Happy Tuesday dearest friends, family and lurkers trying to figure out if they'd like to follow me or not! =)
I wanted to first give you a brief update about the novel I have planned for Halloween release. Originally, I was planning on my traditional shorter novels so that it would be a quick, fun read. But now? NOW I have found myself 24 chapters in while I turned into a slightly altered direction that spooks me enough that I have been having creepy dreams every night, and I know I have several more chapters to go until I get to the ending that I have planned out. I must confess, I slightly changed the originally intended ending to something that I hope can sit with readers for a long, long while after they've completed the story. I am super excited to share it with you....y'all do not know.
NOW! On with some fun lore building for my series of The Fae Chronicles! <3 Enjoy!
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The Royal Archives
Fifth Edition
The Old Laws
"Magic may change. Kings may fall. Kingdoms may rise and disappear. But the old laws remember."
—Inscription found beneath the eastern foundation of the Royal Castle
There are laws in the Underworld that are written in books.
There are laws written upon stone.
And then there are the laws that require no writing at all.
These are known simply as the Old Laws.
No one knows exactly when they were created.
Some scholars believe they predate the first Fae king.
Others insist they were given to the Fae by the ancient powers that shaped the Underworld itself.
Whatever their origin, the Old Laws have survived every king, every war, and every change in the realms.
They are not suggestions.
They are not traditions.
They are promises.
The First Law: A Promise Has Weight
Among the Fae, words are not considered meaningless simply because they are spoken.
A promise carries power.
To willingly give one's word is to bind oneself to it.
Breaking such a promise can have consequences far beyond embarrassment or punishment.
For this reason, Fae are notoriously careful with their language.
A clever Fae may tell you exactly what you want to hear.
They may even tell you the truth.
But that does not necessarily mean they have told you everything.
Visitors to the Underworld are therefore encouraged to listen carefully.
Especially when someone says:
"I promise."
The Second Law: Names Are Sacred
A true name is not merely a name.
It is a piece of the person who carries it.
For this reason, Fae rarely surrender their true names to strangers.
Nicknames, titles, family names, and chosen names may be shared freely.
A true name is another matter entirely.
To know someone's true name is to possess knowledge that should never be taken lightly.
The Archives contain several accounts of unfortunate travelers who learned this lesson after ignoring the advice of their hosts.
Their names have been removed from this document.
The Archivist who recorded the incidents was apparently fond of dramatic pauses.
The Third Law: Hospitality Is Sacred
There is perhaps no Old Law more widely observed than the Law of Hospitality.
When a Fae offers shelter beneath their roof and a guest accepts, certain protections are extended to both parties.
The guest is expected to behave honorably.
The host is expected to provide protection.
Breaking this bond is considered one of the greatest offenses in Fae society.
It is also one of the quickest ways to become the subject of a very unpleasant story.
There are exceptions, naturally.
There are always exceptions.
The Fae have never been fond of rules that leave no room for loopholes.
The Fourth Law: Never Take What Is Freely Offered
This law is often misunderstood by humans.
After all, if someone offers you a gift, why would you refuse it?
Because in the Underworld, a gift may carry meaning beyond the object itself.
A flower.
A piece of jewelry.
A cup of wine.
A promise.
A favor.
An invitation.
The Fae understand that giving and receiving can create bonds that are difficult to break.
Wise travelers therefore ask one simple question before accepting anything:
"Why?"
And if the answer is:
"Because I want you to have it."
Perhaps ask again.
The Fifth Law: Magic Has a Price
This is the law most often ignored by those who have never wielded magic themselves.
Magic is not infinite.
It is not without consequences.
And it cannot solve every problem.
Every spell takes something.
Sometimes the price is insignificant.
Sometimes it is painful.
And sometimes the price is not understood until long after the magic has been used.
The greatest mages in Fae history have always understood this.
The foolish ones usually learn it once.
A Final Note From the Archives
The Old Laws are not intended to frighten visitors.
They exist because the Fae have learned, over thousands of years, that certain boundaries exist for a reason.
Unfortunately, visitors learn about those boundaries only after crossing them.
Should you ever find yourself within the Underworld, remember these simple words:
Mind your promises.
Guard your name.
Respect your host.
Question every gift.
And never...
ever...
assume that magic is free.
Until next time,
May the King's Tree light your path,
The Royal Archives
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Hello readers and friends. Today I am featuring one more book tour for you all to check out. This book belongs to Doc Blalock and is titled "Justice, Or Something Like It." Dive into a sneak peek below and find out all the book details provided by the author. Find out how to purchase your copy of book 2 and book 1 today. Happy reading everyone :).
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A private eye with a badge, a bottle, and a little bit of magic…
Justice, Or Something Like It
The Jake Bishop Files Book 2
by: Doc Blalock
Genre: Noir Paranormal Sleuth Suspense
“Secrets. Everyone has them. Some folks keep them for good and noble reasons, others, not so much. All kinds of secrets. Personal, professional, valuable, harmful or embarrassing. People will go to extremes to keep them safe. Some folks have been willing to die for them. Some will kill to protect them. I’m Jake Bishop, private investigator. Secrets are my job.”
BLURB:
In Solomon City, everybody keeps secrets. Secrets are Jake Bishop’s job.
When a harmless old drunk is caught standing over a corpse, murder weapon in hand, the case looks open and shut—but he won’t say why he pulled the trigger. Just that it had to be done.
Bishop knows better. Digging deeper, he uncovers a blackmail scheme, a shadow war in the Irish underworld, and a threat aimed at the one person his old friend has left to lose—forcing Bishop to bend the law, and his own conscience, to see something like justice done.
Jake Bishop is back on the streets of Solomon City, ten months after a mob bombing destroyed his office and murdered his partner and secretary. But Bishop isn’t just any private detective—he’s a “ditch wizard” able to step through shadow and bend reality to his will.
When the beautiful and mysterious Portia Vance answers his ad for a new secretary, Bishop thinks his luck might finally be changing. Together, they begin hunting Vito Morelli, the mob boss who ordered the hit that nearly ended Bishop’s life.
Their investigation leads them through the city’s darkest corners—from strip clubs to shadow banking operations, from corrupt cops to magical wards. But in a world where bullets and spells are equally deadly, and where everyone has secrets worth killing for, Bishop discovers that the line between hunter and hunted is thinner than he thought.
Some cases require a gun. Others need magic. This one demands both.
In the shadows of Solomon City, justice comes with a price—and revenge wears a beautiful face.
A gritty noir fantasy that proves sometimes the most dangerous magic is the human heart.
Christopher “Doc” Blalock is a US Navy veteran Corpsman and retired counselor. He is a prolific fine artist, illustrator, musician, sculptor and writer, cursed with the itch to create. He draws inspiration from sources ranging from JRR Tolkien to Tom Clancy. He additionally draws from his love of classic black-and-white noir films, infusing their moody aesthetic and storytelling into his writing. A helpless coffee addict, he lives in the Atlanta suburbs with his childhood sweetheart and a dog of dubious moral character.
Hello readers and friends. I am featuring a new release tour for author Venus Campbell today for her book that released on August 11th of this year. Her book is titled "Requite of the Fates." Dive into a sneak peek below of this interracial time travel romance mixed with sci-fi adventure themes. Don't miss out on this exciting read, grab your copy today and happy reading everyone :).
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Controlled by aliens, Nathaniel Wayne can’t resist his attraction to Marlene Broadie.
Requite of the Fates
by: Venus Campbell
Genre: Interracial Time Travel Romance, SciFi Adventure
Nate had never known true agony. He was lucky. She wanted to hold it against him, his “everything will turn out all right” point of view, but she needed a bit of that. She looked up from her hands in her lap and met his gaze. Yes, a bit of fantasy in her life would do her good.
Smiling, she quipped, “You promised food.”
“Did I? Well, I think Stacy should be out in a minute with dinner. I usually get a pot pie. Chicken is one of her specialties.”
Marly nodded. Her stomach growled as she adjusted her bottom in the seat. “I could eat anything at this point.”
“You were rude, Mr. Wayne,” a woman’s voice interrupted from behind her. “And I just wanted you to know that it reflects badly on you to be sleeping with a woman like her.”
Marly turned to stare up at the tall blond who had accosted them in the front hall earlier. It took Marly a minute to absorb what she’d heard, then her face heated.
She didn’t think. She just stood, fury boiling to the surface. She took one step in the woman’s direction and would have let out a nasty response if Nate’s hand on her shoulder hadn’t restrained her. Staring at him, she opened her mouth to speak, but he wasn’t looking at her. He angled in front of her and squeezed her arm reassuringly in one controlled movement, then advanced on the blond with angry intent.
Nate’s voice rang out powerfully in the dining room’s sudden silence. “You better get smart. A mouth like that will get you permanently barred from a career in Hollywood. You’ll certainly never work on a film with me. And just so you know, I wouldn’t sleep with you to save the great white race. Let’s go, Marly.”
He curved around the woman, making sure no part of him touched her, and headed out of the dining room with Marly right behind him. At the double-door hall entrance, a stalwart Stacy sent Nate a questioning look. He stopped, his nostrils flaring, and bit out his words.
“I believe that woman is having difficulty finding her way out.”
Stacy nodded. “I’ll make sure she gets there.” She handed him a key. “I’ll have your dinner brought up.”
Nodding a quick thanks, his expression impenetrable, Nate turned and pulled Marly up dark-carpeted stairs. They made their way silently down a wide hall, the maroon-colored wallpaper casting a forbidding slant to their mutual silence. She couldn’t figure out what was going on. He seemed angry with her, yet he’d defended her. Maybe he regretted his outburst, but she didn’t. Now she understood why every sane person wanted to be with or be Nathaniel Wayne.
They stopped at a door and Nate slipped the key into the lock, turned it with a click, and pushed, then retreated to let Marly enter first. She marched into the room, and after he’d followed and turned to address her, she slammed the door shut and grabbed his sweat coat, her mouth crashing against his as she pulled him down desperately.
He held back a second before grabbing her ass. Yes. Perfect hands.
Then his chest, arms, and nether regions pressed against her, his hard body inching her backward until she was against the wall and he adjusted his grasp on her buttocks. He held her against his erection.
His tongue caressed the inside of her mouth. She tasted mint on his breath. Tilting his head, he raised one hand to frame her face, the callouses on his fingers brushing sensuously on her cheeks. He pulled in her breath, lapping at her tongue, then slanted away to suckle her lips as his blue irises bored into her eyes. A question twinkled there and Marly nodded. This time, yes.
She couldn’t think as she watched him. Her eyes closed in shuddering bliss as his lips touched her neck and he ran his hands down her body again to pull her against him. Want was all she could think. She ached with want.
Then he was pulling away and the contrasting cool to his warmth returned thoughts to her head. Should they be doing this? She stared at him as he stepped back, breathing hard.
His hands, shaking, reached out to straighten her rumpled shirt, then held her face a moment. “I’ve been in enough movies to know that making love to you right now would ruin any chance I have at persuading you into a relationship with me.” He took another deep breath as if to steady himself. “May I draw you a bath?” His question was so innocent, so concerned. Marly’s heart thumped.
He didn’t wait for her to answer. Taking her hand, he walked her to the bathroom and flicked on the light switch. Lavender. Marly’s eyes lit in the violet-and-white-tiled room as the scent of lavender floated into her nostrils. Bath and hand towels in a matching white-and-violet scheme lay folded on the white marble countertop. A white ceramic clawfoot bathtub dominated the room; its classic silver knobs caught Marly’s glance. A pair of complementing knobs shone from the sink. Stacy must have paid for the best interior decorator money could buy.
Nate left her to bend by the tub and turn on the water. After a minute of fiddling, he seemed to have the temperature where he wanted it. Marly was drawn to the water’s relaxing tinkle. Fatigue pushed forth again, as her tense muscles unwound from her earlier confrontation with Nate’s less-than-adoring public and, well, her life. She had to fight to keep her eyelids open as the steam from the tub wrapped itself around her.
Nate appeared before her and lowered her slicker off her shoulders. Then he pulled her shirt gently up and off her body and reached around to unhook her bra. No flicker of desire lit his gaze. Only concern. Her shirt and coat flung across the crook of his elbow, he smiled and rubbed her arms then bent to help her pull off her jeans.
Marly blinked to combat her fatigue. With her clothes in hand, he walked to the door and looked back. She could barely discern his words.
“I’ll be right outside, okay?”
Nodding, she let her gaze slide to the hot bath before her. The door clicked shut. Pulling off her bra and underwear, Marly climbed into the warm water and sank until she was covered up to her neck. The lapping of the water at her chin drew her lids lower until she couldn’t resist sleep anymore. Nathaniel Wayne, desire and concern in his eyes, was the last image in her head. Her last thought: she was falling in love with him.
BLURB:
Perfect for fans of The Song of Achilles and A Touch of Darkness, this interracial time-travel romance is a Greek mythology retelling of the Theseus and the Minotaur that follows war photojournalist, Marly Broadie, surviving on grit and grief as she encounters Emissary Nate Wayne, under the control of aliens.
Set in near future New York city, and Los Angelos and 1500's BCE Crete, Nate's body, as Emissary for Earth, can be piloted by the Entity, aliens threatening humanity. Any resistance initiates humanity's annihilation. Marly's photography of the Emissary will ensure her mother's life-saving treatment. Instead, Marly provokes the Entity's interest and Nate's. Alien time-travel tech flings them back to ancient Minoan Crete. Stuck in the past, their desire for each other grows. Every reclaimed memory brings them closer to returning to the present and the Entity who can possess Nate's body. However, the future without them means human extinction. They will escape the past as their love is required to ensure humanity's future.
From award winning author, Venus Campbell, Requite of the Fates is a multicultural mytho-sci time-travel romance for readers ready to adventure into the mythical past.
Venus Campbell is the Principal of the Book of Venus publishing and the Winner of the Kroger Award for Excellence in Creative Writing. She has finaled in various writing contests such as the Central Ohio Ignite the Flame and the New England Chapter- RWA First Kiss. Campbell is a member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA) and the Authors Guild. Campbell has written professionally since 2006 and has completed five single title manuscripts. To Desire the Stars is her second publication. Campbell focuses on interweaving paranormal elements into romance stories, creating unique worlds which challenge people’s perceptions of self and preconceived notions of human love and relationships.
Hello readers and friends. Today I am featuring two books from Steven J. Morris' epic fantasy world "The Fractured Arcana Universe." These two books you will be able to download for free to get started on this unique world and dive into adventures like no other. I hope you enjoy the sneak peek that is provided and grab your copies of "Mother of Trees," and "The Guardian of the Palace." Each book is the first book in two individual series within this Universe. What better way to start this adventure than with these two books. Hope you enjoy this post and grab them while you can. Happy reading everyone :).
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Two series, one shattered universe: an ancient war that forged magic, and the modern invasion that it made possible.
Mother of Trees
Thaumatropic Roots Book 1
Part of the Fractured Arcana Universe
by: Steven J. Morris
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Elliah ~ 1
My mother told me many times that all adolescents feel like they don't belong, but… I really didn't. So I spent my free time away from other elves, on my own but for the animals… they didn't understand how broken I was. And I was quite pleased with my current find, so I snarled when a noise behind me scared away the drakeling that had settled in my hands. Black with a pattern of red scales along its spine, its body the thickness of my finger, it took flight with a flurry of thin leathery wings and disappeared behind a massive brown trunk.
"The real ones are much more intimidating," said an unfamiliar voice.
Time slowed as I tensed to run, shocked that I'd let my guard down so much that anyone had gotten that close. How many lurked behind me? On the outskirts of town, in the thick of the woods near the river, I had expected solitude.
"Stay, Bereft. I am not afraid," said the voice. His words provoked me.
"No one's afraid of me," I blurted. Bitterness stained my words as surely as the pollen of the bloodcups had stained my ragged clothes.
I turned away from the vanished drakeling to focus on the intruder who'd scared it away. A man. No, I corrected myself, someone my age. Someone not quite old enough for adults to consider one of their own, but too old to call a child.
But not Bereft. No other elf shared that with me.
The newcomer was slightly taller than me with a thin frame, his light hair hanging long, wild, and tangled. He was new to the village—I would have noticed an elf with skin so light. I'd heard whispers of him at school. Kethryllia had called him Salt-kissed, and I'd wondered what that meant, but his light skin answered that question. He'd undoubtedly caught whispers about me, heard of my… condition. Bereft. Yet at that moment, I thought only of the hours of coaxing I'd spent to draw the little drakeling into my grasp, and that the stupid elf had scared it away. I wanted to punch him.
"Maybe they should be," he said, taking a step back, though it would have taken me two leaps to get to him, and he'd have me pinned in one, if he had any skill with magic at all. But I'd prepared a leap already, only not in his direction. As I sprung away, he continued, raising his voice, "And you're right, they're not afraid of you."
I landed with a tree between us. His magic wouldn't be able to snag me there. Unless he was very good at it.
"They're afraid of what you represent."
BLURB:
A dying goddess. A fractured prophecy. A magicless elf who shouldn't exist.
Elliah has spent her entire life being told what she is—bereft, wrong, a mistake the world would prefer to correct. Drifting from town to town with a mother who won't explain why they keep running, she has no magic, no place, and no future. Then a single misstep draws the attention of those who've been looking for her, and everything her mother was hiding comes apart.
She isn't ready for what she learns. But ready was never an option.
Mother of Trees is the thrilling first book in the Thaumatropic Roots epic fantasy series. Enter a world of dangerous magic, ancient powers, and one impossible girl who refuses to stay down.
Magic is as natural as breathing in Elliah's world — except to her. Born without a single spark in a war that runs on it, she has nothing but her will and her refusal to accept the limits everyone else has already decided for her. This is what happens when the world writes you out of the story, and you refuse to leave.
Corpses patterned the ground as far as my eye could see, a patchwork quilt of death.
I stood atop a skeletal tower, overlooking the broken ruins of an ancient civilization, so very far from home. I envisioned the beauty that the soaring arches once held, the bridges between the constructs reaching out with broken arms, buildings leaning against one another like ancient lovers in a final embrace. Crumbled remains powdered the bases of former statues, and, everywhere, all of it was littered with the dead.
Like a phoenix, I stood, bathed in fire. An Angel of Death. Not the Angel of Death—he was an ass.
A part of me wanted to go down and see for myself. Maybe just to make sure… to make sure I had done my job… and killed everyone that used to inhabit that world. The magic I was wielding should have destroyed them all—something inside of me could feel that it had—but I wanted to see it.
Yet I knew that was unrealistic. I didn't have the time. There were other worlds that needed my infection, and Earth was on my shortlist.
Chapter 1
Red - Day 20, Sunday, the day after the attack
"Ms. Hernandez?" a muffled voice called from a distance, accompanied by a gentle rapping on a door. My consciousness registered the interruption as a nuisance and pulled me back under.
What seemed like seconds later, the rapping came again, more insistent. "Ms. Hernandez."
Ms. Hernandez was my mom… why were they bothering me?
Then a scraping sound, and an alarmed voice. "Ms. Hernandez! Are you okay?"
Some scrambling, some grunts, more scraping… shit, I was going to have to wake up. Why couldn't they just let me sleep?
I tried to answer, but my throat was dry and nothing came out. Coughing, I attempted to sit up, not wholly returned from my trip to dreamland. "I'm here. I'm okay." Was I though? I wasn't sure.
I was in my flat. Not the desert. My door was partway open, and a slightly overweight man had paused in the act of pushing his way in. I recognized him, but his name escaped me. Swinging my legs off my cot, I did a quick modesty check. I was fully dressed, though rather tragically, in some semblance of civilian fatigues—muddied, disheveled, and a little bloody.
The reason came screaming back to me. There had been creatures, unearthly monsters, in The Palace. They'd done things I could not explain by any of the rules I knew. And they'd beaten the hell out of me and then patched me back up in a matter of seconds. I'd blown the head clean off of one of them and fled the scene.
Not my smartest move.
BLURB:
Magic isn’t real.
Red Hernandez is very sure of that.
She wants a quiet life after Special Forces—just a steady security job at a half-finished Manhattan skyscraper.
But then a sister tower implodes in a way physics can’t explain.
Witnesses report creatures in the smoke.
And something hunts her in the tunnels beneath.
Red wants answers. What she gets instead is an elf with a sword, a troll with a wry sense of humor, and a dwarf who believes every battle requires an audience. They insist an ancient enemy has crossed into our world—and Red becomes an accidental gatekeeper simply because she’s standing on the fault line when it cracks open.
As a hidden war erupts in the shadows of New York City, Red must decide: run from the past that nearly destroyed her… or fight for a world she’s only just beginning to believe in.
A veteran with nothing left to lose.
A threat born of magic and shadow.
A team she never saw coming.
The Guardian of the Palace launches the action-packed Guardian League series—perfect for fans of urban fantasy, modern-world magic, found family, and heroines who refuse to back down.
Earth, through its technological advances, supports nearly eight billion souls; from a cosmic perspective, that makes it ripe for the picking. 'Red' Hernandez, trying to put a questionable military life behind her, finds herself caught in the middle of stopping an apocalyptic invasion of Earth. But to do that, she has to figure out who the good guys are, and how she can combat forces in which she does not believe.
Steven J. Morris writes fantasy where magic runs deep and the consequences run deeper. By day he's an engineer and father of three in Austin, Texas. He's the author of eight novels across two completed series — the epic Thaumatropic Roots and the urban Guardian League — both set in the shared Fractured Arcana universe. Find him at sjmorriswrites.com.