*Book Tour & Giveaway* The Unseelie Heir's Claim

 

A human servant who sees too much.

A lord cursed in a pitch-black maze.

A throne in crisis with a missing heir.

Welcome to the Courts in Conflict. 

The Unseelie Heir’s Claim

Courts in Conflict Book 3

by Elisa Rae

Genre: Light Fantasy Romance, Romantasy

The Unseelie throne is in crisis, and the whole Wild Wood is in an uproar as the hunt is on for the missing heir. Kent is aware of the news, and even the humans just beyond the borders of fae land have heard rumors. He didn’t think it had anything to do with him. But then he comes home to a Dullahan in his mother’s kitchen claiming Kent is the lost heir.

Rue doesn’t belong. Left on the doorstep of the foundling home as a baby, she only knows she has some fae blood. Now an adult, she hides her differences from the humans beneath a quiet demeanor. But that doesn’t stop her from seeing magical things, like a glowing crown on the head of her new friend.

The Unseelie Heir’s Claim is a light, fantasy romance novella about a relationship between an Unseelie and a fae of mixed blood. It features a reluctant lost heir, fated mates, and a romance between a noble and a servant, all played out against a backdrop of the peril, politics, and uncertainty of the Unseelie Court in crisis.

 

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Rue

 

 Leaning forward, Kent rested his folded forearms on the tabletop. “My turn. Why were you so upset at the sight of a human child in my arms?”

Greyson nodded as though he had expected the question. “There has been an increased trade in human child abduction among the Unseelie, and I feared you allied with the smugglers supplying children to the slavers.”

“I thought the fae had banned human slavery.” 

“They have.” Greyson’s mouth tightened as his brows lowered in a great frown. “But outlawing a behavior and preventing illegal practices are two different things.”

“Why does it matter to you?” I asked because it clearly did. His anger as he had realized Mela’s species struck me as fierce and genuine. “You are fae. Every fae I have encountered couldn’t care less about humans.”

“Not every fae,” Kent inserted.

I sighed. “I didn’t mean you.”

“Words matter,” he protested.

“They do. And binding words even more.” Leveling an annoyed glance at him, I pressed my lips together.

“Those words, I meant them.”

“No more bindings. I told you,” I shot back.

Kent attempted to appear at least a bit repentant. “I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.”

“And what impression would that be?” I asked. “That we are bound more tightly than we are?” The implications of a binding made me uncomfortable after being on my own for so long. 

Before Mela, no one cared about what happened to me; no one depended on me, and I had learned to accept that. 

Then Mela arrived at the foundling home. Her needing me had been a drastic change in my life. She’d needed care and love, and I knew Mistress Prout wouldn’t offer that. So, I stepped in and provided what Mela needed. 

To my complete surprise, Mela loved me in return. I had grown comfortable with that arrangement, and then Kent—I shook away the thought. We were bound now, and although I wasn’t sure I liked it, I needed to accept it and move forward.

The Fae King’s Labyrinth

Courts in Conflict Book 2

Someone stole Azulin’s true name. Cursed to ride with the Wild Hunt during each full moon, he is helpless against the Unseelie king’s will. Over the years, the curse’s grip has strengthened, making Azulin’s magic difficult to control. Fighting the curse has exhausted his spirit to the point that he despairs of breaking its hold on him. Then one full moon, the curse places him in a labyrinth, not a hunt. Perhaps this is his chance, or maybe just a new form of torture.

Calypso is a shapeshifter who can’t change form. Living as an unpaid caregiver and laborer in her sister’s household, her presence is barely tolerated in their insular community. When a strange fae threatens her pregnant sister, Calypso sacrifices herself. Perhaps an honorable death would give her life purpose. Instead, she ended up fighting for her life in a pitch-black labyrinth.

The Fae King’s Labyrinth is a light, fantasy romance novella about a relationship between a Seelie fae and a mortal woman. It features fae, found family, fated mates, and a romance between a noble and a commoner, played out in a perilous maze and an equally dangerous fae court.

 

 

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The Unseelie's Wallflower

Courts in Conflict Book 1

Greyson hides many things from the Unseelie Court when they invade his estate each autumn for the Wild Hunt. During his required appearance as host, he is surprised to find a human among the glittering fae. She can see him even when he is using his stealth magic, which means only one thing—they are soul mates. Can he protect her amidst the swirl of fae politics and a plot against her life?

Lyra has grown up among the fae. She has been trained to be the perfect servant. Then her master brings her to the Unseelie Court event of the year and demands she demonstrate her skills to nobles. With the promise of freedom as a motivator, she willingly agrees. Then she realizes her master’s true plan thanks to the intimidating fae lord hosting the event. Though why he would be invested in her fate is a mystery.

The Unseelie’s Wallflower is a light, fantasy romance novella about a relationship between an Unseelie and a human woman. It features faes, fated mates, and a romance between a noble and a servant, all played out against a backdrop of the peril, politics, and maneuverings of the Unseelie Court.

  

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A reader of fairytales and folklore, Elisa Rae loves a happy ending. Noblebright characters, dastardly villains, and chemistry between characters delight her. When she isn’t writing, she loves to watch superhero movies and literary dramas.

Elisa Rae is the pen name of Rachel Rossano.

 

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*Book Blitz & Giveaway* Shadow Stalker

 

Hunted by an empire, haunted by prophecy—

Auren's power could save or destroy the world.

Shadow Stalker - Episodes 1-6

Shadow Stalker Bundles Part 1

by Renee Scattergood

Genre: Grimdark Fantasy

"This is the first time I’ve read a serial and I didn’t know what to expect. I was pulled into the story right away. The pacing was cleverly crafted so that while the action had the pages turning, there was enough back story to keep you rooted in the plot." ~ Melissa Barker-Simpson, Author of the Morgan and Fairchild Series

"Scattergood's writing style is simple and straightforward and her characters very believable." ~ Grant Leishman, Author of Tortured Minds

"One of the best things about the series are the characters, who are human and sympathetic. The heroine is both a tough, capable young woman, and a naive and self-centered teenager; the tension between the two sides of her personality as she is suddenly forced to leave childhood behind and enter into adulthood is often well-captured, as is her ambivalent relationship with her foster father." ~ E.P. Clark, Author of The Zemnian Trilogy

“Hunted by an empire, haunted by prophecy—Auren’s power could save or destroy the world.”

The shadows are calling—and they know her name.

For eighteen years, Auren Trask has lived under the watchful eye of her foster father, Kado. He’s trained her in combat, wilderness survival, and strategy, but never explained why. His strict rules and secrecy have left her feeling trapped, desperate for freedom and a normal life with her friends.

That all changes the night she sneaks away for a simple camping trip. When the Galvadi Empire invades, burning villages and capturing innocents, Auren’s world shatters. She and her friends barely escape with their lives—thanks to Kado’s sudden appearance and skills that suggest he’s far more than a reclusive courier.

As the Galvadi tighten their grip on the Serpent Isles, Auren discovers she is at the center of a prophecy that has haunted the empire for generations. She is the delohi-saqu, a shadow stalker destined—according to Galvadi belief—to plunge the world into darkness. To stop that future, they will hunt her without mercy.

But the truth is far more dangerous than the Galvadi know. Auren’s powers are awakening, shadows whisper secrets in her dreams, and even Kado can no longer shield her from the path ahead. To survive, she must confront the terrifying legacy of the shadow stalkers and decide whether destiny is a prison…or a weapon.

Shadow Stalker Part 1 (Episodes 1–6) launches Renee Scattergood’s dark fantasy serial, a journey through treachery, prophecy, and the struggle between fear and hope. Perfect for fans of epic adventure, morally complex heroes, and worlds where light and darkness are never simple.

 

**Get it FREE!!**

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Episode 2 — The Delohi-Saqu's Fate

Chapter 1 | Something in the darkness

I tried to think of something else, but my mind went blank. Looking around, I suddenly grew agitated at not being able to see anything. If I didn't keep my mind occupied, I'd risk a panic attack. All I could think about was the darkness and how much I wanted to get out. I was about to scream in frustration again when I heard pebbles crunch.

"Who's there?"

No one answered.

It was just my imagination, I told myself, until something cold and wet brushed my neck. The thing sniffed at me, sending shivers through my body that had nothing to do with the cool, damp air. I gasped and stiffened. My first instinct was to move away as fast as possible, but my training took over. I slowed my breathing and held myself as still as I could. Yet my heart pounded uncontrollably, and I would have sworn the sound echoed off the cavern walls.

It sniffed me again, nudging my face with its nose and emitting a low, guttural growl. Its foul breath suggested it had eaten recently, so it likely wouldn't be hungry for a while. If it had meant to harm me, it probably would have by now. But what was its purpose? And how did it get here? I tried to move away, but it growled and pushed me forcefully with its head. When I remained still, it clamped its jaws on my arm and started dragging me along the floor.

"Let me go!" I cried, punching the animal's thick fur.

It yelped and snapped at my hand. I scooted away as fast as I could, but it grabbed my arm again and pulled me the other way. This time, it dragged me along on my knees. To keep from falling forward, I had no choice but to go where it wanted me to go. It didn't let go until we reached the stream. Then it nudged me a couple of times towards the water.

"What do you want with me?"

I shook my head. Now I was talking to an animal, as though it would answer. I tried to back away again, but it snarled and clamped down on my ankle. Though it didn't bite me hard, I cried out. It didn't let go until I stopped fighting, and I curled into a ball, hoping to wake from this crazy nightmare.

The lapping water beside me distracted me from my panic attack. The animal nudged me, then resumed drinking. Suddenly, all I heard was the stream gurgling. Although I was, in effect, blind, I knew I was alone. Whatever that thing was, it seemed to vanish as quickly and quietly as it had appeared. To be sure it had gone, I cautiously reached into the space it had occupied moments earlier. It wasn't there, so I listened for pebbles crunching on the rock floor.

"Huh."

Was it all just my imagination? Given that studies indicate hallucinations can start within fifteen minutes of sensory deprivation, and cognitive functions could be affected within hours, it wasn't an unreasonable conclusion. I had no idea how long I had been here, but it must have been at least an hour or two.

I rubbed the welts on my arm where the animal's teeth had raked my skin. For now, I could dismiss any thoughts of insanity. Something had been down there with me. But where did it go? The stream's murmuring sounded louder now, perhaps because I had nothing else to concentrate on. Or maybe it was simply because I realised my throat was parched. I leaned over the water and cupped my hand to drink.

The flavour was unlike anything I had ever tasted, and it left me wondering if it was water at all. It didn't matter. With each sip, I wanted—no, I needed—more. My hand was too small to hold enough to satisfy me, so I put my face to the surface and sucked it in. I gasped for air and noticed the cavern had grown warmer. Even stranger, a faint, odd glow surrounded me.

Now I must have been hallucinating. A greenish mist enveloped me, and shadows moved in the distance. They resembled the shadow people I remembered from my youth. I tried to push myself up, only to realise I was already standing. Huh! Believing I had somehow died, I looked down at where my body should be, expecting to see my lifeless form. But there was nothing—not even the stream.

Renee Scattergood lives in Australia with her husband, Nathan, and adult spawn (yes, that’s what they like to be called). She has always loved fantasy and was inspired to become a storyteller by George Lucas, but she didn't start writing her stories until her late twenties. Now she enjoys writing dark fantasy. She is currently working on a novel series, Shadow Guardians of the Serpent Isles, based on her serial, Shadow Stalker, and a new series called The Emperor’s Blades. Aside from writing, she loves reading (fantasy, of course), watching movies with her family, and watching YouTube Videos with her spawn. Visit her site for more information and a free copy of Shadow Stalker Part 1 (Episodes 1 – 6): https://reneescattergood.au

 

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*Book Tour & Giveaway* One Fall Day

 

Big-city critique meets small-town charm

—and it's love at first bite.

One Fall Day

River Valley Seasons Book 1

by Rachel Matthews

Genre: Slow-Burn Contemporary Small Town Romance

Manhattan food critic Valentina Aragon knows a good meal when she tastes it, and she never expected small-town River Valley to fall onto her plate. Her mentor insists it's a working retreat to recharge her creativity. But between the chilly days and the warmest people she's ever met, the town starts to feel less like a temporary stay and more like home. Too bad the one man she clashes with is the one who knows this town best.

Brandon Scott doesn't need love cluttering a life already full. But the inn's newest guest is impossible to ignore, even after he puts his foot in his mouth when she first arrives. When an opportunity to make things right lands in his lap, he takes it...and keeps taking it, one fall day at a time.

Acquaintances become friends, friends become something more, and when a figure from Brandon's past threatens the future he never saw coming, the whole town rallies to protect what matters most.

Cozy comforts inside: slow-burn sweetness, community heart, and a fall romance you'll want to curl up with.

 

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Rachel Matthews is a wife, daughter, crocheter, artist & dreamer all rolled into one. She’s dreamed of writing ever since she was little and now enjoys penning them for readers all around the world. Part mermaid and part stuffed animal wrangler, she currently lives in San Diego where she is fighting an addiction to the beach and enjoying spending time with her loving romantic hero husband.

 

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*Book Tour & Giveaway* The Gyre

 

An atmospheric journey into the far northern wilds, THE GYRE spins one man’s search for meaning into an astonishing saga where adventure, folklore, and the Arctic converge.

The Gyre

by Stacy Carlson

Genre: Literary Fiction, Dark Arctic Survival, Slavic Magical Realism

***Winner of the Electric Book Award***

An atmospheric journey into the far northern wilds, THE GYRE spins one man’s search for meaning into an astonishing saga where adventure, folklore, and the Arctic converge.

Arkady Afanasyev is a nineteenth-century Russian monk who aims to be the northernmost holy man in the world when he hitches a ride to Spitsbergen, a remote island considered by most to be a no man’s land. As he struggles across the tundra, he’s haunted by regret, a long-lost family, and a chorus of Orthodox saints and Slavic pagan tricksters including hearth spirits, sea demons, and the Twelve Sisters of Scurvy. Amid their uncanny influence and the great, turning, harsh natural world, Arkady is brutally and deeply transformed.

 

Content Warning: language (mild), loss of faith, alcohol consumption (mild), cannibalism (mild), violence, gore, starvation, animal death, animal attacks, death, amputation, complications in childbirth, kidnapping (mild).

 

What readers are saying about the book:

“Stacy Carlson has written an enthralling story of flawed, fragile humanity and the uncanny redemptive power of nature at its most brutal. The Gyre is a journey through a stark, glittering wilderness, an unforgettable landscape both terrible and holy in equal measure.”
—Lynn Coady, Giller Prize-winning author of Hellgoing

 

“Mythic journeys, fairy tales of ice and snow, sailors’ vodka-addled and lusty dreams, a monk’s poetic yearnings—The Gyre has it all! As we follow Arkady Afanasyev on his journey into the farthest reaches of the Arctic in search of his teacher and himself, we encounter story upon story strung together, like pearls, showing us how we are connected to the water, the ice, the ground, the light, and each other. The Gyre pulls you in and in and into its profoundly beautiful spiral of a story.”
—Kathryn Nuernberger, author of Held: Essays in Belonging

 

“This is an absolutely astonishing saga, packed at every turn with innumerable tangential sagas of survival, magic, incomprehensible courage and persistence, and—always—the great, turning, harsh natural world. It zooms the reader to a long ago and far away universe of struggle, quest, agony, and enchantment. Fearlessly imagined and capably written, Stacy Carlson has created a particular, complex, and searingly unforgettable mythology.”
—Joan Frank, author of Juniper Street: A Novel

 

“A gripping novel—both a rip-roaring yarn and a deep inquiry into what makes us human. Like a Caspar David Friedrich painting, Carlson’s The Gyre places the human against the immense backdrop of an unforgiving landscape—here, the high-Arctic archipelago of Svalbard—with dazzling results.”
—Colin Dickey, author of Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places and Afterlives of the Saints

 

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From Chapter 17

 

In the morning, Arkady tucks his flint, steel, and tinderbox into the pocket of his coat, which now he wears continuously, fully buttoned, day and night. He packs up the rest of his camp and ponders the mossy indentation that represents his earthly form.

Truly, it is better to fast than to starve. What else can we humans do but exert our puny will and, by the contours of our effort, see the framework upon which the universe is draped? What else can we do? My earthly husk is hungry, though my spirit still feeds.

The clouds have retreated to the sky’s upper reaches, and an elongated sunrise stretches a pale arm across the horizon. This triggers a strange glow over the tundra plain: a variegated chorus of green and stone.

Arkady moves on. He crosses a subtle point of land that ebbs into a narrow beach. Here, the stones reveal the outflow of a stream, whose course has eroded a rift in the mountain. Far above, Arkady hears but cannot see a waterfall. He drinks from the stream.

Foxes follow ice bears. That is their way. Foxes can hunt on their own, of course, but here on Spitsbergen mostly they follow bears out onto the ice. Arkady cannot say that foxes have faith, though his grandfather might have said so. But foxes operate on the promise of left-behind blood and entrails. Foxes follow ice bears. But this one follows Arkady.

As he drinks he watches the fox pick a delicate way across the wet ground.

“The animals live by rules unknown to us. Mysterious rules, little one. Rules we could learn from. If you are going to be wise about things, which I know you shall, you will keep your mind open to the very different rules of the four- and two-legged creatures of the earth. Do you hear?” His grandfather’s voice is so close.

Arkady walks for some time, then turns on his heel and kneels with one arm outstretched. He extends one quarter of one dried fish (a full eighth of his last remaining food) southward and waits. The fox edges up, sniffs the savory tidbit, bares his fangs, and plucks the torn fish from where Arkady has set it on the stones. The animal growls and retreats with the morsel.

From behind a driftwood log, the girl-saint Vasilissa frowns, confused by the human’s kindness. Each night when the fox comes to her to sleep with its tail curled luxuriously at her neck, she feels its ribs poking a little closer to the surface of its body. All night she hugs the animal tightly and watches flat, gray clouds drift overhead. With the animal close to her, she is part of this immense place; she creeps, hides, and persists just like the delicate purple saxifrage blossoms she saw when she first arrived on the island. With the animal near her, she is stronger. By loving it, she is somehow more able to consider helping the human, although for now, she does not.

The tundra plain extends its wide palm along the coast, and Arkady trudges in a daze of hunger through the afternoon. His prayers only skim the surface of things, and he can’t shake the feeling that his grandfather is walking just behind his right shoulder. Instead of a comfort, though, the presence unhinges Arkady’s composure so that, for two hours, he can’t keep from looking over his shoulder every few minutes.

Once, when he turns, the fox is following closely behind him, and, using some of his small store of willpower, Arkady tears off a second chunk of dried fish. This time the fox takes it directly from his hand. Walking on, Arkady sucks his fingers for the salty residue. Then, he unwraps his prayer rope from around his wrist and slips it into his pocket.

The third time he offers the fox a piece of fish, Arkady trembles with hunger. Vasilissa watches from the slope just above them. The fox will not go completely hungry today, and she is glad. She decides she will flag down the next patron saint. The human deserves a kindness in return for this one. Below her, by the curve of a stream, the fox plucks the last of the fish from Arkady’s outstretched left hand, and, quick as he can, Arkady grabs the animal by the throat with his other, gloved hand and holds on. He’s decided he can bear the animal’s claws but probably not its teeth.

Arkady will never forget the way the fox fought for its life. It drew both its hind legs close to its body and thrust them at Arkady again and again, faster than he thought possible, with its claws outstretched. It used these powerful tools to shred the wool in one section of Arkady’s coat and to gash the skin of his right hand and wrist, and once even his face, as he fought to secure those legs. The fox writhed and used its front claws as shield and sword both, but a man’s arms are longer than a fox’s reach, and when a creature is gripped by the throat, it is difficult to persevere. After he secures the hind legs, Arkady shuffles on his knees to the bank of the stream and plunges the fox into the icy water. Unfortunately for the fox, the water is just deep enough, and Arkady’s hunger just strong enough, for the man to succeed.

Vasilissa watches Arkady struggling with the fox and gradually understands she is watching a battle to the death. Her sight periscopes back and upward until she is a cloud observing a tiny diorama far below. But when the human finally raises the fox’s limp and dripping form, the whole scene collapses in on itself, and she goes blind with rage. Then, inevitably, the pain unto death blooms into something else: She is no longer a little girl. She is a figment, a force, and a bright, small terror adrift in time. This knowledge fills her mind and heart, and her rage fades as suddenly as it arose, and she is back in a stark northern land, kneeling on a cushion of intricate moss filaments, clenching her fists.

Vasilissa rises and turns from the human world, because she can. She glides over the ground. She continues up the scree slope, away from Arkady and his pathetic travails.  Vasilissa will be folded into the mysteries of Spitsbergen, comforted by the crags, and nourished by endless plains of ice and stone. In some future form, she will emerge from this sanctuary, but for now, she disappears.

STACY CARLSON is a novelist, naturalist, and educator. Publishers Weekly called her debut novel, Among the Wonderful, “Intelligent, engrossing, and utterly unique.” Stacy’s essays and fiction have appeared in Tin House, Post Road, Inkwell, and elsewhere, and she has received fellowships and residencies from the Mesa Refuge, The Arctic Circle, Djerassi Resident Artists Program, and Signal Fire. Her background includes work as a historical ecologist, fish cannery worker, hot springs caretaker, and hiking guide in Big Sur. She grew up between mountains and sea in the Pacific Northwest and has lived in New England, New York, Northern California, and the Upper Midwest.

 

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