Hell Of An Unlife - Excerpt

The end. A scene, a story, or in this case, a series. Hell of an Unlife releases today, the fourth and final title in the Devil Made Me series!

Moira's as spicy as ever, even while she's dealing with a glitch in processing, ensuring Jared remains by her side, or facing her old enemy Douglas. Do you think she's ready to take over Hell?

You can purchase an ebook copy on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, Kobo, or Google Play.

And a peek at the conclusion of Moira's story can be found below. Happy fiery reading!

❦

A buzz rattled my brain, indicating the beginning of my Welcomer shift. Time to escort unfortunate souls to the second floor of Hell. Joy.

I shimmied into my uniform – a skimpy, sexy devil number. Not my choice.

“Already?” Jared stretched out on my bed in all his naked glory. “We’re not done discussing our plan of attack, Moira.”

“You mean arguing about it.” I pointed my plastic pitchfork at him.

We disagreed on how to start our war with Pandora, the current devil. That wretched, amorphous cloud had tapped me to succeed her. And I was resolved to upend the status quo in Hell.

Each floor had its own aggravating and nonsensical rules. Like the innocents on the first, in limbo – trapped in an inky prison of darkness, alone, a sense of desolation filtered in to inspire terror and anguish. All because Pandora refused to babysit them. Oh, and because they had a greater potential to gain true emotions, like me.

Another matter that stuck in my craw was the whispering books in the libraries. Souls. People vanished into the pages when their existence became unbearable. A second death.

The rules, the nudging toward oblivion – it all stank. So I intended to transform this miserable unlife, and Jared insisted on riding shotgun.

I preferred to start the battle with a bang. Direct confrontation. Presenting my qualms to the devil, and declaring my intentions to subvert the damned policies. Screw calm and collected. I’d already drafted a script of accusations, peppered with plenty of curse words. Pandora pissed me off.

On the other hand, Jared thought we should act covertly. Slowly circumvent the rules, reshaping Hell floor by floor, right under the bitch’s nose. Then gauge her reaction.

My powers remained limited as a simple lackey, but I’d rescued a kid from limbo, delivering him to his psychic grandmother on the eighth. This had infuriated the typically amused devil, but she left Elliot with his Mami anyhow. Though she’d implied my actions would result in unforeseen consequences.

Yeah, yeah. A naive preschooler living among a bunch of scammers and swindlers made for an unpredictable situation. Elliot’s grandmother had a lot of pull on her floor, though.

But Pandora’s decision to leave the child alone had revealed her growing weakness. She likely declined to transport him back to the first because her abilities were waning. Her tenure was winding down, nearing its end.

Perfect timing for a direct attack. Of course Jared contended otherwise.

Thankfully our arguments lacked heat nowadays, unlike when we’d been alive. Death, gazing into mirrors that reflected our failings, and the constantly shifting lewd mural on the ceiling of the second-floor library had facilitated changes in both of us. A lengthy process, but his hands and lips no longer wandered, and I’d told my trust issues to take a hike.

The inexplicable surge of comfort I experienced often when near him helped. A lot. And he felt that same serenity, his first emotion when he’d awakened to his true senses.

See, most people in Hell had to wish to feel a specific way, albeit with a dulled edge, and they turned their emotions on and off like a light switch. Not us, though. We were unique. Just me initially.

And Pandora had no clue about his awakening. Well, as far as I knew.

Jared also got me going like no other. Our disagreements typically led to us tumbling into bed. Or when feeling spicy and daring, experimenting on the Harley in my office. And so we kept running in circles over the best way to approach the devil dilemma.

“Hey, I’d love to continue this conversation.” More like the pleasurable ending. “But I’m stuck with the stupid Welcomer shift.”

He slipped off the bed and dressed. “Your shift is only an excuse, and you know it.”

Well, shit, he’d just gotten serious. But he was right. I blamed the distraction of sex and my duties as a Welcomer. In truth, though, my stubbornness streak would have propelled me toward that head-on confrontation with Pandora, his discouragement be damned.

Yet I hesitated, unsure of my strategy. Working on a script, instead of simply voicing my indignation.

Maybe the devil would retire soon. And once promoted, I’d snap my fingers, creating a paradise.

If only it were that simple. No omniscience, omnipotence, or endless power. I also needed to learn the full scope of my future limitations from her before she disappeared.

“At least I’ve been visiting the floors and learning the different whacko rules.” Necessary, but another form of procrastination nonetheless.

Mastering teleporting from floor to floor had been a trial, but required since the elevator only traveled to and from the lobby. As far as I knew, I was the only person who’d mastered that trick, aside from Dick. I’d met with the Welcomers on all but the seventh.

That last I’d avoid as long as Pandora allowed. Another confrontation with Douglas, the psycho who’d accidentally been assigned to the second when I first arrived, was best left until never.

Jared stared at me, his eyebrows creeping toward his hairline. Better that than him rolling his eyes – I hated that habit of his.

Cornered. Time to stop sitting on my hands. I sighed. “Fine. We’ll try your way. After my shift, we can decide on what floor to target first.”

“Really?” His eyes widened, mouth parting. I rarely conceded, to anyone, even him. “Now you have me worried.”

“Enough.” I playfully whacked him in the arm with my pitchfork.

And then a yellow sticky note appeared on my nose. Huh.

“What the hell?” Jared had acquired my amusement for the fiery puns. We both snickered.

I plucked the note off my face and read it out loud. “Backup in processing. Escorting souls on hold until situation resolved. Remain on call for entire shift.”

“Weird.” He plopped on the edge of the bed. “Though you mentioned how slow it’s been lately.”

“Slow, yes. A complete stop, no.” I’d never met anyone in processing. What kind of people had the devil tasked to undertake that monumental assignment?

❦

Ready to inherit the devil’s throne? Hell, no.

In Hell, the flow of new souls from the lobby to their designated floors screeches to a grinding halt. And Pandora, the incorporeal cloud of a devil, tasks Moira to fix the glitch in processing.

Foraying into the bowels of blinking lights with her boyfriend Jared, the issue materializes into Adam, the lone person in charge of minding the servers. His sanity sliding into oblivion, he eyes Jared as his replacement. Turns out, Pandora has the same plan.

Now Moira faces a new problem -- freeing Jared from the confines of processing. Before she even attempts to break him out, though, the devil boots her to the seventh floor. The realm of psychopaths, including her creepy adversary Douglas, who eagerly awaits her arrival.

Hell's Bells - Excerpt

At long last, the third title in the Devil Made Me series is here. Hell's Bells continues Moira's story with a bit of holiday flare. And yeah, she's still balancing relationship issues as well as her imminent rise to the position of devil.

Peek into her unlife madness with the excerpt below. If you want to grab a copy, you can find the ebook for purchase at all major online retailers. Books2Read will show all retailer options, but here are a handful of direct links: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, and Google.

Oh, and next spring, be on the look out for the final installment of the Devil Made Me series, Hell Of An Unlife.

❦

I gripped the door handles, willing a different floor to manifest on the other side. Any but the second. Or the seventh. Best to avoid Douglas. Forever.

The millionth time was the charm?

Throwing the doors wide, a flurry of activity greeted me, more than typical for the floor of lust. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that this was indeed the second. “Crap.”

The huge common area was designed similar to a dorm. Large screen TV along one wall, the only allowed on our floor according to the inexplicable rules, and a kitchen on the opposite. Though the dead had no need to eat, many indulged in their favorite foods from life.

Anything to drive away the sense of emptiness, the lack of true emotions. A person only enjoyed items and activities they resolved to, and they turned it on and off like a light switch.

Except me. Ever since I’d arrived, I was an anomaly, longing stirring in my gut when my ex-boyfriend Jared was nearby. And occasionally contending with a comfort washing over me – a sensation I’d never experienced until my death.

Unique. That summed me up. Also the reason why Pandora had tapped me as her successor.

Actually, no longer a total aberration.

After I’d banished Dick, Jared and I admitted our love for each other. Emotions had overtaken him. A spark of life igniting in a realm where people sought to lose themselves when they could no longer bear to gaze at their reflections.

Now Jared was like me. No clue how or why, though. Not that I’d discussed it much with him.

And I refused to ask Pandora. Best she not know about it, anyhow. And if she already did, my lips were zipped unless she broached the subject. She kept too many secrets from me, so I’d keep a few of my own.

Screw her. And screw these crazy people on my floor.

An evergreen tree now towered in the corner near the bathroom – my hiding place of choice during my Welcomer shifts, since it was rarely used. Multicolored lights twinkled on the pine boughs, with half a dozen people adorning the branches with ornaments.

The sports freaks had been kicked off the TV, a shock in and of itself, and a holiday movie played on the screen. One of those romantic comedies, so trite that it proved nearly impossible to discern the difference between one or the other.

Sarah approached, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “We decided to celebrate the holidays. Liven the mood a little.” She beamed, her excitement contagious. Almost.

I had a love-hate relationship with Christmas. Pretty much a noncommittal pagan, I never attended church, sticking to the secular side of the holiday.

No issues with a sparkling Yule tree, but I preferred spiked eggnog and mistletoe. Made life interesting.

On the other hand, I hated that nog because once I sobered up, I wallowed in the horrible decisions I’d made while under its influence. Including hooking up with Jared after we’d split – a mistake resulting in a ton of yelling and broken furniture the following day.

You see, on Christmas Eve the previous year, I’d caught him in bed with a friend. They’d both blamed the booze.

Jared and I had a horrible track record during the holidays. And we were now together again in this insane afterlife.

Hard to fault Sarah’s desire for a distraction, though. She’d died young, still a teenager. “Well, happy holidays.” I forced a smile, but it felt as fake as it was.

“Hey, Moira.” Naveah, our newest Welcomer, emerged from one of the doors leading to the endless hallways and rooms. And no, the irony of her name was not lost on me. “The buzz vibrated my brain, so I’m it. Has it been busy?”

“Nah. Even slower.” And with her appearance, my shift ended. “Have fun.”

Now to find my boyfriend. More teleporting attempts tomorrow. At the moment, getting laid sounded far more appealing.

No sign of Jared among the crowd of decorators, which had multiplied, spreading to bedecking the ceiling and counters. Man, it would look like Christmas threw up in here once they finished.

I slipped through one of the many doors, intent on changing. Then I’d check his room, which was connected to mine unless we were arguing.

Giggles led me around a corner.

And there stood Jared, his back to me, and a woman in a bright blue bustier leaning toward him, mistletoe in her outstretched hand. He laughed, and turned his head enough for me to spot a lustful grin on his face.

“Hell, no.” The pun failed to amuse me as usual, anger grabbing hold.

I wished my plastic pitchfork was metal, but it remained in its current tacky form. One of those stupid rules on our floor. Pity, because I yearned to skewer Jared to the wall.

❦

Happy holidays... In Hell? Not with a cheating boyfriend.

The inhabitants of Hell’s second floor deck the common area for the holidays. Moira thinks them all crazy, though she enjoys a good cup of eggnog. Unfortunately, instead of drinking to her heart’s content, she discovers her boyfriend Jared in a compromising position with another woman and a sprig of mistletoe.

Moira’s anger whisks her off to the eighth, where she learns what Kara wants in return for helping her and Jared escape an angry mob of shysters a while back. To retrieve the woman’s grandson from limbo. Limbo, the first floor of Hell, where all the innocent souls land. Also the tamest floor, according to Pandora, the sexy-voiced cloud of a devil. But Kara insists it’s the opposite.

As the devil-in-training, Moira’s bound to the deal she made, and promises to rescue the child if the dismal rumor proves true. So she scopes out limbo, her definitely cheating boyfriend tagging along. Will she uncover a paradise in Hell, or finally stumble upon the brimstone?

One thing’s for sure. Between Moira’s relationship drama and sneaking around under Pandora’s nonexistent nose, she’s sure to have a terribly unhappy holiday.

Intricate Agony - Excerpt

It's release day for my next Fortunes of Fate title! Intricate Agony is the 8th story in the series. And this one takes place on Earth, though you'll see a handful of familiar faces from previous titles.

You can purchase a copy of the ebook on all major online retailers. Books2Read will direct you to your retailer of choice, but if you want direct links to the bigger stores, here you go: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google, and Apple. So, how does this story fit into the tapestry of Fate? An excerpt is below, but read the whole tale to find out!

❦

The shadow in the corner quivered, and familiar prickles of pain cascaded across Lucas’s skin. A yelp snagged in his throat. Don’t react, or I’ll never escape.

Dr. Kimberly glanced over her left shoulder, the end of her pen pressed against her bottom lip. “Do you see a creature in the corner?”

This psychiatrist had good intentions, hoping to ease his affliction. But like many others before her, she was failing.

His sole means of relief hid in a desk on the third floor of his house, not here in the Fortune Psychiatric Center. “No. Just the light filtering through the blinds.” Steady and calm voice, disguising the agony building inside him.

Mocking his lie, the shadow detached from the corner and oozed across the floor. It wound its way toward Dr. Kimberly’s chair, threatening to consume her in a single gulp.

Or at least that was how it appeared to Lucas. An empty threat, though. The monsters preferred to remain hallucinations, which was what his visions had been diagnosed as. They aimed to keep themselves secret to all but him.

A throbbing pulsed behind his eyes, then dripped down the back of his neck, heightening his misery. The professionals labeled this psychogenic pain. Various medications they’d prescribed him did nothing to dull it, though. Nor had physical therapy, changing his diet, or intense psychotherapy.

Well, Dr. Kimberly assumed that last one had worked. “Still no pain over these last couple weeks?”

The meditation techniques she’d taught him granted him the ability to conceal his torment. “None.” And his lying skills had improved while trapped in this facility – a tortuously long three months.

Yet he yearned to twist and turn, voicing his misery. As well as take a needle to his skin, adding to the intricate design on his chest. Appear cured, and they’ll release me.

When his father Lester Kline V had been alive, he hired the best therapists to help his son, but never admitted him into an institution.

A year ago, though, his dad had suffered a fatal heart attack while working late at the law firm. His assistant had found him in the morning, dead.

The shadow jumped and jittered, as if laughing at Lucas’s reflections. Heart attack in a healthy, fit forty-year-old? Yeah, right.

Lucas suspected the true, more sinister cause of death swirled around Dr. Kimberly’s feet. It taunted him, lighting up his nerves.

He’d never told a soul about his hunch. It would have simply turned into another item added to the list that proved his madness.

His stepmother Nadia had admitted him. She perceived him as a nuisance and burden – a fourteen-year-old in the way of her inheriting his father’s wealth.

If he showed improvement, she’d be required to bring him home. Gone were the days of sending children off to an insane asylum for the rest of their lives without question.

So he masked his torment, bottling up his anxiety over the roiling darkness. A normal teenager. Nothing wrong with me.

Dr. Kimberly beamed. “You’ve made excellent progress. I think it’s time for outpatient treatment.”

The exact words he wanted to hear. Freedom.

“If the pain or hallucinations return, though, we’ll admit you again immediately. The pressures of the outside world might cause a relapse, but I have high hopes you’ll do well. Please contact me if you experience a recurrence, or if you develop new symptoms.”

Lucas deflated. Once released, he’d still need to hide his anguish, or Nadia would call the psychiatrist the second she noticed him slip. “Of course, Doctor.” Fooling his stepmother would prove difficult, since she obsessively scrutinized him. Any excuse to get him out of her way.

“Excellent. Pack your things. I’ll contact your mother and schedule your release for tomorrow.” She scribbled on her notepad.

Not my mother.

Mara Kline had died from medical complications the day after he was born. His dad had shared happy stories about his mom, along with albums full of pictures. She’d chosen his name, breaking the long running tradition in the Kline family of the firstborn son inheriting the name of his father.

For ten years, it had been him and his dad. And then Nadia wandered into their lives.

Wretched, gold-digging woman. Unfortunately, she’d fooled Lester Kline, whose heart still ached over the loss of his first wife. He’d yearned to love again, Lucas’s warnings of Nadia’s nefarious intentions falling on deaf ears.

The shadow looped around the legs of Dr. Kimberly’s chair, each twist delivering fresh pangs, like a rusty nail stabbing him repeatedly.

He clenched his teeth, refusing to succumb to the stinging sensation.

Finally, the monster yielded and slithered to its corner, soaking into the wall and disappearing.

His pain faded to an annoying vibration. A level he tolerated easily, as he’d contended with it his whole life. The shadows had initially emerged when he was eleven, so he’d only dealt with them for the past three years.

Lucas relaxed into the couch and smiled. Soon, he’d add to his tattoo and bask in the momentary relief it offered.

❦

No way to evade the shadows’ torment...

A constant undercurrent of pain has weighed down Lucas his entire life. When he turns eleven, shadows only he can see emerge from the darkness, heightening his affliction. Then two years later, his supportive father dies of a heart attack, leaving him with his greedy stepmother.

Nadia desires the fortune her husband left behind, and she’ll do anything to wrest it from Lucas’s hands. Including establishing that her stepson is completely crazy. She aims to declare him mentally unsound, and in turn take full control of his finances.

Fourteen, Lucas has four more years before he escapes from under his stepmother’s thumb. Can he survive that long without proving Nadia right, or will he lose everything his family built, along with his own mind?

Worldhop into the stories of Fate. Each fantastical tale takes place on Earth or Fate, where you’ll find magic, tarot cards, and the three cat sisters woven throughout. Though each adventure stands alone, webs connect these fantasies like an elaborate design. What card illuminates your destiny?

Leave No Dragon Stone Unturned - Excerpt

Finally, another new release! Leave No Dragon Stone Unturned (Magic Morsel, 1) was originally on Kindle Vella (a platform that's been buried six feet under) in episodic form. Now I've rewritten it into a novel!

The ebook is currently only available on Amazon, including Kindle Unlimited. It will be sold at other online retailers later this year. And the paperback version is at Amazon now, plus will be available on the Barnes & Noble website in a couple days.

I love all the crazy characters in this book, and I'm itching to dive into the next title in the series. Hopefully you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! Here's an excerpt from the novel, dropping you right into the middle of Lila Mandrake's world.

❦

My apartment door opened, and Tyler slipped out. “Children, keep it down.”

“Marcus is holding my Aura Sniffer hostage.” I crossed my arms under my chest, realizing Ty’s insult fit the bill too well.

Tyler humphed. “Is this official M.E.A. business?”

“Yes.” Marcus peered over his shoulder. “I need to talk to your client, Ash.”

“Uh, that’s not going to happen. He passed out after we hauled him onto Lila’s couch. Kai’s keeping an eye on him for now. Once he’s able to speak, we’ll let you know.”

Though Ty had been at odds with me earlier, his current calm and nonchalant attitude reassured me. Then again, he scorned Marcus -- if faced with a different M.E.A. agent, his approach would have been more cautious.

My ex glared at me. “Then I guess we wait.” He tilted his head, pressed his palm to his temple, and staggered. “Woah. What the heck? What did you do to me?”

I skittered back. “Nothing. Honest!” Sure, I wanted to take credit for whatever was happening to him. I’d dreamed of payback so many times. Gammy’s voice in my head had always stopped me, though.

“Did he drink the ginger ale?” Tyler dodged Marcus, who wobbled and grasped at the air.

“Yeah.” Uh-oh.

Ty cringed. “Magic and mischief, help me. I’ve been experimenting with it.”

Marcus pressed his back to the wall and slid down it. “The room’s spinning.” His words slurred.

“You what?” Tyler loved concocting new potions and improving our drinks. Only a liquor license was required to sell any brews that qualified as alcohol, unlike our emergency potion stash. “And you left it behind the bar?” I always cautioned him about testing his experiments on our customers, though it occasionally fell on deaf ears.

“I told Kai not to use it, and Marcus is the only one who ever drinks the stuff. Didn’t expect him to show up tonight.”

That made both of us. “Well he did, and he drank it. What’s it doing to him, and how are you going to fix this?”

He sighed and extended his hand. “Even?”

Through the years, whenever we’d gotten into a tiff, we squared the odds and then shook on it. Hey, it had worked since grade school.

“I guess.” I accepted the handshake. Now he could no longer hassle me about taking on Ash as a client, but I also wasn’t allowed to give him a hard time about the potion.

“So I manipulated the molecules to equal about six shots of alcohol, while keeping the taste the same.” He rubbed his chin. “Quite a delayed reaction, and the impact of the booze hit him all at once.”

“You mean, he’s drunk?”

Ty nodded. “I call it Insta-Ale.”

I burst into laughter.

“Just had the idea to whip up a countermeasure in case he came calling again. You know, to avoid the situation of you making another mistake.”

The uncontrollable cackling prevented me from responding, only a few wheezes escaping. Maybe I actually owed Ty. Nope, we weren’t even. Best present ever.

Eventually I got a hold of myself. Kind of. “So now we have two drunk guys on our hands?” I giggled. “Once Marcus sobers up he’s going to be furious.”

Tyler glanced at Marcus. “Yeah.”

“What--?” My ex sucked in an unsteady, deep breath. “What iz diz? Tounge’z numb.”

“And that’s not a side effect I expected.” Ty shook his head. “Guess it needs more tweaking.”

I knelt next to Marcus, unable to stop another wave of laughter. “You’re drunk, you idiot. So much for you not drinking while on the job. You better stay here and sober up before you contact your boss, huh?”

He snaked an arm around my neck. “We could zpend da time togeder.” That oh so familiar lust filled his eyes.

I squeaked, snatched the Sniffer from his hand, then wiggled out of his embrace. “Pass.” Hastily backing away to the opposite wall, I wrestled with dialing down my hormones.

“You’re not going to leave him here with me, are you?” Ty planted his hands on his hips and frowned at Marcus. “He’ll be livid if you skip out while he’s in this state.”

I shrugged. “Need to take my opportunities when I can. I’ll deal with the repercussions later. Get him onto a couch in one of the meeting rooms, and make sure he doesn’t have any other adverse side effects.”

Not wanting to start another argument, I hustled down the stairs. I had an elf to track, in between snickering over my drunken ex.

❦

A half-elf walks into a bar...

Sounds like the start of a bad joke, right? Lila, owner of the Magic Morsel, agrees. As a tech mage who manages the only neutral ground in the Triopolis area, she’s skilled at brokering deals between humans, fae, elves, and a range of other magically inclined people.

Mourning the passing of her grandmother, she’s determined to maintain Gammy’s track record of no major incidents. Then Ash walks into the bar, a half-elf carrying a mysterious item that calls to her.

Agreeing to his request for her services, the deal slides sideways, and she feels obligated to hunt down the stolen object. Her decision leads her to the edge of the Ruins, a forbidden, fallen city shrouded in a cloud of wild magic.

Unfortunately, Lila risks losing her mind among the crumbling buildings and chaotic lightning.

Pull a stool up to the bar in the spellbinding world of Morthmagica, where you’ll discover magic, quirky characters, snarky humor, and slow burn romance. What’s your potion of choice?

Dead As Dreams - Excerpts

Though it's taken me far longer than I would have preferred... Dead As Dreams (Saga of Souls & Dreams) is finally out in the world! It only took over 18 years from when I penned the first word in the initial draft - lol.

So many feels right now, I don't know exactly what to say. OK, well this novel clocked in over 115k words, the paperback is about 400 pages long, and I seriously need a break from writing epic fantasy after this (plenty of urban fantasy projects begging for my attention, anyhow).

I'd also love to know that people are also reading this novel. So if you do read it, post a comment, send an email/message, leave a review - something, anything! This story is very close to my heart, and I want to share it with as many people as possible.

If you'd like to purchase an ebook copy of Dead As Dreams, you can do so via Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Google, and Smashwords. You can also use the Books2Read link for ease in choosing your preferred online retailer. The paperback version will be available later this week on Amazon.

Now that I've given you the links, here's not one, but two excerpts from the novel!

❦

First a snippet from Aysa, The Shepherd of Dreams:

Water dripped all around, the source of the droplets an enigma. A bulb of water appeared directly over an inky puddle, then fell, followed by another. Each drop hammered the Shepherd’s mind, almost as painful as the cries of the child.

The child that couldn’t be found. Not now, not ever.

She curled tightly into herself, large cold stones and gravel beneath her body, pressing hard against her side and cheek. Water soaked into her now tattered wraps, the feathers in her hair sticking to her face.

Again, the cries pierced the nightmare, echoing from every direction. An unvoiced sob caught in the Shepherd’s throat, and she covered her ears. No more. Please.

Her nightmare was always the same. Different settings, but always the child bawling, pain and loss infusing the cries. And the water that wasn’t water, the color of storm clouds and rust.

In the past, she’d searched for the babe. Only in the beginning, though.

Hard to believe there’d ever been a beginning. She strained to recall a time when the nightmare hadn’t existed.

Time. No sun or clock to keep track, she couldn’t tell how long she spent in dreams – time here was intangible, not following the rules of the waking world.

But there had been a beginning. She’d searched, filled with hope of finding the squalling child, only to ache more when she failed to discover the source of the cries. Always out of reach.

And oh, the misery, losing her child over and over again.

Unlike dreams, she had no power in nightmares. No ability to shift and adjust her surroundings or call the babe to her breast.

Even forcing herself to wake, to flee to reality, remained evasive. Though she never tried hard to do so, as that was a different kind of nightmare. And it would always come on its own before long, anyhow.

No longer wishing to fight against Muska’s will, she’d stopped searching after a while. Now, when thrown into a nightmare, she remained immobile and endured the wailing.

The Shepherd cringed at every cry, and the water numbed her skin. She pleaded to be released. Muska refused to acquiesce.

Her wrists and ankles throbbed, echoes of events long dead in her real life. Unless her present had changed. What was being done to her, where she was – she’d lost track.

She lived for the dreams and ran from the nightmares.

And so the babe cried, the water chilling the Shepherd to the bone, as expected. But this time, a new worry tugged at her mind.

The man haunted her. He shouldn’t have acknowledged her presence. She was a shadow in people’s dreams. No one noticed the outline on the floor.

Yet he had.

He couldn’t be like her, able to hop from dream to dream, manipulating the surroundings. He was an encroacher, not a Mahlani. Could it mean something was wrong in the dream world?

The decay she’d smelled in the Nexus – it had to be connected. A puzzle to piece together.

An emptiness hollowed out her insides, and she scrambled to find the first piece. The cries hammering her ears hindered her and derailed her thoughts.

❦

Now a section from the spirit seeker Lazarus:

Lazarus swiped his staff down, driving its tip into the dirt. A tremor shook the ground, shot up his staff, traveled along his arm, and then burrowed into his chest. He stumbled from the unexpected power. Too many spirits.

Not all souls lingered, but this town had its fair share sticking around. More than one night’s work. He hoped the chief would be generous. If not, perhaps he’d allow a spirit or two to linger.

Lazarus knelt and laid his staff in front of him. He pressed his palms against the dirt and leaned down, until the charm around his neck brushed the earth.

The purple light flared, and when he closed his eyes, violet spots danced behind his lids. The brilliant color reminded him of the glossy feathers of the dream-woman.

He muttered under his breath, angry for allowing his thoughts to drift. Never before had he allowed such a distraction to intrude upon his concentration.

The small whisper shook the nearest gravestone – the dead were listening.

Focusing on the dangling orb, he directed the purple light with his mind. It plunged into the dirt and spread out, like the rays of the sun, or the roads springing from the city of Tyrrnah. The light touched several corpses that still had spirits tarrying in the waking world.

Then the first drop of rain struck the back of Lazarus’s neck.

So entangled in his thoughts, he hadn’t smelled the storm rolling in. The drizzle built to a steady rain, and he was drenched in seconds, his cloak clinging to him.

His power was more volatile during a storm.

At least the crowd outside the graveyard remained silent. If they ran for shelter, the ground would quake. Thankfully their fear contained them.

Lazarus recentered, stabilizing the threads of power weaving through the ground of Hambrea. The number of souls took his breath away. Even if a spirit seeker hadn’t visited here for years, it shouldn’t have reached anywhere near this amount.

The deeper he traveled into the Outskirts, the higher the spirit count. But this time... the quantity had leapt considerably compared to the last town, more than was logical.

So many. How?

Another burying ground. He hadn’t seen signs of a second one. Spirits lingered at the edge of his senses, though, out of reach.

He’d pry the location from the chief tomorrow. Nothing he could do from here, so no use worrying about those souls now.

Lazarus wrapped the tendrils of power and light around as many bodies as he could – not even a third of the lost ones in this graveyard. Then he called to them.

“Come. Seek your bodies where they rest. Come.” Though his voice remained a mere whisper, the ground trembled. “Come. Join the bones you left behind. Come.”

And they came, all faded shadows only he could see. One by one, the restless spirits sank back into the earth and curled up in their rotting bodies. When all the ones he’d called rested in their empty husks, he twined the threads of energy around their necks, anchoring them.

Some struggled, attempting to escape. Their wails reverberated in his head, and shook him to his core. His repulsion over the required violence churned his stomach. Always.

No matter the hope for a peaceful send-off, only pain persisted. Once, he’d tried to be gentle, before he knew better. If his mentor hadn’t been there to fix his mistake, loose, angry souls would have rampaged the town.

Lazarus tightened the threads around the spirits’ necks, choking off their ambition. Lightning flashed overhead, paired with thunder, and the tombstones rattled.

❦

Souls chained to the earth scream for release, and nightmares devour dreams.

Aysa, the Shepherd of Dreams, hides in the dream world from a past she yearns to forget. But when the scent of rotting flowers wafts through the Nexus, and multiplying nightmares nip at her heels, she realizes it’s her responsibility as the goddess Muska’s chosen to protect her realm. And then a dreamer notices her for the first time...

Lazarus hates the power the god Lokahn cursed him with – as a spirit seeker, he’s tasked to wander Bodhira, sending off lingering souls to the unknown. In one town, he stumbles across a mass grave and fails to free the spirits, as they’re bound to the earth by another spirit seeker’s magic. Determined to liberate the souls, he seeks help from an unlikely source. A woman from his dream, with blue eyes and feathers in her hair...

Aysa and Lazarus reluctantly make a pact to restore the balance between dreams and nightmares, as well as life and death.

Fairies - Fractured and Uncut - Excerpt

Not only is it a release day - it's a double release day!

In preparation for the Fractured Fairies collection, I revised and expanded Immortal Woes. And it's now available as a single ebook for FREE! You can snag your free copy on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Google Play, and Smashwords. Or for a full retailer list, take a look at Books2Read.

And then of course, I have the collection of all my current Fractured Fairies stories in Fairies - Fractured and Uncut: 7 Humorous Fantasy Tales. All of the stories have been tweaked a bit since they were originally released. The collection includes: Immortal Woes, Ode to Buses and Libraries, S.O.L. Air, Monster in the Room, A Very Grinka Christmas, Bytes Bite, And So Do Fairies, and Nymphs Need Love Too.

You can buy the ebook for Fairies - Fractured and Uncut from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Google Play, and Smashwords. And the full retailer list is at Books2Read. Current price is $3.99 USD.

A paperback version will be available next week from Amazon for $10.95 USD. I had a lot of fun splattering the cover art for the print version! ;)

If you read either title, please leave an honest review on your retailer of choice or at Goodreads (links: Immortal Woes and Fairies - Fractured and Uncut). Reviews help more than you can imagine!

I do have an excerpt for you, as always. This is from that new expanded version of Immortal Woes. Happy reading!

❦

Syndago staggers around the living room, a huge hole where his face used to be. It’s not supposed to do so much damage, at least not according to all the crime shows I’ve watched. But that whole not human thing tends to come into play. Weapons wreak more havoc on immortals.

The shiny, silver handgun lies discarded on the floor. I’m not sure where he got it, and I wonder how hard it’ll be to get rid of. Maybe I’ll toss it into the Immortal World. Let the dwarves, elves, and goblins play with it.

He stumbles into an end table, and the lamp teeters. It succumbs to gravity and shatters on the ground – the true victim of this incident.

I sigh. Typically I only need to replace broken furniture after the fairies visit.

Syndago’s knees buckle, and he thuds onto his ass. His burly, thundering form shakes the entire apartment, and the windows rattle. If he still had a mouth, he’d surely be blubbering.

Poor, big lug. I miss his face, even if it has a frown affixed to it most of the time.

The crater shrinks slightly, flesh and bone regenerating. Who knows how immortals survive fatal injuries. At least half his brain is gone, if he had a whole one to begin with. Humans would kill for our secret, and Syndago would happily give himself over for experimentation if it meant finding him a cure.

Not that I’m about to give him that idea. The last thing I want is for him to succeed at his suicide attempts. And it’s best humans remain oblivious of our existence.

Maybe the wound will cause him memory loss, and he’ll forget he wants to kill himself.

Wait, no. He tried a guillotine once – it sheared his head right off. It thumped into the basket whole, thankfully no longer animated. A human-sized giant with one mouth is enough to deal with. Can you imagine a second tucked under his arm bemoaning life? I shudder at the thought.

Well, when he chopped his head off, I actually dreaded that he’d succeeded for a moment. Then the regeneration kicked in, and he grew a new head, spiky black hair and all. He remembered everything then, so he will now.

The bullet worms its way out of Syndago’s flesh and tings on the hardwood, then his face completes knitting itself back together. He struggles to his feet and slumps onto the couch, tears dripping from his reconstructed brown eyes. "Nothing works, Grinka. What am I going to do?"

❦

Take one grouchy sea nymph, add a woeful human-sized giant, and mix in two lewd, drunken fairies.

What do you get?

An unsavory blend of immortals attempting to live together in the real world.

7 Humorous Fantasy Tales in the Fractured Fairies series, including:

Immortal Woes

Nothing like having a suicidal not-so-giant giant as a best friend. Unless you also have a couple of drunken fairy pests tormenting him about his small stature.

Grinka's the lucky sea nymph who has both. Between comforting her friend and stopping the lewd fairies from taunting him with a death powder, her temper gets the best of her.

And when it does, things explode.

Ode To Buses And Libraries

A maddening itch on the back of Grinka’s neck drives her to seek answers. Unfortunately, the information about her skin condition can only be found at the Immortal Library.

Getting to the library proves difficult, especially when riding the Immortal Express bus line. Between a lackadaisical centaur and the drunken fairy siblings, it's a wonder Grinka hasn't exploded them all.

Oh wait, she has.

S.O.L. Air

That whole “life’s a journey, not a destination” nonsense doesn’t hold water with Grinka. Especially when she books a flight to Vegas to get away from the two fairy nitwits.

She fails to consider the aquatic ramifications of a sea nymph in the air. And a chance encounter with her goblin ex-boyfriend, Hrelm, threatens to delay her even further.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for Grinka to get to Vegas and gamble away her meager savings?

Monster In The Room

What does a sea nymph do when she comes home to find a monster filling her entire living room? Find out in this bite-sized gulp of Grinka.

A Very Grinka Christmas

Grinka's main goal for Christmas: survive without celebrating a damned thing. Between playing an elf to her mopey human-sized giant friend’s Santa and contending with the fairy siblings’ holiday revelries, she’s got her work cut out for her.

When uninvited guests appear on her doorstep, she’s forced to face a party of all the people she ran from when she left the Immortal World. No thanks to that torture!

Grinka plots to avoid the party, until she meets a handsome tree nymph who agrees to attend. Maybe, just maybe, this year Grinka will have a Merry Christmas.

Bytes Bite, And So Do Fairies

As usual, Grinka the sea nymph can’t catch a break. She simply wants to publish her novel. Unfortunately, the two fairy thorns in her side mess with her computer. Too bad they’re immortal and can’t meet the same demise as the innumerable fairies in her book.

If that isn’t enough of a plague, Grinka’s sister Raina pops in from the Immortal World, bringing the first immortal virus with her. And now, Grinka is quarantined in her room with the two fairy nitwits.

Will she survive to hit publish, or will the rainbows and fairies win?

Nymphs Need Love Too

What do you prescribe a depressed sea nymph? A handsome tree nymph, of course.

Grinka can’t stop dreaming of Bello, the hunky tree nymph she met a couple years ago. Unfortunately, sharing her bed with her drama llama teen nymph sister has put a damper on her love life.

Who’s she kidding? Her love life was nonexistent even before she took in her runaway sister. Well, aside from the incident with her goblin ex-boyfriend and his dwarven girlfriend – an event that continues to haunt her in the form of the stalker dwarf.

But Grinka’s not-so-giant giant best friend brings her the gift of Bello’s phone number. Can she summon the courage to call him for a date? And if so, what will her sister and the fairy brats do to ruin it for her this time?

Do Not Go Gentle - Excerpt

It's release day for Do Not Go Gentle! A dark fantasy with spirits and necromancy, perfect for this time of year.

This short story is a prequel to my upcoming novel, Dead As Dreams, which is slated to release in 2023. Lazarus, our main character in this story, is one of the two main characters in the novel. And the series title at present is Saga of Souls & Dreams.

Currently, you can buy a copy of Do Not Go Gentle from Amazon only. It's available with a Kindle Unlimited subscription, though, too!

I hope you enjoy the excerpt below, and may it tickle your curiosity for my forthcoming novel, Dead As Dreams. Happy reading!

❦

Lazarus hated the cold creeping in, taking over his body, his life. He hated the endless graveyards, each tombstone etched with the symbol of the god Lokahn, bull’s horns attached to a human skull and a flame underneath. And he hated the curse he’d been born with — the power of a spirit seeker.

But most of all, he hated watching his mentor, Borko, send off the lingering spirits, choking their wills before flinging them into an unknown plane. So painful and cruel.

All of it reminded him of his appalling mishap. Over a year ago, he’d accidentally resurrected his dead sister, Sara.

Lazarus’s mother had cast him out after what he’d done to his sister, and he’d been traveling with Borko ever since. Her rejection still ached beyond words, but he understood, especially after observing Borko’s magic at work on a near nightly basis.

Spirit seekers were monsters, hunting down the souls of the dead who still clung to Bodhira, then banishing them to... Well, no one knew where exactly. According to Borko, it didn’t matter where they ended up, as long as they lost the ability to torment the living.

And even though Lazarus hadn’t sent off any spirits on his own yet, he was the worst of the monsters. Poor, Sara. Borko had never committed such an atrocity as raising the dead.

Lazarus had questioned his mentor about the incident once, and the man had growled and poked him in the chest. “Never. Never try that again.”

Not that anyone needed to admonish him. Sara’s shambling form still haunted his dreams, and he feared it always would.

“Come. Join the bones you left behind. Come.” Borko’s intonation beckoned to the spirits as he knelt in the middle of the burying ground, the brilliant purple orb around his neck brushing the earth. The chief of this town, the silent onlookers, and Lazarus all waited outside the gate.

His mentor’s words conjured the memory of his worst nightmare, one that had preyed upon him on his thirteenth birthday. Their thirteenth birthday, as he and Sara had been twins.

In his dream, his sister had clawed her way out of the grave, true to reality, but instead of heading toward their house as she had a year ago, she turned on him. Curses spewed from her unhinged jaw, and she staggered toward him, head tilted at a sharp angle due to her broken neck.

Lazarus had stood rooted, heart thudding in his breast as she approached. A sliver of fear wormed its way to the surface, but guilt quickly gobbled it up. He’d done this to her, and he deserved all the harsh words she flung at him. Along with whatever punishment she deemed fit.

The nightmare had ended with Sara descending on him, pulling him to the ground, then dragging him back into her grave where she slowly devoured him, stretching out the pain and agony. Her prolonged torture mangled his soul.

❦

To send souls off requires a spirit seeker to choke the ambition out of them...

Lazarus curses the power he was born with. The power of a spirit seeker. And he curses the memories that haunt him – his sister rising from her grave due to his magic.

Now, his mentor tasks him with sending off souls on his own for the first time. But his memories cause him to question why the spirits linger... And why his mentor deals with them so violently.

There has to be a better way, and Lazarus intends to find it.

Nymphs Need Love Too (Fractured Fairies, 5) - Excerpt

My first new release of 2022 - yay! And it happens to be the fifth installment in my Fractured Fairies series.

Nymphs Need Love Too incorporates Grinka's love life woes, her drama llama teen nymph sister, and a smart speaker that might be too smart for its own good. As always, the fairy brats are mixed up in all of it!

After you enjoy the excerpt below, please consider purchasing yourself an ebook copy at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo Books, Apple Books, Google Play, or Smashwords. Or if you want to look at all the retailer options with one easy click, please go to Books2Read!

And please remember, reviews are much appreciated at any of the retailers and on Goodreads.

Happy reading!

❦

I stomp out of the bedroom to find the fairy siblings flitting over a pyramid-shaped speaker, which is sitting on one of the living room end tables. "What is that?"

Tamor turns around and rolls his eyes. "Hey, Boo. Why is Grinka such a bitch?"

A red light flashes at the top of the pyramid. Then a female voice with sultry tones emanates from the speaker. "I’m sorry, I don’t understand."

"Yeah, me neither." The fairy smirks and scratches his balls.

"Seriously?" I plant my hands on my hips. "You know I hate it when you call me that, and all I did was ask a simple question, so it’s completely unwarranted." Yes, I can always count on these two to piss me off enough to encourage the fireworks.

"Why don’t you ask Boo what she is?" Tamara gestures at the speaker.

Her suggestion puts the breaks on my desire to splatter Tamor into tiny fairy bits... For the moment. Talk to an electronic pyramid? Okay, why not. "Um, hey, Boo. What are you?"

This time the light flashes green. "I am Yam-Boom’s newest, top-of-the-line smart speaker. Over time, I adapt to the household’s specific needs, even adjusting my personality to those I speak with. Please, ask me anything. Just don’t expect me to know everything."

Man, Boo has attitude. Kind of creepy, though.

Tamara claps her tiny hands together. "Isn’t she cool?"

I’m not a huge fan of Yam-Boom. They employ fairies, who prevented me from publishing my novel. Speaking of fairies... "How exactly did you two buy something like this?" Neither have a job, and I no longer keep any spare cash lying around. Last time I did, the fairies stole my hidden stash and bought a tablet, which is now mine. My money, my tablet.

"Uh..." Tamor is never at a loss for words. What gives, now?

Tamara titters and flits up to me. "Remember, Herby? Our cousin who loves wine porn and works for Yam-Boom. Well, he hooked us up. Right, Tamor?"

Her brother’s head bobs, almost as rapidly as his wings.

Eh, I’m not so sure about that explanation. They’re acting shifty. Maybe I can explode the truth out of them.

Before I gear myself up to do just that, Syndago bursts through the front door. "Grinka! I got a job!"

❦

What do you prescribe a depressed sea nymph? A handsome tree nymph, of course.

Grinka can’t stop dreaming of Bello, the hunky tree nymph she met a couple years ago. Unfortunately, sharing her bed with her drama llama teen nymph sister has put a damper on her love life.

Who’s she kidding? Her love life was nonexistent even before she took in her runaway sister. Well, aside from the incident with her goblin ex-boyfriend and his dwarven girlfriend – an event that continues to haunt her in the form of the stalker dwarf.

But Grinka’s not-so-giant giant best friend brings her the gift of Bello’s phone number. Can she summon the courage to call him for a date? And if so, what will her sister and the fairy brats do to ruin it for her this time?

Dawn of Fate (Fortunes of Fate Collection, 1) - Excerpts

Here comes the third release of 2021! This time, I've combined the first six Fortunes of Fate stories into a collection called Dawn of Fate.

Since I've posted excerpts from all six titles in the past, I've included links to those below, instead of offering a new excerpt.

The ebook for Dawn of Fate is only $2.99 (if you bought all six titles separately, it would cost $4.95) and can be found on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Google Play, and Smashwords. Or you can check out Books2Read for the full list of retailer options.

Dawn of Fate is also available in paperback on Amazon for $9.95.

Don't forget to leave a review on your preferred retailer or Goodreads once you've finished reading. It's insanely appreciated.

Happy reading!

Dawn of Fate Excerpts

Dreams in Shadow

Love Fades

Reversed

Void of Intuition

Beguiling Moon

Edge of Sorrow

For every card, there’s a story.

The Fool, Two of Cups, The Magus, The High Priestess, The Moon, and Three of Swords – this collection contains their stories.

Jump into the world of Fate, along with the three world-hopping cat sisters. The first six cards in the Fortunes of Fate series have been drawn. What stories do they tell?

Dreams In Shadow

Tilly decides on a whim that it’s time for an adventure. Unfortunately, her carefree romp in the world of Fate is cut short by the willful Tillnea.

Love Fades

Caradici’s body flickers in and out of existence, threatening to pull her away from the life she's made. She fears Fate beckons to her, that she must return home to save herself, leaving her love behind.

Reversed

Darney's Tarot cards were scorched by a wretched child who set fire to his card table. Their sobs and screams torment his conscience, but he can't heal them because he has no magic.

Void of Intuition

Cece’s tried to ignore her prophetic dreams all her life – they’ve caused nothing but heartache, starting with the death of her grandmother. But now, she’s dreamt of a lost child.

Beguiling Moon

In a moment of weakness, Erolisi succumbs to her power, feeding her need by drawing life force from her best friend, Aelwyn, and shattering their relationship in the process.

Edge of Sorrow

Jasp’s memory of Yetta spurs him to act. Making no promises, he follows Amber to the weeping women in the woods. But it’s not as simple as freeing them. It never is.

Bytes Bite, And So Do Fairies (Fractured Fairies, 4) - Excerpt

Yes, another release! I've been looking forward to this one. It's almost too fun sometimes to play around with Grinka's life.

Bytes Bite, And So Do Fairies is the fourth published title in my Fractured Fairies series, though you can of course jump in with any story.

Please enjoy the excerpt below. And if you'd like to grab a copy, Bytes Bite is only $0.99 at all major online retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Google Play, Smashwords, and Books2Read (the last will give you retailer options to choose from).

And if you read the entire story, please consider leaving a review at one of the retailers or on Goodreads. Reviews are awesome and helpful and it's one of the best ways to support an author you like. OK, I'll shut up now. Promise.

Happy reading!

❦

Now, I know how hard it is to succeed as a writer. Most indie authors need to crank out titles on a regular basis to earn any kind of money. So I tucked away a good portion of my tips for advertising over the last few months. I want this to work – no, I need this to work.

The thing is, when I started writing this first novel, it also turned into an outlet for some of my anger. And oh man, do I have a lot of anger. Just ask Syndago. My not-so-giant giant friend is rather sick of replacing light bulbs. Hey, I can’t control my destructive powers well, and the fairies piss me off at least every other second.

Speaking of the fairies... it’s far too quiet in the apartment.

And no, they don’t know what I’ve been up to on the computer. At least I hope not.

Unfortunately, they’ve gotten rather tech savvy lately, somehow getting their grubby hands on a tablet. I’m amazed they haven’t broken it yet. Perpetually drunk, naked fairies are rather clumsy.

I check under my desk, then under my bed, and look out the window for good measure again. Nothing. Maybe Syndago took them to the park. They love to harass the real birds in their pigeon illusions.

The circle continues to spin and spin. What’s a sea nymph got to do to get her noir urban fantasy published? I smash the Enter button a few times, to no avail. Actually, the circle appears to spin slower.

Damned computer. It’s been so twitchy lately. I even checked it several times to make sure the fairies hadn’t poured wine in the vents, though they’d be reluctant to waste their precious booze for such a prank.

Maybe I didn’t kill enough fairies in my novel. Yes, I killed a lot of fairies. So cathartic, especially since I can’t kill them in real life. Trust me, I’ve tried a million times by exploding them into honey-colored bits. They’re as immortal as Syndago and me, sadly.

In my novel, though... burn fairies, burn.

I snicker, and the circle freezes. Then the screen turns black for a second, followed by flashing rainbow colors. “What the–?”

Fairy giggles flitter from my closet.

❦

I wonder if this is what a gnome tripping on unicorn hairs feels like.

As usual, Grinka the sea nymph can’t catch a break. She simply wants to publish her novel. Unfortunately, Tamor and Tamara, the two fairy thorns in her side, mess with her computer. Too bad they’re immortal and can’t meet the same demise as the innumerable fairies in her book.

If that isn’t enough of a plague, Grinka’s sister Raina pops in from the Immortal World, bringing the first immortal virus with her. And now, Grinka is quarantined in her room with the two fairy nitwits.

Will she survive to hit publish, or will the rainbows and fairies win?

Well of Solitude (Fortunes of Fate, 7) - Excerpt

Finally, a new release! It feels great to be on schedule (actually, I'm a bit ahead for the year). Well of Solitude (Fortunes of Fate, 7) is now available as an ebook at all major online retailers!

Please remember, as with most of my Fortunes of Fate series, you can jump into whichever story you'd like to first - no need to have read the previous titles. Well of Solitude ended up in the novella range, so at around 70 pages you may want to consider diving into this one since it's over twice as long as my second longest Fate title (that would be Edge of Sorrow).

If you'd like to grab a copy after reading the excerpt below, here are a few links for you: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, Google Play, Smashwords, and Books2Read (this last one will give you the option of your preferred online retailer).

As always, if you read Well, please consider leaving a review at one of the retailers or on Goodreads. Thank you, and happy reading!

Note: In the excerpt below you'll see Solis referring to Resz as Rez - this is intentional, not a misspelling!

❦

She brushed her fingers along the door. It creaked open, stale air gusting out.

Only the touch of the dead opened this door.

An ache throbbed inside her – the desire to be whole, normal, not suspended between two worlds. She felt it every time she entered the Well.

Solis glanced up the stairs one last time. Rez peered down, but didn’t move to follow.

Right. Into the depths. After she slipped in, the door sealed behind her with a thud.

A tomb, indeed. One with endless labyrinthine passages and an underlying musty odor of death. Home of the souls of Fate, tasked to wander their unlives away in the darkness. Knowledge that saddened her.

She hoped those who believed some spirits chose to be reborn were correct, though she only bore witness to the ones rambling this maze. If there was another way out aside from the door behind her, or a portal to a different world like the cat had claimed, she’d never found it. Hard to search every passage when they were truly endless and she feared getting lost.

Though Solis had ventured further in on many occasions, attempting to memorize and map out routes in her mind, today she refused to. The necromancer had her on edge. She’d lied to him – she was mostly safe, but not completely. Down here, the madness of the spirits knew no bounds. She was less of a target because of her state, and many had accepted her presence as ordinary. Yet there was still an inherent risk, the chance an insane enough shade would attack her, even attack another of its kind.

The Well was a place for spirits to rest... and lose their incorporeal minds.

Except Neggie. He’d remained sane for the seemingly endless years Solis had known him, and he’d implied he’d been a resident of the Well for much longer before that. Tracking time proved difficult in the garden, though, so no telling how long she’d been here – it all felt eternal. And her unique makeup ceased her aging, a type of immortality, so she couldn’t track the years that way.

Solis sighed, not wanting to dwell on her enduring predicament. At least she was able to offer a touch of light to the darkness, for her and the spirits.

She tossed the lily into the air, and it exploded, sundering itself. Five of the glowing petals zipped into the maze, quickly disappearing into the depths to wander through the winding passages. The remaining orb of light bobbed above her, then landed on her shoulder.

It amazed her how deliberate and sentient the petals acted once they disconnected. As if they transformed from flowers to fairies.

Solis lightly patted the petal. It flitted off her shoulder and hovered high above.

“I sense the living in the garden.” Neggie’s voice broke the deathly silence, and he swirled into existence, a hulking brute of a spirit. She’d always been tempted to ask who he’d been in life, but he likely didn’t remember. Memories melted away the longer one was dead. Currently, his form shaped itself into one resembling a human, his typical appearance when he addressed her, though he’d mastered the ability to shift into whatever he wished, like a cloud of smoke with a will.

“Ah, Neggie, I was just about to call for you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s a necromancer.”

He bent over, his translucent face inches from hers. “Truly?”

“The spirits drew him, and he broke through the enchantments around the island. A determined and stubborn man.” Rude, too, but she figured he wouldn’t care about that.

Neggie billowed upright, his form growing taller. He towered over her – even without a solid form, he was intimidating. “What does he want?”

“To enter the Well.” Odd, he never asked silly questions. Everyone seemed to be doing so today.

“And?” The shadows of eyebrows rose, shimmery in the petal fairy’s glow.

Solis hesitated. Normally, Neggie was more forthcoming, chattier than the other spirits, sometimes more than she cared for. “I thought it best to speak to you.” Her voice cracked, throat suddenly dry.

“Without discovering his intentions? Foolish girl.” His usual patience and kindness had evaporated.

Never. He’d never called her such things before. Girl. She’d left that designation behind years upon years ago.

The kind, yet imposing soul, had transformed into the commanding leader of the spirits he claimed to be. And Solis didn’t like it, not one bit. “He’s a necromancer. You know, someone who can control the dead.” She waved her arms around. “Including me.”

Neggie hummed. “I know what a necromancer is.” He drew closer again, though she wished he hadn’t. She didn’t think it possible for a spirit’s gaze to appear so menacing, so unhinged. “Keep him from entering the Well at any cost. Including your own life.”

Solis stepped back and gasped. “Or?”

“I’ll banish you from the garden forever.” His bulky form swirled into a cyclone and zipped down the nearest passageway, the darkness swallowing him. Booming laughter trailed behind him, and several other spirits cackled in response.

Perhaps Neggie had finally gone mad.

And Solis was left alone to turn Rez away from the island. A necromancer who could manipulate her own soul.

That or risk losing the comfort of her garden – the only place she belonged.

All of a sudden the glowing petal dashed away, and the spirits hushed, returning the maze to stark silence. The Well suddenly felt darker and more threatening than it ever had before.

❦

Solitude. Ward or woe? The answer lies buried in the minds of the mad shades.

Solis embraces her task as Gardener of the Well. Who better to tend to the flora edged in perpetual sunlight – surrounding the tomb of spirits – than someone who is half-dead herself? But when a necromancer arrives on the island, demanding entrance to the Well, her solitude shatters.

Spirits are the only good company, in Resz’s opinion. So when he senses the glut of souls in the Well, compulsion drives him to find them. Unfortunately, a strange woman denies him access. And worse, he’s inexplicably drawn to her, as he’s never been to another living being.

Solis risks control of her own soul to keep Resz out of the Well. Can she convince the necromancer to abandon his quest, or will he pull her strings like a puppet master?

Thorns Entwine the Blade (Trinity Torn, 2) - Excerpt

The sequel to Mind Behind the Mind is finally out in the wild!

Yes, Thorns Entwine the Blade (Trinity Torn, 2) is available to purchase in ebook format. The paperback will be available in either December or January.

Per usual, I have an excerpt below that will hopefully draw you in, as well as the blurb.

If you'd like to purchase a copy, either pop over to Books2Read which has a list of all available retailers, or you can use these direct links to the major online retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Google Play, and Smashwords.

And if you do read Thorns, please consider leaving a review on your retailer of choice. Thanks, and happy reading!

❦

He grabbed a luminorb from the sitting room, but when he returned to the bedroom, he still couldn’t enter. Face your demons, Bastian. The thought was his own, but he heard Tessa’s voice speak it. If she had forgiven him his dalliance, he should have been able to forgive himself.

One step forward, and his scabbard tapped his leg. Yes, he had his sword this time. So, he threw the door open and barged in.

Bastian half expected to find Arian stretched out on the bed, naked and beckoning. But the sheets weren’t rumpled, as they had been when he’d stormed out after he’d realized she’d duped him. After she’d searched his clothes scattered on the floor for the book of prophecies...

No, everything was neat and orderly, the bed made, as if Arian had situated her home in preparation for her return. Such arrogance. A person who took the time to tidy her home before she fled it didn’t fear pursuit. Well, this time he’d turn her into the fool.

He inched closer to the bed and the scent of bellberries struck him. Memories rushed back so suddenly that he stumbled, grabbing the bed to catch himself. Arian’s touch, the soft feel of her skin, and the haze floating through his mind. The need. The want.

Then the anger.

He growled, and the monster inside him bared its teeth, ready to rip a throat out. Arian’s throat.

Just as the spell had shattered with his fury on the night Arian had tricked him into her bed, the current one disintegrated. Arian had left a trap, but only Bastian could have triggered it. She’d known that he’d come here.

The lust and shame clung to his spirit, but he wouldn’t allow it to conquer him. His hunter backed down and waited.

Arian should have known this little spell wouldn’t get its hooks into him, not even as powerful as her compulsion. Then why had she set it?

To distract him. She hadn’t wanted him to find something in here. Too bad.

He spun in his current spot, brushing his vision across every object in the tiny room – it only held her bed in one corner, a small nightstand next to it, and a large wardrobe.

The wardrobe would have made the most sense. There could have been any number of hidden compartments in one so large. But no, when he looked at it, he felt emptiness.

Knowledge, a surety that beat through him like a second heart. His innate talent guided him, striking down the possibilities, rendering his need to physically search for what he sought unnecessary. Under the floorboards? In the mattress? No, looking there would only waste his time.

Bastian grabbed hold of his power and pushed it, forcing it to stretch out as he examined the room again.

And then his eyes snagged on the luminorb on a shelf above Arian’s bed. Yes.

Bastian scrambled on the bed, destroying the neat folds of the blanket, dirt smearing onto the off-white. He’d rather have trampled on Arian herself. He grunted and snatched the luminorb, then jumped down.

It didn’t look any different than the one in his other hand, aside from being dark. He rotated it, but found nothing out of the ordinary. But he knew it wasn’t ordinary. His head throbbed with insistence.

He tried to turn it on, but it wouldn’t light up.

Well, he’d have to take it with him and figure out its secrets later. He tucked it into a pocket and proceeded back to the sitting room.

And his head pounded more fiercely. Perhaps he’d pushed himself too far. Or he needed sleep. He still hadn’t rested after they’d returned from their journey.

Bastian stepped into the sitting room, and the three lit luminorbs, including the one in his hand, flashed to a brilliant, blinding light. The hilt of a blade struck his mind, or at least that was what it felt like. He covered his eyes and staggered into the bookshelf.

Arian. Another trap.

No. The throbbing in his head plummeted to his gut, and he realized this wasn’t her doing, but his own. He’d wished all the lights brighter earlier, and he’d pushed his innate talent to find what Arian had hidden. It must have drawn out the magick inside of him.

Tessa had warned him.

Bastian growled and threw the luminorb he held to the floor. It shattered, and the other two lights grew brighter. He pressed the palm of his hand to his temple. “No!”

Inside, the hunter snarled and snapped and thirsted for blood – Arian’s, Jermaine’s, it didn’t matter whose.

The remaining lights burst, and then the pounding and pressure within vanished, the monster crouching down in submission.

His body wrung out; he was almost as exhausted as he’d felt after healing Tessa. Bed, he needed to head to bed. He staggered out of Arian’s house.

And he had to be more careful in the future. His innate talent might have been a boon in the past, but now it was looking more like a curse. He couldn’t allow himself to let the magick in again.

Never.

❦

A witch hunter refuses to embrace his magick, threatening to consume him from the inside out...

Bastian shuns his witchblood – he’s a witch hunter, after all, and to prove it he hunts down the treacherous witch who betrayed her own kind. But denying his powers is a grave mistake, one which awakens a monster inside him. And when he finally loses control, he commits an act that he dreads Tessa will never forgive him for.

Tessa battles with the memories and emotions her ex-lover Thane funneled into her, to the point where she’s unsure if all of her thoughts are truly her own. Her sudden rise to High Priestess, a new witch on the Council, and two conspiratorial Council members only add to her burden. She fears her mind will snap. And when events force her hand, unhinging her sanity even more, she risks losing herself completely.

But a new menace on the horizon promises to strain both Bastian’s and Tessa’s fights with their internal and external demons – a prophecy from a tattooed apparition threatens to destroy all of Leera...

Born of Blood and Spells - Release and Excerpt

Today, Born of Blood and Spells: 13 Dark Fantasy Stories & Poems releases!

I decided it would be best to combine some of my stand alone titles, while adding in some poems and flash fiction to the mix. This collection includes the previously individually published short stories Dancing in the Wind, Bound, and Sunset Street. It also includes the two titles from Blood & Booze, as well as the two titles from Tales of Chyraine. If you're still looking to get any of those individually, they'll be up for a couple more days, but all aside from Dancing in the Wind will soon no longer be available outside of Born of Blood and Spells.

Born of Blood and Spells is currently $2.99 for the eBook, and you can get it from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo Books, Apple Books, Google Play, and Smashwords. If you want to see a more comprehensive retailer list as well as the description, pop over to Books2Read. A paperback version will be available some time in April.

Since I've posted excerpts of the already mentioned titles before, I thought it would be nice to give a brief snippet of the beginning of one of the flash fiction pieces. Only a little, though, since it's a super short story!

Enjoy Born of Blood and Spells, and the excerpt from Daina's Dance below.

❦

Pound. Throb.

They keep the beat with their movements.

Twist. Bend.

Every night the music makes their muscles twitch.

And I can’t join them.

Black walls, black floors, black ceiling, stiff and wooden, contrasting the fluid forms. A gold anklet here, a scarlet scarf there, splashing color constantly moves against the monotone box. Pale skins flow in the black, beckoning for me to join them. But I can’t blend in – my ears pointed and theirs rounded – so I stand against a wall and watch the swirling bodies.

❦

Drops of crimson and muttered incantations... the stories in this collection are Born of Blood and Spells.

Short stories, flash fiction, and poems – thirteen tales of dark fantasy all written by Alexa Grave.

Hell On Wheels Excerpt

Hell On Wheels, the second title in the Devil Made Me series, is already up on Amazon for pre-order! And I'm guessing some of you might like a taste of what you'll find. Without fail, I have an excerpt below.

I would like to mention my plans for this title quickly, if you'll bear with me (or you can just skip my blather and read the excerpt). As I said above, it's on Amazon right now. If you pre-order, you can nab it for only $0.99. Release day is September 26, 2017, at which time the price will go up to $2.99. It will be available only on Amazon, including in Kindle Unlimited, for three months! On January 2, 2018, Hell On Wheels will be available from the other major online retailers, after a short pre-order period.

The first title in the series, Hell Hath No Fury, will also drop down to $0.99 for a short time starting some time next week! This special price will be available at all the major online retailers. You can find the links on my Devil Made Me series page. If you haven't read it yet, the beginning of October will be the best time to get it at the lower price.

Also keep in mind, you shouldn't be lost in Hell On Wheels if you haven't read the first title. Though I'm sure if you read the second, you'll want to go back and read the first. Moira is a hoot!

OK, OK, here it is, the excerpt from Hell On Wheels...

❦

A man in an impeccable gray suit perched on the edge of my desk, legs crossed and a car-salesman smile plastered to his face.

This was my office, damn it. No one allowed unless I said so. "Who the hell are you?"

He chuckled, a controlled and forced sound. "Nice one. I'm Richard, but you can call me Dick." When he extended his hand, it looked too perfect, too practiced.

Dick, huh? This would be fun. I crossed my arms instead of shaking. "We just met -- you should keep the juicy information about your disposition for later."

He dropped his hand. "I assure you, my name is telling, but not in the way you're thinking." The corner of his mouth twitched.

Crap. Someone ready to sling shit back at me. "Well, Dick, I think you took a wrong turn. This is my office."

"No wrong turn, Moira. I'm exactly where I intend to be."

He knew my name, but I'd never seen him before. True, there were many residents even on the second floor, but someone who exuded this much charisma and sleaziness wouldn't have stayed hidden. "When did you arrive here?"

"Oh, I'm not from this floor." The extended word "this" slid over me like an oil slick.

It reminded me of Douglas -- a resident who'd been mistakenly sent to the second floor and had almost killed me... again. Well, maybe his intent hadn't been to kill me, but he sure hadn't wanted to snuggle. Pandora had sent Douglas to his proper floor before Jared or I could rip his creepy throat out. A man I intended to keep in my rear-view for the rest of my unlife.

"You're not from the seventh floor, are you?" I now knew that was where people like murderers and rapists went. That had been my topic of study yesterday. Well, I think it was yesterday...

Dick laughed again, so close to someone saying "ha ha ha." "No, no, of course not. Would you believe the fourth?"

Greed. Seemed to fit. "You weren't by chance a car salesman before you died, were you?"

That fake smile fell off his face for a moment, and then he rallied, grinning bigger than he had before. "Smart."

Smartass -- he'd learn that if he stuck around.

Wait. How'd he get here, anyway? There was supposed to be no floor-to-floor travel. Unless Pandora had deposited him here. Or there was a way that she had yet to tell me.

Sneaky bitch. Jared was right -- Pandora hid things. But I wasn't about to admit it to him, at least not until I uncovered the secrets and confronted the lying wench. If I told him, he'd try to be all chivalrous again, like with Douglas.

I could take care of myself.

First step, don't react to Dick's floor-hopping. He couldn't know Pandora had remained mum on the topic with me. "What brings you from the fourth to the second?"

If possible, his smile grew bigger. How'd he talk like that? "You have something I want."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"Your job."

I giggled, holding back the gut-buster I yearned to unleash. "You want to be a Welcomer? Be my guest." I tossed the sequined horns at him, and he caught them cleanly without looking down.

"Not that job." He quickly tilted his head then righted it.

Nervous tick or display of superiority? I reconsidered the whole fourth-floor declaration. Like Douglas's original assignment to this floor, it didn't seem right. Sure, people were greedy for power. But the desire to become the devil was on a whole 'nother level.

Not to mention, unless Pandora had told him of my impending promotion, he shouldn't have known. The other residents of this floor had poked around my office and asked questions, but I'd brushed them off with that whole wish thing. Told them it made me feel more normal to putter around an office.

"Get the hell out."

Dick stood and smoothed his suit, even though there weren't any wrinkles in it. He straightened his tie, which shifted from a classic black-striped number to tiny flames on a dark gray backdrop, and placed the horns on my desk. "I look forward to the challenge, Moira." Then he strode out as if he already had the position in the bag.

❦

Boyfriend hate your job? Well, he can go to Hell.

Yup, Moira's still dead. And her ex from life, not so much an ex anymore, isn't happy that Moira agreed to take the devil's place once she retires. Makes it kind of hard to while away their unlives on the second floor of Hell.

But Moira's not willing to back out of the deal, stubborn as, well, hell. Even when a sleazy three-piece, supposedly from the fourth floor, demands the job for himself, she refuses to withdraw.

Once Moira uncovers some of Hell's secrets, though, she starts to question her commitment.