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Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: The Sergeant’s Lady and A Marriage of Inconvenience, by Susanna Fraser

It is my distinct pleasure to feature Susanna Fraser on Boosting the Signal today. Some of you may have seen me post about Susanna before, since she’s a fellow Carina Press author–and she’s also one of the authors that falls squarely into the somewhat narrow bracket of historical romances I like to read! I have read both of the books we’ll be featuring today, Regency-era romances, and was very pleased to learn in particular that Susanna is a fellow Browncoat. If you check out The Sergeant’s Lady, see if you can spot the same Firefly reference I did!

Also–be advised that A Marriage of Inconvenience actually is a prequel to The Sergeant’s Lady, even though it came out later. So I’d recommend reading them in reverse order.

And without further ado, here’s Anna Wright-Gordon, the sister of the hero of A Marriage of Inconvenience. At the halfway point of her brother’s story, she has a complaint!

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The Sergeant's Lady

The Sergeant’s Lady

My brother James likes to think he knows everything. When I was younger, I believed it was true. Of course to a little girl of 5, a 10-year-old brother, especially a kind and affectionate one, will seem quite splendid and wise. He taught me my letters and gave me my first riding lessons on his old pony, years before Papa thought I was ready.

But I’m 19 now, and he still cannot accept that I’m a grown woman who knows her own mind and heart. He thinks I am mad to marry Sebastian Arrington on so short an acquaintance, that I cannot truly know him. Well, I know enough! I know that he is nothing like any other man I know. He is neither frivolous youth nor callous rake, which is enough to set him apart from most of the gentlemen who attempted to court me during my Season. Sebastian is serious, even grave, and the way he watches me, so hungry and fascinated and almost worshipful, makes me feel honored and cherished in a way I’ve never experienced before.

James himself said I should marry an officer, a diplomat, or a politician–someone whose career I can help to advance. I don’t know how he can complain when I am only following his advice. And it’s all very well of him to say that if Sebastian and I truly love each other, we would be willing to wait a year or two. Has he forgotten that we are at war, and that Sebastian must return to his regiment on the Peninsula next month? Surely James knows how short and uncertain life is. What if Sebastian…dies, and we never had the chance to live together as husband and wife?

A Marriage of Inconvenience

A Marriage of Inconvenience

And I know something about James that he has yet to discover: he is going to marry Sebastian’s cousin Lucy Jones. I don’t think he even realizes how he watches her every time she enters the room, nor how he spends more time at her side than with anyone else. But I do, and so do our aunt and uncle. They think that James could do better than to marry a poor relation with no fortune at all. Yet while it’s true that he could, James’s own fortune is so large that he doesn’t need a wife with money, so I think he should choose a woman who will make him happy. And Miss Jones will. He needs someone with her peace, quietness, and calm, or he will never develop any of those qualities himself.

Best of all, once he marries Lucy and I marry Sebastian, our families will be doubly connected, and we will be so much in each other’s company. No matter how much James exasperates me, I don’t want to drift apart from him now that we are both grown. He is the best of brothers, after all. I’ll never forget the pony.

You can read James’s story in A Marriage of Inconvenience, and Anna’s further adventures are found in The Sergeant’s Lady.

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Buy The Sergeant’s Lady: Carina Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

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Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: Much Ado in Montana, by M.M. Justus

M.M. Justus is a fellow indie writer in the Pacific Northwest, who has a line of time-travel related romances she’s been deploying for sale. Much Ado in Montana, however, is her first contemporary!

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Much Ado in Montana

Much Ado in Montana

Hello, folks. I’m Dr. Swanson, or, as most folks here in Campbell, Montana, call me, Dr. Samuel. I’ve been the doctor here for donkey’s years–since, well, for longer than most people can remember. Campbell’s not a big place, or a fancy one, and we’re pretty much out in the back of beyond. As the young people are fond of complaining, we’re a two-hour drive from the nearest mall. But we’re smack in the middle of God’s country, surrounded by wilderness, with the snowcapped Cabinet Mountains watching over us, and there’s no better place to be.

Kalispell’s where that mall is, not that anyone with any sense cares. It’s where the nearest hospital is, too. So when it comes to medical care, I’m the only horse in town.

Like I said, I love it here. My wife grew up here, and my son, and I wouldn’t go anywhere else. People here in Campbell are the salt of the earth, and I’ve loved doctoring ’em for, well, donkey’s years.

My son Timothy, on the other hand…

He went off to Seattle to the University of Washington to go to medical school, just like his old man, and graduated with honors. I couldn’t be more proud of him. I couldn’t wait for him to come back home and work with me, and take over my practice someday.

But as soon as he saw the bright lights of Seattle, he told me he didn’t want to come back. He’s young, and smart, and he can work anywhere he wants to. He needed some time to get the wanderlust out of his system.

But the thing is, I’m getting old. And no one who hasn’t grown up here is going to stick. We found that one out the hard way. And I’m pretty sure–no, I’m not going to pussyfoot around it–I know there’s something wrong. I can’t remember like I used to. Things happen and I can’t figure out how. Sometimes I’m not even sure how I got somewhere. My lovely Avis is worried about me, too, and I can’t do that to her.

But I can’t leave the good people of Campbell without a doctor, either.

Tim’s coming home for my seventy-fifth birthday party in a few weeks. I can’t wait to see him, and I’m not the only one. His buddy Jack, who teaches science at the high school and spends his summers out in eastern Montana digging dinosaur bones, has been telling everyone how much he’s looking forward to seeing Tim again, too. So have most of the girls in town, from what I understand, except for little Becky Thorstein, but then she’s sweet on Jack. Well, Tim is a handsome young man. Takes after his father that way, he does.

What was I saying? Yes? Oh, yes. The girls and Tim. I know one girl in particular who’s got to be looking forward to seeing him again–our pretty young town librarian, Tara Hillerman.

They’ve been sweet on each other all their lives, but something happened while they were both away at college. No one would ever tell me what. I suppose they thought it wasn’t any of my business, but whatever it was it must have caused a world of hurt.

Well, it’s time for them to kiss and make up. It’s time for Timothy to settle down. There’s nowhere else he should be doing it. And, I bet, no one but Tara he’d want to do it with.

What was I saying? Oh. Well, he does want to come home, you know. He just doesn’t know it yet.

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Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: Wreck of the Nebula Dream, by Veronica Scott

Veronica Scott is one of my fellow authors from the Here Be Magic crowd at Carina Press! She writes the Egyptian Gods series for Carina, but she’s also got some indie work, and this post is about one of those! Wreck of the Nebula Dream is SF adventure with a side helping of romance, and if you’re a fan of the lore of the Titanic sinking, you may well find this book to your tastes–because it draws a lot of inspiration from that. This book won awards in 2013, and got a lot of highly favorable commentary from the SFR (science fiction romance) community.

You don’t need to stretch much to figure out what her hero’s goal is in this story: save lives. Check it out!

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Wreck of the Nebula Dream

Wreck of the Nebula Dream

Captain Nick Jameson, Sectors Special Forces, reporting as ordered for the interview. I don’t usually talk about that time on the Nebula Dream–I think pretty much everyone in the Sectors knows the story of how she was the newest, most luxurious spaceliner ever built, destroyed on her maiden voyage, with a huge loss of life. I happened to be the right guy, in the wrong place – what was a solder like me doing hobnobbing with the rich and high powered on such a ship, you may ask? Asked myself that, more than once on the first few days of the voyage. Usually when I was getting drunk in my cabin, trying to blot out the memories of my last disaster of a mission. If the ship’s Second Officer hadn’t given me a tour, trying to impress me with the new tech, if I hadn’t met Mara Lyrae, first on the shuttle and then again in the Casino…well, I might have opted for finishing the trip in cryo sleep and then where would we all be? Dead or worse, that’s where.

Mara’s pretty amazing. She was a Vice President for Loxton Galactic Shipping at the time, doing big business deals, wheeling and dealing across the Sectors. But the moment the ship was in trouble, she was right there, brave as any soldier I ever served with, ready to do what had to be done to save lives. I tried to get her off in a lifeboat right after the crash but she wasn’t having any of that, no, sir. Mara is stubborn. There were some kids trapped in a cabin close to hers up on the next level and she wasn’t leaving the Nebula Dream without them. We had some pretty tense moments rescuing them, let me tell you.

Couldn’t have done it without Khevan, member of the D’nvannae Brotherhood. He’s just as scary smart and strong as the legends say those guys are, with a healthy dose of spooky stuff going on between him and the Red Lady his order serves. I don’t know if she’s a goddess or an alien or what she is, but she came through when we needed her. Of course then she tried to kill poor Khevan because she was mad at him but that’s another story. Talk to him about that.

Then there was Twilka, the Socialite. I gotta say I thought Twilka was going to be dead weight for my little group. Worse than the two kids! Spoiled rich girl, totally in her own version of reality, went off looking for her jewelry when we had to risk going down into the hold to find some gear I needed. But, she did pull her weight later when events demanded she step up. I’ve got no complaints about her and if she ever needs my help, I’ll be there.

Lady Damais? I uh, I still can’t talk about her, not in any detail. What she did for me, for all of us that night on the Nebula Dream, well, there are no words. I know she was an old lady, pretty ill by all the signs, but she had more guts than many a soldier I’ve served with.

So those were the people I was directly responsible for, while we were running around the Nebula Dream that night. The AI was trying to hold her together for me, maintain air and artificial gravity levels where I needed to be. My challenges? Find my gear, call for help, keep us alive till help arrived, fight off the enemy forces that showed up, ask Mara to have dinner with me if we actually did survive…yeah, long night. Not to mention various other surprises and developments that kept getting thrown at us. If only there’d been enough lifeboats. Lot of “if only” about the wreck.

Later some reporter told me about a shipwreck in ancient times, on Old Earth, where a lot of good people didn’t make it either. The Titanic, I think? Looked it up one day, sounds like her officers and a lot of brave people did the best they could too, against overwhelming circumstances. Freezing ocean or freezing outer space, innocent men, women and children in harm’s way, too many lost.

The story for WRECK OF THE NEBULA DREAM, a 2013 SFR Galaxy Award and Laurel Wreath Winner:

Traveling unexpectedly aboard the luxury liner Nebula Dream on its maiden voyage across the galaxy, Sectors Special Forces Captain Nick Jameson is ready for ten relaxing days, and hoping to forget his last disastrous mission behind enemy lines. All his plans vaporize when the ship suffers a wreck of Titanic proportions. Captain and crew abandon ship, leaving the 8000 passengers stranded without enough lifeboats and drifting unarmed in enemy territory. Aided by Mara, Nick must find a way off the doomed ship for himself and other innocent people before deadly enemy forces reach them or the ship’s malfunctioning engines finish ticking down to self destruction.

But can Nick conquer the demons from his past that tell him he’ll fail these innocent people just as he failed to save his Special Forces team? Will he outpace his own doubts to win this vital race against time?

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Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: Angel on the Ropes, by Jill Shultz

Jill Shultz is a fellow member of the Outer Alliance mailing list I’m on, which is a mailing list for authors in support of QUILTBAG speculative fiction. Jill’s book is science fiction, all about how a trapeze artist leads a perilous double life. Will her secret–and her choices–save her planet, or ruin it?

Jill’s submission for Boosting the Signal today is an excerpt straight out of the book, which conveniently addresses the theme of character goals!

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Angel on the Ropes

Angel on the Ropes

My stomach quivered as the train settled onto the station, the last stop before the circus. I cued my music and closed my eyes, mentally running through my routine again.

What if I’m not good enough?

I glanced at Elsbith, who’d chosen to be my mother against all common sense. She held my hand without talking and for once I was grateful that Seekers kept silence in their pockets, next to the tissues. A legacy of our Earth Quaker ancestry.

I took a deep breath.

I will be great.

But even if I amazed them, would they let a leopard into the troupe?

That question plagued me as we entered the tent, as I took off my makeup—a test of trust—and as I peeked through the curtains. It didn’t stop until I took my mark.

I flipped up onto the trapeze bar, then rolled backwards into a full split. Still upside down, I hooked the rope with the back of my knee, struck a gazelle-like pose, and rotated around the rope, letting the round melody flow through me. The air was warmer up here, and silkier—from the spotlight? I wanted to scoop up two delicious armfuls and never let them go.

For several moves I worked from one rope to the other, swinging from horizontal to vertical and back, feet never touching the bar. Gradually, the music tightened and I brought both feet to the trapeze, facing front. Now more instruments rushed in. My pulse kicked.

My first big move.

I tipped down into an arabesque so deep my forehead swung toward the bar. At the last second I somersaulted forward and caught the bar between my legs, then kicked out and pinwheeled around the trapeze, chest high, legs as long and straight as a ballerina’s as I spun. Around and around, not a wobble left or right. My heart surged each time my head swung down. Five more times, feet still in perfect pointe. A howl swelled in my throat. After a dozen pinwheels, I stopped. The audience clapped, the sound reverberating in my chest like a second heartbeat, speeding my own. I moved sideways on the bar, but not far enough, and had to scootch to position myself correctly. Sloppy, I thought, wincing. The next trick was cleaner, the three after that as good as I could make them, with minimal hand traffic. I slipped into a layback, turning my face to the crowd as I touched my foot to my head, flashing them a smile.

I could’ve stayed like that all day. How could it be over this soon? I jumped backwards off the trapeze and landed neatly. Chest heaving, I stepped out of the spotlight toward the front of the stage, squinting as I sought out Squirrelman Jim. Was that a nod? Sweet Light, please let it be.

There were three kids in leotards seated behind him. What were they doing there?

The training vid disappeared. Not the kids. Real. Real kids, not holos. My breath backed up in my throat. Even at this distance, they’d see I was a leopard, my white eyebrow bright as a signal flag. I felt like the dowels had been blown out of my joints, leaving one bone perched precariously on the other.

Squirrelman waved impatiently at me.

I was supposed to trust him. Completely. If I joined Cristallo, I’d have to put my life in other people’s hands.

The flying part of my audition might be over, but the leopard still had to pass.

I couldn’t move. My shoulders and neck clenched, pulsing an ache into the sockets of my jaw. Sweat chilled on my body. Part of me wanted to disappear and part wanted to fight and part wanted my mother to walk in and fix everything, the way she always did, with that magic I hoped I’d develop if I ever became a good enough Seeker.

Under the heat of three stares I started up the aisle, heart slapping. The smaller girl’s face was pinched and red. The tall girl’s face was perfect, exactly what I would have picked for myself. My right calf tensed so hard it almost charley-horsed. I’d never felt so ugly in my life.

“Freak.” The short girl’s nostril riffled.

The tall girl rolled her eyes. “Just once, Destiny—”

“Beena, let be,” said the boy.

I took a deep breath. There is Light in her, I thought. Reach it and anything is possible. I swallowed hard.

“What are you doing here?” Destiny asked me.

“Dreaming. Same like you?”

“Nothing like me.”

“That’s right,” Beena said, leaning back into a pose that was both jazzy and regal. “She’s good.”

The boy jumped to his feet and held out his hand. “Better than good. That was kushti.” His eyes sparkled. “I’m Jango.”

I shook his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel mine tremble. Jango held my hand a little longer than was polite—trying to prove he wasn’t afraid to touch a leopard?

“Got to go,” I said, tilting my head toward the coach.

When I was standing in front of him, Squirrelman said, “Well done, Amandine. And welcome to Cristallo.”

“What?” yelled Destiny. “This is some kind of joke, right? Because you’d never risk Cristallo for a—a—” She glowered at the floor. “We’re adding a freak show? That’s so lubberly. And isn’t it dangerous? What if the Plaguellants found out it was for real?”

You have nothing to fear,” he replied.

The breath trapped in my mouth turned hot and nasty. I didn’t want to cause them any trouble. I just wanted to fly.

“Destiny,” Squirrelman whispered, making her look up. “This is what circus is all about. To do more than others can even dream, you must care more—and risk more—than they dare.

“And that’s why I want you to help us create a haven.”

Haven? I frowned. I already had one, and it wasn’t what you’d think.

But nothing would stop me from flying.

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Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: Blades of the Old Empire followup

If you’ve been following the Boosting the Signal posts, you’ll have seen one of the first two that went up a few weeks ago: the post for Blades of the Old Empire by Anna Kashina.

Anna ran into a very unfortunate problem with her book’s release–the discovery that a critical chapter towards the end was missing!

She’s asked me to spread the word now though that her publisher, Angry Robot, has swiftly addressed the problem. Corrected print copies have shipped out to retailers, and the electronic editions deployed for sale should now also be fixed. So if you were considering checking the book out and hadn’t yet, you should be able to get the properly updated version now. (And I encourage you to go buy it directly from Angry Robot if you can, right over here, to support their delicious DRM-free goodness!)

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: The Guardian’s Witch, by Ruth A. Casie

Ruth A. Casie is one of my fellow authors at Carina Press! She writes paranormal romance, and in this particular instance, we’re looking at a historical that features a heroine with second sight and healing powers. Since I do read historicals, particularly if there’s a touch of paranormal, this book of hers from last year was already on my radar to check out. Ruth sent me a character interview, and in it, I feel that her hero does a very clear job of expressing his goals!

And I gotta admit, I like that cover.

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The Guardian's Witch

The Guardian’s Witch

The Inside Scoop

Ah, there you are and just in time. Thank you for coming, I knew you wouldn’t want to miss this. We’ve pulled a real coup. Let me give you a little background before they begin. Our investigative reporter is about to hold an interview with the hero, Lord Alex, and heroine, Lady Lisbeth, of Ruth A. Casie’s book, The Guardian’s Witch. I see they are about to begin. I’ll fill you in on their story when the interview is over.

Reporter: (Facing the audience) Welcome and good afternoon. Today’s guests are Lord Alex Stelton, the exceptional knight who put his life on the line for the woman he loves. Also here is his extraordinary wife, Lady Lisbeth. She too was willing to risk it all–to save the man she loves.

Alex Stelton is the seventh son of Lord and Lady Stelton. Alex’s father is also a seventh son, an oddity that arises in the Stelton family from time to time. Lady Lisbeth and her younger sister Laura survive their parents, Lord and Lady Reynolds, who were lost to us in a terrible carriage accident, and their brother, Richard. Richard died valiantly on the Welsh battlefield.
(Turning to his guests) Thank you both for taking time to talk to us today. The first question I have is for Lord Alex.

Alex: Please, call me Alex.

Reporter: Certainly. Alex, what was your first impression of Lisbeth?

Alex: I’m embarrassed to tell you.

Lisbeth: He avoided me for weeks.

Alex: (Taking Lisbeth’s hand.) That’s not quite correct. You made it perfectly clear that you wanted no part of me. As a matter of fact I got a very clear impression that you would’ve been quite happy if I had disappeared like the others the king sent to protect you.

Lisbeth: Well, what did you expect? You came marching into Glen Kirk all proud and self-important just like all the others.

Alex: (Raising an eyebrow to his wife.) Did I now?

Lisbeth: (A bit contrite.) Well, maybe not exactly like them. (She pulls her hand away from his and faces him.) How was I to know?

Reporter: (Cough.) How did this disagreement start?

Lisbeth: He didn’t tell me for weeks.

Reporter: I beg your pardon. What didn’t Alex tell you for weeks? (Looking at Alex the reporter notices him squirm, just a bit.)

Lisbeth: He didn’t tell me we were married.

Reporter: Married? I don’t understand?

Alex: Wait a minute, Love. You didn’t exactly make it easy.

Lisbeth: Love— (She shoots Alex a glance that could turn him into a pillar of salt.)

Alex: (Alex faces the reporter) I won a bet with King James. If I held Lisbeth’s Glen Kirk Castle safe for one year it would be mine. Having an estate of my own has been a goal of mine for some time.

Lisbeth: (Foot tapping.)

Alex: (Rakes his hand through his hair.) After meeting my part of the bargain, I went to London to collect my winnings and ended proxy wed to Lady Lisbeth by order of the king.

Reporter: He what? And you didn’t tell her for weeks?

Lisbeth: (Folding her arms in front of her glaring at Alex.) Exactly.

Reporter: Perhaps we should move on. Lisbeth, I understand you come from a long line of healers and that you are quite gifted. My sources tell me you’ve used that gift to save Alex more than once.

Lisbeth: (A humbled look crosses her face.) Yes, I work hard to keep the people I love safe.

Reporter: (Shows Lisbeth a charm.) I understand you place these charms in the trees around Glen Kirk.

Alex: (Takes the charms from the interviewer.) My wife has a notion that the pretty bits shine and distract. (He gave the reporter a cold stare.)

Reporter: I understand there are rumors that your wife… uses incantations—

Alex: (Stands dragging Lisbeth with him.) This interview is over.

Reporter: (Obviously upset.) I’m sorry m’lord. I meant no disrespect to your wife or you. But sir, your wife’s special talents are common knowledge far and wide. It is to be honored, sir, not reviled as some may think.

Alex: I clearly told your man that those questions were not to be asked.

Reporter: M’lord, Alex, this woman was ready to risk everything for you. She was in the midst of conjuring up the true criminal responsible for the treason for which you were accused. She was using her magic in front of the king and his court, all to protect you. Surely you know what a grave risk she was taking.

Alex: Don’t you think I know that? (Alex takes his wife in his arms.) I cringe each time I think of how close she came to being judged a witch and the consequences that would have been metered out.

Lisbeth: Alex, (she pulls gently away from his embrace) come sit down. No harm was meant, surely you know that. (She pats his arm.)

Alex: (Regaining his composure.) I will not dwell on it, Lisbeth. I will protect you always.

Lisbeth: Yes, Alex. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But all here know who and what I am. There is no longer a need to hide that I am a witch.

Reporter: We have a little more time. Alex, I understand that your wife is very talented. Her dreams of the future appear to come true.

Alex: (He looks at his wife and does all he can to contain his smile.) My wife has many talents. Her dreams are–exceptional.

Lisbeth: Shhh Alex.(She leans close to him.) No one else will understand.

Alex: (Totally forgetting the reporter for the moment.) You call me into your dreams and we… Faith, (A smoldering look passes between them and he rakes his hand through his hair.) I want to spend the rest of my life in your dreams…

Reporter: Well, thank you both very much. (Pulling on his shirt collar.) Is it warm in here? (The reporter turns to the audience) You can find out more about Lord Alex and Lady Lisbeth in The Guardian’s Witch by Ruth A. Casie. More information follows this interview.

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Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: The Guardian Circle Series, by Isabelle Santiago

Isabelle Santiago is another fellow former Drollerie author, who’s taken the series she previously published with Drollerie and re-packaged it on her own to sell–much like I did with Faerie Blood, in fact! She’s about to drop Book 3 of this series, and so the piece she’s sent me for Boosting the Signal is meant to tie Book 2 and Book 3 together, using the POV of a minor secondary character.

The series is YA fantasy with some romantic elements, so if you’re a YA fan, I hope you’ll consider checking these out!

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The Guardian's Mark

The Guardian’s Mark

His dreams were a strange kaleidoscope of colors. A touch of the rainbow broken into pieces of shattered glass. It took her a while to realize they were actually gemstones–cut, carved and shaped by his loving hands. When she went deeper, further into his subconscious, she found a world she could get lost in, a place of rolling green hills and rich brown earth. A mountain range decorated the horizon and the blue sky stretched as far as eternity.

His world smelled of earth and bark and iron. There was a hut, his own private little place at the very end of the dirt road, past the little village with stone cottages and wooden roofs. Within it, she found a scorching, suffocating heat.

Items forged by his own powerful hands hung from the walls. Intricate swords with gemstone-crusted hilts. Sculptures and vases crafted of clay, heated and glazed. Jewelry with stones in every color, hanging like wind-chimes, glistening in the sunlight that broke through the small window.

He stood at the far end, his naked back to her, the strong curve of his dark shoulders angled as he rolled a glowing, golden ball of molten glass across the table with a blowpipe. He looked like some sort of god, his back and arms streaked in cinders, glistening with sweat as he sculpted and formed something so delicate, so beautiful.

There was a kind of purity to his mind, one that she had yet to find in any of the other Guardians. His memories were not polluted by remorse or jealousy, unrequited love or the burden of unwanted destiny. The walls of his dreamscape seemed infinite, as though his soul had no bounds, and just as clear as the cooling glass, as the very Air she personified.

She smiled. He was everything she’d expected and more. Much more.

He turned, sensing the breeze, and put down his tools.

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

He took a step toward her, a flare of recognition in his molten gold eyes, though they had never met. And when he stopped right before her, her breath caught, just a moment, in her chest.

The Guardian's Choice

The Guardian’s Choice

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, feeling foolish. Her cheeks flushed warm.

“Yes,” he said, on an exhaled breath. He reached out to take her hand.

Her skin was a pale, translucent alabaster, compared to his dark, sun-kissed brown. Her hands were soft and small, looking delicate and frail in comparison to his, so large and callous. He twined his fingers with hers, pressed his hot palm to her cool one, and looked into her eyes as though he saw her very soul.

Air blew between them and around them, caressing their hair, dancing through their arms, pushing them together. Two halves of a whole, separated for so long. Earth and Air, united like the earth and the sky in that distant place on the horizon.

He smiled. “I’m glad to finally meet you,” he said, and that shy, earnest look on his face warmed every part of her. “I’ve waited for you for a very long time.”

“So have I,” she said, wilting in return. “So have I.”

***

She watched him work from the shadows, hidden within her Element, exploring him as she could not in flesh. Her stomach fluttered, a cluster of butterflies scurrying to break free. He pounded at the red-hot metal of a steel blade with a large mallet, his naked back and shoulders slick with sweat. She traced the ancient script of his Mark with her eyes, from his neck down the length of his spine, stark black against the warm caramel of his flushed, sun-kissed skin.

His muscles tightened with each mallet swing. The four walls of the tiny, sweltering workshop quivered, ready to buckle, to bow to his power.

Bianca glanced at the room she’d long committed to memory–a room that had felt like a glimpse into his brilliant soul, full of trinkets made of blown glass and gemstones, carved of marble or stone, forged through fire.

Now, she noticed suddenly, those trinkets were gone. Cluttered with tools and raw materials, the room still felt bare, devoid of the life its craftsman had once breathed into its walls, giving them color and depth.

Something was wrong. Something had changed since they last spoke.

The Guardian's Fall

The Guardian’s Fall

Enki turned as though he heard her thoughts. She startled. A dark bruise marred his jaw below his cheekbone. A red gash split the corner of his full lips. Bianca gasped, losing her cover, materializing before him.

“I thought it was you,” he whispered, his mouth tilting into the ghost of a smile. He removed his work gloves and placed them on the table behind him. “I can always tell when you’ve appeared. You bring the smell of springtime and sunflowers wherever you go.”

“Enki,” she breathed out, taking a careful step in his direction, unable to rip her gaze from the unsettling nature of his bruises.

“I have missed our meetings greatly,” he said and she saw the truth of it in the molten amber of his eyes.

“What happened?”

“I tried to save her,” he said, but his thoughts were far away and his voice was soft and haunted. “I tried to save her but I failed.”

“Who? Who did you try saving?”

He looked away, clutching the edges of the table to steady himself. “Much has changed since we last met.”

Bianca swallowed hard, holding back tears, mourning days spent in the shed talking of sunflower fields and freedom or of a grandiose courtyard in the shadow of a glittering marble temple. It all came back to her at once, the smell of coal and fire on his skin, the warm sunshine coming through the open shutters of his windows. His smile; so earnest, so true.

They’d shared the entirety of their lives here between these four small walls, filled in the spaces where their paths had diverted so they could reunite and be as they were meant to, Earth and Air, two halves made whole.

“It doesn’t have to be different,” she said, desperate, letting Air caress his skin.

“But it is. And I’m afraid the things I’ve done have carved a hollow I cannot refill.”

Her heart broke for him, for the innocence lost, for the boy she’d first met and the tattered remains of the man that replaced him. His soul was still pure at its core, but she felt the differences in him, swallowing him.

The violence. The guilt. The regret.

She should have known. It was only a matter of time before this World got him too.

“I’m sorry, Bianca.” He broke, and she wrapped her arms around him then, breathing in his scent, letting her Element cradle and soothe him. “I am not the man you knew. I have the blood of many men on my hands. It sings to me from within the soil. Reminding me. Cursing me.”

“What have you done?” she asked him, clutching him tighter, wishing just this once that she was as solid as he felt.

“I tried to save her,” he repeated. “But I failed.”

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Buy the Books: Book 1 – The Guardian’s Mark |
Book 2 – The Guardian’s Choice | Book 3 – The Guardian’s Fall, available March 31

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