Some update things...
1. Shadowspire is coming in early 2017. This is book 3 of the Wytch Kings series, and sets the stage for the coming conflict with the Wytch Council. Shadowspire is Prince Jaire's story, and takes place about five years after Blackfrost. The cover is done, and it's as gorgeous as the rest of the series. I'll be sharing the cover art in December, along with an excerpt and a firm release date.
2. The Guardians of the Pattern series will wrap up in 2017, with the final installment, Closing the Circle. This is Cameron's story, and it looks like it's going to be the longest of the six novels. This is not the end for these characters, though. They are still talking to me (some of them never shut up--I'm looking at you, Luka), so I think it's safe to say there will be more. How much more? Possibly another series, but I haven't really mapped anything out yet. At the moment, it's all vague ideas and random scribblings.
3. Once Closing the Circle is out, I'll be turning my attention to Kingmakers. This M/M fantasy trilogy chronicles the adventures of Kerry McKinnon, a Minnesota boy who stumbles across the Veil Between Worlds and discovers the world of Aion. During the course of his adventures, Kerry learns to identify the business end of a sword, falls in love, and attempts to save the world. Kingmakers takes place a few years after Leythe Blade, and Jace, Sasha, and Eredwyn are all important secondary characters. I'm looking forward to seeing what they've been getting up to since Leythe Blade.
4. I also have a couple of F/F stories in the planning stages, and at least one those could see the light of day in 2018. The Plot Rat and I have much to discuss.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Sunday, September 4, 2016
Eye of the Storm is Live!
When Ajhani exile Vaya Rhivana saves the life of wealthy Federation playboy Nick Romani, he thinks he has all the bargaining power he needs to negotiate the return of his kidnapped clansmen. Falling in love with his hostage was never part of the plan, and in the end, Vaya’s choices could change the fate of his entire world.
Eye of the Storm, book 5 of the Guardians of the Pattern series, is now available at Amazon, All Romance, and Smashwords. It will be coming soon to other retailers.
Print will be coming soon, too. I'm hoping to have the entire series available in print before the end of the year.
Eye of the Storm, book 5 of the Guardians of the Pattern series, is now available at Amazon, All Romance, and Smashwords. It will be coming soon to other retailers.
Print will be coming soon, too. I'm hoping to have the entire series available in print before the end of the year.
Monday, August 8, 2016
Eye of the Storm Cover Art
Eye of the Storm (Guardians of the Pattern, Book 5) is in the final edit stages, and due to be released in early September. I just got the final cover art from Chinchbug, and here it is:
Book Description:
Wealthy playboy Nick Romani is a trouble-magnet. When the local news net obtains compromising pictures of him with a prominent politician’s married son, Nick’s exasperated father exiles him to a remote research facility until the scandal dies down. When Nick learns what kind of research he’s expected to do, he balks. Instead of obeying his father’s orders, he heads out alone into the wilderness.
Ajhani Guardian Vaya Rhivana has chosen exile over a slow death by the drug that binds his uncontrollable power over the mythe. Before Vaya finds the strength to leave his clan, his sister’s son is kidnapped by the Sky People. Heartbroken, but too weak and sick to help rescue his nephew, Vaya heads off into the mountains, not expecting to return.
When a storm dumps an injured Nick at Vaya’s feet, Vaya’s first thought is to kill him. Only a whisper of prophecy stays his hand. An uneasy bargain is struck, and as the two exiles journey through the dangerous wilderness, Vaya finds his feelings for Nick slowly changing. Can Vaya keep his promise to Nick and see the bargain through? Or will the power he struggles to control destroy both himself and the man he’s beginning to love?
Book Description:
Wealthy playboy Nick Romani is a trouble-magnet. When the local news net obtains compromising pictures of him with a prominent politician’s married son, Nick’s exasperated father exiles him to a remote research facility until the scandal dies down. When Nick learns what kind of research he’s expected to do, he balks. Instead of obeying his father’s orders, he heads out alone into the wilderness.
Ajhani Guardian Vaya Rhivana has chosen exile over a slow death by the drug that binds his uncontrollable power over the mythe. Before Vaya finds the strength to leave his clan, his sister’s son is kidnapped by the Sky People. Heartbroken, but too weak and sick to help rescue his nephew, Vaya heads off into the mountains, not expecting to return.
When a storm dumps an injured Nick at Vaya’s feet, Vaya’s first thought is to kill him. Only a whisper of prophecy stays his hand. An uneasy bargain is struck, and as the two exiles journey through the dangerous wilderness, Vaya finds his feelings for Nick slowly changing. Can Vaya keep his promise to Nick and see the bargain through? Or will the power he struggles to control destroy both himself and the man he’s beginning to love?
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Closing the Circle: WIP Excerpt
Closing the Circle is book six, the final chapter of the Guardians of the Pattern series. This one features Cameron and Draven, who first met in the free short story, Facing the Mirror.
The explosions weren’t nearly as loud as he’d hoped, which was a little disappointing, but the resulting fire was all the hell he could have wished for. From the shelter of the trees on a hill overlooking the place he’d worked so hard to return to, Draven watched golden tongues of flame stroke the dark velvet sky.
There would be screaming, oh, God, let there be screaming…
Too bad he was too far away to hear it.
Didn’t matter. Those whose screams he’d most appreciate were no longer capable of screaming. DeMira wasn’t. Neither was Vorzana. They’d both drunk too deeply of the drugged wine at dinner.
The flames warped and blurred. Draven blinked as hot tears slipped down his cheeks. The games here hadn’t been all bad. There’d been a few good ones. Only a few, though, not enough to balance. The pain on this side weighed so much more than the sense of home on the other.
He wouldn’t name it revenge, because it wasn’t.
It was balance.
This single act flattened out all the spiky, jagged pieces that had been irritating him for the past few weeks. Everything was smooth and calm now, no ripples, no waves, no shards of glass floating just below the surface, waiting to slice his flesh if he moved the wrong way or thought the wrong way.
He could rest now. Maybe even sleep.
The song of fear and pain that had been threading through his awareness for the last hour finally became loud enough to intrude, causing little ripples to shiver across the smooth surface of his mind. The smooth surface he’d only just managed to create.
Annoying.
Draven reached into his pocket to pull free a needlepak of riptide. He slapped it against his arm and closed his eyes, waiting for the rush, waiting for silence, waiting for peace.
He should probably be worried about the fact that it took twice as many needlepaks a day to quiet the voices as it had when he’d first returned to Alpha. He wasn’t.
Turning his back on the blaze, he walked deeper into the forest until the drug turned his legs to rubber and his mind to liquid. He staggered to a stop and leaned against a tree trunk, helpless to stop himself from sliding down to the ground as his legs gave way.
The last conscious thought he had was a voice whispering, Aurora. Institute for Psionic Research. You can find me there if you ever need help. Or a place to hide.
Cameron’s voice.
In drug-laced dreams, Draven reached for that voice as if it were a lifeline.
The explosions weren’t nearly as loud as he’d hoped, which was a little disappointing, but the resulting fire was all the hell he could have wished for. From the shelter of the trees on a hill overlooking the place he’d worked so hard to return to, Draven watched golden tongues of flame stroke the dark velvet sky.
There would be screaming, oh, God, let there be screaming…
Too bad he was too far away to hear it.
Didn’t matter. Those whose screams he’d most appreciate were no longer capable of screaming. DeMira wasn’t. Neither was Vorzana. They’d both drunk too deeply of the drugged wine at dinner.
The flames warped and blurred. Draven blinked as hot tears slipped down his cheeks. The games here hadn’t been all bad. There’d been a few good ones. Only a few, though, not enough to balance. The pain on this side weighed so much more than the sense of home on the other.
He wouldn’t name it revenge, because it wasn’t.
It was balance.
This single act flattened out all the spiky, jagged pieces that had been irritating him for the past few weeks. Everything was smooth and calm now, no ripples, no waves, no shards of glass floating just below the surface, waiting to slice his flesh if he moved the wrong way or thought the wrong way.
He could rest now. Maybe even sleep.
The song of fear and pain that had been threading through his awareness for the last hour finally became loud enough to intrude, causing little ripples to shiver across the smooth surface of his mind. The smooth surface he’d only just managed to create.
Annoying.
Draven reached into his pocket to pull free a needlepak of riptide. He slapped it against his arm and closed his eyes, waiting for the rush, waiting for silence, waiting for peace.
He should probably be worried about the fact that it took twice as many needlepaks a day to quiet the voices as it had when he’d first returned to Alpha. He wasn’t.
Turning his back on the blaze, he walked deeper into the forest until the drug turned his legs to rubber and his mind to liquid. He staggered to a stop and leaned against a tree trunk, helpless to stop himself from sliding down to the ground as his legs gave way.
The last conscious thought he had was a voice whispering, Aurora. Institute for Psionic Research. You can find me there if you ever need help. Or a place to hide.
Cameron’s voice.
In drug-laced dreams, Draven reached for that voice as if it were a lifeline.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Blackfrost is Live!
Today, I'm over at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for the release of Blackfrost, the sequel to Burn the Sky. There's an excerpt, a giveaway of Leythe Blade, and if you'd like to read BJ's awesome review, you can find it here
Blackfrost is Book 2 in my Wytch Kings series, which chronicles the events leading up to the earliest conflicts of the Wytch War. It features Kian, who was an important secondary character in Burn the Sky, and Ambris, an exiled prince of the kingdom of Miraen.
Book Description:
Son of a simple blacksmith, Apprentice Wytch Kian has always known that once his apprenticeship is over, he’ll be sent far from home to serve the Wytch Council. Before his training is even complete, Wytch Master Taretha orders him to Blackfrost, an isolated country estate, where he is to serve as personal healer to Prince Ambris of Miraen.
Nothing at Blackfrost is as Kian expects, and every day brings new questions. Like why is Prince Ambris being kept prisoner in his attic bedroom? Where does Wytch Master Taretha take him every fortnight? And why does the prince return from these excursions suffering from horrific injuries that Kian is expected to heal?
Kian quickly learns that seeking answers to these questions could cost him his life. Worse, he soon finds himself struggling with his growing feelings for Ambris, putting him at odds with both Wytch Master Taretha and the sadistic guard captain, Malik. Can Kian unravel the mystery in time to save Ambris? Or will the prince finally succumb to madness and destroy Blackfrost and everyone in it?
Blackfrost is currently available at All Romance, Amazon, Apple, Kobo, and Smashwords, and will be coming to other retailers very soon. There's also a print version in the works, but it'll be a few weeks before that goes live.
Blackfrost is Book 2 in my Wytch Kings series, which chronicles the events leading up to the earliest conflicts of the Wytch War. It features Kian, who was an important secondary character in Burn the Sky, and Ambris, an exiled prince of the kingdom of Miraen.
Book Description:
Son of a simple blacksmith, Apprentice Wytch Kian has always known that once his apprenticeship is over, he’ll be sent far from home to serve the Wytch Council. Before his training is even complete, Wytch Master Taretha orders him to Blackfrost, an isolated country estate, where he is to serve as personal healer to Prince Ambris of Miraen.
Nothing at Blackfrost is as Kian expects, and every day brings new questions. Like why is Prince Ambris being kept prisoner in his attic bedroom? Where does Wytch Master Taretha take him every fortnight? And why does the prince return from these excursions suffering from horrific injuries that Kian is expected to heal?
Kian quickly learns that seeking answers to these questions could cost him his life. Worse, he soon finds himself struggling with his growing feelings for Ambris, putting him at odds with both Wytch Master Taretha and the sadistic guard captain, Malik. Can Kian unravel the mystery in time to save Ambris? Or will the prince finally succumb to madness and destroy Blackfrost and everyone in it?
Blackfrost is currently available at All Romance, Amazon, Apple, Kobo, and Smashwords, and will be coming to other retailers very soon. There's also a print version in the works, but it'll be a few weeks before that goes live.
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Blackfrost: Cover Reveal and Excerpt
Today I'm over at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for the cover reveal for Blackfrost. There's an exclusive excerpt and a look at the fantastic cover done by Chinchbug. Blackfrost is the sequel to Burn the Sky, and is Book 2 in the Wytch Kings series. It will be available on May 3, 2016.
Book Description:
Son of a simple blacksmith, Apprentice Wytch Kian has always known that once his apprenticeship is over, he’ll be sent far from home to serve the Wytch Council. Before his training is even complete, Wytch Master Taretha orders him to Blackfrost, an isolated country estate, where he is to serve as personal healer to Prince Ambris of Miraen.
Nothing in Kian’s experience has prepared him for what he finds at Blackfrost, and every day brings new questions. Like why is Prince Ambris being kept prisoner at Blackfrost? Where does Wytch Master Taretha take him every fortnight? And why does the prince return from these excursions suffering from horrific injuries that Kian is expected to heal?
Kian quickly learns that seeking answers to these questions could cost him his life. Worse, he soon finds himself struggling with his growing feelings for Ambris, putting him at odds with both Wytch Master Taretha and the sadistic guard captain, Malik. Can Kian unravel the mystery in time to save Ambris? Or will the prince finally succumb to madness and destroy Blackfrost and everyone in it?
Book Description:
Son of a simple blacksmith, Apprentice Wytch Kian has always known that once his apprenticeship is over, he’ll be sent far from home to serve the Wytch Council. Before his training is even complete, Wytch Master Taretha orders him to Blackfrost, an isolated country estate, where he is to serve as personal healer to Prince Ambris of Miraen.
Nothing in Kian’s experience has prepared him for what he finds at Blackfrost, and every day brings new questions. Like why is Prince Ambris being kept prisoner at Blackfrost? Where does Wytch Master Taretha take him every fortnight? And why does the prince return from these excursions suffering from horrific injuries that Kian is expected to heal?
Kian quickly learns that seeking answers to these questions could cost him his life. Worse, he soon finds himself struggling with his growing feelings for Ambris, putting him at odds with both Wytch Master Taretha and the sadistic guard captain, Malik. Can Kian unravel the mystery in time to save Ambris? Or will the prince finally succumb to madness and destroy Blackfrost and everyone in it?
Monday, March 28, 2016
Eye of the Storm: WIP Excerpt
Eye of the Storm, book 5 in the Guardians of the Pattern series, is in the hands of my trusty beta team. This one will be out later this year, maybe around the end of the summer, and is about the adventures of Vaya Rhivana and Nick Romani. Here's a taste to keep you going until then...
Nick woke with a clear head and no fever. The first thing he was aware of was that he was no longer bound. The native man must have decided he wasn’t much of a threat, and as he stretched and tried to roll over, Nick decided that was probably a fair assessment. He felt weak and shaky, and wasn’t sure his legs would hold him.
He had dim memories of alternately burning and freezing, a horrible, pounding headache, and odd fever dreams. More clearly, he remembered the native man holding him down and forcing him to swallow vile-tasting potions.
Nick glanced about the cave. His bladder was urging him to get up, but he wasn’t certain he could manage by himself. He caught sight of the native man tending the fire. Beyond him, light filled the cavern entrance, though Nick couldn’t tell if it was morning or afternoon light.
“Can you help me?” he called across the cave. He thought he remembered the man speaking to him in Federation Standard, though that seemed unlikely. Perhaps it had just been a fever dream. “I need to get outside.”
The man got to his feet and moved to Nick’s side. He helped him stand, then slung one of Nick’s arms over his shoulders and waited patiently while Nick found his feet.
When they started moving slowly toward the mouth of the cave, Nick was surprised at how heavily he had to lean on his companion. By the time they made it outside, he was panting and sweating.
“Can we stop? Just for a second?”
The man stopped, and Nick let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t hallucinated it—the man did understand him.
“You can talk to me, you know,” Nick said as he leaned against the rock wall outside the cave. “I understood you just fine before.”
Jet black eyes flicked over him and then darted away. “There is nothing to talk about,” the man muttered.
“You might not have anything to talk about, but I have some questions. Like what’s your name? I told you mine… at least I think I did. I’m Nick, in case I didn’t. But I don’t know what to call you. Unless you’re partial to hey, you?”
“I don’t share my name with my enemies.”
“I’m not your enemy,” Nick said softly.
The feral, angry look in the eyes that reluctantly met his said otherwise.
“You shared a bed with me,” Nick pointed out. “Every time I woke up, you were right there next to me. Would an enemy do that?”
“He might if he had reason to keep you alive,” was the flat reply.
Nick frowned, not sure what to say to that, so he settled for, “Thank you. For saving me.”
The man’s eyes met his again—still wary, still hostile—and then he gave Nick a brief nod. “You may call me Vaya.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Nick gave him a grin, turning on the Romani charm full blast. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vaya.”
Vaya pulled Nick’s arm across his shoulders again. “Enough talk. Enough rest, too.” He led Nick to the tree, and to his embarrassment, Nick needed his support just to stand there relieving himself.
When he’d finished, he rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face. He felt sweaty and dirty, and he desperately needed a shave. “I suppose a bath is out of the question,” he said as Vaya helped him back to the cave.
“Bath? As in wallow in a tub of hot water? A waste of time and wood to heat so much water. You can wash in the river when you feel stronger.”
Nick shuddered. “The river is cold.”
Vaya rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Nick figured he’d just scored negative points in whatever man-contest was going on here.
Inside, Vaya tucked Nick back up in the furs and said grudgingly, “I can heat some water for you. Not a big tub full, but enough for you to wash.”
Nick gave him a grateful smile. A wash down would have to do, though he’d have killed to be back in his own suite at Winford, sinking up to his neck in hot water and scrubbing away all traces of the sickness that clung to his body.
Vaya was as good as his word. He heated some water in a cooking pot, and when it was ready, helped Nick to the fire and steadied him while he washed himself.
When Nick got to his back, he was too stiff to reach behind him, so Vaya took the scrap of cloth and did it for him with surprisingly gentle hands. He helped Nick dry off as well, and then helped him back to the furs. After the trip outside and the wash, Nick was exhausted, but before he drifted off to sleep again, Vaya brought him a cup of water and helped him sit to drink it.
“When you wake, I’ll have some food ready,” he said as Nick lay back in the soft bedding.
“Thank you,” Nick murmured.
“Do not thank me,” Vaya said in a hard voice. “I am not doing this for you.”
Nick woke with a clear head and no fever. The first thing he was aware of was that he was no longer bound. The native man must have decided he wasn’t much of a threat, and as he stretched and tried to roll over, Nick decided that was probably a fair assessment. He felt weak and shaky, and wasn’t sure his legs would hold him.
He had dim memories of alternately burning and freezing, a horrible, pounding headache, and odd fever dreams. More clearly, he remembered the native man holding him down and forcing him to swallow vile-tasting potions.
Nick glanced about the cave. His bladder was urging him to get up, but he wasn’t certain he could manage by himself. He caught sight of the native man tending the fire. Beyond him, light filled the cavern entrance, though Nick couldn’t tell if it was morning or afternoon light.
“Can you help me?” he called across the cave. He thought he remembered the man speaking to him in Federation Standard, though that seemed unlikely. Perhaps it had just been a fever dream. “I need to get outside.”
The man got to his feet and moved to Nick’s side. He helped him stand, then slung one of Nick’s arms over his shoulders and waited patiently while Nick found his feet.
When they started moving slowly toward the mouth of the cave, Nick was surprised at how heavily he had to lean on his companion. By the time they made it outside, he was panting and sweating.
“Can we stop? Just for a second?”
The man stopped, and Nick let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t hallucinated it—the man did understand him.
“You can talk to me, you know,” Nick said as he leaned against the rock wall outside the cave. “I understood you just fine before.”
Jet black eyes flicked over him and then darted away. “There is nothing to talk about,” the man muttered.
“You might not have anything to talk about, but I have some questions. Like what’s your name? I told you mine… at least I think I did. I’m Nick, in case I didn’t. But I don’t know what to call you. Unless you’re partial to hey, you?”
“I don’t share my name with my enemies.”
“I’m not your enemy,” Nick said softly.
The feral, angry look in the eyes that reluctantly met his said otherwise.
“You shared a bed with me,” Nick pointed out. “Every time I woke up, you were right there next to me. Would an enemy do that?”
“He might if he had reason to keep you alive,” was the flat reply.
Nick frowned, not sure what to say to that, so he settled for, “Thank you. For saving me.”
The man’s eyes met his again—still wary, still hostile—and then he gave Nick a brief nod. “You may call me Vaya.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Nick gave him a grin, turning on the Romani charm full blast. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vaya.”
Vaya pulled Nick’s arm across his shoulders again. “Enough talk. Enough rest, too.” He led Nick to the tree, and to his embarrassment, Nick needed his support just to stand there relieving himself.
When he’d finished, he rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face. He felt sweaty and dirty, and he desperately needed a shave. “I suppose a bath is out of the question,” he said as Vaya helped him back to the cave.
“Bath? As in wallow in a tub of hot water? A waste of time and wood to heat so much water. You can wash in the river when you feel stronger.”
Nick shuddered. “The river is cold.”
Vaya rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Nick figured he’d just scored negative points in whatever man-contest was going on here.
Inside, Vaya tucked Nick back up in the furs and said grudgingly, “I can heat some water for you. Not a big tub full, but enough for you to wash.”
Nick gave him a grateful smile. A wash down would have to do, though he’d have killed to be back in his own suite at Winford, sinking up to his neck in hot water and scrubbing away all traces of the sickness that clung to his body.
Vaya was as good as his word. He heated some water in a cooking pot, and when it was ready, helped Nick to the fire and steadied him while he washed himself.
When Nick got to his back, he was too stiff to reach behind him, so Vaya took the scrap of cloth and did it for him with surprisingly gentle hands. He helped Nick dry off as well, and then helped him back to the furs. After the trip outside and the wash, Nick was exhausted, but before he drifted off to sleep again, Vaya brought him a cup of water and helped him sit to drink it.
“When you wake, I’ll have some food ready,” he said as Nick lay back in the soft bedding.
“Thank you,” Nick murmured.
“Do not thank me,” Vaya said in a hard voice. “I am not doing this for you.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)