “Bertran is no longer any concern, is he? The witch took care of that.” “It wasn’t Alise, exactly.” “I know the facts, Mikhail. I know the goddess Morrigan inhabited the witch’s body, much as she did in times of old, and I understand why Bertran died.” Tessa shrugged, trying for calm, or at least the outward appearance of calm. Bertran’s spell had taken her will – he’d commanded and controlled her actions for several days. She could only be thankful he hadn’t had the opportunity to use her skills, as he’d most likely planned. She was powerful, and controlled a library full of tomes on the magical arts. At his command, she could have been an efficient killing machine. “I can’t believe what he did to me, or that I was fool enough to let him do it.”“You can’t blame yourself. Except maybe for being involved with a creep like him to begin with. Really, Tessa. You can do so much better.” “We’ve seen where that sort of thought gets me, Mikhail.” Tessa glared. “I don’t want to talk about this.” “Ian is married. You’d better get over it. Get over him.” “I’m there, little brother. Don’t lecture me. I invited you for another reason entirely. How is the investigation going? Have they found the half-humans?” Mikhail didn’t even ask about her sudden curiosity, and Tessa felt a twinge of guilt. Her brother was too trusting with her. His superiors at the Sidhe Authority would not be pleased. “None of them have arrived yet, but each family has taken responsibility for reaching out to their own. That’s a step in the right direction. Abarta hasn’t been seen.” “Tell Ian I’ll help any way I can. Let me know if I’m needed.” Tessa told him, sincere in her offer if not in her intentions. Let him think she offered to make nice with her childhood sweetheart. She hated to betray him, but hopefully he’d never know she’d been the one to pass Abarta information. She would save him the pain of having his secret revealed to their entire community. To allow it to come out would be a worse offense.  “I’ll tell him. Now I have to get back to work, Tessa. You’ll call me if you need me, right?” She would never call him in need. He knew that. She was older, and had always been the rock. That was her role. Besides, she’d never been much for crying or sniveling. Good old-fashioned work to take her mind off her problems was much more her style. Tessa got to it when her brother had left, cataloguing recent arrivals for the library. She hadn’t gotten far when a chime sounded throughout her home, seconds before a knock on her door. The ward let her know when someone approached, and had proven useful time and again, most recently when scheming Abarta had called on her. Too bad it hadn’t given her enough time to avoid their little chat. He’d invited her for a walk in the chill of a new-fallen night, and she’d accepted, ignoring her misgivings. That’s how well her last visit had turned out.Sighing, she rose from her work and answered the door. “Nemglan?” Her old friend stood on the doorstep. She hadn’t seen him in years, but they’d studied magic together and knew each other well. “Hello, Tessa. I trust you’re well?” Tessa smiled, and waved him in, only to realize he was dripping blood from a cut high on his shoulder. With an apologetic look, she did what came naturally. She burst apart, reforming in the shape of triple doves. She sang a bright series of notes and chirped, amused, when he dropped to the ground, in a deep sleep. She flew to her old friend and hovered, all three of her doves, above his wound. She cried healing tears into his wound and watched it close almost immediately – an ancient power passed down to her along with the triple dove shape.Tessa burst apart again and gathered her Sidhe form, fluidly casting the spell to clothe herself as she changed forms, a practice shifters quickly became adept at. She examined the wound she’d just healed. It wasn’t that bad, and hadn’t taken long to close. In fact, she might have overreacted a little. Maybe she shouldn’t have put him to sleep.She finally noticed the bird that hopped and strutted just outside her door. It jumped her threshold and squawked, an uncomfortable sound. The noise brought Nemglan around, and he rose unsteadily to his feet, watching the hawk.“Is it hurt?” Tessa reached for the hawk, looking for an injury, unmindful of the beak that could take a chunk from her finger. But despite Nemglan’s sharp intake of breath, the hawk didn’t bite Tessa. It hopped right onto her hand. She winced, and Nemglan went into action, grabbing a throw from a nearby reading chair and wrapping her other arm in it. The bird obliged, hopping to her protected limb, and puffing up the feathers on its neck. It closed its eyes serenely. “Yes, you do feel safe here, don’t you?” Nemglan asked the creature. The hawk gave no reply. “Is this a hawk I have here, or something else?” Tessa asked. Nemglan was Lord of the Skies, and took a hawk shape himself. Could it be...? “My son. I’m sorry to intrude, but it felt necessary at the time. I didn’t have time to explain any of this…” he gestured to the hawk, as if that clarified it, “…gently. He didn’t know of his parentage. His mother was human. You know of the threat facing the half-humans? The assassin has Nathan’s name. I could not let him find my son unprepared.” “Of course not,” Tessa said slowly. That didn’t tell her how they’d landed on her doorstep. “We came through the oakgate portal. You’re the nearest friend, and with Nathan in this condition…I don’t think he’s ever shifted before. He seems confused. When he calms down – most likely when he sleeps – he’ll return to his Sidhe form.” “His human form, you mean?” “Does this offend you? I didn’t realize you held your prejudices closer than your friends.” Nemglan shamed her without hesitation. Tessa could understand. You did what you had to when it came to family. Again her thoughts touched on Mikhail’s secret. Maybe she should have just told her brother what Abarta knew, and how he was using the information. Nemglan cleared his throat. “That was uncalled for. I’m sorry.” “No, I was just thinking that I understand your situation. Will you stay here with your son?” “Actually, I want to go help track down Abarta. Am I inconveniencing you?” “I don’t know what to do with children.” Nemglan regarded her carefully. “You misunderstand me. My son is grown.” “His human blood must run strong if he hadn’t shifted until now,” Tessa pointed out, just to needle him. He gritted his teeth and then forced a smile. “You may be right. I have no idea. We only met today. I guess you’ll have to see for yourself. So you’ll look after him for a few days?”“Why not? I’m just cataloguing books. I’ll see that he’s comfortable. Return when you can. I’m sure he’ll have questions, and I don’t have any answers for him.” Tessa hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. Now she had one of the half-humans her blackmailer was looking for right under her roof. The solution to her problem had just dropped in her lap – or onto her arm, as the case seemed to be. She didn’t think she could betray a friend, though, even to save her brother’s secret. Having too much information and being unable to use it was enough to turn Tessa’s mood sour. “Thank you. I will return as soon as I can.” Nemglan handed her a bag she guessed was his son’s and left quickly, sparing only a glance for the hawk. Maybe it was better that way. It obviously hadn’t been a smooth introduction. Tessa sank to the floor, the hawk still perched on her arm. “What shall we do now, my feathered friend?” The hawk looked at her, as if in reproach. Then it hopped to the floor and walked in the opposite direction, shunning her. “That’s just as well. You make yourself comfortable. I’ll just be over here.” Tessa returned to her work, but dire thoughts plagued her. She’d tried so hard not to focus on the subject of her brother’s secret…but her present company brought her mind back to it again and again. It seemed every sign today told her it was time to face facts. Her own family was just as affected by recent turmoil among the Sidhe as Nemglan’s. Mikhail’s secret was a half-blood daughter of his own, a three-year-old girl whose mother was half-human and half-Fomorii. Tessa had seen the girl, and neither she nor her mother were monstrous. That was a blessing. Yet the blood was there, an ancient enemy embraced in the dearest way. Her brother shared a child with that race that had attempted to invade Underworld just a few months ago. If it came out, Tessa didn’t know what would happen to her brother’s career. Their family would be eternally stained by such a connection. Tessa ground her teeth together in fury. How could Mikhail be so stupid? She sure hoped it had been worth it, because now the news of this child threatened everything they held dear, one way or another. Her choices were grim. She could let it come out, the news of their mingled blood, or she could go along with Abarta. If she gave him the bird boy…Tessa’s gaze found the hawk, now standing on one leg in the corner, his neck feathers still ruffled. As she watched, his form shifted; it was like watching the aura separate from the body, then snap back into place, with the body in a different form. She’d expected an adolescent, and was shocked to instead see a grown man. The man huddled on the floor, his hands pressed to his temples. His eyes were still closed in an attractive strong-jawed face. He had the characteristic high cheekbones that gave him a look of the Sidhe, but she would have taken him for a human if she hadn’t known his heritage, just a particularly nice-looking one. When his eyes snapped open, he retained the piercing element of the hawk in brown eyes flecked with amber. He stared, unspeaking, and Tessa didn’t know what to do besides stare back. Her peevish mood flashed to angry for a moment. She’d offered to help, and minutes later this ignorant half-human was dropped off for her to babysit. What was she supposed to do with him? Tessa was a solitary creature by nature, and this situation was likely to test her last nerve. She should just take him to Abarta, he was exactly what the blackmailer was after. Except that her lofty morals and soft heart seemed to be getting the best of her.    ###
If you enjoyed this free excerpt, Flight is available at these retailers:Amazon / Amazon UK / iBooks / Barnes & Noble / Smashwords

Vessel (Children of the Sidhe, #2)

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Eddie Drake, notorious agent of the Sidhe Authority, has always been a womanizer. So he’s loath to admit when he can’t get a certain black-haired witch out of his mind. But can Drake, the fae enforcer, protect Alise when she gets mixed up in plots being incited among the Sidhe?

When Alise Rodgers wakes up in Otherworld, a mysterious connection to the place haunts her. And then there’s a more immediate concern – she would never have expected to find Drake sitting vigil for her. While she’s grateful, she’s not at all interested in his bedroom eyes. But they must work together after Alise discovers a rebellious plot brewing among the Sidhe, and puts her life on the line in the bargain.

Excerpt:


Chapter 1The Middleworld forest whipped by as Eddie Drake hit his stride. He could feel tension from the past days flowing out of his burning muscles. Plants blurred along the trail at his feet as he concentrated on making the miles fly by.Most Sidhe didn’t exercise for exercise sake – so maybe it was that small human part of him that enjoyed it. He felt his best after a long run, his mind as clear as his body was fatigued.His head down, he hit a cloud of pixie dust and heard the offended pixie shout, “Hey! Watch yourself!”“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure there’s more where that came from,” he shouted back without even looking. Pixies were a dime a dozen. You could hardly shake a leg without, well, running straight into a cloud of pixie dust. He sneezed.Too soon, he saw home ahead. A little escape, that’s what he’d needed. For a few minutes, the burning of his muscles had distracted him from the oddities his life had taken on of late.Eddie Drake was no nursemaid. He’d never been the patient, caring type. He was a playboy, and it used to be pure and simple. He liked the ladies, and they liked him. Maybe he overindulged, that he could cop to. Maybe he’d been with too many ladies, too many times. That sort of behavior certainly couldn’t be seen as a precursor to this. No, his current predicament was more likely a punishment for prior bad behavior. Of course, it was a punishment he was choosing, which made it all the more odd.To satisfy whatever part of him was so worried, he ducked through the back door and sauntered into the third bedroom, the one that had recently been Alise’s room.Her condition unchanged, Alise rested, still as stone, under a white and cream quilt that had been his mother’s. Drake frowned. He’d stopped counting the days; there had been many. Maybe two weeks had passed as Alise lay unmoving. Okay, she wasn’t still all the time. A few nights she’d thrashed and moaned.He’d been so concerned the first time that happened that he’d stayed with her, holding her on the narrow bed until she calmed and seemed to rest. Relieved, he’d drifted off holding her, and been embarrassed to be found in that compromising position when Aunt Nectar came in to check on Alise.Cuddling.Cuddling with the unconscious.Not a good sign.If only he hadn’t gotten her into this mess. That’s what had him all tied up in doubt and fear. She wouldn’t be in that bed, unaware of her surroundings but drowning in the music and magic of Tir Nan Og, if it weren’t for him. He’d made the choice to ask for her help when her best friend had been in trouble. She’d gladly given her help, not realizing it would cost her.So he owed her. At the very least, he owed her a trip back beyond the veil to where she came from, where her family and her world waited. He’d tried to give her that, but she thrashed as they approached the portal and wouldn’t calm until he retreated. He couldn’t figure that out. In her condition, how did she know when he threatened to take her home? Regardless, his attempts hadn’t worked, and neither had anything the local healer tried. Alise didn’t get worse, but she hadn’t come back to herself either. That’s what kept his stomach tied in knots, he told himself as he stood in the doorway, watching the raven-haired beauty sleep.Footsteps on the path outside brought Drake out of his thoughts. Maybe Aunt Nectar was home early. That would be good, because he had to go to the human world for at least a while tonight. His job waited for him, and some things he couldn’t let go for an undetermined period while Alise lay in that bed.It wasn’t Aunt Nectar darkening the path.Bertran stood, apparently evaluating his next step, outside the cottage, surrounded by the bright sights and sounds of a Middleworld day. The weather was perfect, but that didn’t help the storm clouds covering the countenance of this particular thorn in Drake’s side.“May I come in?” his old enemy asked.“Not in this lifetime.”“Don’t be ridiculous, Eddie. I must see how the witch fares.”“You’ve heard how she fares. I wouldn’t put a fox in the same room with sleeping chicks, or a sleeping chick, rather.”“Don’t grow fond of her. You know her kind do not belong in Tir Nan Og. Isn’t it obvious?” Bertran snickered.“You presume too far. Your orders carry no weight with me. I’ll answer to Kester or to Ian if he asks it of me. Until then, it is no one’s business how fond I grow.”“What is it about this witch that’s turned practical, selfish Eddie Drake into the pile of mush I see today? I have to know.” Bertran’s gaze returned to the cottage, as though he was wondering which room she was in and whether he could sneak a quick peek.Drake just glared and wished he had the magic to cast the smug bastard out of his line of sight. Bertran had always bullied Drake, starting when they were children. He’d been just as untouchable then as he was now as one of the youngest, and strongest, Sidhe Authority delegates. Drake didn’t have that sort of power. He was a grunt doing the Authority’s bidding beyond the veil, in the human world. Still, he knew in this topic Ian – soon to be leader of the Sidhe – would back him.Ian awaited Alise’s revival just as Drake did. His beloved, Hazel, would not wed until her best friend could stand with her.“You will tell me when she awakes,” Bertran said imperiously.“What do you care? I know Alise. What is your interest in her?”Bertran ignored the question. “You’ve made your choices, Drake. One like you, choosing to live beyond the veil, you’ll never belong in Tir Nan Og. You’re hardly Sidhe at all.” Bertran stalked off and Drake watched him go until he was out of sight, his shoulders tense.No good would come of Bertran’s fascination with keeping the blood pure. By his definition, Drake had to agree; he was hardly Sidhe at all. And he was glad of it. Smug, overbearing bastards like Bertran were why he’d chosen life beyond the veil to begin with. He’d never been accepted in Tir Nan Og. Well, that was fine with him. He hadn’t needed Bertran’s approval to make a life for himself.Drake’s exiled father had sent him to Tir Nan Og to live with Aunt Nectar after his mother’s death when he was seven. He’d known nothing of Otherworld at that age. His half-human mother had never entered Tir Nan Og. He’d been accepted in Aunt Nectar’s home, and loved. But even that foundation hadn’t been enough to protect him from the taunts of the other young Sidhe, over his dark coloring and his complete lack of magical gifts. As a kid Drake mostly kept to himself. He occasionally got into scrapes, and learned to hold his own. He didn’t have their magic, but he did have brute strength. Every time he got rough with one of them, there were fewer willing to mess with him later. He learned enough about independence and quick thinking to make a great agent for the Authority Guard when he came of age. Now they paid him to live beyond the veil, taking care of their business as needed. An enchanted pendant gave him defensive power, so Sidhe magic couldn’t harm him in the course of business. Other than that, he used his muscles. He liked using his muscles, something he felt most Sidhe didn’t appreciate enough.Drake wouldn’t have chosen to subject himself to Bertran’s presence, not to mention an exchange of words. He had about as little control over that as anything in his life at the moment. With that thought, he returned to Alise’s bedside. Maybe she would wake today and they could both get back beyond the veil, sooner rather than later.

Chapter 2The dark room flickered with the light of a single candle. A veil lay soft against her skin. She knew the room for her tomb, and the knowledge was a comfort. Then flashes, scenes passing rapidly. This must be what they meant when they said your life flashes before your eyes.A fair man with dark eyes and golden hair, his jawline too strong to be attractive. Instead he was cartoonish, and seething with barely suppressed rage. He held a knife by its hilt as though ready to throw it. Rage burned through her as well. Vengeance swelled in her blood. She would smite him to the ground. He would die writhing in agony; such was the punishment for disobeying her will. A swarm of ravens, the man’s eyes wide with fear, his lips stretching in a scream.The voice, not her own, “As I willed it, so is it done.”
Struggling from under an ocean of dreams, Alise Rodgers surfaced briefly, or she thought she surfaced. But she saw a face that couldn’t be hovering over her own. Quickly she succumbed again to the immense weight that clouded her mind and confused her senses.When next she surfaced, Alise focused with all her might on her surroundings. She could feel the song, or maybe hear it, just as she remembered, reverberating through the land that was Tir Nan Og. So she was in Otherworld, as she barely remembered. Forcing herself, she locked that music, that magic, into a small compartment of her mind, where it could tease her, but it would not overwhelm her senses. It took some time, and energy she didn’t have. Finally, she’d erected enough mental barriers, locked that part of her so easily seduced by Tir Nan Og so far inside, that she felt she might be able to function.She opened her eyes, blinking slowly to grow accustomed to the light. Drake held her hand, sitting concerned at her bedside. She shook off his fingers and frowned at him.“Yes! Now I know you’re coming out of it. That’s the antagonistic Alise I know.” His teasing words did nothing to improve her state of confusion. What the hell was her best friend’s ex doing sitting vigil for her? She’d been out of it for gods only knew how long – from the sawdust taste in her mouth it had likely been weeks – and this was the company she’d been left with?“What?” she croaked.Drake handed her a glass of water, the condensation cool between their brushing fingertips. She drank thankfully. While she did she thought about the fact that he was just as handsome as usual in that devilish way he had, and she was pretty sure she looked like something the cat would drag back out. At least it was Drake, and there was a less than zero chance they’d ever hook up, so what was she worried about?“You’ve been out of it.” Drake stated matter-of-factly. He stretched and flexed his muscular shoulders as though he’d been in one position too long.“You don’t say.” Her glare returned. “How long?”“About two weeks.”“You’re kidding.” She sat up in a rush, and fell back when her head swam dangerously. She needed to get herself under control. But last she could recall there had been so much on the line. She had to know how the battle had ended. Was that why Drake was here? “Hazel? The Fomorii tribute crap? You better start talking.”“Calm down. Seriously, you’re pushing it, even for you.” His look fierce, he leaned in until she resumed her position stretched out on…Oh, gods. This wasn’t his bed, was it? That cut it, she couldn’t relax. She sat up again, meeting his glare with her own. She was more careful this time, steeling her stomach against an ugly wave of nausea.“Okay. I’ll say it again. Start talking.”

Chapter 3Alise’s instant interrogation was no less than Drake had expected from her. She’d never been meek, and he’d never seen her quiet. Feistier than most, she even had a small streak of downright mean. He could dig it, he thought with a smile. At least she put his concerns to rest by living up to expectations.He answered her questions as well as he could. The battle with the Fomorii had proven short, and successful. None of the enemy had survived, and they’d suffered no casualties. That’s how smart it was of the Fomorii to invade Underworld.He got down to the news he knew would thrill her. “Hazel is in Underworld. She moved in with Ian and they’re talking marriage. Soon. Like as soon as you woke up, the last I heard.” Alise smiled. “That’s big news.” Her brow furrowed, as she got lost in her thoughts for a moment. “Hazel was here every day. Between us we about wore out this chair.” He kicked a leg of the strangely carved wooden monstrosity. “Why were you here so much?” She asked the question with her brows raised in a way that both mocked him and conveyed her intense interest in his answer. “I don’t know. I guess I felt responsible for you being in Otherworld to begin with. And we couldn’t figure out what was going on with you. What if you’d never woken up?” He couldn’t believe he’d said that. How cruel to point out how dire her situation had been right after she woke up.“Was Hazel as worried as you were?” “She just kept saying how strong you were. If you weren’t getting worse, you were sure to get better soon. All that hopeful crap.” Alise snorted a laugh.As though talking about her had brought her instantly to his door, Hazel walked in the front door, calling, “Hello?”He didn’t mind the intrusion. Though they’d only broken up about six months before, they’d somehow made a transition into an easy friendship. Maybe it was her new relationship with Ian, and with the Sidhe in general. Hazel hadn’t been interested in the Sidhe way of life, until she met Ian and he convinced her to give him a try. He was no playboy, no Eddie Drake.“She’s awake,” he said as Hazel peered into the small bedroom. His aunt’s cottage wasn’t large. She lived here alone now. When he was younger the place felt cozy. His aunt had only to start a soup in the kitchen and the savory scents would waft over the entire place. Bread was a whole other story; out of this world, or the one beyond the veil. Once he reached full size – which for him was six foot two and a couple of bills – the house felt snug, but he wasn’t here much.“Oh, thank the gods, each and every one of them.” Hazel pulled Alise into a tight hug and then pushed her back so she could look her over like a mother cat. “How you feeling, sweetie?” she purred.“Not particularly sweet. Haven’t bathed in – what did you say it was? Two weeks?” Alise regarded Drake with a sardonic smile. “Well, I wouldn’t say you didn’t bathe. You had several sponge baths,” he told her.“You fiend. You didn’t dare.” Her eyes narrowed in a look that told him she was thinking up the worst punishments she had in her arsenal.He laughed. “No. You’re right, I wouldn’t dare. You’re a hot head, and a powerful witch to boot, and I’d be pretty stupid to cross you, Alise. Hazel bathed you. I even left the room. Might have peeked a time or two, though.”Hazel socked him in the arm. “You did not. I shut the door, you big brute. Quit torturing her. Is that why you’re still here?”“Fine, I’ll take the not-so-subtle hint and mosey on so you two can talk.” He picked himself up off the chair, suddenly intensely grateful to be seeing the end of this vigil. He wasn’t used to sitting still so much. Before he reached the door Alise said, “Drake? Thanks.”Her smile was the prize. What the hell was the matter with him?

“I hear we have a wedding to plan,” Alise took in her best friend as she reclined back among the pillows on the bed. She couldn’t believe how tired she was already.“Crazy, huh?” Hazel shook her head, and Alise understood what she was feeling. A lot had changed. A month ago Hazel hadn’t even met Ian, and now she was living with him. To top it off, here she was talking to her best friend in Otherworld, a place she’d never dared hope to tread. Sure, she knew Sidhe aplenty from having grown up next door to Hazel. Many of them were scary, some were downright dangerous, and they were all selfish and arrogant. Hazel turned the conversation around. “You look different. Are you sure you feel okay?”“As good as can be expected. I slept for ages. Strange dreams, too. I don’t feel like myself, but does that surprise you?”“No. It’s just…” Hazel searched her eyes, and Alise didn’t know what she was looking for. “Never mind. I’m sure you’re right, you just need to get more rest.”“Ugh. More rest?” She snuggled down under the blanket, knowing she’d be asleep again before long despite her objections. “Let’s talk more about this wedding. Do you have a dress yet?”###
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Tribute (Children of the Sidhe, #1)

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Hazel Fintan is the reluctant daughter of the Irish love god, Aengus. She tries to blend in the human world, but her effect on human men makes normal relationships impossible. She’s never cared for her father’s world, especially its infuriating men. Being drawn into a conflict with a legendary race over an impossible tribute doesn’t improve her perception of the Sidhe. But meeting Ian could make the whole adventure worth it.

The tribute may be what brought them together, but Ian MacIlroy knows destiny when it stares him in the face with stunning green eyes and a gorgeous smile. Now he has a new mission. Hazel will be his, at any cost. And the cost could be high when Otherworld’s enemies are denied what they seek.

Excerpt:

Chapter 1Getting her oil changed wasn’t exactly Hazel’s idea of a fun chore for Friday afternoon, but the sixteen-year-old drooling over her made it nearly unbearable this time. Literally, drooling.
She shot him a short-tempered look as she put on her sunglasses, the Portland sun requiring it for once, though a deep gray line of clouds already clustered along the western horizon. “Can you just finish with the car already?”
He gulped. “Hey, when I’m done do you want to go to dinner or something?”
Hazel sighed and cast him a sweet smile. “You don’t want anything to do with the likes of me, kid.”
He just smiled at her and nodded, his brain obviously addled.
“So that’s a no. No dinner. Just finish my car. Thanks.”
Confused and deflated, he shook his shaggy hair into his face so she couldn’t see his profile as he worked. He called out to his pit crew, his tone wistful and sad.
Gods. Wouldn’t it be great to be normal?
Crushing men wasn’t Hazel’s idea of a good time. It was just that many of them had no control over themselves when she was around. The drooling was not attractive. But they didn’t know that. They didn’t even realize how silly they looked. It was part of her draw; men tended to be totally focused on her, unable to string together more than a sentence, much less keep her entertained for a date. They were compelled to look, to touch if she’d let them, hovering over her the entire time.
She’d heard she was lucky. Some Sidhe drew humans to madness, despair – even violence. They just wanted to love her.
Still, it was annoying.
A buzzing from her purse cast a wave of relief over her. Blessed distraction. She looked up and caught the boy staring again, and frowned at him as she reached into her purse.
Checking the number that had just flashed on her cell phone, Hazel sighed. The age-old question: to answer, or not to answer? Swallowing, she hit send.
“Hello?”
“Hazel. Glad I caught you. Got a little problem I could use your help with.”
“Thankfully, your problems don’t have anything to do with me anymore.”
“They do when they’re not mine specifically, but more, you know, ours.”
“Great,” Hazel said. If he meant what she thought he did, her hope of getting out of whatever this was had just faded fast.
“There’s a human over here who needs to get in touch with the Fomorii. Has to pay a tribute of some kind, but hasn’t been able to get through. Think you could take him?”
“Can I take him?” Like she didn’t have enough to do. “Drake, this is your job. You know I was never into this stuff.”
“You’re missing the point. He needs to go. I can’t take him, so I thought of you.”
“Why can’t you take him?” Drake was the obvious choice. After all, he worked for the Sidhe Authority, taking care of the Otherworld government’s business in the human world. Hazel had as little to do with Otherworld affairs as possible.
“Let’s call it a little interpersonal issue between me and the Fomorii contact. I’m waiting another decade at least before I meet up with that guy again, for everyone’s sake. I’m supposed to be smoothing relations, remember?”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. When we were together, I dealt with your interpersonal issues. Now that we’re not, I don’t see what this has to do with me.”
“You’re Sidhe, so you’re in. Our problems are your problems, and this falls into that category. Just think, what would Aunt Brigit say?”
“Damn,” she growled. He had to bring her aunt into it. Of course she knew what Brigit would say. You get the benefits; a certain amount of dirty work comes with it. Help your people. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do again?”


Eddie Drake’s office – if you wanted to dignify it with that name – was a run down loft in a run down neighborhood. From one threadbare couch, Ian MacIlroy stared out on a lifeless street. Drake was on the phone, and Ian could hear every word being said through the flimsy partition that separated the waiting area from Drake’s inner sanctum – which housed more threadbare chairs and an ancient, scratched up desk.
Ian counted himself lucky that Drake was willing to help him. He wasn’t sure what he would have tried next. He’d been looking for almost a year now, trying to figure out this tribute, how to get it paid and get back to his own life.
A year. Hard to believe that was the price he’d already paid for this mad errand. A year of his life wasted on attempts, and still nothing to give the Fomorii.
The door to the office swung open and Drake stepped out. “She’s on her way. Be here in a flash. Want a beer while we wait?”
Drake popped the caps on two bottles and handed one to Ian.
Ian gestured toward the street. “Seems pretty quiet. Mind if I ask why you’re located here?”
“An assignment. Lots of portals in Oregon. I only asked for beyond the veil.”
“I’ve never really understood why Sidhe would choose to live beyond the veil with humans.”
“Plenty of perks. Sidhe living among humans tend to get what they want, most of the time anyway.” Drake took a long swig, as he looked Ian over. “I’m hoping Hazel will be able to help with your problem, at least get you in to talk to the Fomorii. We’ll figure it out.”
Ian put his head in his hands. “I’m just out of ideas. I don’t know how to satisfy them, but I know I must before I can get back to my life.”
A tall woman burst into the loft, red hair alight in the afternoon sun and arms full with a box that rattled as she pushed the door shut with her hip and set it on a table just inside.
“What’s in the box?” Drake asked.
“More of your stuff,” she told him as she came across the room. She stretched out a hand to Ian. “Hazel Fintan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Ian MacIlroy. Glad to meet you.” He stood to shake her hand. Her height surprised him; she was only about an inch shy of his even six feet. She was also a knockout. Big surprise.
“Good, you’ve taken care of the introductions for me. Now give Hazel the same story you told me, from the beginning.” Drake winked at her and nodded at another chair opposite Ian.
Rolling her eyes at Drake, Hazel took the chair and gave Ian a long once over that made him grin. She was definitely Sidhe.
Sobering, he turned to his story. “Unfortunately there really isn’t much story to tell. I guess it is something that happens in my family. Every generation pays their dues. A very specific tribute handed over to the Fomorii. It’s been that way for fifty generations or so.”
“What do you get out of the bargain?” Hazel asked.
He paused, not sure how to put it. “Um… a fertility blessing.”
“Is that all?” She laughed, her smile lighting her eyes engagingly.
“Anyway, the tribute is one hundred eggs of a certain pond turtle in Europe. Of course, that turtle has gone extinct since my father collected his tribute. No turtles. No eggs. No tribute,” he summed up with a shrug of the shoulders.
“So, Ian here needs to speak with the Fomorii, for obvious reasons. Some other tribute will have to be decided, and it should probably be soon. These transactions tend to come with a certain window of opportunity. We wouldn’t want Ian to miss it.”
Ian went pale. “No, I can’t miss it. I have to do this right. My family is at stake.”
“What happens if you don’t make tribute?”
“Several things. Most importantly, our family ends with my generation. If we don’t make tribute, no one in my family will have another child. Everything’s at stake.”
“Alright then,” Hazel said. She turned to Drake, all business. “Who do I talk to?”


Chapter 2They stood on a rainy corner a few hours later. Hazel had no trouble reaching the Fomorii, and now it was down to the waiting game. She looked over at eye-candy, passing the time. For a human, Ian was hot – broad and muscular with dark blue eyes and brown, wavy hair. A little too wholesome to be her type, sure, but he was nice enough to look at.
Right on time, a black limousine pulled up, and the rear door swung open to receive them.
“Come,” a voice, nearly a hiss, issued from the back seat.
Hazel sat across from the Fomorii contact, with Ian beside her. She’d never met one of the Fomorii before. He wore a glamour. It was a pleasing human face, but she knew it could not be his true face. Right now it smiled pleasantly, as he took his time looking her over.
“Hazel, daughter of Aengus,” she spoke, reaching out a hand.
“So your message said.” He eyed her hand, extended in such a human gesture. When he did not reach for it, she took it back, settling into the opposite seat.
“I am Ellis, son of my father. His name is none of your concern.”
Hazel laughed.
Ellis turned to Ian. “The reason we’re here?” he asked shortly.
“I’m Ian MacIlroy. My family owes you a tribute we are unable to pay. Hazel brought me for your advice.”
“Yes, you owe the medib. Did you say you are unable to pay?” His dark eyes had become slits.
“The turtle is extinct. There are no eggs.”
“Hazel, did this one just tell me that the key ingredient of the Fomorii festival drink ajma no longer exists?”
“Ellis, you heard correctly. That’s exactly what he told you. How will he pay his tribute now?”
“Do you know of ajma?”
“I can’t say I’ve heard of it.”
“Ajma is the bringer of bliss, the entrance to ecstasy. You’re the daughter of a love deity, aren’t you?”
Hazel drew in a breath. She hadn’t realized he would know of her father. “I see. It’s an aphrodisiac, then?”
Ian groaned.
“The most powerful known, and it must have the medib.”
“It’s about to get pricier then, isn’t it? Not much to be done about extinct eggs.”
“No. Unsuitable. You must make tribute.” He pointed at Ian.
“I will. I swear it. But what can I bring you since I can’t bring the eggs?”
“Who knows of a replacement for the egg in ajma? Does a love god know?” Ellis’ gaze swung to Hazel. “Ask Aengus.”
It was Hazel’s turn to groan.
“If he knows of something suitable, bring it to me. Bring it by the full moon. If not, the tribute goes unpaid.”


With two weeks until their deadline, Hazel had to think fast. First, she flipped open her cell and called the last person who dialed her.
“Hello?” Drake answered.
“Was there another reason for pulling me in that you wanted to divulge?”
She thought she heard a gulp on the other end before he answered. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, a little something about this errand requires that I call my father. Did you know about that when you called me?”
“Come on Hazel, calm down. Yeah, I figured. I’d heard the Fomorii were getting bent out of shape over an aphrodisiac, so when Ian told his tale I put two and two together. I just didn’t think that was the best way to approach you with it.”
“Instead, present the hot guy in need of help, and let my natural kindness set in? I should have told you to go–”
“You think he’s hot?”
“Jealous?”
Drake laughed. “Hon, I’m over you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I just dropped him off. Don’t blame you for not wanting to meet up with that contact, by the way. Creepy.”
“Fomorii.” After a pause, he asked, “Have you called Aengus?”
“I’m about to. You owe me big.”


Chapter 3 “We’re going out, babe. Need your help with some emergency shopping, and I’ll treat you to dinner after.” Hazel told her best friend Alise when she answered the phone. They’d forsaken hellos long ago.
“Pick me up in an hour.”
Hazel filled Alise in on their way to the mall. She was insulted to find that the dark-haired beauty beside her was more interested in the chance to meet an old race of beings than the cute guy she’d met. That was Alise, though. She’d always been more into this Otherworld stuff than Hazel, regardless of the fact she was purely human.
Growing up next to Hazel had been luck of the draw, but Alise hadn’t let any of it slide by her. She knew more of the history, more of the legend and myth, than Hazel had ever been interested in learning. She had also grown into a powerful witch in her own right. Having a goddess next door helped, and Alise’s interest kept Brigit from going overboard drilling Hazel.
The truth was Hazel was more interested in the human world than what Brigit could teach her. She never planned to return to Otherworld. Oh, maybe for a vacation or two, but not to stay – much to her aunt’s chagrin. Hazel often wondered if Brigit regretted the choice to raise her among humans.
It was nearly impossible to find a parking space. After circling for what seemed like hours, Alise took matters into her own hands. With a flick of the wrist, she repainted the lines at the end of one row of cars, leaving a spot at the end just for them.
“I won’t get a ticket?” Hazel still hadn’t paid the last one. Mental note.
“Nope, the illusion will hold for the afternoon. Let’s go.” Alise grinned, positively gleeful. She did love pulling one over on people.


Hazel shut the car door with one hip, wrestling her shopping bags into order as she struggled toward her house.
“I’d say that was a success,” Alise said as she juggled her purchases in a similar fashion.
“Yep, everything I need to spend a few days in the company of a complete hottie. Let the seduction begin.”
“Weird you met him through Drake, though.”
“I’m trying not to think of it that way. Opportunities come as they will – who am I to refuse them, even when they come through the evil ex?”
“Good point. It has been awhile. Don’t blame you for taking whatever comes your way.” Alise smiled sweetly at Hazel’s scowl.
“Hazel?” Brigit spoke from the kitchen.
“I’m home,” she called in response. She and Alise managed to get into the kitchen, where they set their bags on the table and watched sweaters and bras promptly spill out.
“Looks like quite a shopping trip,” Brigit said from the other side of the pile. Her blond hair and blue eyes could still be seen, but the rest of her was hidden behind a pastel castle of clothing. “What’s the occasion?”
“Since when do I need an occasion to spend?” Hazel asked. Sidhe were drawn to beauty, and for those who lived beyond the veil, that tended to mean shopping addiction. Brigit was old enough to have avoided such a fate; she’d already hoarded baubles aplenty long before shopping malls existed.
“Hazel met a guy,” Alise informed Brigit, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“A new beau? Tell me about him,” Brigit ordered. She swept over to the stove and put on a kettle for tea.
“I don’t know much about him yet. He’s gorgeous, and his name’s Ian. He’s human,” Brigit clicked her tongue in surprise at that, “and stuck with some tie to the Fomorii.” Hazel nodded, her commentary complete.
“So, I gather it’s the gorgeous part that got you?” Brigit laughed.
“Sure. Why not?” Hazel reached for an apple from a bowl on the counter, and settled back, taking a huge bite.
Brigit smirked. “Ian, hmm? Well, I think it’s wonderful.”
Hazel was going through her purchases. A coral sweater caught her eye. That’s the one she’d wear tomorrow. With some tight dark jeans and boots, she mused.

Ian didn’t stand a chance.
###
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Descent (Children of the Sidhe, #4)

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When Rosa Elizar thinks of her ex, they aren’t kind thoughts. Mikhail left her, pregnant and alone, four years ago. She can take care of herself; she’s the Guardian of Dubhros and quite skilled at doing so. But Mikhail’s sudden reappearance comes with ill tidings of an Otherworld war – one Rosa is, by birthright, right smack in the middle of. After all this time, can Rosa trust Mikhail with her precious daughter…and her heart?
Mikhail Anndrais has carried his regrets like another sort of armor, every single day since he left Rosa beyond the veil, to raise their child alone. At a time of great danger for his people, the Sidhe, Mikhail must convince Rosa to bring their daughter to Otherworld. Only there, together, will they be able to keep her safe. 

Excerpt:

Chapter 1Rosa Elizar halted uncertainly on a trail she’d known all her life. What her eyes told her just couldn’t be. She was only half a mile from the Tree of Dubhros, her ward as Guardian of Dubhros, and she knew every inch of the surrounding forest. This world’s bland gray shades couldn’t hide the richness of the forest life from her eye. That was her duty.Rosa flicked a blade from its scabbard, just in case. The knife she’d chosen was only four inches long, suitable for close-up contact. It was one of a dozen blades she had on her person today. A Guardian had to be prepared. You never knew what you’d come across in Echtge – this shadowy forest dimension that Rosa tried to protect along with her ward.Case in point…Rosa examined her alarming find for the day.The creature before her hadn’t been seen since times of legend. She moved cautiously, unsure what to expect from the being that used to be a pixie. Now it was llaiadian, the dark pixie. She’d never seen one – not even a picture, as she hadn’t learned the lore from books – but she knew what it was. It stared at her, dark eyes unblinking, skin rippling with shadow. Creepy. Losing patience, she flung her short blade without warning. The creature skittered off, and Rosa lost sight of it. She retrieved her knife and slipped it into its accustomed place.Rosa watched for signs of more of them as she hiked closer to her ward, but she didn’t see any. As she neared the spot where the Tree of Dubhros stood, her heart thumped in her chest, faster and faster as anxiety gripped her–The Tree of Dubhros stood unmolested at the edge of the clearing.Rosa allowed herself a single breath of relief, of wonder that this being should depend so wholly on her, faulty and half-human as she was.“Are you alright, child?” The Tree of Dubhros spoke, a creaking sound like a loud whisper that seemed to fill the clearing.Rosa smiled. “As always, I am happy to see you, my friend.” “And I, you, Rosa.” Du’s limbs shuddered, as though he were stretching after waking from a doze. She nodded. “All is well here?”A deep rumble she knew for his chuckle sounded around her. “Little changes here. Yes. All is well.”“Some things do change.”“What do you mean?” Now his tone was curious. She worried she’d hear fear there next.“I saw a llaiadian.”A hush fell all around. Rosa hadn’t realized how much chatter was going on in the underbrush among the small creatures of Echtge. After all, the Tree of Dubhros only had one home. A tree can’t travel portals. It has deep roots.That was something Rosa knew about. Her mother had fostered deep roots. She’d been human, with a half-Fomorii daughter, and the future Guardian of Dubhros at that. She prayed for Rosa every day, clutching her rosary beads in the local cathedral. She lavished her only daughter with love, games and laughter. Rosa had it good as a kid, despite her differences from others. She’d never had a real human friend as a child. As a kid she was strong. Very strong. And quicker than she should have been. Enough that it alarmed other kids, not to mention their parents. Her friends had been trees. It was probably for the best.“What is it?” she finally asked, breaking the eerie silence.“Where did you see this creature? And are you sure it is llaiadian?”“It is exactly as you have described to me. Small body, wingless, mottled and bluish-gray. It looked as though a storm cloud crept under its skin – like a pixie, yet not at all like a pixie. It is llaiadian. And it was close. About a half-mile from here.”The hush deepened, if that was possible, and then the creepy silence was broken as chatter erupted in the forest.“Yes. The creatures of Echtge confirm it. The llaiadian has stepped from legend into reality.” A sadness deep as his ancient roots filled the tree’s voice. “What does it mean?” Rosa knew if Du was this upset, it was not good.“A time of darkness is coming. The dark pixies are a sign...that all is not right between the worlds.”

Mikhail Anndrais itched to wring his hands together, a nervous gesture he’d given up long ago. He hadn’t felt nerves like this for a long time. Not since he found his purpose with the Sidhe Authority Guard. Now that purpose was in jeopardy, and his career hung in the balance as he prepared to tell his superiors everything. But it wasn’t only that. He was also preparing to go beyond the veil and fetch the family he never should have left.The door opened, and Ian ducked to get through the doorway without knocking the antlers that crowned him the chosen of Cernunnos, Lord of the Forest, and their leader by birthright. He gave Mikhail a tight smile, and stalked to the far corner, crossing his arms and obviously wondering what had caused Mikhail to pull them all together at such short notice.Drake followed, with Alise right behind him. Drake shot Mikhail a warning glance, and Mikhail choked back a laugh. He had his hands full with that woman. No doubt she’d invited herself when Drake got the call.Gareth joined them, too, with a dark look in his eyes as he watched Mikhail. “So we’re here. What’s this about?”Mikhail glowered back. “I have information to share with you, and then I’m going beyond the veil for reasons that will be obvious in a moment.” He gathered his resolve and set his shoulders, then spoke the words that would change his life forever. “I have a daughter. She’s three years old. Her mother is half-human, and half-Fomorii.”  He’d expected gasps, and other signs of shock. What he hadn’t expected was the silence, and the wide eyes as if none of them were completely sure he was serious. It wasn’t a joke.Ian was the first to speak. “I presume you’re telling us because Abarta has caught wind of the girl?”“Exactly. He’s attempting to blackmail my sister and me into switching sides.”Ian smiled, and this time it reached his eyes. “You’re a good man, to bring it straight to us. So you go beyond the veil to fetch them?”Gareth cleared his throat. “You’re not going to say anything about her parentage? She’s a Fomorii brat? And the mother is coming here?”Ian spun to face him, lightning in his yes. “Do you have something you want to say?” The two were old friends, and it was surprising to see Ian turn on Gareth so, but there had been a lot of tension around these issues in past months, and Ian was getting it from all sides. Who could blame him if he expected his closest friends to be with him, not questioning him? “I will welcome the children of my friends. They are Sidhe above all, and their home is Tir Nan Og.”Mikhail cleared his throat. “There is more you should know.”Ian frowned, pinning Mikhail with a stare that said he’d better not have misplaced his trust. Mikhail glowered back. He wasn’t used to answering to Ian yet, and that stare wasn’t warranted.“The mother, Rosa, is the Guardian of Dubhros.”“What?” Ian sputtered. “A half-human woman is the Guardian of Dubhros?”“Her father’s only daughter. And he died before he could train her. She’s been Guardian since the age of twelve. She is fit for the role, believe me.”Gareth laughed suddenly, a mean-spirited cackle. “When did you get so desperate, Mikhail? Did she catch you drunk or something?”Mikhail ignored him, watching Ian as his mind worked over the complications here. Rosa was an impartial Guardian, mother of a Sidhe child, a three-year-old girl.Ian shook his head, “I’m not sure what to make of that, but it doesn’t change things. All the more reason the girl needs to be protected. Your kid is the future Guardian of Dubhros?”Mikhail felt a shiver run through him. He had tried not to think about that. Ian’s appraising gaze reminded him it was a matter of some importance. The Tree of Dubhros was a source of near ultimate power for a Fomorii. If you had the Guardian in your pocket, you had access to the tree. In this time of turmoil among the Fomorii, Rosa and the child might be in even more danger than he’d assumed.

Chapter 2 “Did you have a fun day, mija?” Rosa asked three-year-old Sirena when she found her in their small back yard. Her dark-haired little darling was turning over rocks to find bugs, among the flowers and the blueberry bushes that were her favorites. “Oh, we had fun. I went to the park with Edith, and the library. And we ate lunch outside, like a picnic.” She struggled for a second, a frown furrowing her small brow. “Can you turn this one over for me, Mom?”“I bet you can do it, babe.”“Oh! That’s right.” She concentrated for a second, and then nudged the rock with a single finger, sending it flipping twice to land askew in the flower garden. She giggled, the sound a shooting star to Rosa’s soul. Sirena’s Sidhe side had begun to show through as Rosa trained her on what little Fomorii strength and speed had emerged. It was as though if she thought about it, she could give herself a boost wherever her attention was focused. Her drawings were ridiculously advanced for a three-year-old, as though her Sidhe magic allowed her to transfer the images directly from her brain onto the page, so precisely they evoked the emotional intensity of childhood. While Sirena went back to her bug hunting, Rosa went inside to grab a bite to eat. Edith had dished up a plate for her while she was outside, and it was waiting in front of her seat at the round kitchen table. Edith was cleaning up the dishes from her meal earlier with Sirena. On the days Rosa went into the forest, she didn’t get home until it was nearly Sirena’s bedtime. It was a full day, but she only had to do it once a week, because time moved so much more slowly in Echtge. That was good, because otherwise Rosa didn’t know how she’d handle the commitments of parenthood and being the tree’s Guardian. Edith made everything possible, but she wasn’t going to overtax her kind friend. Thank God she didn’t have to.“You are too nice, cooking me dinner this way,” Rosa put her arm around Edith’s shoulders. “Thank you for taking such good care of us.”Rosa couldn’t guess how she’d been so blessed, only by the grace of God. When she’d moved into this house, pregnant and alone, Edith had brought cookies over the very next day. She was retired, and her children had moved away for jobs, the last one recently. They’d become friends and been through a lot together in the nearly four years since that day.“What’s bothering you, Rosa? You’re not right tonight.”Rosa looked her friend in the eye. This was a woman she could trust. Hell, she trusted her with Sirena, her baby, so what wouldn’t she trust her with? “I’m worried. I saw signs today that change is afoot in Echtge. I don’t know what to make of it. The place is eternal, unchanging. And my forebears have guarded it millennia upon millennia. But I’ve always known what to expect there. All it takes is one mistake–”“You will not think that way. It doesn’t help to feel out of control. My dear, you need to remember what you’ve accomplished. You learned your role without the benefit of a mentor, and you’ve told me that’s unheard of before you. Give yourself some credit – you deserve it. Now sit down and eat.” Edith’s no-nonsense style was the perfect counter to Rosa’s occasional self-doubt. She was usually the confident, competent woman Edith described. But that occasional doubt could be a killer.Rosa sat down as Edith asked, and breathed in the aroma of roasted chicken with sauteed veggies served with creamy polenta. It was heaven after a day in the gray forest of Echtge.“Are you sure you’re okay with staying over tonight? I could call Sherek and cancel.”“You go out seldom enough as it is. You’re going. I’m fine in the guest room. It’s practically my room anyway.” She shot Rosa a big grin. She was an abuela in the making, that was for sure, and she loved Sirena like her own blood. If Sirena couldn’t have her own grandmother, she was blessed to have Edith.“Thank you, Edith. Sherek would murder me if I cancelled now, anyway.” Her friend would have left the Fomorii homeland of Domnu already to reach their favorite meeting spot. Rosa took a greater interest in her plate. After Sirena went to bed, she would get dressed up and go meet her only Fomorii girlfriend for a drink. She sniffed. Better shower first. It had already been a long day.“Mom? I’m getting tired,” Sirena yawned.“Let’s go brush those pearly whites and read your books.”They had the usual squabble over how many stories, and Rosa gave in, as she always did. When it came to bedtime, Rosa always treasured these quiet moments together.Rosa crept from Sirena’s room when the little girl was fast asleep, after the requisite three bedtime stories. She smiled.When she got to their favorite watering hole, Sherek had taken a table in the back corner, near the pinball machines and posters of sport cars. Rosa wasn’t sure why they liked this place, except that the guys knew they were far outclassed and didn’t bother approaching them, and they’d never seen anyone use those pinball machines. It was a quiet corner in an otherwise busy world. With cocktails.“I ordered your rum and coke. Take a load off.” Sherek wasn’t bad looking for Fomorii, but here she cloaked her appearance so the humans wouldn’t know she was something else. She looked like a college girl, a grown-up version of the girl next door. In reality, it would only take a couple of days of malnourishment before she’d eat the girl next door. But that didn’t matter to Rosa. Despite her petite frame, Rosa could beat the crap out of Sherek any day. Guardian strength.“How are you?” Rosa gave her friend a hug before taking the seat across from her. She was just in time to relieve the waitress of that rum and coke. “Oh, I’ve been better. This war is taking its toll on everyone.”Rosa managed not to sputter around the fist sip of her drink. “War?”Sherek looked at her like she’d suddenly grown two heads. “Yeah. The Aphrodisiac War? It’s ripping Domnu apart, Rosa. Are you so sheltered here that you didn’t even know what takes place in the Fomorii realm?” Sherek flushed with anger, her glamour slipping to reveal a heart-shaped face with huge eyes, a flat nose, and sharp, pointed teeth. “You’re showing your true face, hon. Want to cool it?” Rosa gave her friend a few seconds to compose herself before she went on. Sherek was obviously distressed. “No, I haven’t heard of a Fomorii war. What’s going on?” “The Ajma ran out weeks ago. It usually keeps us under a good degree of control, you know. Soothes the beast, so to speak. Now it’s gone, and the ingredients no longer exist. Everything is changing. And our natural aggression is showing.” Sherek shot her a feral smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That’s tough.” Rosa didn’t want to come off as callous, but the troubles of the Fomorii weren’t her problem.“I’m surprised you didn’t know. There’s talk of the berries from the Tree of Dubhros providing a suitable replacement for Ajma, at least partially. Maybe enough so we can live together.”Rosa didn’t speak. If Sherek had heard talk of this, it was widespread. Sherek wasn’t in a position of power. She was an artisan, a weaver. If this talk was on the streets, what were the Fomorii leaders considering behind closed doors?

Chapter 3Mikhail stood outside the small, tidy house, gathering his nerve. Rosa had never appreciated attempts to control her. She made her own decisions. So how was he to convince her that she needed him now, when he’d left years ago?He knew he had to do this. But facing the woman he left when she wouldn’t abort her pregnancy was beyond difficult. He had changed since then. Just knowing he had a daughter had fostered a maturity, a different viewpoint on the world, that he hadn’t anticipated. But why should Rosa believe it? He’d left her alone, knowing she had no family to turn to. With his child. Sure, he’d given her money, but that was worth nothing to him, and Rosa knew it. He’d cut her out of his life, and had never even met his daughter.A slamming car door brought Mikhail out of his thoughts, and he turned. There stood Rosa, her cheeks flushed and dark eyes sparkling in challenge.As had always happened with Rosa, his body responded to her instantly. Of course he wanted her. At one time, she’d been his.Then another woman stepped from the car, coming around to Rosa’s side to face off with him. Her glamour rippled, and revealed her monstrous visage. Fomorii.“Rosa? What’s he doing here?” the Fomorii woman asked his ex.“I have no idea. But he won’t be here long, I can tell you that much.”Mikhail held his hands up in mock surrender. He didn’t provoke her with a smile. “I need to talk to you, Rosa. It’s important.”“So you just show up?”“I should have said urgent.”Rosa said nothing, she just watched him, and Mikhail could see her surprise giving way to rage.“Do you need me to stay?” her friend asked.“No. I’ll call you.” They hugged, Rosa stiffly as she continued to stare him down. The friend got back in her car and drove away.
Mikhail repressed the urge to shudder, though he wasn’t sure if he was thankful the creature had departed, or afraid to be alone in the dark with the woman he had utterly betrayed.###
If you enjoyed this free excerpt, Descent is available from these retailers:Amazon / Amazon UK / iBooks / Barnes & Noble / Smashwords

Mid-Week Update: Stalling Tactics

I've been avoiding my major writing project for more than a week now. Shield is two-thirds written, and it's pretty typical of me to get stuck about here. So wish me courage and a little get-up-and-go on that one. :)
Does that mean I haven't been writing? lol. No! I've been writing plenty. I've started (and nearly finished) two more short stories in the last two weeks. And last night I had an idea for a third, tied to one of the other recent shorts. I plan to spend a lot of my summer writing short stories. They're claiming my attention at the moment. Lots of fun. :)
Shield will get finished in the next couple of weeks. My goal there is still 5,000 words a week. A total miss this week, but I will recommit in the next couple of days and start to knock it out.
Best of luck this week, in your writing and in life!

Project FAILED: A Marketing Example from Craft Brewing

In the great land of Oregon....we brew beer. Well, I don't brew beer personally. But one of my besties was among the first female brewers in the state, and she used to bring me free beer all the time...but enough about that. :)

This week I was in the mood for a microbrew, and it's always amazing to look at the beer shelf and see NEW BEER. Stuff I have never tried. A cool label sucked me in right away, and the more I thought about it, the more I had to share my beer experience with you. Hehe.

The beer I want to talk about comes from a Bend, Oregon brewery called 10 Barrel Brewing Company. I know 10 Barrel and have visited the Bend pub with the aforementioned bestie, just before her wedding a couple of years back. So, I have fond personal memories of the place, and I like them. They also make a number of great beers.

The seasonal release I found this week is called Project FAILED: Red Ale.

I've always loved their beer, so the label sucked me in and I had to try whatever they considered their "failure", yet still released for public consumption. We don't roll with bad beer. So I knew that it was not, in fact, bad beer.

And it wasn't! Not at all!

Here's the additional statement on the side of the bottle:
"Just to be clear, we completely failed on this project. We tried to do something mind-blowingly awesome but just couldn't pull it off. So instead we settled with a gold medal winning Red Ale. Lesson learned? Probably not..."

This is marketing genius. For a fan, it's going to be intriguing. For someone who has never experienced 10 Barrel beer, it's at least going to draw the eye and possibly get a chuckle. It's both cocky and self-deprecating. And promises more in the future.

What they're really saying is that they're risk takers, pleased to bring their originality and creativity to their unique product. This label will help 10 Barrel catch eyes on the shelf. All important in the competitive world of Oregon craft brewing.

...and something that authors can learn from. I'm a terrible example when it comes to marketing (I basically don't do anything that isn't for fun, as I work on building my backlist), but paying attention to the marketing that works on me is probably a good start as I prep for the long game. :)

If you're ever in Bend, Oregon, check out their pub. They've also opened a Portland pub, which I didn't know and will have to check out myself. How 'bout a date, hubby? :)

Sunday Update: Good Writing Week!

I was on vacation last week, and it shows in my word count. :)

Monday through Wednesday I was at a little cabin up in the woods with my two daughters and our dog (poor hubby had to work. Like LOTS of work.). The girls and I hiked, had movie night, and just played around. It was a great break from being home, where even if you're a homebody, sometimes you get tired of looking at all of the waiting chores. lol


Here's a picture of what I could swear was a druid stone or altar of some sort in the middle of the forest. It's likely just a big rock, but it made my imagination go wild. Not surprising. A butterfly flitting by can make my imagination go wild. And speaking of butterflies, during the same hike, we scared up a mourning cloak butterfly, and it promptly landed on my forehead and took a little rest there for like five seconds. It felt like a blessing, and I took it as such. The kids were jealous. :)

Here's how my word counts added up this week, as I work on Shield, the fifth and final Children of the Sidhe novella:

Tuesday: 1,200
Wednesday: 1,000
Thursday: 800 on Shield, and another 900 on a short story
Friday: whopping 2,500!!!
Saturday: 600
...for a total of 7,000 if my coffee deprived brain is adding correctly. :)

I'm not sure what to think about this. For one, I'm taking a two-week break from work because I've been dealing with far too much stress (mostly work stress), and putting off the actual dealing for tomorrows that never come. So, my goal for this two weeks was to take the pressure off and not worry about goals. I haven't been pressuring myself to hold to any daily word count, but I've had pockets of time to putter with the story and ended up with 7,000 words in the week....because I wanted to write. I always want to write.

Still, that total isn't far above the weekly goal I've set for myself of 5,000 words per week. So does that mean that I'm putting too much pressure on myself with the 5k goal, when I'm usually working just about full-time in addition? I don't know, but something to ponder. I'm hoping to return to work with a healthier balance between work/parenting/writing/life...after one more week of vacation. :)

Next weekend, we're headed to my mom-in-law's in Bend, Oregon. Sunny skies and splendid vistas await! Who else has plans for the holiday weekend?