Guest Author Day with NJ Walters

Welcome back to the Reading Nook and today I have the pleasure of talking with author, N.J. Walters, about their newest book in the Blood of Drakon series, Drakon's Knight. So without further adieu, let's go to NJ. :-)

How did you start writing in the many different genres you write?

Like most writers, I was a huge reader before I ever put pen to paper (or fingers on keyboard) to start writing. I devoured romance novels for years. One day, I found myself thinking, “I can write one of these.” So I did. I wrote two books and eventually put them away. Six years later, I started writing again and eventually published my first book. And those first two books I wrote? They were eventually published as the first two books of my Jamesville series.

Are you a: Plotter or pantster?

Pantser. If I plot a book I lose the drive to actually write it. (It’s the same reason I never talk about whatever I’m working on.) But that doesn’t mean I don’t do some preliminary work before I begin writing.

It’s all about character for me, so I do character sketches on file cards. It give me an idea of who the hero and heroine are, where they come from, what they want, what motivates them. From there, I think about the first scene. Once that scene is set in my head I start writing. I may have an idea for a scene or two, but I don’t plot the book. If I get ideas as I go along, I’ll make notes at the end of the manuscript and keep on writing.

What are three things you have on your writing desk?

I work on a small computer desk in the corner of my living room. It’s barely big enough to hold my monitor and keyboard. But three things I always have on my desk are:

1. My file cards for my current book are propped up above my keyboard for easy reference. I live and die by the file card.

2. My daily calendar. I keep track of what I’m doing with my writing—words written, edits done, rewrites, release dates, and stuff like that.

3. Highlighters and my purple pen, because I make all my notes in purple pen.

I don’t even keep tea or water on my desk. It’s just too small. My mug sits on top of a shelf just behind my chair.

Tell us a little about your new release. What character in the book really spoke to you?

Drakon’s Knight is the seventh book in the Blood of the Drakon series. The world and characters have been established throughout the rest of the books. Which brings me to the heroine, Karina Azarov. She’s a very complex woman—independent, ruthless, intelligent, goal-oriented, and driven. She’s also been the villain throughout the first six books of the series. But everything is not as it seems. And there is a whole lot more to the story.

Honestly, Karina surprised even me. I may be the author, but I’ve often said I just take dictation. The characters tell their own stories.

Finish this sentence: I write because ____...

I have to.

What is your favorite type of character to write about?

I do tend to love the dark, brooding hero. I can’t seem to help myself. It’s fascinating to uncover what made them that way. It’s also a challenge to see if there is a way to bring them out into the light again—that’s if they even want to. Sometimes, they entice the heroine into the darkness to join them. In the end, all I want for my characters is a happily ever after, whatever that means to them.

What is the sexiest scene you ever wrote?

That’s an impossible question to answer. LOL It tends to be whatever sexy scene I’m currently working on.

What is next on your writerly horizon?

I have a brand new paranormal series releasing with Entangled Publishing starting in October 2019, which I’m super excited about. Still kicking around titles, but the first three books have been written and contracted.

The remainder of the Tapestries series will be released from Beyond the Page Publishing.

And the Marks Mercenaries series—a sexy sci-fi, space romance series—is being released by Evernight Publishing.

There’s always so much happening.

Drakon’s Knight

Blood of the Drakon, Book 7

Entangled Publishing

Drakon Jericho Drake, the child of a pure-blood dragon and human, has a simple plan: Kill the leader of the Knights of the Dragon and start a war. Except, when he meets his target, Karina Azarov, she can’t remember who she is. Worst of all––he can’t kill her. His dragon side has just claimed the dangerous woman as his mate.

Karina has no idea why these Drakon’s have taken her to their home. And she most certainly does not understand why she’s so drawn to her captor. Maybe because he’s strong, intelligent, and caring, in his enigmatic sort of way. One thing she knows, he’s not going to hurt her. If only she could remember something from her past that would explain why these Drakon’s hate her so much.

But if her memory returns, mated or not, he may get his war.. And one of them will die.

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07QZMKQP3/

Entangled: https://entangledpublishing.com/drakon-s-knight.html

EXCERPT:

Karina was desperately trying not to panic, but it wasn’t easy with four big men watching her every move. It had taken every ounce of determination and pride not to run screaming when they’d all looked toward her.

Any smart person would be wary of them. And no matter what her earlier actions might suggest, her intelligence wasn’t in doubt.

She was seeing them as a group for the first time without being totally muddled by her injuries. If she were more of a coward, she’d wish for the worst of the headache back again so she wouldn’t have to face them.

They were tough and big. Mercy, were they big. They were all well over six and a half feet and took up every square inch of the rather large country kitchen.

She studied the others first. Anything to avoid having to face Jericho.

They all watched her with varying degrees of suspicion etched on their faces. The man closest to Jericho had the fiercest scowl.

Seeing the direction of her gaze, Jericho glanced over his shoulder. “That’s Sadiq.”

The scowler—was that even a word?—nodded at her. With his cropped, dark hair and equally dark eyes, he was not a man she wanted to get on the bad side of. Problem was, she was already there, for whatever reason. He looked like, given the chance, he’d rather kill her than sit down to dinner with her.

A cold sweat broke out on her skin, but she managed to nod. Never let them see fear. That tenet seemed ingrained in her very being.

“That’s Enoch.” Jericho continued the introductions. He, too, had black hair, but it was longer than Sadiq’s. His eyes were green, their expression more curious than murderous.

“And that’s Khalil.” Like the rest, he had black hair, but his fell down his back in a tight braid. Like Enoch, his eyes were green. The two looked remarkably like brothers.

All of them were wearing jeans, heavy boots, and T-shirts. Tattoos ranged down their bare arms. Her first assessment of them had been correct. They looked like badass bikers.

But what would a biker gang want with her?

“Who am I?” She turned back to Jericho, addressing her question to him. It was obvious he was the leader of this small group.

“I told you.” He eased back in his chair. “Your name is Karina.” The wood creaked, and she held her breath, wondering if the seat would crack under the sheer weight and size of him, but it held. At least for now.

“And that tells me nothing.”

“What do you remember?” Suspicion dripping from every word, Sadiq moved closer. “Surely there must be something.”

She could hear, almost taste the threat in his words. But she took the time to really think. The more she knew about herself, the better off she’d be.

Pressing her fingertips to the side of her head, she concentrated on trying to recall what had happened. “I remember flying through their air, the sound of metal crunching, and then the silence.” Her stomach lurched, but she kept it in check.

“The memories are spotty,” she went on. “But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?”

“No,” Sadiq answered and took another step closer to Jericho, almost as though he was trying to protect him. From what? Her? She wasn’t exactly a threat to anyone in her current state.

Who is Karina? What did she do?

(The Blood of the Drakon series is a paranormal romance series published by Entangled Publishing.)

About the Author:

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

           

Visit me at:

Website: http://www.njwalters.com

Blog: http://www.njwalters.blogspot.com

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gdblg5

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

Book Spotlight~ Breaking His Spell

Title: Breaking His Spell

Author: Foster Bridget Cassidy

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 6, 2019

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 38800

Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, mages, magic, fantasy, match making, romance, Familiars, dragon, assassination attempt, magicians, royalty, spells, gay, immortal, true love

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Klint doesn’t believe in true love. As an Alma, an immortal magician, he knows such feelings can’t last forever. The death of his mortal lover almost a hundred years ago proved it. But Klint’s resolve gets put to the test when he’s tasked with saving a prince from a dark spell. With Carishina, his friend and fellow Alma, in tow, he sets off for Terius. Carishina’s ideas for breaking spells differ greatly from Klint’s. While he tries potions, Carishina tries kisses. Only one of them will succeed.

Excerpt

Breaking His Spell Foster Bridget Cassidy © 2019 All Rights Reserved Chapter One True love. There were no other words in all the world as deceitful as those. In my youth, I had believed. I sought to find that one person to complete me. As a newly trained magician, the Alsa Alma sent me to tutor the third youngest prince of the Farlerotna Kingdom. In the palace, I watched Prince Vulten grow. I was his constant companion in study and in play. The prince had a devious mind, and we spent hours thinking of ways to trick his older siblings. And on the day he turned eighteen he’d confessed his love for me. Shocking, to say the least, because I’d come to love him too. True love. Or so I thought. Except, how could anyone truly, irrevocably love an immortal? For the early years, we were happy. We took trips to foreign nations. We hosted lords and ladies. We played tricks on his siblings, even Rillik, who had taken the crown by then. But as the years stretched and Vulten began to age, the love in his eyes lessened and faded, replaced by envy and jealousy. As an immortal Alma, my magic kept my body youthful. He’d died, cursing my name. For decades, I mourned. Not just the loss of his life, but the loss of his love. “That,” Alma Carishina said at the end of my monologue, “is why you don’t have relations with mortals.” She leaned forward, her chin resting on her palm. She’d magicked her hair green, and the curls appeared serpentine, a gorgon with her snakes. “No,” I countered, “that’s why you don’t have any relationships with anyone. If love could not last for eighty years with a mortal, how could it last forever with an immortal? It’s not possible.” “And so,” Alma Franik added with a toothy grin, “you’ve turned into a grumpy old man at the tender age of two hundred.” “I’m a hundred and ninety-five,” I fumed. “And I’m not grumpy. I don’t see the point in romance. There’s no such thing as true love.” “I heard,” Franik stage whispered to Carishina, “he moped in the Farlerotna Palace for a hundred years before they asked for him to be taken away.” Carishina laughed and the red in my cheeks was not all anger. Maybe I had moped, but my broken heart was understandable. I’d lost my lover, and at the same time, my childish ideas of the world. It had wounded me. I needed to reflect and get a grip on my life. Had I really been there a hundred years? Rillik’s granddaughter—Simmone—had assumed the throne. How long had I wandered those halls, haunting them like a ghost? It couldn’t have been more than forty or fifty. “The Alsa Alma had to fetch Klint himself,” Franik concluded with a smug smile. “Ha-ha,” I told him sourly. “I’m not sure you have room to talk, Franik, as you’ve never even been sent outside these walls. What was it the Alsa Alma said? You ‘lacked any and all ambition’?” Carishina snorted and Franik glowered. “As if I wanted to mingle with the mortals,” he said, drawing himself up. “I don’t ever want to get mixed up in their insignificant affairs.” I allowed myself a small grin as Franik directed the conversation onto a new topic. At times, I still missed Vulten. Our connection had been the one real thing in my life. As a wizard, I used unexplained solutions, backward thinking, magicking anything into reality. But with Vulten, the emotions had seemed more than magic. Better than magic. At least I’d learned my lesson young. The pain prepared me for my lonely future. The afternoon light shone in through the stained-glass windows, throwing splashes of color around the room. I adored the place, my favorite in the Alma Palace, a mixture of library and meditation room. Most of the time, no occupants filled the tables. Or on the occasions when they did, other magicians knew enough to leave you to your thoughts. Well, not today. Franik and Carishina had bombarded me with questions the moment I walked in. They were young—Franik just turned ninety, and Carishina was a mere forty-six. Of course, they were curious about the gossip around the palace, and my experience in Farlerotna continuously made the rounds. Plus, many of the older practitioners didn’t have the time or inclination for dealing with the young ones. Apparently my years in the mortal world had tempered my patience. “I hope I get an assignment soon,” Carishina said. “I’m ready to travel and see something besides these Mylforsaken windows.” The curse using the goddess’s name sounded odd in her cheerful voice. “They won’t let you out for a least another twenty years,” I told her. “Why not? I heard you were sent out at forty-five. I’m older now.” I shrugged. “The world’s a much more dangerous place now, even to a trained Alma. Dark wizards are the least of our concerns.” Her lips puckered in displeasure. “I heard there’s a prince in Terius who’s fallen under an evil spell. I want to be the one to rescue him.” “What did I say about mixing with royalty?” I asked, exasperated. What was the point in telling them my tragic past if they didn’t heed my warnings? “Oh, Klint,” she said fondly, reaching out to grip my hand. “Just because a relationship didn’t work for you doesn’t mean it won’t work for everybody. Or, maybe your prince was an ass who really didn’t love you at all.” My mouth fell open. So did Franik’s. Carishina casually went on smiling at me, unaware of how tactless her words had been. “Klint,” called a voice from behind me. I turned in my seat. Alma Peter leaned through the doorway. “The Alsa Alma would like to speak to you.” I wrinkled my nose. It’d been awhile since I’d been summoned by the old man. After he’d come to Farlerotna and informed me I was creeping out the current royals, I’d kept my distance. Now, I hoped he had good news for me.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Foster Bridget Cassidy is a rare, native Phoenician who enjoys hot desert air and likes to wear jackets in summer. She has wanted to be a fiction writer since becoming addicted to epic fantasy during high school. Since then, she’s studied the craft academically—at Arizona State University—and as a hobby—attending conventions and workshops around the country. A million ideas float in her head, but it seems like there’s never enough time to get them all down on paper. For fun, Foster likes to take pictures of her dachshunds, sew costumes for her dachshunds, snuggle her dachshunds, and bake treats for her dachshunds. In exchange for so much love and devotion, they pee vast amounts on the floor, click their nails loudly on the tile, and bark wildly at anything that moves outside. Somehow, this relationship works for all involved. While not writing, Foster can usually be found playing a video game or watching a movie with her husband. While not doing any of those things, Foster can usually be found in bed, asleep.

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Giveaway

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Guest Author Day with Renee Wildes

Please welcome author Renee Wildes today at the Reading Nook.

Can you tell us a little about yourself?

I live in central WI with my husband, three teenagers, and a whole bunch of critters—dog, 3 cats, hamster, & horse. I have a day job working as a professional dog groomer. I’m a total Josh Gates groupie!

What is your book(s) about?

A Guardian’s Heart is the completely remodeled reincarnation of Duality. A new twist on Cinderella, my human peasant heroine Dara thinks she’s just a healer with a temper. When she rescues an elven warrior on the battlefield, he takes her back to the elven kingdom of Cymry so she can get assistance ousting the demon who usurped her king’s throne. She finds out there’s a lot more to learn about who she is and where she comes from. Here there be dragons!

If you could be any paranormal creature what would you be?

I would love to be a dragon—long life, wisdom of the ages, almost indestructible, and the ability to breathe fire and fly? Count me in!

What do you do when you’re not writing?

I read a lot, also am involved in 4-H with my youngest daughter (and the above-mentioned horse!), and watch non-fiction TV—Expedition Unknown, Forged in Fire, and Mysteries at the Museum.

What genres do you write in?

Romance—fantasy, paranormal, and sci fi.

If you write a series do you reread your previous books before you begin the new one?

Yes, to make sure my characters and world-building stay consistent. I have occasionally moved entire cities around from book to manuscript, so I’ve learned to keep notes but always double-check!

Is there anything you wish to say to your readers?

Always believe in and stay true to yourself. Don’t worry so much about pleasing others—strive for your own dreams.

Do you prefer to extensively plot your stories, or do you write them as they come to you?

I am a total plotter, as all my fantasy books are interconnected and I’m working on their children’s stories now (Daughters of the Guardians). I have to plot to keep it all straight!

Have there been any characters that started off as supporting characters, but then developed into a more prominent character?

That’s how I roll—in A Guardian’s Heart you meet Loren’s best friend Cianan (the hero in Book 2, A Guardian’s Hope), Dara’s ladies’ maid Verdeen (the heroine of Book 5, A Guardian’s Destiny), the elven Minister of Healing Benilo (the hero in Book 4, A Guardian’s Dreams), and Queen Moira’s werewolf brother Trystan (the hero of Book 3, A Guardian’s Storm). In a Guardian’s Dreams, you meet heroine Pryseis’ nephew Dax (hero in Book 6, A Guardian Betrayed). In A Guardian’s Destiny, you meet hero Aryk’s best friend Valkyn (hero in Book 7, A Guardian Redeemed—his heroine Mari is the best friend of Trystan’s heroine Finora).

Whew! Now you see why I HAVE to be a hard-core plotter!

If a movie or TV production company chose to produce your books into a series of shows or movies, who would your ideal cast be?

Someone else just asked me this recently. In my original version of Duality, I had Dinah Meyer (Cara from Dragonheart) and Craig Parker (Haldir from LOTR) as Dara and Loren.

Nowadays, I would wholeheartedly embrace Rose Leslie as Dara—I adored her spirited portrayal of Chloe in The Last Witch Hunter. Loren is a bit more difficult, but I’m leaning toward Alexander Skarsgard. I would totally have Judy Dench reading for the voice of Loren’s opinionated war mare, Hani`ena! Miranda Otto would play Verdeen. Santiago Cabrera as Cianan, because I love his roguish portrayal of Aramis in the BBC version of the Musketeers.

A Guardian's Heart

Genre of Book - Fantasy Romance 

Series Name - Guardians of Light (Book One)

Publisher - Champagne Book Group

Book blurb - 

Dara Khan Androcles was trained from childhood to be a healer. But as a demon-possessed invader threatens Safehold, and she defends a wounded warrior on the battlefield, her hidden inner dragon thirsts for blood. 

When she lifts the warrior’s blond, blood-encrusted hair away from his ear, she discovers he is more than King Hengist’s outlander ally. He is an immortal. The elven heir to the throne of Cymry. 

Loren ta Cedric senses something different about flame-haired, falcon-eyed woman who saves him. A healer, wreathed in raw, dark power, who wields knives with deadly skill. A mortal who prays to the Lady, not the human gods. Now he owes this thoroughly distracting female a Life-Debt. Which, in the heat of their flight to Loren’s homeland to raise an army, somehow becomes Life-Mate. 

Dragon-human and elf, peasant and prince, logic says they have no future. Yet the power of their unlikely bond could be the only thing that saves their world from a demon poised to tear it apart. 

Warning: This new twist on Cinderella contains a grouchy dragon, a sentient war mare with the dry wit of a certain English Dame, and a fiery heroine who strikes serious sparks with a mercenary elf.

Excerpt:

The sun just kissed the horizon outside Dara’s windows when a knock sounded at the adjoining door. “Dara? Are you ready?” Loren called.

“’Course I’m not ready. Wait ’til you see what she stuffed me into this time.”

Verdeen opened the door and curtsied. “Highness.”

Loren entered. “Keeping Lady Dara out of trouble, Verdeen?”

“With great difficulty, Milord.” Verdeen shut the door.

He froze as he focused on Dara. Heat flared in his eyes. “Verdeen, await us downstairs.”

Verdeen curtsied again and showed herself out, shutting the door behind her.

Loren locked it.

Dara sucked in a startled breath. His gaze traveled down, then up again. Slowly. Possessively. Her body tingled at the frank desire on his face, and she rubbed her bare arms. “You’re staring. Don’t blame me for this.” His long silence unnerved her. “Say something.”

“I would, could I find words.” His hoarse voice sent a shiver down her spine. “Where is the rest of it?”

She rolled her eyes. “They carted it off to the stables for insect netting. ’Tis all they left me. I resemble a heathen idol, don’t I?”

“If you were, a thousand men would change their religion.” Catching the blasphemy, Loren made a sign of supplication to the Lady. “If you wanted our cause to be visible, you succeeded. Everyone shall wish to meet you. None shall even notice me.”

Dara snorted. “Doubtful. The wanderer returns heroic, covered in glory and still unwed. All noble mothers shall throw their daughters at your feet.”

“You are the only one I want, sassy, irreverent wench.” Loren stroked her glistening arm.

Want. Dara trembled and slid closer. She loved how his eyes darkened. How she tingled at the open appreciation and desire on his face. Other men had admired her, but not quite this way—with a knowing that saw her, not just the pretty packaging. Her pulse pounded in her throat as she traced his lips with her fingertips. He captured her wrist to place a burning kiss against her sensitive skin. Dara gasped in reaction, and his eyes blazed.

The blood shimmered in her veins. She’d give aught to have Loren look at her that way forever. “We should go—”

“In a moment.” He pulled her flush against him. “I would have you to myself…for a bit.”

The hard planes of his chest thrilled, and she softened against him. Here was where she wanted to be. He stroked a calloused hand down her bare back. She whimpered. “Careful, you’ll squash my flower.”

“I shall get you another one.” Loren nuzzled her hair aside to lip her ear, flicking his tongue against her neck, nipping her shoulder. “So beautiful and brave. I need to hold you…touch you…taste you.” His mouth captured hers, his tongue surging in to duel with hers.

Dara’s head spun at the sensuous strokes of his tongue, tasting rich male and hot, heady desire. Her skin prickled with awareness. She clung to him, overwhelmed by a storm of sensation. Her body awoke, alive with yearning. Everywhere he touched caught fire. She arched against him with a gasp as his hands lowered to cup her backside and haul her into a burning erection. Half shocked, half intrigued, she rubbed against the rigid shaft straining within his breeches. A deep inner ache that had naught to do with the iron poisoning tightened her womb. A disconcerting dampness slicked her inner thighs, and she whimpered and shook in his arms.

Loren caressed her backside and his wet, carnal kisses devoured her with a voracious hunger nigh approaching desperation.

Trembling, aflame, she clung to him as he crowded her against the hard door.

Door. Party.

She tore her mouth from his. “Loren, wait.”

“One moment.” He slid a hand under the material of her bodice and found her breast, tweaking her nipple into a point of hot need. “So soft, so strong…”

A flash of heat zinged down between her thighs, and her womb clenched. Between her quivering thighs, she felt herself soften and swell. A strange fluttering began, an overwhelming instinctive need to cradle him, move on him. Dara struggled to focus. “Loren, they await us.”

He groaned and drew back. Her body ached at the loss. Frustration glittered in his leaf-green eyes. “Forget the party. Stay here. Let me show you the stars. It shall be amazing between us.”

She should be outraged at the proposition, but, oh, how tempting that was. She bit her lip and squirmed, then frowned. “Your kin would notice. I’d not offend your grandparents. Asides, I’ve never seen fireworks afore.”

“We can be late. We shall make our own fireworks.” He cupped her breast again, swiped his thumb across her straining, sensitized nipple. “Deny you want this…want me… Please want me…”

She yelped at the shock and covered his mouth. “Don’t say another word. You could tempt a nun. Enough. Let’s go. If Sirona had to fetch us two nights in a row, we’d never hear the end of it.”

Grinning, he peeled her hand away and replaced the crushed flower from her bodice with a fresh one from the nearby vase. “A nun?”

Dara’s cheeks warmed anew as the cool water from the stem trickled down the heated skin of her belly.

Buy the book at Amazon / BN

Bio - 

WI author Renee Wildes grew up reading fantasy authors Terry Brooks and Mercedes Lackey and is a huge Joseph Campbell fan, so the minute she discovered romance novels it became inevitable that she would combine it all and write fantasy romance. Renee is a history buff and research junkie, from ancient to medieval times, esp. the Dark Ages. As a Navy brat and a cop’s kid, she gravitated to protector/guardian heroes and heroines. She’s had horses her whole life, so became the only vet tech in a family of nurses. It all comes together in her Guardians of Light series – fantasy, action, romance, heroics, and lots of critters!

Links - 

http://reneewildesromance.com

https://reneewildes1.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ReneeWildes1/

https://twitter.com/ReneeWildes

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2465877.Renee_Wildes

https://www.pinterest.com/reneewildes/

Book Spotlight- The Queen of Ieflaria/Giveaway

Title:  The Queen of Ieflaria

Series: Tales of Inthya, Book One

Author: Effie Calvin

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: February 19, 2018

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 65000

Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, fantasy, royalty, dragons, mythical creatures, magic, gods, slow burn

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Synopsis

Princess Esofi of Rhodia and Crown Prince Albion of Ieflaria have been betrothed since they were children but have never met. At age seventeen, Esofi’s journey to Ieflaria is not for the wedding she always expected but instead to offer condolences on the death of her would-be husband.

But Ieflaria is desperately in need of help from Rhodia for their dragon problem, so Esofi is offered a new betrothal to Prince Albion’s younger sister, the new Crown Princess Adale. But Adale has no plans of taking the throne, leaving Esofi with more to battle than fire-breathing beasts.

Excerpt

The Queen of Inthya

Effie Calvin © 2018

All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Esofi

The castle at Birsgen had been built from cold gray stone, but the rooms within were warm and bright. Intricate tapestries and carpets in rich shades of crimson, emerald, and sapphire decorated the throne room, and a roaring fire at the far end of the room kept the worst of the chill that dwelled in the ancient stone at bay.

Princess Esofi of Rhodia sank into a curtsy, her elaborate skirts rustling softly in the silence. Before her were the velvet thrones of King Dietrich and Queen Saski of Ieflaria. Just behind her were the waiting ladies and battlemages who had accompanied her on the four-month journey to a land that would be her new home.

With Esofi’s entire retinue crowded inside, the throne room was not nearly as expansive as it ought to be. To make things even more uncomfortable, many of the residents of the Ieflarian court had gathered for the arrival of the princess, filling the room further.

Most of the Ieflarians Esofi had seen so far were dark-haired and fair-skinned with eyes of blue or gray, though in the larger cities she had encountered people who were clearly from far-off lands like Anora and Masim. The women usually wore their hair in braids, with younger girls allowing them to hang free and older women pinning them into coronets or coils. Esofi wished that she could take in their faces and study their reactions to her presence. But she knew she had to trust her ladies to do that for her while she devoted her attention to the regents.

“We welcome you to Ieflaria during this sad time,” said King Dietrich. “We regret that your arrival has been under such unfortunate circumstances.”

Esofi swallowed. Every Ieflarian they’d encountered since coming into the country had been dressed in gray or black or somber lavender. The queen herself was in a plain gray gown with only the simplest pearl circlet on her head, and the king wore a black velvet jacket over a gray tunic and breeches. Even the guards and servants wore black, instead of the crimson-and-gold livery that her books and tutors had told her to expect.

Esofi had worn her simplest dress out of respect, and her ladies had done the same. But Rhodian fashion was dramatically more opulent than the clothing found in Ieflaria, featuring lace accessories, layers of ruffled underskirts, and fabrics sewn with gemstones. Even the most subdued ensemble seemed disrespectfully lavish compared to the simple styles favored by the Ieflarians.

“Yes,” said Esofi. “I am deeply sorry.”

Three months. Crown Prince Albion, Esofi’s husband-to-be and heir to the throne of Ieflaria, had been dead for three months. Esofi had never met him, but they’d been exchanging letters since they were old enough to write. The loss still felt unreal, as though it were all a terrible joke.

“We are no longer able to uphold the contract that was signed fifteen years ago,” said Queen Saski. “You have the right to return home if you choose.”

She was wrong. Esofi could no more return home than she could transform into a bird and fly away.

“Your Majesties,” Esofi said. “Your lands have suffered greatly from dragon attacks in past years and will only continue to suffer if action is not taken. As the future queen, it was my intention to begin securing Ieflaria’s borders immediately. To this end, I have brought with me a company of the finest battlemages that the University of Rho Dianae has to offer.” She gestured to the back of the room where fifty mages stood in the midnight-blue robes that marked them as fully trained battlemages blessed by Talcia, Goddess of Magic. “But I believe this can still be accomplished, even now. I remain willing to marry your heir…your new heir.”

King Dietrich and Queen Saski both looked relieved, as if they had expected Esofi to pick up her skirts and flounce all the way back to Rho Dianae.

“For the sake of honoring the spirit of our agreement and protecting our homeland,” said King Dietrich, “we are willing to grant you this.”

Even though it had been her proposal, Esofi felt a soft pang in her heart at the words. Albion would have been gentle. Albion would have been kind. She had always considered herself lucky that her betrothed seemed to be noble in manner as well as blood and so near to her own age. Esofi had seen enough violent lords and vicious ladies to know that Iolar had smiled upon her when her parents had arranged her fate.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Esofi. “I think my parents would have little reason to object if the terms of the marriage were otherwise unchanged.”

“Then in three days, we will formalize the new agreement.” King Dietrich gestured to a servant who came hurrying to his side. Esofi could not hear what the king said to him, but the servant rushed from the room immediately.

Esofi tried to remember who exactly the heir to Ieflaria’s throne was now that Albion was gone. Surely, someone had told her at some point. The winged courier who had brought the news of Albion’s death might have mentioned it. But Esofi’s grief-stricken mind offered no names. Her gaze found the statue of Iolar, Fourth of the Ten, where it loomed behind Their Majesties’ thrones. She offered up a rapid prayer to him.

“We have prepared rooms for you,” said Queen Saski. “The servants will lead you to them. If they are not to your liking, you may arrange them however you wish.” Her smile was warm and possibly even genuine.

“Thank you,” said Esofi with another curtsy. “The journey has been long. It will be good to rest in a proper bed again.”

“You will have plenty of time to recover from your journey,” said Queen Saski. “We cannot begin wedding arrangements until one hundred days of mourning have passed. Tomorrow, you will join me for tea and meet my daughter, the Crown Princess Adale.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” began Esofi. “I…” But the rest of her words died in her throat as her mind caught up with her ears. Princess Adale. She had heard that name before. She was Albion’s younger sister and the only other child of King Dietrich and Queen Saski. Albion had mentioned her in his letters, spinning tales of their adventures and mischief.

But…a princess? Like most people, Esofi did not have a strong preference regarding the gender of the one she married. But marrying the same sex was a privilege that royalty was seldom able to indulge in, since the production of heirs usually took priority over all else. Two women could still manage it if one of them could hold a Changed shape long enough, but men had to be content with surrogates. Most of the nobility back home did not care to take such risks with their bloodlines. Perhaps it was different in Ieflaria. Or perhaps Their Majesties were merely desperate.

Fortunately, Queen Gaelle of Rhodia had instilled iron willpower in her children, and so Esofi was able to successfully fight back her urge to turn around and look to her ladies for their reactions. She realized the king and queen were still waiting for her to finish her sentence.

“I…think that will be lovely,” she completed. Then she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead as delicately as she could manage. “Goodness, how the journey has wearied me.”

“Then go, rest,” said Queen Saski. “We will speak again tomorrow.”

Dismissed at last, Esofi gave one last curtsy before turning and leading the procession from the room. Once they were out in the halls, Captain Henris approached her. He wore the same midnight robes as the other battlemages, but his were trimmed in silver embroidery. Captain Henris was not a young man any longer but had served Esofi well during the long journey, and she found that she trusted him implicitly.

“Your orders, Princess?” he asked.

“You may send the mages to the barracks,” Esofi said. “Tell them that I thank them for their service. And find me tomorrow morning, before I meet with Her Majesty.”

“Of course, Princess,” he said.

With the departure of the mages, the hall became significantly less crowded. Esofi turned her attention to her ladies. There were three of them, and all had come with her by choice. The first was Lady Lexandrie, the second daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Fialia and Esofi’s second cousin, who had been her waiting lady since they were thirteen. She was a tall woman with a cascade of golden hair and a regal demeanor. If Lexandrie had any faults, the foremost one was stubbornness, followed closely by an innate belief that no person in the world had ever worked as hard or suffered as desperately as she had in her eighteen years of life at the marble palace of Rho Dianae.

Next was Lady Mireille, daughter of the Baron and Baroness of Aelora. With six older siblings, her prospects in Rhodia had not been high—but her ambitions were. Esofi was still not entirely certain how the young woman had managed to win herself a place on the royal procession, but that didn’t matter now. Mireille’s traveling papers had proclaimed that she was sixteen years old, but her youthful face could have passed for twelve.

Mireille’s presence had been welcome on the long journey. She was a bright, cheerful young woman, desperately eager to please and only occasionally prone to simpering. She would rush eagerly to complete any task Esofi set them to, and Lexandrie was always happy to let her work in solitude until the assignment was minutes from being complete.

In some small way, Esofi felt that she and Mireille had a sort of kinship between them. While Lexandrie was certain to return to Rhodia someday, Mireille and Esofi never would. There was nothing left for them back there. Ieflaria would become their world now.

And last was Lady Lisette of Diativa, who was in actuality not a Lady, nor of Diativa, nor even named Lisette. She was a tiny woman with black eyes and hair the color of moonlight who could go days at a time without uttering a word. Esofi did not know for certain how many blades, lockpicks, and poisons Lisette had on her person, but she felt quite sure that the number was absurdly high. She was an unnerving girl until one became accustomed to her, but Esofi’s mother had insisted upon her presence in the royal carriage.

“Such a lovely welcome,” said Lexandrie in a bright and vapid tone. “Didn’t you think so, Princess?”

“Yes, of course,” said Esofi in an equally cheerful tone—she knew perfectly well that there could be any number of people listening in, waiting for some word against the co-regents or a sign of weakness. The fact that they spoke in the language of Rhodia was no protection against that. “I will be glad to rest my feet at last, though, and for a cup of tea.”

“Princess Esofi,” said a woman, emerging from the throne room behind them. She looked to be around the same age as Queen Saski and wore a lavender gown decorated with pearls. In keeping with the Ieflarian fashion, her long hair was in coiled braids. “I am Countess Amala of Eiben, waiting lady to Queen Saski. Her Majesty has asked me to show you to your new rooms.”

“Oh! Of course,” said Esofi, stepping aside so Amala could take the lead.

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Effie is definitely a human being with all her own skin, and not a robot. She writes science fiction and fantasy novels and lives with her cat in the greater Philadelphia area.

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