Silver Hollow by Jennifer Silverwood

Check out Jennifer Silverwood’s new adult fantasy, Silver Hollow.

Amie Wentworth writes paranormal romances, not because she is looking for a degree in ectoplasm, but because she’s got bills to pay. Ever since her parents’ car crash, she has trusted books more than people. Not even a letter from her long-lost uncle, begging her to visit, gives Amie incentive for anything other than ire – until she is stabbed in an alley and brought back to life by a mysterious stranger. Being a believer in the corporeal, she is determined to root out the logic behind the unexplained. Never mind the possibility she might be a part of it, or the fact her dearly departed dad left her with an inheritance she can’t return. To make matters worse, the man who saved her life keeps turning up and her would-be-murderer is still at large. Soon Amie is dragged into the very sort of tale she is used to selling. Silver Hollow is a place of ancient traditions and supernatural dangers, where everything is the opposite of what it seems and few escape sane. When she comes face to face with the ugly truth, will she too be sucked into her father’s madness? Or will she discover that madness is just another name for honesty?

Silver Hollow is available for Kindle and paperback from Amazon.

Excerpt

The hour before dawn found Amie pulling her car round the back alley. Through the gloom and decades-buried waste behind Pat’s Delights was a narrow strip leading to the back staircase leading up to her flat.

The stranger’s face came unbidden to her as she gathered her things and moved her weary legs. Black eyes set deeply in a shadow-drenched face haunted her, eyes which seemed to accuse and praise, sift and wonder. Now that she knew, she realized she must have seen him before today, maybe even in the past she had tried to forget.

The faded yellowing parchment marked with heavy black ink, with words too absurd to be true, flashed in her mind. Clutching the key hidden in her jeans pockets while digging through her purse for her keys, she remembered Uncle Henry’s letter. Mulling over the words, she once again recalled how angry she had been ten years ago after reading his first note. So what the cops were uncertain how the accident had happened. So what her father had known some powerful people. Amie had been primped and pushed into the upper-class social sphere through her teens and knew how to handle that sort. She could take care of herself just like she always had. She would tear up the letters and the tickets tonight. The twins and James were her family now.

As she placed her shoe upon the first rickety metal step, two thick and powerful hands grabbed her in the same moment.

It happened so quickly she forgot to scream. Dropping her purse she struggled, kicked and bucked against the crazy person lifting her and pulling her deeper into the shadows of the alley. And the harder she struggled the tighter his choking embrace became against her chest.

She thought at last to cry out, only to feel her face being smashed against a brick wall. She gasped as the figure suddenly pushed her aside, out of his embrace. Amie stumbled back and nearly tripping over a metal pipe. She righted herself only to come face-to-face with the black-masked figure. His brilliant blue eyes blazed into hers, now filled with unmistakable purpose. Too late she realized his intentions as a sickeningly cool object was plunged into her chest and pulled quickly out again.

Her vision swam, then blurred as she slumped against the trash-littered concrete. Her mind began to fade into an ever-deepening sleep though her eyes watched on. The black-garbed man was fighting someone else. Unmasked, this guy was taller, broader in the shoulders than her murderer and wrought by fury.

Pain…she had not known the meaning of the word before now and even this too was fading into the deep sleep. The further she fell the less sense the scene before her made. Her mind didn’t believe that the tall man had really tossed her attacker five feet into the air over his shoulder and into the brick, or a strange light and energy crackled in the suddenly luminous alley.

She was too afraid to hope when a pair of warm hands cradled her in a firm embrace. He pulled her from the muck and fixed his dark eyes on her. Obsidian-cut eyes, familiar eyes, pierced through her gaze and reached deeper. His face, once so indiscernible it could be called plain, was now twisted as though in agony. Even though she was slipping, falling into a calm quiet darkness, he refused to let her go. His hand moved from her neck to her cheek with the faintest touch. He pushed past and clasped hold of something tearing deep inside of her then. The black of his irises gave way to a strange mix of blue and green flecks gleaming in their depths. She saw…

Fields of brilliant emerald grass and a sun filled with more colors than she knew to name.

Darkness and a dirty cell, where heavy fists punctuated his pain.

Time beyond counting became a lifetime lost.

A green-eyed dark-haired beauty bathed in sunlight stretched out her hand to him.

Someone was screaming. Amie frowned as the woman’s cries grew louder. Pain spiked up in her chest as her lungs constricted and her heart was ripped apart then reformed. The woman’s screams died when she took a breath and realized the voice was hers.

She blinked.

And then she was lying within the narrow strip between two brick buildings, alone.

 

To read the rest of the story, buy Silver Hollow from Amazon.

Find more from Jennifer on her website, blog, Facebook, and Twitter.

My Immortal Playlist by Julius St. Clair

If you like paranormal romance, check out My Immortal Playlist from Julius St. Clair. 

Alexandra Cain is cursed.

She’s unpopular, a little lonely, and all of her boyfriends have this nasty habit of dying and then coming back to haunt her in unimaginable ways.

It’s not easy being a Siren in high school. A femme fatale whose first instinct is to enchant a man and have him for dinner, instead of being asked out to it. Burdened by her nature, it doesn’t seem like she’ll ever find the romance and passion she’s been looking for.

Until Lucas Hawthorne arrives.

He’s gorgeous. He’s mysterious. And he’s so dangerous that even she knows she should stay away.

But there’s something about him that keeps her digging deeper into his past, and following him into situations that keep getting worse and worse. She just can’t break his hold over her, and soon she has no choice but to ask herself a terrifying question: Who cast the spell over whom?

Download My Immortal Playlist from Amazon.

Excerpt

“I should’ve stayed home,” I sighed under my breath.

“You didn’t put up much of a fight,” she said, her blue mascara strangely accenting her vibrant green eyes. What was with this new fad of mixing strange colors together?

“Yeah,” I said. “But that’s only because someone told me this movie was different. It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be at all.”

“Okay, and what were you expecting? A horror movie?”

“Exactly. I mean c’mon, the movie is called Zombie Kisses. How do zombies kiss?”

“Like everyone else.”

“Well, it didn’t look appealing.”

“You’re not supposed to like horror movies anyways,” she huffed.

“And why is that?” I scoffed, sitting up in my seat quickly. Margaret flashed an award winning smile and made her voice all cutesy.

“Because you’re a woman,” she said. “You’re not supposed to like horror movies.”

“Ugh,” I groaned again, closing my eyes and turning around to see our fellow moviegoers leave in frustration and disappointment.

“I’m serious. If we’re ever going to graduate high school and snag a husband, we can’t give off the image that we’re into blood and gore and all those unattractive things.”

“Not like horror movies…snag a husband…what is this? The 50’s? Seriously, Margaret, you’re being unrealistic. And a little bit of a hypocrite. Do you seriously think that just because this movie is classified as a romance, it means you’re not into the supernatural? Think about it. A girl gets tired of her marriage with a vampire and decides to fall for a zombie! Who, I might add, tries to eat her shoulder when they’re making out! Listen, I don’t care if Malcolm Maximus looked nothing like a zombie. Yes, he was as gorgeous as always, but the concept is still gross and creepy.”

“This is completely different and you know it! There was no gore or violence whatsoever!”

“Yeah, but it’s a girl and a zombie…”

“Which if you ask me, didn’t look so bad.”

Silence filled the theater and I realized her face was not giving off its usual amused glow.

“You’re serious,” I said.

“Dead serious.”

“Okay, that’s not funny…I think I’m going to be sick.”

“What do you want to me say, Alexandra? I love these types of movies, but I still think it’s improper to engage in viewing gory flicks like that stupid torture one that’s making all the headlines these days.”

“Oh, you mean Screwdriver VIII.”

“Yes. Absolutely disgusting.”

“It’s classic horror. A carpenter teams up with a mechanic on this one. Double the screwdrivers. Double the terror. Double the fun.” I really wasn’t fond of horror movies, but I was willing to say anything to get under Margaret’s skin.

“Are you like doing a commercial for them or something? You sound way too excited.”

“Um,” a voice interrupted our conversation from below. We looked down to see a pimply faced, red-haired attendant brushing some nachos under a chair in row six. “The movie’s over. I gotta clean up the aisles before the next showing starts.”

“Sorry about that!” I called down as we awkwardly retrieved our purses and jackets in one swoop.

“So…he was cute, wasn’t he?”

“Not really,” I muttered, trying to attempt damage control. “His face was so greasy I could see myself in his forehead.”

“Isn’t that your type?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to drown out my annoyance by taking loud footsteps on the parking lot asphalt.

“Well, you went out with that Elliot kid, and that was after he changed over the summer, I might add.”

“Well,” I muttered, unsure of what to say. I kept my head down in shame as we walked, but then I miraculously remembered that we drove separately. I didn’t actually have to suffer through the whole conversation today. Maybe if I got to my car in time, I could change the subject. Make a comment about how rusty and old it was before Margaret had any follow up questions. But of course, it was Three Dollar Tuesday at the movies, which meant every high schooler with a half-beaten go-kart was in attendance, and my car suddenly blended in like a toenail in a bag of rice…don’t ask.

“He was so dreamy before,” she continued on. “I mean, I almost broke my own dating rule and asked him out, but you know, a lady has to have standards. After his…um, makeover…he didn’t appeal to me as much.”

“You wouldn’t have liked him,” I muttered, before I realized what I was saying. I was such an idiot sometimes. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

“Oh? And why is that? Did you two…”

“Ew. No,” I shuddered, “and I’m surprised a woman of your class would ask such a thing.”

“Some things transcend class.”

“Apparently,” I said, fumbling with my car keys. Why couldn’t it have one of those convenient beepers that let you know where your car was located? I would be spamming it like an elevator button.

“So tell me about you two. I know you went out for at least a month last summer. What was it about him that attracted you?”

“To be honest? He was a little obsessive. Kept hounding me for a date.”

“Oh? Do tell!” Margaret said excitedly as she grabbed my arm and made me face her. I guess the search for the missing rust bucket was at a halt for now.

“All he wanted to do was touch me…or grab me,” I said, smiling like a maniac. “And he liked the taste of my flesh.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Margaret backed away, wrinkling her face. “Why do you have to put it like that?”

“It’s true though, and it started getting crazier too. He would chase me around the neighborhood, roaring away as he picked at his face, peeling off dead skin like he had gotten the worst sunburn imaginable, yelling how he wanted to lick my sweat…”

“Stop! Just stop!” Margaret shrieked, stamping her feet to the pavement. “That’s just disgusting! And you know how I can’t stand it when you’re being gross! Just…just see me at lunch tomorrow!”

And with that, my best and only human friend ran away like I had been infected with a plague. I didn’t get why she was so upset. I thought she liked zombies.

Oh well, people just liked dreaming. They never thought about how unromantic it was in reality. Deep down, they didn’t really want to be a part of that paranormal world…

And I would know.

After all, I was living in it.

 

 

To read the rest of My Immortal Playlist, download it from Amazon.

To find more from Julius, visit his blog, Facebook and Twitter.

Lex Talionis by R.S.A. Garcia

I’m so excited to introduce you to the debut novel from R.S.A. Garcia. We are in a writing group together and I’m so thrilled for her first novel, Lex Talionis, a science fiction mystery. I have an interview with her below, as well as all the details on Lex Talionis.

1. What is your favorite place to write? 

If I had my way, I’d write where I had a view through a picture window to water, mountains or trees. However, my computer is in the spare bedroom in my house, so I go there. It’s got the advantage of being quiet, so it’s my favorite place.

2. Tell us a little about your writing process.

I’m a dedicated pantser. I go in knowing the beginning and the end and a bit about the middle, but I don’t like writing scenes out of order. I get inspired by kernels of ideas and usually bury them deep. They can take months or even years to germinate a story. Once that story idea has reached a point where I have to sit down and tap away at the keys, I’ll generally keep going until it’s done.

I don’t usually write more than one book at time, but I’ve recently developed that skill out of necessity. I’ve also realised it might be a good idea to start doing plot outlines and keeping lots of notes rather than storing the entire book in my head and flipping back over the text when I need to remember a small detail, like the colour of someone’s eyes. LEX TALIONIS was written this way, but I’m looking to try different methods. I’m exploring Scrivener at the moment.

3. If you could be any fictional character, who would you be?

That’s a huge question! Why do I have to pick one? I’ve never been able to narrow down anything I love to just one favourite. So for now, I’ll just say there was a time I wanted nothing more than to be the captain of the Enterprise, or Xena, or Buffy. But deep down I think I just want to be Spock.

Or the woman that ends up with Shane Gooseman of the Galaxy Rangers.

What? A girl can dream.

4. What is the best writing advice you’ve been given?

You have five senses. The more you use them to build a scene, and by extension your story, the stronger your writing will be. Lots of writers–myself included–have vivid imaginations and a great love of film. This leads us to write amazing visuals, but your writing can’t immerse the reader until you can make them smell, taste and touch the world you’re introducing them to, as well as see and hear it.

About Lex Talionis

A battered young woman wakes from a coma in a space port hospital with no memories of her past. The only thing she remembers are two words: Lex Talionis—the Law of Revenge. To discover her identity, she must re-live the nightmares of her past, and face the only survivor of a terrible massacre that connects her with her abductors.

You can download Lex Talionis in all formats from Dragonwell Publishing. You can purchase the paperback from Amazon, with the ebook joining it on May 30.

 

Excerpt

Death is the breath between one Life and the Next.
—  Message of the Will, Book of the Seven Holies, Ancient Dak Scripture

I

Death came for Michael while he slept.

He woke, gasping and trembling, from a dream of being pushed out the airlock. His fingers were cold and numb; the weight of his head on his arm had cut off his circulation. Michael sat up, wiping sweaty strands of hair off his forehead. Shifting his feet out from under him, he cursed as pain lanced up his leg.

Shit. I fell asleep. I can’t sleep. How long was I out?

Michael crawled along the vent to the grille that covered its entrance, stopping once to catch his breath. Despite having dozed, he was exhausted and cold. The air in the vent left a metallic taste in his dry mouth and he couldn’t stop shaking. The wound in his leg, which he’d bandaged with cloth ripped from his pants, made a white-hot line down his shin.

God, it hurts. If I don’t find some meds soon…

He had to figure a way out before he was incapable of going on, or lost consciousness again–maybe for good. Michael pulled himself onto his knees, inching his way toward the harsh light that shone through the grille. Dust motes danced in the path of square patches of illumination.

Then he heard it.

Faint, a mere whisper: the brief sound of air being expelled from lungs. And it came from outside, from the corridor below the vent. Despite the fact that he was freezing, sweat broke out all over his body.

Fuck. Oh, fuck no. Please, no.

Michael strained to hear, ignoring the pain in his wounded leg, which had become twisted beneath him. There was nothing but the impossibly loud sound of his own breathing. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. He blinked as sweat dripped into his eyes.

Still nothing.

Heart tripping, he decided he must have imagined it all. He began to shift his weight in a careful movement.

Tap, tap, tap.

All the air left his lungs. The grille wavered and darkened before his eyes.

Tap…tap…tap.

The sound came from right below him, on the wall just under his hiding place.

Tap, tap, tap.

He recognized the rhythm. It had been centuries since anyone had used it on a military vessel, but everyone had studied the same vids in their naval history holobooks during basic training.

Three short, three long, three short. SOS. Save Our Souls. A cruel jibe. The only soul left to save was his, and the very thing he tried to escape stood right outside, mocking him with the ancient distress signal none of them, least of all him, would ever be able to send.

The tapping stopped. Michael stared at the opening in front of him, seeing the grille being yanked off like paper as if it were already happening, seeing the light falling fully into the narrow vent, revealing him where he crouched, helpless and too terrified to move.

Not that he would be able to escape even if he could.

The silence pushed at his ears. The grille in front of him continued to filter the light into shapes on the inside of the vent. He waited, certain he was a dead man; wanting it to be over now, because he was tired, so very tired.

Eventually, it dawned on him that it had been silent too long. It took a few more minutes before he worked up enough courage to make his way to the front of the vent and look down to see the empty corridor stretching out on either side.

After he opened the grille and slid down from his hiding place, his legs gave way below him and he crumpled to the floor.

I’m still alive. I’m still alive.

But not for long if he just sat there. He had to find medication. That meant Med Bay–and the bridge.

He shuddered, his mind shying away from the endless corridors that waited for him, lights flickering while darkness edged their walls.

Don’t think. Just go. Go now.

Leaning on the wall, Michael pushed himself to his feet. He started limping down the corridor, slow at first, and then faster. The way to the bridge would be long and dangerous, and if he was right, he had very little time to get there.

II

Desmond Obuki was not particularly kind or generous. He gave to charity for the tax breaks and avoided fund-raisers like the plagues they were usually trying to eradicate. He was a businessman, not a meal ticket. But he was also something else.  

Human.

And if the shoe on the unmoving foot he had spotted told him anything, it was that the Elutheran had a human down on the ground. It kept lashing out viciously, its muscular proboscis waving between its short, sharp beak as it chirped away to itself. The feathered red ball of its body rippled every now and again, as if caught in a stiff breeze. It was at least knee-high; definitely an adult.

After that, he couldn’t very well walk away. The warren of alleys surrounding Bradley was dangerous.  Not so much for a former soldier like himself, but even he wouldn’t be here now if he wasn’t trying to beat the clock.

He had no idea how the Elutheran had managed to overpower the human, but a mudsucker couldn’t be up to any good in an area like this one. The guy had probably fallen asleep drunk in the gutter, and the Elutheran must have come across him. Humans were few and far between in this part of PortCity; the least he could do was drive off the little mudsucker and help the poor bastard up out of the gutter.

He didn’t need to check the dim street for friends of the alien. The alley finished in a dead-end beyond the spot where the Elutheran had the human backed up against the building. The smooth seventy-foot walls of the ore factories on either side offered no hiding places.

“Hey! Get the fuck off him!”

The Elutheran panicked. It sucked its feeding tube back into its head, rolled across the narrow alley, bounced along the lower edge of the wall and shot past Obuki before the man could grab hold of it. Shrugging his shoulders, Obuki walked over to the gutter and bent over the shape clad in a dark jumpsuit and a pair of spacer’s boots. There was a faint smell in the air–like rust.

“Hey, you, wake up. This is no place to sleep off…”

He rolled the body over and sucked in his breath.

His hands were wet.  He looked at them and it dawned on him that the top half of the jumpsuit was not red. It only looked that way because of the blood.

“Oh, shit.”

He’d lost his comm panel on the flight back. Hadn’t thought much of it at the time as he had a replacement at the office, but that wouldn’t help him contact the police now.

He looked at the battered face again and sighed. It had to be a woman. And she was still breathing.

Well, he thought, no good deed goes unpunished. He would be late for sure now. Grumbling under his breath, he picked up the unconscious woman and strode out of the alleyway.

 

You can download Lex Talionis in all formats from Dragonwell Publishing. You can purchase the paperback from Amazon, with the ebook joining it on May 30.

Find more from R.S.A. Garcia on her blog, Twitter and Facebook.

Displaced by J.F. Jenkins

I’m excited to feature the RONE Award-nominated Displaced by J.F. Jenkins.

Chevelle Donahue thought going into work would be just like any other boring day at the mall. Sure, there was her annoying co-worker Wicken Sanders, and a promotional visit from teen heartthrob Timber Hudson, to watch and keep her entertained. But who was she kidding? Working retail was lame no matter what happened. 

A terrorist attack changes everything – an attack from aliens of all things. The patrons are given two options: comply or else. Complying means giving in to a new set of rules and changing her entire life. “Or else” means she has no chance of going home again.

She must figure out the truth behind why the aliens are holding everyone hostage. In doing so, she risks her chance at freedom – but by the time she learns what’s really happening, she might not want it.

Download Displaced on Amazon.

Excerpt

I looked between the two guys standing between me and the doorway, wishing I could read their minds. They were both so quiet and I hated it. Earlier they each had rather strong opinions of what to think. Now there was nothing? Did I have to make the decision for all of us? I wasn’t sure if I could handle that kind of pressure, let alone live with the consequences.

But I wasn’t left with much of a choice.

“I guess we turn ourselves over,” I said quietly, my face half-buried into the large hippo’s synthetic gray fur.

Timber nodded, his shoulders hunched up around him, and he rubbed his arms slowly. His gaze hardly ever left his phone. The light bouncing off his eyes revealed a glistening of tears. If that wasn’t the look of defeat, I don’t know what was. Wicken was the exact opposite image. He remained confident and poised, his gaze strong and determined. The only hint that he might have been afraid was the slight shaking of his hands.

He looked down at me. “You don’t know what they’re going to do to us.”

“I know what will happen if we don’t agree to their terms, though,” I said softly. “Escaping is futile, not following instructions sounds dangerous. I personally do not want to die.”

“And you’re assuming they won’t mass execute everyone or pick us off one by one until their demands are met,” he snapped. “I think I like my chances better with escaping.”

Timber held his phone over his watch. “We have twenty-five more minutes to decide. Ten if you want to include time to walk down to the main entrance. I’m personally going to go along with them. I’m with her.” He pointed at me. “I’m not ready to die yet.”

“Then I guess this is where we go our separate ways,” Wicken said. Again, he looked as if I had betrayed him or something. There was a sadness in his tone laced with anger. His gaze met mine and for a moment his strong composure faltered. “Last chance, Chevelle.”

I shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes. “I’ll never make it. I’ll slow you down. I’ll be the reason you can’t get away.”

His hazel eyes closed and he reached over to hug me. Then he whispered in my ear with a shaky voice, “I love you.”

My gaze met his and I didn’t know what to say in return. Part of me was wondering if I even heard him right or if I imagined him talking in the first place because the words had barely been audible. When the sadness in his frown increased, I knew he had actually said it. He pushed his way past us and toward the back door.

“Wicken,” I whimpered. “I…” Felt the same way? Loved him too? None of that seemed right, though my heart did have a special fondness for him that I didn’t understand. We’d gotten close enough through all of our time together.

He waited in the doorway, waiting for me to finish my thought.

“I…s-same. Please be careful so we can talk about this again.”

He flashed me a small smirk. “Of course.”

And then he was gone.

Timber gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Come on. If we’re going to do this, we should go now before we waste any more time.”

I nodded and stood, never letting go of the hippo. That thing was coming with me, I didn’t care how stupid I looked. The girl brought along her teddy bear, and the three of us made our way out of the door using the light of our phones to make sure we didn’t trip over anything. Timber dropped down to pick up his bag of purchases from earlier on our way to the gate – the gate which was now open. Outside were bright blue lights which reminded me a lot of tiki torches. They were tall and illuminated with electric light instead of fire.

We followed the lights to the escalators which were now nothing more than an ordinary staircase leading us to our potential doom. Timber took the lead and with his free hand he held onto the little girl who had been forced into our care. Every so often he’d look back at me and give me a small smile, as if that were his way of silently telling me he’d take care of me too.

At the bottom of the stairs was the main entrance. There were not as many people there as I originally thought there would be. Somewhere between fifty and seventy individuals of mixed ages sat on the floor under the glow of the blue lights. What disturbed me was how many of them were parentless children or teenagers. The next-well represented age group was twenty-something-year-old women, then a few middle-aged couples, and an even less number of elderly. How many men tried to get away? What had happened to the mass of teenage girls who had been here earlier? There wasn’t any blood, and the only signs of struggle were a few tipped-over plants. Did they escape, or at least try to?

The three of us found an open spot on the floor and sat down near a group of crying children who couldn’t have been any older than nine or ten.

“Do you think my mommy will be here?” The little girl asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe!” I wanted to be hopeful for her. Maybe that’s why all of the kids had decided to congregate at the entrance too. They were looking for their parents as well.

Timber reached into his bag and pulled out a bag of gummy bears. The guy was like a walking candy shop. I wondered what else he bought. He opened up the bag and waved a few of the other kids over.

When our gazes met, he shrugged. “It’ll keep them from panicking or going into shock.” He looked me over. “So you know who I am, but I don’t think I’ve caught your name.”

“Chevelle,” I said softly.

“Like the band.” He smiled.

“I doubt that’s what my parents were thinking, but yes, like the band.”

He nudged the girl. “And what’s your name?”

“Lara,” she said in between bites of gummies.

“Nice to meet you Lara, I’m Timber.” He kept his voice low.

It was hard to tell if she recognized him or not. She was a little young to be a part of his fan base. I pegged her at about six years old. Still, kids were smart and observant. If she knew who he was, she didn’t care. She did, however, lean in closer to him to snuggle in a little.

“Will you stay with me until my mommy comes back?” She asked.

“Of course.” He smiled and showed off his perfect teeth again. They glowed in the blue light, and it was more than a little amusing to see. Lara giggled, and the sound was music to my ears and contagious. Soon I was laughing as well, if not quietly. Sure, we both got a couple of strange looks from some of the people sitting around us, but I didn’t care too much. A small lift in the tension was nice.

Not like it lasted long, because eventually our half-hour deadline was up. I’d been praying silently that Wicken would change his mind and come with us after all. He never showed.

 

To read the rest of the story, download Displaced on Amazon.

To find more from J.F. Jenkins, visit her website, Twitter and Facebook.

Guest Post: Jenna Elizabeth Johnson’s The Reasons for Writing Ehriad

I’m excited to host another author in the Faery Realms bundle, Jenna Elizabeth Johnson. These are her reasons for writing Ehriad, her short story which you can download in the bundle.

EHRIAD

A Single Thread of Magic

Cade MacRoich is Ehríad, a faelah bounty hunter. When he is compelled to deal with a collection of particularly nasty monsters in the mortal world, he stumbles upon a stream of Faelorehn magic that leads him to something astonishing.

The Morrigan’s Game

The children of the Weald are protected by the forest’s ancient magic, but when the Morrigan’s faelah manage to break through that barrier, Cade’s sister calls upon him for help.

Broken Geis

Cade has tried in vain to forget about the alluring Meghan Elam. Unfortunately, the Morrigan’s interest in the young Faelorehn girl puts her in danger and makes Cade realize he is willing to risk everything to keep her safe.

Why did I choose to write a short story (which is truthfully a collection of three very short stories) that had already been covered in Faelorehn?  Well, I have three good reasons for doing so:

1. Faelorehn is told strictly from Meghan’s point of view, so my readers never get a good sense of what is going on in Cade’s mind, and let’s face it, he is rather intriguing.  I wrote Ehriad, in part, to delve into the mind of our Faelorehn hero.  At the start of the series, the only image we get of Cade is through Meghan’s eyes, and she’s a bit star-struck by the whole concept of Cade and what he has to tell her about her heritage.  There are so many unanswered questions and a whole lot of reluctance to trust Cade, so I felt, to be fair to him, I should tell at least part of his story.  Therefore, I picked three scenes from Faelorehn (well, technically one scene takes place primarily in the Otherworld) to help alleviate some of that mystery and to let (if not Meghan) the reader know that although Cade is aloof at times, he is so much more than a pretty face delivering shocking news.

2. The second reason I went about writing Ehriad was because I wanted to give a more richly detailed, in-depth view of the world I had created for Faelorehn.  In the first novel of the Otherworld Series, Meghan only barely enters the Otherworld, so the reader doesn’t get a good sense of what it’s all about.  Instead, they must rely on what Cade tells her (or, in most cases, neglects to tell her), and what she must find out on her own through research and unfortunate encounters with faelah.  With Ehriad, and especially with the story The Morrigan’s Game, the reader is transported to the Otherworld with Cade.  I also include Enorah, Cade’s sister, as one of the main participants in a quest to destroy some of the Morrigan’s monsters.  Enorah and Cade have a very close relationship and that doesn’t really get touched upon until Dolmarehn.  Both Enorah and Cade have suffered similar pasts and they bond over their mutual love for one another and the sacrifices they are willing to make for each other.  I don’t go into depth with this past in Ehriad, but I wanted to set the stage for future Otherworld books.

3. Lastly, a large part of my motive for writing Ehriad was for my readers.  Yes.  I wrote Ehriad, in part, for my readers.  Like many authors, I do look at reviews and feedback for my books.  One common complaint about Faelorehn was that there wasn’t enough about Cade, and I couldn’t agree more.  However, it wasn’t in my power to elaborate since Meghan is the one doing all the thinking and talking in the first book.  Therefore, I set about picking out scenes I thought my readers might enjoy seeing through Cade’s eyes.  After publishing Ehriad, I decided to go ahead and do the same for Dolmarehn.  In this case, I actually posted the question to my readers: What scenes from Dolmarehn would you like to hear from Cade’s perspective?  I had some great feedback and got to work on Ghalien.  In the end, Ghalien became a short novel with only two of the scenes my readers recommended.  I’m hoping, one day, to get to the others and then to scenes from Luathara as well.

Sometime in the future, I hope to write more from Cade’s perspective (dare I say a novel, or two, or three . . . ?).  With so many characters running around in my head, trying desperately to get my attention, it can sometimes be difficult to decide where to start.  Luckily, I have my Muse to help me get things in order.  Yes, the Otherworld and its many characters have definitely gotten under my skin and I can’t see myself shaking them any time soon.  So to answer the question I’ve been asked many a time over: Yes, the trilogy may be complete, but I am by no means finished with the Otherworld.

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Don’t Forget! Review Copies Are FREE

I just wanted to take a moment to remind you that review copies of my books are always free! If there’s a book of mine you’ve been wanting to try, just email my assistant, let her know which one and she will send you a copy. All I ask is that you leave a review of the book when you’re done. This does not have to be a 1,000-word essay on your blog, but can be as simple as a recommendation to your friends on Facebook or a quick sentence on Goodreads or Amazon. You can even review just Hood & Fae, my new novella which is currently only available in the Faery Realms bundle.

UPDATE: Hood & Fae is now on Amazon, available independently, as well as at other online retailers.