Wednesday, November 28, 2018

THE WEREWOLF WHISPERER by Camilla Ochlan and Bonita Gutierrez

Do you like kickass female characters? Then I've got a great deal for you. 

THE WEREWOLF WHISPERER



THE WEREWOLF WHISPERER SERIES

by Camilla Ochlan and Bonita Gutierrez

Ferocious Werewolf Virus Hits L.A.
Werebeasts Rampage Through The Streets. 
The City's In Chaos.
Nobody's Safe.

Enter Lucy Lowell, The Werewolf Whisperer.

Some call her savior.

Some call her bitch.

Xochi Magaña just calls her, FRIEND.

Together they kick Werebutt.

They thought there’d be no stopping them.

They didn’t know the half of it.

Welcome to the werewolf apocalypse. Hope you’re locked and loaded. 

You’ll chew right through this urban fantasy like a hound through a milk bone. 

Grab the series today! 


The Werewolf Whisperer, Book One
Now available on Amazon
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/werewolfwhisperer
Twitter: https://twitter.com/@wwwhisperer 

Saturday, November 24, 2018

The Chronicles of Jaydür by L.F Oake

The Lost Voice


The Lost Voice (The Chronicles of Jaydür Book 1)

Synopsis

The Voices of Jaydür have been murdered. When an immortal bodyguard named Archai brings news of their deaths, Caia Foriei is summoned to leave everyone she loves behind and assume the heavy mantle of her divine ancestor. But it’s not so easy. The sinstarians want the young soon-to-be Voices dead, and they’ll murder anyone in their path to get their way. To protect her from the growing threat to the Voices, Caia’s memories are shielded and she is hurled into another realm. In short time, Jaydür’s godless land and people plunge into decay and despair as Caia tries to recall who she once was and who she was 

Review

A fun, action-packed read. 
Caia is one of the next voices of Jaydur, a keeper of balance. She and the other voices are being chased by Goblins and sinistarians, the enemies of the Elves. 
To ensure Caia's safety a guardian is sent, Archai. He's got a ticket to the book crush list faaast. There is humour, heartbreak, love and fun. 
A must read for those who love fantasy. 

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2Xxu6Ou


Rise of The Elders


Rise of the Elders (The Chronicles of Jaydür Book 2)


Synopsis

The Voices of Jaydür are alive and well, but the Elders have assumed power—and they aren’t willing to give it up just yet. For two years, Caia has been hidden away on Terra in an attempt to keep her safe from the ruthless sinstarians, who will stop at nothing to capture the next Voice of Apan. But when Caia’s protective Sapient, Archai, tries to return her to her world, the unexpected happens, and an unfamiliar Sapient ushers her back to Jaydür instead. Where is Archai, the ascribed bodyguard Caia has come to trust? Could those who call themselves friends actually be plotting against her? Now, as the Voices enter the next terrifying phase, Caia must learn to cope with her newfound power or lose her sanity—and Jaydür.

Review

I had missed Archai! Give me a cold bastard with sass that deep down cares too much and I am in love. 
Caia is an easily likable character, she is brave and learns from her mistakes. We see her turn into a more mature woman as the plot develops and it is beautiful.
But just right before that, there's a memorable episode I re-read and laughed out loud with. 
A new character makes an appearance, Tanis, another Sapient, and good gods I loved to hate him or hate to love him, not sure. All I know is I want more of him.
A fast-paced, action-packed fantasy with refreshing lore and a good dose of humour I most definitely recommend.

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2U8BRrY

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

How not to summon a Demon

So, what happens when I am stuck with a scene in my two WIPs? I write a short story. It usually is related to my series, but I ran into this awesome Writing Prompt and Voila! Now I have another WIP! 
Um, I see a pattern here...


@Selenekwriter


HOW NOT TO SUMMON A DEMON.


“A cookbook!” I cry excitedly.

I stop on the page that has the title: the cure for colds.

That’s what grandma called chicken soup.

Maybe with grandma’s instructions, I can cook a semi-decent dinner without lighting the kitchen on fire.

I repeat the words, barely understanding myself. I must be drunker than I thought, and it doesn’t really sound like soup ingredients.

A flash of purple light coming from my left blinds me for a second.

“Ahh, the Hell!” I shriek.

I blink, fighting to see again, and then immediately regret it.

There is a giant man with wings in my kitchen. Black, towering wings full of shiny onyx feathers.

Not a man, I realize. A demon.

A shiver blasts down my spine.

Grandma had told me long ago about demons, and I would’ve believed she was completely nuts if I weren’t able to set things on fire and move things with my mind at times. Or if I had not seen her do magic.

“You are not my chicken soup, are you?” I ask.

His pale face is oddly emotionless, but his eyes flash with anger. “Do I look like a chicken to you?” he asks, voice arctic.

“Uh, well, in my defense, you are kinda feathery,” I mutter, gesturing towards his wings, unable to quench the drunken humor despite knowing he can fry me, quite literally.

Damn it, I should not have gotten wasted. But why in hell would grandma leave a grimoire in the kitchen?

Even weirder, how could I read the spell?

I can see the gibberish clear now, but it had seemed like English before.

The demon’s purple eyes narrow with suspicion, his towering black wings graze the ceiling. The faint scent of smoke and ash makes my nose itch, and I have to tilt my neck to look up at him. He’s about six-foot-eight, and the leathers enhance his powerful and elegant frame. I usually feel tall and awkward, but right now I feel tiny. My eyes roam his body and my gut clenches painfully. No hooves, no tail, and no stench.

I’ve not just summoned a demon, I’ve summoned a high-ranking demon. Only the most powerful demons look like him, almost completely human, grandma had explained. There’s a black crystal sword strapped to his hip, daggers on his thighs. Not to mention, somehow I can sense his unearthly contained power, like a massive chasm with no bottom, ancient and unending. I gulp.

Oh, gods. I’m so dead.

“And just why were you using magic to make chicken soup?” he asks, his tone mocking and disdainful.

“I wasn’t. I was trying to read a recipe for chicken soup.”

He cocks a brow and examines me as if to see if I’m lying, then he snorts. “Summoned by an inept half-human, shameful.”

“Hey!” I snap. “Watch your mouth!”

His face grows stony as he leans to my eye level. I keep my arms crossed in defiance even as my knees feel weak.

I’ve just shouted at a high-ranking demon.

That goes high on the stupid-shit-I’ve-done list.

He blinks and pulls back in surprise. “I’ve seen you before.”

“Uh, no you haven’t, I’m sure I’d remember.”

His wings vanish in a blink of purple light along with his leathers, a black suit and matching shirt replace it. It really doesn’t do much to dampen his intimidating aura.

His eyes focus on a spot above my head, and I follow his gaze to find my grandma’s photo sitting on a tall shelf. She is sitting on the porch with me on her lap, a book opened in front of us.

“Magdalena,” the demon mutters, surprise and recognition in his deep voice.

I freeze. “You know my grandma?”

A flicker of something akin to sadness flashes in his face so fast I’m not certain I’ve imagined it.

“When she was about your age, she summoned me as well,” he says, zeroing his gaze on me again. “Only she did it intentionally, and it had nothing to do with cooking.”

I blink. My grandma knew a demon. The same grandma who had warned me never to peek at her magic books and grimoires, to be a good little witch even if I felt like setting my bullies’ asses on fire.

Then something much more important finally hits me through the numbness of the rum.

“You called me half-human.”

“Did I?” he asks with calculating purple eyes. That unnervingly knowing gaze narrows on my left cheek. “What happened?” he demands, jerking his chin to point at the growing, throbbing bruise.

“I fell,” I lie.

He cocks a brow. “On what? A male’s fist? You summoned me using my real name, which means I am bound to do a deed for you. Give me the name of the idiot so I can deal with him and go back to my business.”

I blink, feeling my stomach cramp with uneasiness.

“There’s no need for you to intervene. He is much worse than I am, believe me,” I say, trying to keep my voice leveled. “And unless you want to make me my chicken soup, I have no use for demon favors.”

“For now,” he says, his tone giving me chills. I recoil as he leans to take the old notebook from the counter. The heat of his body makes me shiver. I’ve not turned on the heating.

“Where is Magdalena? I’d like to give her a little talk about hiding such material better.”

I blink several times as the old notebook magically turns into a leather-bound book. The pages are yellow and full of symbols and what I think now is some form of Latin.

“How did you—”

“It was glamoured,” the demon says, eyes hard on my face. “where is Magdalena?”

Icy pain cuts through my chest. I blink fast. “The funeral is tomorrow.”

He goes preternaturally still. “How did she die?” he demands.

I swallow, my throat clenching. “Heart attack.”

His brow knits as a horrific thought crosses my mind.

“She’s not… I mean, she knew how to summon demons.” Oh gods, I think I will vomit. “She’s not in hell, is she? Please tell me she’s not.”

He snorts. “Foolish girl, a mortal must exchange their soul for wealth or power in order to end up in Hell, or have done wicked deeds. Her soul was among the purest I’ve ever encountered.”

I breathe again as the room spins. The rum, lack of sleep, and hunger are taking a toll.

To my surprise, the demon catches me and sets me down on a chair, his hands warm against my arms, face a few inches away. Just then, I notice how extraordinarily handsome he is; sharp features, and pale skin that makes a beautiful contrast with inky black hair. His purple eyes lose some hostility as he examines me back. Amethyst, I realize. His irises look like they’re made of perfectly cut and polished amethysts.

His head snaps toward the door, brow furrowing.

“What—” I begin to ask as the door is pounded several times.

I flinch. The noise does not help with the throbbing headache.

“Dinah! I know you’re there! Open the door, you little bitch!” Daniel screams.

My eyes widen. How did that psycho find me so fast?

Fear rears its ugly head and I can’t help but shake. I’m in no shape for round two. The bruises still hurt and I feel too weak.

The demon growls, startling me, and moves towards the door with long strides. He opens the door and Daniel’s blue eyes widen in terror. His forehead has a big purple bump from where I hit him with the skillet.

The demon looks down at Daniel as if he’s a particularly annoying rat, and then he takes the six-foot-two football player by the collar and hauls him off his feet as if he’s weightless.

“I see you weren’t lying about fighting back,” the demon says to me as he takes in Daniel’s wound, voice as cold as ice, amethyst eyes bright with an eerie glow. “Nevertheless, I say he’s earned a little reprieve, don’t you?”

Before I can answer, the demon sends an invisible coil of chilly power around Daniel, who lets out an unearthly wail and flailing madly for a second before the demon drops him to the ground.

Thanks to the heavens, there are no neighbors around for at least a couple of miles.

Daniel picks himself up, still wailing like a banshee, and runs to his car, rushing inside and revving it up. Mud is lifted off the damp ground as he maneuvers out of the property in a matter of seconds.

“There, he will not be back, I can assure you that,” the demon says, eyes normal again, his expression slightly less murderous.

I stare at him, stunned. He didn’t get a request out of me, but still helped me. I can’t deny a dark part of me enjoyed the sheer terror he put into Daniel, but I don’t want to owe him. “Dammit, I would’ve preferred you making me that chicken soup.”

He sighs. “We will see each other soon.”

“Huh? Why? I thought the deal was o—”

He disappears, just like that, in a blink of amethyst light.

I swallow and close the door, staring into the empty living room.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

Even though it is quite insane to thank a demon for scaring off your obsessive ex-boyfriend.

Meh, I’ve done crazier.

©Selene Kallan, 2018.

****UPDATE: Here's the novel inspired by this prompt: DEMON WARDEN. Tap the image to download!
 




Comment with Facebook

HUNTRESS SOULMATE by Selene Kallan

Blurb: BORN TO DESTROY EACH OTHER. BONDED BY DESTINY . Fae Warrior Prince Axel has defeated many flesh and blood demons, but not the darknes...