This is the ending to the spoof story that was the debut of the ALBTALBS + Cover Remix Super Fun Secret Project! Many thanks to Silver James for being such a great sport, and more, for being the first to bravely step up. I hope you’ve enjoyed this story that she came up with based solely on the cover art Jen created! (If you missed any of the previous chapters, just click on the book cover. It’ll link you to them.)
Chapter Four: In Which There are Skyrockets and Much Gushing
He watched her from the mirror, disconcerted by being in two places at once. His heart remained in the rose but he could feel his soul reforming around his essence in the mirror. He wanted to break free, to return to his manhood so he could gather the woman into his arms, touch her, kiss her, burying his shaft into her womanly depths to the hilt. If he’d been wearing clothes, his cock would be straining any zipper that tried to confine his need. Continue reading →
Another Thursday, another installment from the fabulous Silver James. And an additional hat tip to the incredibly talented cover artist, Jen of Cover Remix. You can see the cover in more detail here and leave her comments if you like. But without further ado… the story. If you missed chapter one last week, check it out.
Chapter Two: In Which Something Familiar This Way Comes
Drake Rosenblum was pummeled both by the gale-force winds and the tempest of the emotions roiling in his stomach. Tossed and turned like a storm-tossed leaf, he clung to his sanity. He’d lost his humanity long ago and had no hope of breaking the spell that ensorcelled his soul. Continue reading →
The debut of the newest ALBTALBS Project!!! I’m so excited! Remember my Parrot Shifters? And the lovely brave authors who took on that challenge? Well, here’s the next challenge. To kick off this new bit of fun we have Silver James – I hope you enjoy! We’ll be serializing this, so look for it every Thursday in May!
Cursed by the witches he once served, will a familiar’s wicked ways win the heart of a newly schooled witch–and his freedom? Find out in Wicked Familiar.
In Which Fizzy Casts Her First Spell
Lightning flashed. Thunder crashed. The night was dark and stormy. Francesca Isabella Foxtrot—her friends called her Fizzy—had retrieved the mail just before the storm broke in all its tempestuous glory. Waiting with baited breath, as the anchovies on her luncheon pizza were now repeating on her, Fizzy stared at the package with a mixture of excitement and dread. Continue reading →
Today we have the wonderful Silver James sharing an excerpt with us! Really no other introduction is needed.
If you could go back, do it over again, would you take a chance to find true love?
What if you had no choice?
On her fiftieth birthday, the faerie send Rebecca Miller a thousand years into the past to find her happily ever after with Ciaran MacDermot, Chief of Clann MacDermot, the last Fenian warrior in his line. In the twenty-first century, Becca is old enough to be Ciaran’s mother. In the tenth, she’s young enough to be his bride.
The fae forgot to mention one slight stipulation. The lovers must be bound before the Festival of Light, or Becca will forever disappear into Tir Nan Óg, the faerie Land of the Ever Young.
Will they discover the binding words before time runs out and they’re torn apart forever? Or will their eternal love defeat their Faerie Fate?
Without the words, history is doomed to repeat itself.
SET UP: Becca, the heroine of FAERIE FATE, has been kidnapped by Manannán Mac Lir, one of the faerie kings. In this scene, she meets another faerie nemesis:
“Who are you?” She asked bluntly.
“I am Abhean,” he said. “Harper of the Tuatha dé Danaan.”
She glanced at the pipes. “I thought harpers played harps,” she replied caustically.
A sardonic grin split the faerie’s face. “A harper plays many instruments.” He took her hand and tugged her down to join him on the rock. He sighed, looking her over from top to bottom and back again. “Ah, cailín but I could play you like the finest instrument of all.”
One strong finger traced her cheek as he stared deeply into her eyes and saw the hunger, the longing that lurked in her soul. “But ’tis not me ’twill have the pleasure,” he added, the spun sugar in his voice no longer sweet but burnt.
“What is this place?” Becca didn’t feel polite.
Abhean sighed again. “Land of the Ever Young.” He tilted his head. “This should be a land of peace and joy for all mortals who find their way here. I fear ’twill never be so for you, cailín. Mac Lir thought to do you a favor when he brought you here. He did not want to return you to that other life, the one filled with pain and suffering. Without the binding, your heart would never be whole, so he sought to bring you what peace and solace he could.”
“He tried to seduce me.”
Abhean chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Nay, cailín. If he had truly meant to do the deed, he would have succeeded.”
“Not bloody likely.” Her lip curled into a silent snarl.
Abhean chortled, truly amused now. “Methinks Manannán Mac Lir underestimates you, Child of the Mortals.” He stared at her again. “Rebecca.” Her name dripped off his tongue like the finest melted chocolate. “Do you know what your name means, Child?” He took up his pipes and began another song, this one not quite so plaintive. He watched Becca out of the corner of his eye.
Becca stared off toward the misty, blue mountains, listening to the music. When Abhean stopped to catch his breath, she quizzed him. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” he countered.
“Know what my name means.”
“I never ask a question I dinnit know the answer to,” he answered cryptically in his sweet, lilting voice.
“So what does it mean?”
“Bound. Or chosen, if you like.” He put his full lips to the reed of the pipe and played again.
Becca gazed at the mountains, her chin propped in the palm of her hand. She glanced at the Harper out of the corner of her eye. A little smile tried not to twitch in the corner of her mouth. These faeries, or Sídhe, or Tuatha dé Danaan, or whatever they were called were an egotistical lot.
“If you are the Harper,” she prodded, “then you must know all the old tales?” She cocked her eyebrow at him, daring him to answer.
The Harper’s eyes glinted with mischievous lights, and he grinned down at the beautiful woman sitting at his feet. The puckish breeze teased her hair, wrapping a silken strand of it around his leg. He sighed. He understood now why the mortal wanted her so much, and why Mac Lir was so determined to keep her. Well, he had his own score to settle with Mac Lir. “Oh, aye, I know them all and wrote most of them,” he hinted.
“Then tell me a tale,” she challenged..
So what did you think? Did you like what you read? Interested in more? Ms. James is giving away one lucky commenter a copy of Faerie Fate – in either print or digital. Winner’s choice! Yay!
Today, we have Silver James, who is a life saver and otherwise lovely person as well! She’s super sweet (I got to meet her a few weeks ago), and she even let me attend a champagne breakfast! (I made myself a mimosa. Yum!) Anyway, she’s also an author, and we’ve got an exclusive excerpt from one of her stories today. Silver is so awesome, in fact, that she’s also doing a giveaway!
Without further ado… the excerpt! (Of course with book blurb first. The formatting isn’t playing nice, but I figure that’s not the most important aspect.)
If you could go back, do it over again, would you take a chance to find true love? What if you had no choice?
On her fiftieth birthday, the faerie catapult Rebecca Miller a thousand years into the past to find her happily ever after with Ciaran MacDermot, Chief of Clann MacDermot, the last Fenian warrior in his line. In the twenty-first century, Becca is old enough to be Ciaran’s mother. In the tenth, she’s young enough to be his bride.
The fae forgot to mention one slight stipulation. The lovers must be bound before the Festival of Light, or Becca will forever disappear into Tir Nan Óg, the faerie Land of the Ever Young. Will they discover the binding words before time runs out and they’re torn apart forever? Or will their eternal love defeat their Faerie Fate?
Without the words, history is doomed to repeat itself.
Becca didn’t want to open her eyes even though the camp stirred outside the tent. Men and horses snorted and stamped. Ciaran had wrapped his arms around her at some point, and all three wolfhounds, Bhruic, Winken, and Blinken, were curled up at her back. She was still so tired she could barely move and guessed she’d only slept two hours or less. At least, Ciaran’s fever had broken, and he was sleeping easier.
She moved and Ciaran’s arms tightened around her. He growled softly in his sleep. “You’re as bad as the dogs,” she complained. “I’m just checking the bandage.” She fought loose from his embrace and sat up. She pulled away the covers and wasn’t surprised to find Ciaran aroused. “I swear,” she swore under her breath, “all he thinks about is tupping.” The bandage was soaked through with nasty yellow pus, and she yanked it away. The wound looked less angry now though it still drained. She replaced the herb poultice and bandage with fresh and was just about to lay back down when all three dogs snapped to ferocious attention. Panicked cries echoed from the outlying sentries, and suddenly the area around the tent erupted with violent activity. Men ran this way and that, drawing swords and looking for the enemy.
Alarmed, Becca found her sword belt and cinched it around her waist. The dirk she’d used on Ciaran’s wound was back in its scabbard and hiding beneath the blanket she’d wadded up to use as a pillow. She snagged it, jammed it through her belt, and then reached for her boots. Ciaran stirred, his hand reaching for his sword.
“No,” Becca told him firmly. “You’re in no shape to fight.”
“I can’t just lie here, cailín,” he growled weakly.
“Not only can you, but you will,” she growled back. She did move his scabbard closer so his big fist could close around the hilt. “As a last resort,” she cautioned, turning to leave.
His hand snagged her ankle. “Where are you going?” Groaning, he pushed up on an elbow. “You have to stay here where I can protect you.”
Becca shook her foot loose and danced out of his reach. “You’ll be lucky to protect yourself.” She smiled to take the sting from her words, knowing it was vitally important to him and his honor that he keep her safe. “I am not without ability with a sword, Ciaran. I will protect myself. Stay with him,” she ordered the hounds as she slipped through the tent flap.
“Nay, with her,” Ciaran told the dogs. The three dogs obediently followed her out into the melee.
Becca found Riordan and Taidhg standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the tent, their swords drawn. Eddies of men clashed all around the campsite. The hobelars were at a distinct disadvantage. They were bowman, used to being mounted and mobile. In the hand-to-hand fighting taking place, their bows were useless. The troop of horse carried both sword and lance and those soldiers were more adept at fighting on foot. As they watched the fight, Niall seemed to be everywhere. Suddenly, he was nowhere to be seen. The men exchanged worried looks. Becca turned to Riordan.
“Go,” she ordered. “Taidhg and I will guard him,” indicating the tent with her chin. She pulled her sword and brandished it in the air.
Riordan hesitated just a moment for he’d spotted Niall surrounded and about to be overcome. Then he was gone, diving into the fray.
Taidhg gave her an apprehensive look.
Becca smiled at him. “You have my back, Taidhg, as I have yours. Together we shall keep the MacDermot safe this day.”
Her voice was filled with such utter conviction Taidhg did not doubt her words. Before he could reply, two men were upon them.
The wolfhounds dashed everywhere, nipping and tearing where they could sink their teeth into flesh, but darting away too quickly to take a blow from the swords or dirks aimed their way. Becca and Taidhg fought shoulder to shoulder. Taidhg finished off his man and turned his sword on Becca’s. In short order, that man was dead, too. Slowly, the MacDermot troops got the upper hand. The pile of bodies in front of the tent continued to grow. Riordan and Niall split up, each working their way through their soldiers to rally them.
At one point, Niall turned to check on the tent. He groaned when he realized Becca and Taidhg were back-to-back fighting off four attackers. There were too many O’Brien fighters between them for him to get there in time. Then, as he watched, Becca slashed the throat of one and her sword continued in one smooth motion to block the thrust of the second. Her left hand followed the path of her right and she buried her dirk up to its hilt beneath the arm of the other attacker. Like a dancer, she whirled, freeing the dirk and spinning to take on the second man attacking Taidhg.
“Makes you want to weep for joy, doesn’t it?” Riordan laughed as he appeared at Niall’s shoulder. “What babies the two of them will make!” With that, the younger man was off seeking other prey.
“Aye and aye,” Niall agreed before turning to find his own quarry.
Bio: With a rampant imagination aided and abetted by a Muse who runs with scissors, Silver James loves to share the stories created in that vast comic void pretending to be her mind. Over the course of her lifetime, she’s been a military officer’s wife, mother, state appellate court marshal, airport rescue firefighter and forensic fire photographer, crime analyst, technical crime scene investigator, and writer. Retired from the “real world” now, she lives in Oklahoma and spends her days at the computer with her two Newfoundland dogs, the cat who rules them all, and myriad characters all clamoring for attention. To find out more about Silver, visit her at www.silverjames.com
So what’d you think? Got any questions for Silver? What about the premise, setting, or characters? It’s definitely not what you typically think of, yes? One lucky commenter will win his or her choice of a digital or print copy of Faerie Fate! Whee!