 Sixteen-year-old Kaye is a modern nomad. Fierce and independent, she travels from city to city with her mother's rock band until an ominous attack forces Kaye back to her childhood home. There, amid the industrial, blue-collar New Jersey backdrop, Kaye soon finds herself an unwilling pawn in an ancient power struggle between two rival faerie kingdoms - a struggle that could very well mean her death.  Just typical. No love life to speak of for months, then all at once, every horny creature in the Otherworld wants to get in your pants... Eugenie Markham is a powerful shaman who does a brisk trade banishing spirits and fey who cross into the mortal world. Mercenary, yes, but a girl's got to eat. Her most recent case, however, is enough to ruin her appetite. Hired to find a teenager who has been taken to the Otherworld, Eugenie comes face to face with a startling prophecy—one that uncovers dark secrets about her past and claims that Eugenie's first-born will threaten the future of the world as she knows it. Now Eugenie is a hot target for every ambitious demon and Otherworldy ne'er-do-well, and the ones who don't want to knock her up want her dead. Eugenie handles a Glock as smoothly as she wields a wand, but she needs some formidable allies for a job like this. She finds them in Dorian, a seductive fairy king with a taste for bondage, and Kiyo, a gorgeous shape-shifter who redefines animal attraction. But with enemies growing bolder and time running out, Eugenie realizes that the greatest danger is yet to come, and it lies in the dark powers that are stirring to life within her...  Commanded by her aunt, the dark Queen Andais, to conceive a child as heir to the throne, Meredith Gentry, a half-mortal, half-faerie princess, returns to Los Angeles, only to find herself and her lovers trapped between the dark and light faerie courts and human law.
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 The Morrigan is the Celtic Goddess of War, Fate and Death. Her name means Phantom Queen and she has the ability to shape shift usually taking the form of a raven or a crow.
She is similar to the Valkyrie's of Norse legend, appearing over battlefields and deciding who will live and who will die. She is sometimes depicted as having two sisters and represents the triple Goddess.  1) Tell us about your book (s) (or short story) Halayda (book one in the Star-Fae Trilogy) is an epic fantasy/steampunk mashup inspired by Celtic fae mythology and featuring fast-paced adventure, impossible romance, and snarky faeries. Halayda released in 2017, and the second book, Rothana, comes out this fall. From the back cover: A mortal alchemist. A faerie king. A bond that transcends death. Betrayed by a trusted mentor, Sylvie Imanthiya hides on the fringes of society, caring for half-fae orphans and trading her alchemical creations on the black market. She lives for the one night each season when she can see her dearest friend—a man whose destiny is far above hers. King Taylan Ashkalabek knows better than to exchange halayda vows with a mortal. Even their friendship is a risk; love is an impossible dream. Then a brutal alchemical attack poisons his realm, unearthing a dark power within him—and leaving Sylvie with the ancient mark of Faerie’s savior. Manifesting unpredictable abilities and aided by allies with their own secrets, Sylvie and Taylan journey into the wilds of Faerie to heal the damage and confront Casimir, an invincible star-fae determined to claim the realm as his own. But only their enemy knows Sylvie’s true capabilities—and Taylan’s weaknesses—and how to use them in his vicious schemes. Her fate is life. His fate is death. With Faerie in the balance, Sylvie and Taylan must stand together before reality as they know it is destroyed. 2) Who is your main character? Tell us about them. Twenty-five-year-old Sylvie Imanthiya is a half-fae alchemist who lives in the slums of a Victorian-esque city. She devotes her life to rescuing orphaned fae and half-fae children, selling her alchemical potions on the black market to make ends meet. She loves blankets, peppermint tea, and painting murals on the walls of her ramshackle house. For the past seven years, she has served as an ally of the fae king Taylan, using her alchemy to help him keep order on solstice and equinox nights, when the fae come and go freely between Faerie and mortal realm. 3) What is your favorite Fae myth or story? Hard to choose! I think my favorites are found in the old ballads of England, Scotland, and Ireland. In addition to writing, I do traditional-style ballad singing. Faeries turn up a lot in these centuries-old songs, and they usually bring plenty of trouble with them. Probably the most famous is Tam Lin, in which a woman has to rescue her lover from a faerie queen who is going to literally send him to hell. Another of my favorites is Thomas Rhymer, who falls into the hands of a far more benevolent faerie queen but still ends up getting taken away to Faerie for seven years and being given the "gift" of not being able to lie (gotta love fae gifts). I really want to write a Thomas Rhymer retelling someday. 4) The Fae. Helpful magical creatures? Or mischievous tricksters? More of the second, definitely! I like my fae with an edge of danger - unpredictable and not bound by human rules, but still capable of benevolence. 5) What is your Fae elemental? Salamander (Fire) Undine (Water) Brownie (Earth) or Sylph (Air) Undine!  About the Author:
Sarah Delena White was raised by wolves in an alternate dimension. She writes eclectic speculative fiction that reworks mythology with a fine balance of poetry and snark. She’s an experienced world traveler who loves to weave world folklore and ancient concepts into vibrant, original story worlds. She is the administrative manager for Uncommon Universes Press. When she’s not writing, she can be found making elegant designer bead jewelry, traveling to festivals as a professional ballad singer, drinking tea, and seeking to create the perfect latte. She can be bribed with dark chocolate. You can find her online at https://sarahdelenawhite.com/  A changeling is said to be a fairy child that has been switched out for a human child. The fairies would take the child to use as a slave or out of malice. There are stories from all over the world including Ireland, Scotland and Germany.
The changeling children were usually badly behaved or had other afflictions. It is thought that this was a way of explaining deformities and illnesses.  1) Tell us about your book (s) (or short story) The inspiration for my River Witch series came from mulling over the idea that the fae might have disappeared from Britain just because it's a world that they can't live in as it currently is – that a world wrapped in iron and metal and glass might not be one that they wanted to live in. But what if there might come a time in the future, I wondered, when the cities were crumbling and technology had failed, when humans had retreated to eking out a living in the countryside, and the fae might realise that it was safe for them to come back again? This provided the starting point for the first book in my series, The River Witch, in which the fae are waking up again and no one is quite ready for them... 2) Who is your main character? Tell us about them. My main character is a girl called Tabitha. When the little folk start wreaking havoc, it falls to her to leave home in search of the fabled Iron City, home to the only humans who still have any memory of the fae and the only ones who might be able to help her village. She's not really cut out to have been sent on an adventure and she truly would have been happier staying at home by the river with her grandmother and her books. She's hopelessly naïve and too trusting of everyone she meets, but she's just never had a reason to be mistrustful of anyone before. It takes a while for Tabitha to adjust to the idea that the world around her has changed, and she's still figuring out whether she really wants to change with it. But whether the river magic that's bubbling up inside her will let her decide this for herself – well, that's another matter... 3) What is your favorite Fae myth or story? Oh there's too many to choose from! I think what I love most about the fae are the little rituals and superstitions that people used to have – like leaving milk out for brownies, wearing St John's Wort to keep the fae from stealing you away at night, or telling the bees when there had been a birth or death in the household so they could spirit the news away to the Otherworld. If I had to pick a story, my favourite is probably an old, sad story about a selkie. Selkies were said to be shapeshifters who could change from seals into men and women by slipping off their sealskin. Selkie women would often come to the shore to dance, and sometimes they would catch the attention of local fishermen who were entranced by their beauty. The tale goes that one cunning fisherman stole one of the sealskins, preventing the selkie from returning to the sea and leaving her with no option but to marry him. There are variations in the stories about what happens next, but they almost always end sadly when the selkie's skin is returned to her, usually by one of her children, and she returns to the sea. Sometimes her children go with her, and other times they remain with their mortal father on land. 4) The Fae. Helpful magical creatures? Or mischievous tricksters? A bit of both I think! Although if I had to fall down on one side of this, I would say mischievous tricksters, just because too many stories paint them as totally harmless. 5) What is your Fae elemental? Salamander (Fire) Undine (Water) Brownie (Earth) or Sylph (Air) Sylph for me – I definitely feel an affinity to the wind and the sky. About the Author:
Helena Rookwood has spent a long time researching all there is to know about Faerie, and she’s happiest when she’s poring over old books and imagining what the world used to be like. More recently, Helena has also been wondering what the world might be like in the future – whether there will ever be a turn back to the Old Ways, when people cared about stories and the little people and the land they lived on. This was the starting point for her River Witch series, a deliciously dark tale about fairies and witches and earth-magic which is set in post-technology Britain. She promises you’ll love it.  1) Tell us about your book (s) (or short story) My series is a young adult fantasy series. It is set in the Eight Kingdoms. It is not just a world of armoured winged fae but has many fantasy races and people in. When I decided to write the story down, I intended it to be for children. I quickly discovered that my writing ‘voice’ is not suited to that age range but feel it fits the mature Young Adult and above, reader. My daughters helped me name the characters and the dragons whilst it was merely a bedtime story for them. Some of those names I have kept, others I’ve changed. (You can’t have a dragon called Sparkles!!) The main series is four books and follows seventeen year old Diamond Gillon from when she realises her heritage is not all it seems to be and hunters who follow the Wraith Lord, come for her. Her whole town is decimated and this attack becomes the catalyst for her magic to manifest. Whilst fighting for her life she meets Commander Hugo Casimir, an armoured winged warrior, whom she discovers is a queen’s Elite Guard. The rest of the series follows their relationship through betrayal, love, war and grief; and the intricacies of how the realm of the gods, the mortal world and Chaos are connected. The fifth book-A Bond of Destiny and Dragons, is a full length prequel. It is set one thousand years earlier and covers the lives of two best friends. Erzion who is half-wizard and half-fae and Prince Lexon Arjuno who is a fae warrior. Both take a blood pledge to their goddess when their home is attacked by a betrayer to the throne. The story then follows how their lives are changed by that pledge and how they must survive when their destinies take different paths. This book covers events that are integral to the series with Diamond and Hugo. 2) Who is your main character? Tell us about them. I’ve hinted above that there are two main characters. The series is written mainly from their point of view. Diamond begins the series as a young girl who, though she is not innocent, has anxiety attacks. As the story progresses and she learns how to manage these attacks. With Hugo’s help, and the help of the warriors and friends she makes, she discovers how to become independent and fight for her own survival. In the final book…well, you’ll have to wait and see:) 3) What is your favorite Fae myth or story? I love the fact they are supposed to be made weak by iron. It’s fabulous from a stroy telling point of view. I also love that they are beautiful creatures but aren’t always pleasant. A little wickedness makes life in fae lands fun! 4) The Fae. Helpful magical creatures? Or mischievous tricksters? Ooh, somewhere between the two. I think the fae I have written about are a little more feral than those examples! 5) What is your Fae elemental? Salamander (Fire) Undine (Water) Brownie (Earth) or Sylph (Air) I adore the water and the ocean, so Undine I suppos About the Author:
Karen Tomlinson is the USA Today Bestselling author of The Goddess and the Guardians YA fantasy books. Karen addres books and will read any genre that catches her eye, but she likes nothing better than an epic fantasy, heavy on the romance, which is set in a new and magical world. Karen lives in Derbyshire, England, (think Mr Darcy territory) with her husband, twin girls and her dalmatian, Poppy. When she is not busy writing, reading (or eating cake and drinking coffee) Karen likes to keep active. She has been practicing Shotokan karate since being fifteen, loves running, mountain biking and walking in the hills with her family. She loves to connect with her readers and you can visit her on: www.karentomlinson.com, follow her on: Facebook-@ktomlinson.author. Chat on her Facebook group-Karen Tomlinson's Silver Guardians, or follow her on Twitter-@kytomlinson and Instagram @karentomlinsonauthor.  Ishka’s Garden
Eilean Ren Capital of Fae Realm Royal Home Beneath the alabaster arches over my narrow windows, something flutters against my curtains, interrupting my reading. I squint toward the sound as I rub my earpoints. They’re sore from concentration. I’ve spent my half-day studying the techniques recorded in the leather-bound journal of a master arborist. A tree in my garden needs pruning before the Moontide festival. The tree that I’ve come to think of as Seesha’s Tree. My little friend will be so pleased with her new home. Fesh designed it well and picked the perfect branch. The two of them favor my Mergone and not many Fae can say a pair of the winged creatures live nearby. Surrounded by elaborate furnishings, but barren walls, I’ve kept the drapes drawn against the white light from our orb. Unlike many of the other worlds Arún has visited, we do not have a sun-star here, but we have captured the same chemical reaction in a sphere situated at the tip of the tower that stands in the center of our capital. The reaction is much smaller, but it brightens the city and keeps us warm. Dark and quiet better suits the melancholy that haunts me today, preferring self-pity over action. Action is for heroes. There’s more scratching at the silks. “Who’s there?” I call. No one answers, but it sounds like a bird trapped in a net. Helpless creatures always pull me from my cloistering, even when my family cannot. When I hear a bzzzt followed by the soft tinkling of bells, I know what’s found me. I cross the polished floor, veins of sparkling gems crisscross the expanse, broken by white woven throw rugs that my mother had cleaned last week. It was a less-than-covert attempt to force me from my rooms. It worked for a time. Though, reading on Arún’s balcony probably wasn’t the ousting my mother had in mind. When I throw back the fabrics, light pours in and a green Hum-Fairy hovers at my eyelevel with crossed arms and a frustrated twist to her mouth. She’s round and curvy, but still only as big as my palm. Her wings are obscured by her movement as she zips one way and then another, a glowing blur-in-motion. “Oh, Seesha, I’m glad you’re home,” I say and lift my hand to her. I’ve been favored with a long-time friendship of Hum-Fairies. They’re gentle creatures, always traveling, but elusive in the realms. She settles on my fingertips, stepping down into my palm, the tops of her wings stretch out above and behind her like the ornate fins of a fishdancer, and the bottoms pool in soft, feathery puddles on my skin. She’s covered in luminescent plumage, something between a Skybird and a fairy; sentient, but not Fae. She folds her arms again and taps her foot on the fleshy part of my hand, just below my thumb. “Were you resting? Have you found someone to be the night to your moon?” she asks, her ever-changing mood already shifting from irritated to concerned to elated. Despite her lack of vocal cords, and though her short beak doesn’t move, I can hear her voice as easily as if she’d spoken in my ear. Every Fae can communicate with a Hum-Fairy, but time and practice makes telepathic communication with Hum-Fairies effortless. She’s been my friend for years, and she knows how my disposition turns. “Have you lost color since I’ve been gone?” “There is no one. This has not changed.” I say. “And I was reading. The Mergone needs pruning. My memory needed refreshing on technique.” She doesn’t know about Arún or she wouldn’t begin as though nothing has changed. “And I’m as pale as I’ve always been, from my milk skin to my colorless eyes to my snowy hair.” “My home is still here.” Her statement is part question. “Fesh has been waiting for you.” I beam at her, dancing on my toes, happy she’s returned from the human realm. Fesh will be so pleased. He won’t just be overjoyed; he’ll get bright orange and spin loops in the air. “He asked me to help him build something for you. He said you would be back soon.” Seesha strokes her chin. “We spent our sleeping dreams together. He can always tell when I’m ready to return. The same as I can with him.” She leaps into the air, her eyes twinkling. “I’ll meet you there.” She’s thinking of Fesh and seeing him. He always brings a languid smile to her face. Wanderlust tickles her feet. Lately, she’s been in New York at Arún’s request. “See you both in a bit,” I say. “We must find you a mate, Ishka. It isn’t good to be alone,” she says. And then, with a zip, she races away toward her mate. The sound of tiny wind chimes trails after her. I sense her until she’s too far away. Proximity effects the telepathic connection. I tie my slippers slowly. Seesha’s going to love the surprise Fesh planned and I want to see it, but giving Seesha alone time with Fesh is probably the less-selfish choice. I don’t bother with a formal veil since I won’t see dignitaries or politician in this part of the palace. Not anymore. Not since I made my position clear. I open the door, surprising a maid as she hurried from one place to another. Her eyes widen when she sees my bare face. Or maybe she’s startled that I’ve not met an untimely demise as the rumors proclaim. “Princess,” she says, dropping a nervous curtsy. “May I assist you?” “No, I’ll find my own way.” I turn, not willing to endure the censure or the pity. I am a princess that will never be queen. A blighted daughter that will never become a mother. Down the hall, I stop long enough to study a tapestry depicting Arún saving a small village in another realm, riding his winged steed to triumph. My brother was always the hero. He’d say, “Enjoy this peace,” with his pale sideways grin. Then he’d kiss my cheek, fashion a geode portal, and return to wait for his mate to arrive in New York. It wasn’t until he left home to stay in a foreign land that he appreciated our city. After his marriage, he brought his wife to meet us. She delighted me, captivating me with her sometimes sardonic humor and unintentional disregard for our ways. She was a starburst in my shadows, unlike any other I’ve known. Two corridors and many thoughts later, I find myself at the door to my brother’s unoccupied apartment rather than standing at the gate to my private topiary. Arún loved to be the hero and look what it earned him: a self-sacrificing death. Now Arún is gone, and the dead cannot grant permission. I let myself into his rooms without hesitation. From the balcony off of his living quarters, I study the beautiful city formed from ancient stone by my ancestors. Circles of color illuminate the streets as Fae use their magic in their daily life. Each Fae possesses a shade of magic unique to them, and a rainbow of spheres dance in the light from the spire at the center of the acropolis. The trees on the promenade below are orange, yellow, red, and Arún’s favorite shade of green. The scented breeze whispers of the blooms of the bell-vines growing inside my walled garden. Moisture rises up from the ground to water all our living things. Cisterns never run dry, and fountains sparkle, draped in diamond-water cascades. Arún’s mate did not weep as she escorted his body through our streets, but I heard her cry echo my own even as I found comfort between the fountains with the Hum-Fairies that choose to live near the ancient Mergone. ### Leaf clippings from the thick-trunked Mergone branch fall around my bare feet. Our lightstay lamps are made from cultivated Mergone wood. The sap doesn’t evaporate after cutting and holds magic longer than anything else. One spell can light a home all night. The Mergone are carefully cultivated here. I’m pruning with magic-made shears, knitting molecules and cells back together, healing the tree even as I take from it. I wiggle my toes in the soft grasses and hum a tune the musicians played while I ate mid-day meal. A zephyr stirs the dress I wear. Royalty employs the best seamstresses, skilled in magically animating prints. And this dress is one of my favorites, giving me hope in the possibility of a happiness beyond. The fabric spins with moving reproductions of galaxies from across the realms. We’re at the center of the circle-shaped space, enclosed by castle walls and surrounded by a manicured garden, at the center of a sun shape formed from mountain stone. The ancient hardwood is the crown of my garden, surrounded by a lush green carpet and blooms of all shapes and colors. Seesha zooms by my head and then settles on my shoulder, moving in quick little jerks as she studies our surroundings. “Don’t trim our branch. It’s perfect.” “Mmmm,” I agree, moving past the wide and gnarled limb where Fesh asked me to hang their little tree house. Seesha had always dreamed of living in the majestic tree. Just outside their tiny home, we put a glassed-in swing. When either of them sits in it, the globe glows as bright as a lightstay spell lamp. “I haven’t seen Fesh this morning,” I say. “He’s gone to fetch my mother from across the city,” Seesha answers. “She was offered a home by a musician when she paused to hear a melody.” My little friend darts from my shoulder to her gently swaying swing. I envy Seesha’s freedom. All over our kingdom, when a Fae sees a Hum-Fairy, they are welcomed, invited in, provided a home, but the opportunity to refuse or move at any time. They are a good omen. But their lives are their own, their presence counted a blessing, no matter how short their stay. Capturing a Hum-Fairy, removing their free choice, is an offense punishable by exile. A noise in the bushes pulls me from my peaceful reverie, and I stare across the lawn to the large-tailed bird shape that Arún commissioned after a bird he saw in Central Park. It was his way of sharing his travels with me. I lower my hands and the shears disappear. Dark eyes stare out at me from beneath the lifted foliage wing. A shimmer wraps around the tall, masculine figure. I take a step forward, blinking to clear my vision, but he’s gone. “Did you see that?” Seesha says and then she zips by my head, zooming toward the shrub. “Did you see it, too?” I jog after her, curious what creature has been caught in the greenery. “Something’s here,” she calls behind her as she darts into the foliage. She gasps. And then something closes. Like a box snapped shut. A muscular man wrapped in robes, his face hidden behind a wrap of linen, bursts out and bolts across the promenade to the thick bell-vines that grow up and over the highest wall. At the base of the bulwark, he glances over his shoulder at me. Moments stretch into something longer, as he stares at me and I stare at him. Be the night to my moon. I shake my head to banish the errant thought. When he looks away, I tug at my skirts, lifting the hems as I go. This dress isn’t made for running. In his hand, a glass box swings at the end of a chain. He hooks the metal loop to a spot on his belt. Inside the cube, Seesha presses her tiny hands against her prison. “Ishka…” she begins, but she’s so far that her words are too faint to make out. “Stop,” I cry, waving my arm wildly. “You can’t take her. She’s made her home here. They will exile you.” But I’m too far to catch him. I’ve never heard of a Fae kidnapping a Hum-Fairy. It’s unthinkable. I summon magic, but I’m out of practice with attack spells. My hands tingle with the surge of energy they hold. The only formulas I can call to mind are my shears and a cloudburst. With one hand I send a fluffy cloud to weep on his head, hoping desperately that the moisture will make the creepers slick. With the other, I send the shears toward the vines above him. But the snipping is too late and his hands must be more calloused than mine. And then he’s over the other side and into the city. He didn’t slip. He didn’t fall. He’s escaped, and now I can’t sense Seesha’s thoughts. When I reach the bottom of the barrier, I hesitate and press my ear to the thick stone. Footsteps are running away, but Seesha makes no sound. My heartbeat thunders in my ears like galloping pasture hounds. I’m not made to be a hero. I bite my bottom lip. Seesha needs my help, but my veil is in my room. I haven’t been out of the castle in years. I refuse. And I haven’t gone unveiled about the city since I was a little girl. Reasons, I have plenty. And then I think of Fesh, home soon with Seesha’s mother, and how badly I missed her while she had been gone. They will miss her, and she is my friend. I grasp the gnarled branch, ignoring the bite of rounded barbs in my tender skin, hauling myself up the twisted vines, avoiding the snipped ones. The wall is as wide as my arm is long, and I climb atop to stare over the city, trying to catch sight of the kidnapper. I can see the dark hood on the man receding into the distance, amid wandering shoppers and pedestrians in food row. I look at the street below. It’s a long ways down, but I don’t have much time. The young bell-vine doesn’t cover the exterior of the wall yet. So I grab the nearest tendril, hoping it’s strong enough to bear my weight so that I can jump to the ground outside. It’s a tough plant, but I’ve never tried to swing on one before. I turn my back to the street, blow three short breaths, and begin the descent. Half way down the wall, I run out of length. Now I have no choice but to drop. I open my hands, becoming weightless, falling through the air, giddy with a thrill I haven’t felt since the blight burned away my wings. And then I land in a puddle of reality as my ankles roll and the balls of my feet meet the street. Pain shoots up my legs, reminding me I’m not who I once was. Thank goodness. I gasp as I pitch forward, flailing, and a nearby woman rushes to assist, dark hair loose and flowing. She catches me before I fall forward to the pavement. “Are you alright, Miss?” she says. I tuck my hair behind my ear, and it is her turn to gasp. She nearly drops me when she curtsies. “Princess,” she whispers, studying my face. Yeasty, spicy smells waft out of the bakery on the corner, and her emerald-eyed scrutiny makes me uncomfortable while I regain my balance. “What?” I bark at her, gathering my star-field skirts and preparing to run. She startles. “Oh, nothing. I just thought you were scarred.” She lifts a hand to my jaw as if to smooth her hand along it. I scowl at her, processing her words, but say nothing. “You’re lovely. You shouldn’t hide,” she breathes, and then her eyes widen when she realizes what she’s said. She drops and her hand and curtsies again before she trots away. Without time to correct or ponder, I bolt after the criminal, praying I haven’t lost him to the delay. ### He leads me through the market and beyond, ducking between stalls and vendors. The streets empty of people and the buildings grow shorter as we go. This far from the orb, the shadows are larger, seeping out of the corners and alleys until I have to weave between them. While I know they can’t hurt me, I avoid them. The blight caught me in the shade. I shiver, wrapping my arms around my middle. Crime doesn’t happen here, but I study the windows for angry faces and sneaky eyes. The roads feel smaller, a too-tight coat, but I’ve seen the Architect’s plans. All thoroughfares in the city are the same, running in straight lines, organized and logical. This is an optical illusion, an emotional mirage. The kidnapper slips into a doorway, and I sag against the stoop of a blackstone house. A door squeaks behind me, the wood grinding against the floor as the door is pulled open. I leap forward, but spin quickly, hand held up. “Who’s there?” an elderly voice groans. I can’t see the face, but no more movement is made. This Fae means me no harm. “Oh, I beg your pardon,” I say, and then I slip three stoops down. I press my ear to the roughhewn door he entered. The stranger hasn’t come out, so that means I go in. Seesha’s life may depend upon it, and I cannot bear the thought of losing her. Arún would save her. “Everyone should try heroics at least once in their life,” he’d say, and shove me forward. Today will be my once. With my toes on the threshold, I summon magic, holding it in my hands, rocking back and forth. I have a grafting spell at-the-ready. I’ll use it to… tie something together. Or graft an apple tree to a peach. Maybe I can horticulture the kidnapper into submission. I grimace and swallow. This isn’t the best hex for actively going into battle, but I can’t think. I’m not skilled at this, but I’m the only chance Seesha has. I kick the door, but the opening isn’t dramatic and my bare feet aren’t protected. The door swings open slowly, and pain explodes in my toes, radiating up my calf. I whimper and stumble in, sputtering threats, trying to see through the rush of tears. Blinking rapidly, I lean on the square table in the middle of the room and something crinkles under my hand. As my eyes clear, I realize that I’m leaning on a workbench and it’s covered in scraps of parchment. Under my fingers, I see a hasty scrawl that reads, “Hello, Princess. Thank you for coming.” Seesha’s prison rests at the corner, the top thrown open. I scowl at the note. There’s something strange about that note, as though the writer knew I would be here. Then that means…. He knew I was following him the whole time. Holding still, I glance around the room from beneath my lashes. A blaze burns in the fireplace. Lightstay lamps illuminate the room. Though the spells aren’t strong, the light is still there. I wish it was brighter. They all brighten. Someone is reading my mind without permission. But, rather than creating a mental block, I continue the study of my surroundings, allowing the probing. I don’t want to scare them away or inspire an attack. I have nothing to hide. There’s a noise across the room, and my eyes are drawn to a low bed along one wall. A small someone is tucked beneath a tattered cover, and I’m drawn to the bedside. In a trance, I walk slowly toward the bed until I can study the figure tucked beneath the sheets and cover. My mouth falls open and my jaw slacks. An ashen-skinned little girl rests in the bed. Dark veins in her cheeks mar her features like black webs. Her ear tips quiver with each breath she drags in. She has the blight. There’s a squeak behind me and a tinkling close to my ear. In a burst of neon, Seesha dives over my shoulder to the child on the bed, hovering over her face. “Seesha,” I gasp, waving for her, gesturing to her to follow me. “You’re free.” “Ishka,” she says, but doesn’t act surprised or turn toward me. I frown at her dismissal. She had been kidnapped and I am here to save her. “Should we go?” I ask, pointing toward the door. “Later,” she says. “Be still.” Her command catches me off-guard. I’m not used to being bossed around by anyone, much less one so slight. She should be terrified of being trapped again. “First, I want to…” Her words trail away. And then I see a shadow out of the corner of my eye. And then the now-unmasked kidnapper is upon us, standing nearby. He doesn’t advance. Now is our chance. “He’s here, Seesha. Let’s go.” And then I turn toward the door, leaping forward as though I’m being chased. Her response stops me short. “No,” she says, settling on the chest of the frail Fae, smoothing her hands over the cheeks. “Merrick meet Ishka,” she says and the man bows to me. Then adds, “Your healers can heal this,” she says. “Merrick?” I hiss. “Yes, he’s a nice fellow. Your healers can heal this,” she repeats. I throw up my hands. I’ve come to save the Hum-Fairy that’s busy worrying after her captors. “Maybe,” I growl, begrudging the admission. “No, they can,” she says. “We will do this.” And then she shakes all over, filling the air with bell sounds. The child’s eyelids flutter, rasping only one word. “Merrick?” The kidnapper rushes forward, but stops when he bumps into me. He presses a scrap of paper into my palm before he kneels at the bedside. “You brought her?” The little girl breathes the words like a prayer and joy radiates off her. His face splits in a smile that rivals the sphere, and again my jaw slackens. His teeth, his eyes, he sparkles with mirth. I’m struck by the kindness in his face. He’s said nothing, only beamed at all of us. Something crinkles in my hand, and I glance down at the paper. In a harsh scrawl, I read, “I cannot speak; I was born without a tongue. Forgive my impertinence. My sister, Mol, has always wanted to see a Hum-Fairy. I was worried the blight would take her before she could. I am not practiced at communicating with Hum-Fairies. I will accept my punishment.” A rush of tears floods my eyes. Merrick was his sister’s hero, too, and I see Arún sitting at my bedside while the blight burned through my insides. I turn to my friend as she does loops in the air, to the delight of the child. “Seesha?” She stops her acrobatics long enough to telepath. “He explained it to me as we ran. I tried to relay the message, but I couldn’t reach you, you were too far behind. I am here of my own freewill.” Seesha sprinkles starflakes over Mol, and tiny fingers reach for the falling light. “Now Merrick cannot be justly exiled,” she says with a nod. And then she beams at us both. And I hear the next words as a whisper in my mind. “Night to your moon.” I plop into the lone chair at the roughhewn table, watching the three play, as ideas takes hold. Today might still be a day for saving. ### I smile at the politician as he travels through the Great Hall. His eyes widen at the sight of me. I’m not so dead as they all think. I glance sideways at Merrick and the little one beyond. Mol is dancing between the mid-day musicians, her face shows almost no trace of the blight. Her insides are like mine now, but today she plays, chasing after Seesha and Fesh. She begged the seamstresses for a dress like mine. My mother obliged. Merrick stayed by her bedside as the healers fought back death, conversing all the while with me on paper. I don’t pull away when he reaches for my hand. I squeeze his fingers when hope tiptoes through my heart. Merrick is so different than Arún, but they’re both heroes through-and-through. And maybe they’re rubbing off on me.  1) Tell us about your book (s) (or short story)
Life is finally shaping up for Trisha. For the first time, she’s with a foster family she doesn’t hate. Her new school is decent, and she even has a boyfriend. Until the night she finds herself waking up in the woods covered in blood, a bullet hole in her dress. Without her fae abilities, she’d be dead, but now the Faerie Council has given her an ultimatum. She has to help find an escaped fugitive, or be taken to Faerie, a place her missing mother told her horror stories about. Now, Trish has to keep her day job a secret from her foster parents, join forces with the ex-boyfriend who killed her, and hunt down a dangerous criminal before he comes into his powers. Should be a piece of cake. 2) Who is your main character? Tell us about them. Trisha Penchent has always known she was fae, but growing up on Earth, she feels more like a human.When the fae barge into her life, she has an interesting decision to make. Who is she really? 3) What is your favorite Fae myth or story? This probably isn't the best answer, but I absolutely love Maleficent. The movie was done so well, and the fae world is amazing. 4) The Fae. Helpful magical creatures? Or mischievous tricksters? Not really either, in Regen. More like elitists who believe thye are much better than humans. 5) What is your Fae elemental? Salamander (Fire) Undine (Water) Brownie (Earth) or Sylph (Air). In the world Regen is set in, the fae aren't tied to an element. But they do each have different gifts, like Trisha's regenerating. About the Author: I'm a book nerd from small town Ohio. Reading and horses are my two favorite things :) After my family, of course ;)  1) Tell us about your book (s) (or short story): Fires & Fairies: Sidelle never wanted to be a fairy princess. Sick of living as a royal, she longs for something more to satisfy her craving for adventure and her desire to see the world. Then a prisoner is thrown into the cells of the Summer Court’s castle. Finnegan is a Winter Fairy, a sworn enemy of Sidelle’s people. Yet opposites attract, and Sidelle can’t resist the challenge of cracking Finn’s cold exterior. Her attempts to break Finn’s walls ends up getting her into a situation that goes from bad to worse; the more she speaks with Finn, the more Sidelle finds herself falling in love. A forbidden romance develops between her and Finn, and their friendship turns into a love story between sun and snow that’s as star crossed as it is passionate. Then tragedy strikes, and Finn’s life is at stake. To save him, Sidelle has to make a life-changing sacrifice, one she will eternally regret and that will change her forevermore. 2) Who is your main character? Tell us about them: The entire story follows a Summer Fairy, named Sidelle. She's the daughter of King Oberon and sworn enemy of Winter. Unlike most other Summer Fairies, she despises balls, dancing, and dressing up. She wants/needs more in her life. Sidelle doesn't have many friends, instead choosing to run to the forest and be by herself most of the time. She's tall, thin and has long black hair. Her favorite color is green--to match her emerald eyes. Then someone comes into her life. She needs to get to know him, but then he breaks her heart and she's changed - - and can't ever go back to the docile Summer Princess. Instead, she goes on a mission to find a human girl. And somewhere along the way, she finds her true self and becomes the snark and witty Fairy we love who appears in the main series. A true friend is found in Zoe Jabril, the human she finds and vows to protect against evil. 3) What is your favorite Fae myth or story? My favorite, which got me writing Fires & Fairies novella was after reading The Iron King series and meeting its author, Julie Kagawa. Oh man, I loved that series. In fact, it's one of my go-to re-read books. I think I read the series at least once a year. 4) The Fae. Helpful magical creatures? Or mischievous tricksters? A little of both. I think depending on what you are and which court you live in. I always thought of Summer as nice and helpful fae and winter the bad and devious. But with all species there could be a bit of both in each. Isn't it fun playing games? Or pulling some harmless tricks on others? Sure it is! And who wouldn't want magic in their life? Whether that's magic by the wave of a wand or something drawn from within, or being/living in a circumstance that's so special it's magical. 5) What is your Fae elemental? Salamander (Fire) Undine (Water) Brownie (Earth) or Sylph (Air): I have to be an Undine (Water) element. I grew up on along the Mississippi River, spent summers at a cabin in northern Minnesota, and after I married, I found myself back on the River. I love water, whether it's swimming, floating, or just near it ... it soothes me.  USA Today bestseller, Amazon bestseller, and award-winning young adult author, Kristin D. Van Risseghem grew up in a small town along the Mississippi River. Currently, she lives in Minnesota with her husband and a Calico cat named Daizy. Kristin also loves attending book clubs, going shopping, and hanging out with friends. She has come to realize that she absolutely has an addiction to purses and shoes. They are her weakness and probably has way too many of both. In the summer months, Kristin can usually be found lounging on her boat, drinking an ice cold something. Being an avid reader of YA and Women’s Literature stories, she still finds time to read a ton of books in-between writing. And in the winter months, her main goal is to stay warm from the Minnesota cold! Kristin’s books are published by Kasian Publishing LLC.
Universal Amazon link: http://hyperurl.co/bmrzfs  1: About my Books:
My series, Enchanting the Fey begins with the story of Des, a feisty fashion photographer who, tempted by the idea of a mythical fairy-land, joins her would be assassin in discovering the past her mother was determined to keep hidden. She learns pretty quickly there was a reason for her mother’s secrecy. Trapped in the middle of an eons-old war between two feuding fey species, prophesized to defeat a demonic beast hell bent of killing them all, and pressure to unlock her so called power, wasn’t exactly what she expected. But it isn’t all bad, Jax is growing on her, and here in the fey world she has a family – all be it, a crazy one. Des has little time to decide; face a terrible battle in the new life she loves or flee to piece together the life she left behind. The sequel, Uniting the Fabled unveils a history of the fey not written on any scroll. The prophecies have been altered. The texts corrupted. Des will have to unite powerful creatures in order to save mankind all the while keeping the fey world hidden. Before reading the final instalment, Destroying the Fallen, read The Fall, a prequel that reveals the story of the bad guy. Because behind every villain is the dark that led them there. Do you dare to understand the dark? Destroying the Fallen will be the conclusion to Des’s story. She will have to put her body and mind on the line to save the ones she loves. But coming back from the edge of insanity might be harder than she expects, and deals made with demons rarely result in a positive outcome. In this final battle of wits and wills, can a fashionista from Sydney stand against the darkest of hells demons? 2: About my MC: Des isn’t exactly sweet as pie. She is feisty, fierce and a little crazy. Her mouth tends to get away from her too, which as you can imagine, doesn’t exactly put her on people’s good sides. But Des has real pain. After losing her mother, nothing felt or looked the same, and keeping her thoughts to herself suddenly became something she no longer cared to do. It cost her more than her job too, it landed her in the morgue. Luckily for her, she isn’t dead, and unlucky for the fey who wants to kill her, this fiery woman will stop at nothing to get what she wants, and right now, she wants to know who orchestrated her attack. 3: Favourite Fae myth or story: I love the story of Maleficent. She is a hero and a villain. A friend and a foe. She is the character who is most relatable and the most real. 4: The Fae. Helpful magical creatures or mischievous tricksters?: Both. The Fae are both magical creatures of light and are mischievous tricksters. They are like any other being, capable of both helping and harming those around them. 5: My Fae elemental: I believe I feel most connected with the earth and the Fae that dwell there. I have had a fear of fire and heights from when I was young and do not really like to swim. Happy to sit on the sand watching the waves rather than being immersed in them, I feel most at home under a tree, surrounded by the smell of the earth. |
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AuthorI AM AN AUTHOR, BLOGGER AND A JOURNALIST. “Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.” 
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