Kathleen Rear

Liberty Jones Excerpt

Kathleen Rear

May 5, 2023

The launch of THE INCREDIBLE ADVENTURES OF LIBERTY JONES is only a two months away!

Here is an excerpt to tide you over!

Chapter 5

The terminal was busy, she swerved around the flow of hurried people craning her neck looking for Edward. There! By the newsstand near the exits. He was turned away from her as she ran toward him examining something in the light coming through the big windows above the exit doors.

A glimmer of gold and the flash of yellow citrine grasped in his fingertips had Libby growling. Was that why he had befriended her, was it why he’d turned on the charm, just to rob her? And she’d fallen for it to! Fool, stupid, stupid, fool!

Libby swung her portmanteau at his legs connecting with the backs of his knees. He tumbled over with a shout of surprise, the scarab flying out of his fingers. Libby watched as it arced landing a few feet away, she raced after it her case forgotten. Edward ran by her to pick up the scarab first.

“That’s mine!” she growled, lunging for it only to have him snatch it away holding it out of her reach. He smiled at her, is blue eyes twinkling as if it was all a game. “Bastard!”

A guard began making his way over, Edward noticed him too and Libby took advantage of his momentary distraction, socking him in the ribs. She grabbed onto his wrist trying to pry his fingers open with her other hand.

Just then a high-pitched whine, like an alarm, began coming from Edward’s closed fist. He opened his hand and they both gasped, the scarab was crawling around on Edward’s palm, its wings unfurling as if it would take flight!

Libby grabbed for it, but Edward closed his fingers around her hand trapping it within his grasp her palm pressed against his. Bright light seeped out from between their clasped fingers, it grew brighter and began to flash. The air crackled with electricity, jagged bolts swirling around them, the terminal and people began to warp and twist in a vertigo inducing swirl of light and color. She felt locked in place unable to move.

Libby blinked up at Edward and saw his wide-eyed expression, and she knew that whatever was occurring wasn’t just happening to her. The phenomenon stopped all at once, and Libby felt her shoes touch the ground her legs absorbing a small jolt. She and Edward sprang apart each taking a breath as if surfacing from a depth.

“Wha…” she began, her head still spinning.

Edward was already on the move toward the exit, she looked down at her hands to find them empty. He still had her brooch!

“Stop!” she yelled after him.

Her legs wobbly, she tried to run after him but stumbled. A man stepped over to steady her, holding her by her elbow.

“Miss are you alright?” the man asked. He had a big fluffy mustache and bushy eyebrows that seemed to support the brim of his bowler hat.

“No!” she sobbed. “That man with the flat cap and the leather bag stole my brooch!”

“What!”

“He’s just gone,” she pointed at the exit.

The man bounded after Edward rushing out the exit by the newsstand.

How could she have been so stupid! She pressed her hands to her stomach feeling nauseous. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself but the stench in the air made it worse. She coughed, the smell of soot and oil strong in her nose. She looked around to see what could be making such a smell and froze.

She blinked, wondering if perhaps she had suffered a stroke. The terminal looked different, its architecture like the photos she’d seen of the station from a hundred years ago. Similarly, the men and women she saw no longer wore the standard twenty-first century travel uniform of sweatpants, t-shirts, and slip-on shoes, but were clothed in wool suits, long bustled skirts, hats, and gloves. Shaking her head, she tried to make the vision go away but it persisted.

“What in heaven’s name?” she said aloud.

A boy stood in front of the newsstand waving a paper. “Enormous coal vein discovered in Kentucky!” he yelled at passersby. “Results at Saratoga! No-toe Charlie arrested for thievery! All the news that’s fit to print—two cents!”

Libby wandered over feeling lightheaded again. The boy smiled as she approached and held out the paper to her. “Paper, Miss?”

She shook her head. “Can you tell me what day it is?” she asked him.

“It’s Friday, Miss,” he replied, giving her a quizzical look.

“No, I mean what is today’s date, what year is it?”

The boy’s expression turned suspicious, “It’s… 1887,” he told her, stepping away. Then under his breath, “Nutty broad.”

Libby turned away feeling at a total loss. Was this really happening? As if in answer to her question she heard her name being called and looked to see Charlotte hurrying toward her from across the terminal waving and smiling.

Hummus

Kathleen Rear

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April 28, 2023

Very versatile, hummus is really easy to make.

Classic Hummus

2 cans Chickpeas (aka Garbanzo Beans. I used some that I put up last winter ☺️)

2-3 tablespoons Reserved Canning Liquid

1/2 cup Tahini

2-3 tablespoons Lemon Juice

2 cloves Grated Garlic (or very very finely chopped)

1 tablespoon Ground Cumin

1 tablespoon Paprika

2 teaspoons Salt

2 teaspoons Pepper

Drain chickpeas reserving the liquid from the can. (You might need more than above so I save it all)

Place all the ingredients into the bowl of and food processor or blender and pulse until creamy. Have a taste and adjust seasoning to your liking. If it seems too thick add more canning liquid.

Spoon into a container with a lid and store in the fridge. I decorate the top with cumin and paprika. You could also garnish the top with diced olives or artichokes

Not sure how long it stores for because it’s usually gone in a week!

Serve with pita chips or alongside roasted or grilled lamb or chicken.

Liberty Jones Publication Date!

Kathleen Rear

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November 21, 2022

The Incredible Adventures of Liberty Jones will be available on July 14th 2023!

Watch this space for more information. You’ll be able to pre order soon!

Liberty Jones Cover Reveal!

Kathleen Rear

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August 31, 2022

Several versions of the cover were in the works with much hemming and hawing. The space needed for the very long title caused problems galore, TIAOLJ (even the initials are unwieldy) is kind of steampunk but not quite, kind of fantasy but not quite, sort of historical fiction but not really. What kind of cover would suit?

Secret ciphers, trains, bug shaped brooches, creaky old summer cottages, horses, fatal boat races and the most dangerous flower in America are all very much a big part of the plot but you don’t just throw all of it on the cover of a book unless you want to end up the subject of the Smart Bitches Cover Snark (it’s a laugh, and to be honest I wouldn’t be too upset if I made it there one day)

So when I saw the below picture I nearly fell off my office chair! It’s her! That’s Libby!

So! Without further nattering I give you the cover for The Incredible Adventures of Liberty Jones:

Liberty Jones comes from a family of historians. Raised by her aunt Deidre she had an unconventional childhood filled with historically accurate dress-up and lessons ranging from how to decipher hieroglyphics to how to load and fire a flintlock pistol.

Recently earning her master’s degree, Libby receives the gift of her aunt’s heirloom scarab brooch and a ticket for the Coast-to-Coast Cosplay Connection, a cross country train trip for clothing historians and cosplay enthusiast’s. Libby packs her bustles and corsets and eagerly hops aboard looking forward to spending five days in the 19th century.

On the train she meets the handsome and charming Edward. Flattered by his attention Libby strikes up a traveler’s friendship.

Once in New York Libby finds Edward has disembarked without so much as a goodbye, but more urgently her brooch is gone! She catches up to Edward on the crowded train platform red handed with her brooch! In the ensuing scuffle to get it back the brooch begins to glow, and the scarab seems to come to life! The world around them warps and shifts and she and Edward are transported backward in time to the year 1887.

Though she might be a fish out of water Libby is prepared, in fact she’s been preparing her whole life for this precise situation. She finally understands the secret of the Jones family line. She was not born into a family of historians but rather a family of time travelers!

Now Libby must navigate the rules and rituals of New York’s Gilded Age to find Edward if she ever hopes to get back home.

Liberty Jones is due to be released in 2023

Summer Bookworm + Links!

Kathleen Rear

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August 5, 2022

Hello all!

Have you been having a busy summer? I have! You know all those things that were put off until after we could come up for air these past few years? All the birthdays, weddings, vacations, family get togethers, holidays, not to mention helping our son move house from Colorado! All of it! That’s what’s been going on.

I’ve been working on the new book too.

Along the way i’ve been saving the links and the book recommendations that have floated my fancy. And here they are!

First the Links:

Moonbath is a company run by the gal whose house we stayed at in Colorado this spring. If bathtime is a ritual for you I highly recommend you checking it out!

I’ve been taking a bigger interest keeping house plants. Planterina has been my crazy plant lady guru!

The husband LOVES pickled veggies! This summer I learned to pickle carrots. It’s the first step in my pickle arsenal!

What is the song lyrics you mishear the most? For me it’s the chorus of “Blinded By the Light” by Manfred Mann’s Earth Band. Drove me crazy! Then I looked it up.

Did you know THE SANDMAN is now a series on Netflix? Makes my little fangirl heart so happy!

Now for the Books!

I started out my summer with Nora Roberts’ Nightwork.

Greed. Desire. Obsession. Revenge . . . It’s all in a night’s work.

Harry Booth started stealing at nine to keep a roof over his ailing mother’s head, slipping into luxurious, empty homes at night to find items he could trade for precious cash. When his mother finally succumbed to cancer, he left Chicago—but kept up his nightwork, developing into a master thief with a code of honor and an expertise in not attracting attention?or getting attached.
Until he meets Miranda Emerson, and the powerful bond between them upends all his rules. But along the way, Booth has made some dangerous associations, including the ruthless Carter LaPorte, who sees Booth as a tool he controls for his own profit. Knowing LaPorte will leverage any personal connection, Booth abandons Miranda for her own safety—cruelly, with no explanation—and disappears.
But the bond between Miranda and Booth is too strong, pulling them inexorably back together. Now Booth must face LaPorte, to truly free himself and Miranda once and for all.

The sequel to For the Wolf!

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The First Daughter is for the Throne

The Second Daughter is for the Wolf…

Red and the Wolf have finally contained the threat of the Old Kings but at a steep cost. Red’s beloved sister Neve, the First Daughter is lost in the Shadowlands, an inverted kingdom where the vicious gods of legend have been trapped for centuries and the Old Kings have slowly been gaining control. But Neve has an ally, though it’s one she’d rather never have to speak to again: the rogue king Solmir.

Solmir wants to bring an end to the Shadowlands and he believes helping Neve may be the key to its destruction. But to do that, they will both have to journey across a dangerous landscape in order to find a mysterious Heart Tree, and finally to claim the gods’ dark, twisted powers for themselves.

You’d think that Gabriel Allon could stay out of trouble now that he’s retired.

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Legendary spy and art restorer Gabriel Allon has at long last severed ties with Israeli intelligence and settled quietly in Venice, the only place where he has ever truly known peace. His beautiful wife, Chiara, has taken over the day-to-day management of the Tiepolo Restoration Company, and their two young children are discreetly enrolled in a neighborhood scuola elementare. For his part, Gabriel spends his days wandering the streets and canals of the watery city, bidding farewell to the demons of his tragic, violent past.

But when the eccentric London art dealer Julian Isherwood asks Gabriel to investigate the circumstances surrounding the rediscovery and lucrative sale of a centuries-old painting, he is drawn into a deadly game of cat and mouse where nothing is as it seems.

Gabriel soon discovers that the work in question, a portrait of an unidentified woman attributed to Sir Anthony van Dyck, is almost certainly a fiendishly clever fake. To find the mysterious figure who painted it—and uncover a multibillion-dollar fraud at the pinnacle of the art world—Gabriel conceives one of the most elaborate deceptions of his career. If it is to succeed, he must become the very mirror image of the man he seeks: the greatest art forger the world has ever known.

New to me series set in Paris. This was my favorite set in a witchy chocolate shop.

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Welcome to La Maison des Sorcieres. Where the window display is an enchanted forest of sweets, a collection of conical hats delights the eye and the habitués nibble chocolate witches from fanciful mismatched china. While in their tiny blue kitchen, Magalie Chaudron and her two aunts stir wishes into bubbling pots of heavenly chocolat chaud.

But no amount of wishing will rid them of interloper Philippe Lyonais, who has the gall to open one of his world famous pastry shops right down the street. Philippe’s creations seem to hold a magic of their own, drawing crowds of beautiful women to their little isle amidst the Seine, and tempting even Magalie to venture out of her ivory tower and take a chance, a taste. . .a kiss.

Parisian princesses, chocolate witches, pâtissier princes and sweet wishes–an enchanting tale of amour et chocolat.

And finally this short story about a character mentioned in Sourdough.

At last, the story that definitively bridges the world of Sourdough to that of Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. It’s all one Penumbraverse.

James Bascule is adrift. College beckons—but not quite strongly enough to actually get him to campus. A trip to Europe showed him a world bigger than his Northern California upbringing—and yet, one broken heart later, Northern California is where he’s returned. Back to his old bedroom, paying his bemused parents rent with his new hobby, baking bread with the sourdough starter that is his only souvenir of what was apparently just a summer fling.

The future is being built an hour or two down the highway—it’s 1985; the twenty-first century is just around the corner!—but that’s not his world either. While sitting in a Sonoma County bar, indulging in a little aimless day drinking with a junior college acquaintance, he meets a man. A man with . . . something like a plan. Has James ever heard of a “suitcase clone”? It’s a cutting of a vine used to clone and propagate noteworthy grapes—say, from a legendary European vineyard to an upstart Napa Valley operation. This man has an operation. He has a suitcase. He just needs an enterprising young accomplice up for an adventure.

Just how deliriously fun and thrillingly mind-expanding an adventure, James can’t yet know. But we, of course, know how Robin Sloan crafts a story. Crossing the international literary-techno-conspiracy of Mr. Penumbra with the delicious experimentation of Sourdough, The Suitcase Clone is a tale that enriches and expands the Penumbraverse in ways you never saw coming, told by a mysterious narrator with an unexpected perspective on the great puzzles of life. Who could it be?

Also! Stay tuned right here for the cover reveal for THE INCREDIBLE ADVENTURES OF LIBERTY JONES, later this month!

Anniversary Special Excerpt: Children of the Serpent

Kathleen Rear

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June 23, 2022

Seamless watercolor pattern with tropical flowers, magnolia, orange flower, vanilla orchid, tropical leaves, banana leaves, snake

Of all the books in the series I had to map out every move for Children of the Serpent. All those loose ends I left dangling had to be tied up but didn’t know how! (post it notes are a writer’s best friend!) And others like this character I knew the outcome for all the way back in the first draft of the first book.

Children of the Serpent: The Final Book of the Revel Night Saga

Twenty-three

Sarah smiled as the girls’ laughter drifted from upstairs. She often envied her granddaughters, having a sister seemed wonderful. One had a partner in crime, a confidant, and, when needed, someone to kick you in the ass.

Sarah had been lonely growing up, her father’s family never accepted her. It had been apparent from the beginning she wasn’t a normal child. Able to hear what the trees gossiped about and wishing the flowers good morning earned her the reputation as a kook. It set her apart from everyone else and she soon realized if she didn’t what to continue to be “Crazy Sarah,” she would have to blind her eyes to what she could see, deafen her ears to what spoke to her.

She got good at it, passing for normal, and her deception was complete when she began to date and eventually marry a human man named David Bright. They had been happy for a time, but Sarah’s true nature had been hard to suppress.

Then she had met Niall, a wild and beautiful Faerie, and she’d been tempted beyond all reason for a taste of the life denied her. She believed he was in love with her, believed he would leave his wife and she her husband and they would run away together. Her hopes and her heart were broken when Niall had grown bored with her revealing he was not the least bit interested in leaving his rich and titled wife, Elspeth Glenghlas.

David learned of her betrayal and left her. He had never contacted she or Stella again. It was just deserts; she’d been stupid and reckless. She had raised their daughter alone, lonely once more.

She’d been bitter toward the Fae; they had brought nothing but sorrow into her life. She let that feeling fester for a long time turning her against even her own daughter. The actions she had taken at the time had nearly doomed both she and Stella to lives of pain and resentment.

Her past seemed like the life of another woman now. She and Stella had been reunited with their Faerie kin, Stella was happy in her marriage and had her hands full with three beautiful children and a career as a Pathfinder. And herself? Sarah toyed with the chunky emerald and Drakon claw necklace draped around her neck. She’d finally achieved a happily ever after too. Almost.

As leader of the Wild Hunt, Hunter was bound to his vow. He had long ago sold himself to the hunt and once bound, it was forever. Why he had done so was a mystery, for once one surrendered themselves to it their memories, knowledge of who they were before, was stripped.

They were under the command of the Seelie Queen who used them sometimes as mercenaries but most often to fill her trophy room with exotic and rare species. They ranged the wilds of Faerie, the hunt a never-ending revelry of drinking, camaraderie, and sport. Sarah and Hunter could only be together twice a year, on the nights of the summer and winter solstice when they hunted in the Mortal realm.

For years, Sarah would hide in the tree line surrounding the meadow on the solstice and watch the Wild Hunt as they set forth on their bi-annual excursion into the Mortal realm, hoping to glimpse their leader.

She’d pictured herself riding beside him many times. It was a silly fantasy, her and the leader of the Wild Hunt.

However, he had been aware of her watching him and he had come looking for her. He offered her a place at his side, and she’d been tempted, but she couldn’t miss out on becoming a grandmother and enjoying the renewed relationship with Sibah, she hadn’t been ready for oblivion, even if it meant eternity with Hunter. Now, however. She thought about it more and more. She wasn’t getting any younger, she’d be sixty in April, though thanks to her Faerie bloodline she didn’t remotely look it.

If she joined him, she would forget her whole life up until she took the vow, for her there would only be the hunt and she would only be the hunter. But there was time yet for decisions of this magnitude after all this crap with the Phaji was over. She had faith her son-in-law and grandson would lead the Shadows to victory again. She had to believe it, the alternative was too grim to consider.

Picking up the television remote she turned on the idiot box hoping to turn her mood around. She’d pondered herself into a funk, what she needed was some mind candy. There was a lot of that on offer these days. Weird game shows, dubious survival programs, not to mention too many so-called reality shows to count, all courtesy of the Demonic realm. Most media, social and otherwise was produced by Demons.

Though apparently not today, the screen was full of nothing but static. Jiggling the connection at the cable box wasn’t a help either. She pressed a few random buttons on the remote and a picture sprung into view. The scene on the screen was of total mayhem.

Demons in fancy dresses and formal wear were running for cover and huddling in groups while a force of human men flung fireballs from their bare hands at the stage in a huge arena carved from stone. This was no action movie! Sarah saw Daniel Acer draw a trident and defend the people around him. This was Queen Morag’s coronation ceremony! Following the death of her brother, Alocer, she was supposed to be crowned Satan the Sixth. What in the Sam-hill was happening!

“Girls!” she hollered. “Girls!” She turned from the TV and ran up the stairs.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the excerpts! Happy 4 year anniversary to the Revel Night Saga!

You can buy the whole series by clicking this LINK!

Be well my friends!

Anniversary Special Excerpt: The Fallen Shadow

Kathleen Rear

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June 22, 2022

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When I got to The Fallen Shadow I was so excited to write the following scene! Liv’s slow transformation was carefully crafted so the final battle in which she… (hahaha! Your gonna have to read the book!) Here’s a taste of what’s to come.

The Fallen Shadow: Book Three of the Revel Night Saga

Forty-one

Livia was happy with her choice of footwear for a change. Without wings she’d had to walk up the Stairway, and although it wasn’t miles and miles of stairs, by the time they had reached the top she was out of breath and her thighs were screaming at her to stop.

Tynan had suggested they rest a few times but her pride had kept her from stopping, annoyed that he hadn’t even broken a sweat on the way up. They hadn’t otherwise spoken on their journey; she’d been simmering at both him and herself.

She was mad at him for being mad at her, and yes, she was well aware of how stupid that sounded. Did he not see she was trying to do the right thing by him? That she was trying to protect him? This stubbornness was a new trait from him. Well, she could be stubborn too!

“Where are we?” he asked from very close behind her. She turned to find herself eye to eye with him as he was standing on the step just below hers. He was nearly solid again. He’d been shifting into his corporeal body little by little as they had ascended the Stairway. She couldn’t meet his eyes; she could tell he was still angry with her as well.

“We’re almost there.” She pointed to the clouds above her. “The entrance to my Stairway is just here… What?”

Tynan was glaring at the clouds. He was armed but had changed out of his ceremonial armor. He wore a simple belted tunic and trousers with a pair of comfortable walking boots. He gripped the hilts of the daggers at his waist.

“I just wish I could go first,” he said. She frowned wanting to argue but she stood aside, he was the warrior after all. He shook his head. “That’s not how it works, the Pathfinder must lead the way.”

Livia suppressed a smile. This Pathfinder thing was turning out to be pretty cool!

“Well then…” She made to move the cloud aside but he stopped her grasping her hand. His touch felt barely there but his hand was warm again.

“Here, I want you to wear this,” he said, unclasping the Dark Star from around his neck.

“But it’s your birthday present.”

“Wear it for luck.”

“I’ll need more than luck, if something is waiting for us up there, Tynan.”

“Just…please?” He couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “It would mean a lot to me.”

Livia’s brow wrinkled, she pursed her lips but nodded. She wasn’t sure what good it would do, but she’d wear it because he’d asked her to.

The moment the pendant touched her skin she felt its warmth and a little zing. It flashed; happily it seemed, in the hollow of her throat. Tynan stroked a finger over the star; he looked up through his black lashes at her his expression guarded. Her gaze fell to his mouth, remembering how soft his lips were.

He stepped back clearing his throat. “Be careful,” he said.

“Right, yeah,” she said in a clipped tone.

She shoved the clouds aside, probably with more force than necessary. Pausing, she strained to hear any sounds from above, then carefully she peeked out from under the rug on the floor of the alcove.

“Dear Heavens!”

“What?” Tynan had drawn his blades and pushed up beside her.

“Oh,” he said sadly. “Liv, I’m sorry.”

The Libridomus was in ruins. The grand rotunda was shattered, its columns toppled. The precious contents of the library had been set alight, small fires still smoldered amongst the rubble.

Livia carefully climbed out and into her little alcove, Tynan immediately after. In a daze she looked around, utterly heartbroken.

“What kind of people would do this?” she wondered aloud.

“Monsters, not people.” Tynan said. She saw he was angry, Livia remembered his love for the library in the Faerie realm. His anger stoked her own and hardened her resolve.

“This way.” She set off in the direction of the staircase, but Tynan held her back. His presence was corporeal again, his hand on her arm strong.

“I’ll take point.” He stepped in front of her and carefully led them through the shattered remains of the library. The path was blocked by debris and they picked the way over and around it as quietly as they could.

Finally they came to the staircase that led to the ground floor. They stood at the top and looked down into a gaping hole. It must have been ground zero for a huge explosion.

“Is there another way down?” he asked.

She shook her head. “There were three stair cases from this level to the first floor but nothing’s left.” Looking around she pointed to the blown out glass doors across from them. “Let’s see if the terrace is still intact,” she said, taking a step back.

Suddenly someone grabbed her, she issued a startled yell and twisted away. Tynan jumped in front of her and drew his daggers.

“Oh sorry, so sorry, my friends!” said the cowering figure. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

The person was wearing a stained and torn yellow robe their pale arms held up defensively. Tynan made an aggressive step forward but Livia held him back.

“Raziel?”

The Archivist looked up. “Mistress Livia! Heavens be praised! Come closer, child. Help me,” he said.

He smiled though her friend’s face moved strangely only pulling to one side. His wings had been hacked off, what was left of them they lay in tatters against his back. Stepping around Tynan she made to help the librarian but Tynan brandished his blades.

“Liv, stay back,” he said.

“What? No, Tynan, this is Raziel. He’s the Archivist,” she said to him.

“Not anymore!”

Tynan morphed into the Wraith, his spectral alter ego baring the gleaming silver shards of his jagged teeth. Raziel cried out and backpedaled away from them. Livia was aghast.

“Tynan! You’re scaring him!” she yelled.

But Tynan was not listening; he followed Raziel as he tried to flee. The Wraith threw one of his daggers pinning Raziel to the wall through the flesh of his shoulder.

“Foul creature! Come forth and face your death!”

“Tynan! Stop it!”

“Can you not feel it?” the Wraith asked her. “His true life-force is gone!”

“His what? I…”

“Look at his eyes!”

Livia turned her attention to Raziel and gasped. His eyes were rimmed with a sickly purple grey color just like her father had described, but there was something else too. A feeling of wrongness, a crawling tingling feeling made her shudder in revulsion. Raziel was gone she could feel it.

“What did you do to him!” she asked the creature before her. “You let him go!” The air grew frozen, her breath steamed from her mouth. “Let him go NOW!” she commanded.

Raziel screamed, his mouth splitting wide. There was something coming out, Livia recognized it immediately. Shiny black with iridescent wings and a sharp beak, it was a Phaji! Horrified she stepped back as Raziel’s body fell and began to liquefy.

The Phaji made to fly away but the Wraith blocked its path sending his other dagger flying after it. It arced around and flew in circles still screeching in pain. It was dying; she felt the fear like she had at the Queen’s tribunal.

Good! For what it had done to Raziel, Livia hoped it was in agony! She wished all of the Phaji’s most horrible fears were coming true in its final moments! She let her mind fill with every awful thing she could think of.

The fear took over its mind until it fell at her feet bleating and scurrying around on the floor. An icy rime moved toward it. In moments it was over. Covered in ice crystals, it turned onto it’s back convulsing and then was still.

She was standing over the Phaji breathing hard and shivering. Tynan pulled her into his embrace and rubbed some warmth back into her arms. No longer the Wraith, he was whispering soothing words in her ear as she came back to her senses.

She stared at the dead Phaji. “Your power, is that how you do it? Scare it to death? Is that what you did?”

“What I…?” Tynan began but then stopped. “Uh, yes. That’s the power a Shadow wields when necessary.”

She slumped in his arms, feeling drained. “Thank you,” she told him. “Raziel was my friend ever since I can remember. His spirit can rest now that you’ve avenged him.”

Raziel’s remains began to glow and Tynan was about to go back on the offensive but Livia waylaid him with a gentle hand against his chest.

“It’s alright. He’s traveling Beyond. He’s free now to join those who have gone before.”

Raziel’s glow shimmered and lifted from the floor before it flashed brilliantly and then faded away.

“Good journey, friend.” Livia said softly.

Tynan collected his daggers and re-sheathed them at his waist. “We should keep moving. Someone might have heard all that screeching and come to investigate.”

She nodded her agreement and they made their way around the blast crater. Livia was once more thankful for her shoes as they crunched across the broken glass of the blown out doors.

The terrace at the front of the Libridomus and the stairs that flowed to the street were mostly intact. Livia paused to look at the sky, the Milky Way blazed above her, a meteorite sped briefly across the sky and she remembered the wish she had made the night she and Tynan had met.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She smiled sadly. “I doubt it.”

Tomorrow a final excerpt from the last book in the series

Click below to buy The Fallen Shadow:

Anniversary Special Excerpt: The Dark Star

Kathleen Rear

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June 21, 2022

I do love my protagonists that was a given when I wrote this series, but what surprised me was I loved my antagonists just as much. It’s very cathartic to write them, they get to say and do all the BAD things! Although they get their comeuppance (sort of)I enjoyed Orias and Lassal very much while they were around to stir the pot.

The Dark Star: Book Two of the Revel Night Saga

Chapter Forty

“Never!”

He threw the heavy cut crystal glass, shattering the mirror over the bureau and then kicked over the coffee table sending the decanter of Hellsbane smashing to the floor. “Bitch!” he screamed.

His wide-eyed servant poked his head up over the couch. The idiot had taken the exact wrong moment to announce that Orias’ expected visitor had arrived. The moment being just as he had finished reading the missive sent to him by his mother.

“How could she?” He found something else to throw and a satisfying crashing occurred, of what he didn’t care his rage was all consuming at that instant. “How dare she!”

“Your Majesty the Lord Lassal!” the servant called over his shoulder, scurrying out of the room.

“Never!” he screamed again kicking the footstool across the room.

“Hells Bells, man!” Lassal’s head swiveled as he took in Orias’ trashed apartment. “This a bad time?”

Orias swore and collapsed onto the sofa, he’d worked up an actual sweat. Lassal walked into the room; stopping by the upended table he nudged the smashed decanter with the tip of his loafer. “No way to treat a two-thousand year old Hellsbane, whatever the matter.”

Orias snorted and grinned, scrubbing his hands over his face. Good old Lassal. His friend and minion could make light in any situation. He finger combed his hair back between his horns and smoothed the sides, then straightened his shirt and righted the French cuffs, noticing he’d lost a cufflink.

“There’s more in the bar,” he told Lassal.

As Lassal helped himself to the liquor Orias re-read the missive. Pursing his lips he shook his head. “Never in a million years, mother,” he murmured. A very large pour of amber liquor was shoved in front of his face. He accepted the glass and drank deeply.

“Looks like you need it worse than me,” Lassal said. He tipped an armchair back to stand and took a seat across from him.

“Is that the reason for the shades?” Orias asked him.

“What?”

“Hangover?” Orias said tapping his temple.

“Ah, oh…yes,” Lassal adjusted the glasses to sit more firmly on his face. “A real brain crusher.”

“Here’s to the hair of the dog,” Orias raised his glass.

“Woof!” Lassal took a big swallow of his Hellsbane and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Explains the smell too.”

“Beg pardon?”

“You smell like a rotting gym sock stuffed with cheese.” Orias said. “How many beds did you visit last night?”

Lassal shrugged. “My Master bade me to attend him and I flew immediately to his side.”

“Well, next time take a shower.”

“Yes my prince,” he said bowing his head. “Am I correct in assuming the reason for the redecoration is that letter you hold?”

Orias got up and handed it to him. “Read for yourself.”

He continued past Lassal and on to the bar draining his glass as he walked. Pouring himself more, he leaned against the bar as Lassal read. He marked the moment when Lassal came to the important part—the part that had set him off—he gasped his mouth falling open.

“Impossible!” Lassal said.

“Apparently not,” he said dryly.

“But, there are laws in place dictating the right of succession!”

“Of which she has rewritten with the blessing of the Counsel of Representatives,” Orias explained. “It’s all a very happy coincidence that the majority of counsel members are either her minions or sires to her children.”

Lassal swore. “But that half-breed kid over you as her heir? Is she insane? Surely the people of the Demonic realm will be up in arms!”

“Will they?” Orias sneered. “Baby brother put on quite a show at the sacrifice ceremony. It was his blow that killed Alocer. He’s being touted as a savior, he and his little girlfriend,” he growled and threw his glass at the media screen, which shattered.

Lassal straightened from ducking to avoid getting creamed by Orias’ glass. “So you’re out, Daniel’s in—for now,” Lassal rushed to add. “What’s the plan?”

Orias smiled. Good old Lassal, always the pragmatic one. He walked back over to the couch, plucking the letter out of Lassal’s hand. “Well I’d rather gut myself than become that little pukes minion, as the Queen implores me to do.”

“So not much has changed then, you’ll still have the fight for the crown.”

Orias nodded. “I’m still prepared to do so. More resolved, in fact.”

“Which begs my question again, my Lord. What is the plan?”

“I need reinforcements naturally, it’s the only way I can tip the balance in my favor.”

“Sure. Who do you have in mind?”

“An old friend.” Orias smiled. “Someone who wields extraordinary power and has bodies to spare. Someone who, most importantly, is in my debt.”

“Anyone I know?”

“I wouldn’t think so, his name is Patrik Belizaire.”

“You’re right, I’ve never heard of him.”

“Nor would you have, he’s a Mortal.”

“And you say he owes you? Sounds like an entertaining story.”

“One for another time though, Lassal.”

Orias stood and went into his office; he punched the combination into his safe and retrieved a small box wrapped in muslin. Written upon the muslin were magical spells in cuneiform, one of the most ancient of all the Mortal languages.

“And this brings me to the reason why I’ve summoned you in the first place. You need to send a message to him for me.”

“What of the embargo?”

He handed the wrapped box to Lassal who flinched as something inside it hissed when came into contact with his hands. Orias chuckled. “No media blackout can stop this form of communication, my friend.”

Lassal stared at the box. “What would you have me do?”

“You take the box and set it ablaze.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“You’ll tell Belizaire that it’s time to repay his debt. The embargo will be lifted the day of the Queen’s coronation so that those living outside the Demonic realm can make the pilgrimage home to celebrate. Tell him I’ll meet him then.” Orias stood and his minion knew he was dismissed. Lassal got up and went to the door. “And Lassal?”

“Yes, Master?”

“For Satan’s sake take a shower! Preferably in bleach.”

Lassal smiled, or maybe it was a smirk, only one side of his face moved. He bowed deeply. “At once, my King.”

“I like the sound of that,” Orias smiled wide. “I like the sound of that very much.”

Another excerpt tomorrow! Stay tuned!

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Revel Night Saga Special Excerpt: The Brightest Star

Kathleen Rear

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June 20, 2022

Hello there! It’s almost Revel Night! In celebration of the fourth anniversary of the release of TBS I thought an excerpt would be appropriate!

Here is the when Stella met Missy Caldwell moment in which Stella learns that life sometimes hands you people who will make your life more interesting.

The Brightest Star: Book One of the Revel Night Saga

Chapter Four

There was one little drawback from having a best friend that no one else could see, a tiny inconvenience that Stella had to live with. Everyone thought she was bonkers.

She had hoped that by this, her junior year of high school things would be different than the lower grades, but mostly the insults just became more creative. “Seven-Thirty” was the newest one. It was a reference to the code used by the police to describe mental patients. It went like this: “Hey Stella? What time is it? It’s seven-thirty!” She wondered how they knew that in the first place.

A blob of wet paper landed on her arm, she didn’t need to look to know who threw it. Gross! She wiped the offending spitball off her sleeve with the paper napkin from her lunch tray. Ben Abrams and Richard Cutter high fived each other while Mary Raubenau, and the rest of her rich girl groupies tittered near-by.

“Hey Stella?” Richard called. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a better joke, Dickie Cutter,” Stella called back. He hated to be called Dickie, and in combination with his surname it sounded really nasty. She scooped up her leftover lunch and went to throw it away. On her way past, Mary gave her a nasty sneer. Ever her nemesis, Mary’s personality had sadly not improved since their fight on the library steps.

She stomped off to the bathroom to wash her sleeve. It wasn’t always like that though most kids just ignored her. With one exception, and that exception was grimacing into the mirror when Stella walked into the bathroom.

“Ugh! Stell, can you see this hickey?” Missy Caldwell held up her hair light brown hair and pointed to her neck. It looked like she had tried to cover it up with make-up.

Stella peered at it and made a face. “It looks like you’ve been strangled.”

“Oh great!” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror. She took a compact out of her purse and caked more make-up on her neck.

In the beginning theirs had been a relationship based on a mutual need to sneak out and do things their mothers’ would never approve of.

Stella had been sitting on the stairs in front of the library engrossed with the newest Night Frights novel. It was a series of books that followed the adventures of two brothers who hunted demons. She had been reading them to Nox since the series began; he thought they were great. Stella was almost to the climactic end of a chapter when her book was snatched out of her hand.

“Why have you been lying about me?” It was Missy, and she looked pissed.

“I haven’t. Give me that back!” Stella said.

Missy held the book behind her back “Not till you tell me why you told your mom that you were over at my house Saturday night.”

Stella froze. “Uh…what?”

“My mom said that your mom thanked her for letting you stay the night on Saturday,” she said.

Stella’s clever plan had a single but fatal flaw, the assumption that Missy’s mother and her own were the least likely people to cross paths. She would be grounded until she was eighty.

“Apparently you come over all the time and keep me company when my mom is at work,” she raised her eyebrows and waited for Stella’s explanation.

“Uh…well,” Stella began sheepishly, “I just…well I told her that so she wouldn’t uh… know…um.”

Know what? That her best friend a boy who visited her from the Faery realm; that they hung out in condemned houses and lonely alleyways scaring the tar out of unwary victims? Yeah, She would avoid that conversion at all costs, thank you very much!

“Oh jeez, straitlaced Stella is sneaking out!” Missy laughed. “What’s his name?” It must have been written all over Stella’s face, because Missy laughed even harder. “No, better not tell me,” she said.

“What did you say to your mom?” Stella asked, steeling herself for the answer.

“I covered for you.”

“You…why?” Stella gaped at her.

Missy sat beside Stella on the step and leaned back on her elbows. “I figure it’s like this Stell, I covered for you, so now you owe me one.”

“What do you want me to do?” Stella asked warily.

“You cover for me, naturally,” she smiled. “Tit for tat.”

“Okay,” Stella said slowly.

“Great!” She handed over the book. “You keep telling your mom you’re at my house, and I’ll keep telling my mom you’re over teaching me knitting or whatever and we’ll both have a cover story for our illicit rendezvous,” she said, wriggling her brows suggestively.

Stella was dumbfounded. “Really? You won’t tell?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell,” she said. “It’ll be sort of a mutually beneficial blackmail arrangement. If I get caught then you do too.”

Missy was in the same grade as Stella but a year older because her mom had held her back a year before kindergarten. The practice was called “redshirting.” Missy was always the oldest in every grade all through school, she was the first to get her boobs and her period and attracted the attention of the older boys. She had unfairly gotten the reputation for being a wild girl but had embraced the title with gusto, dating a boy who was older and going to college parties in Springfield and Bend.

“Agreed,” Stella said.

“Shake on it.” Missy held out her hand.

They shook and then she got up and dusted off the seat of her shorts.

“Just tell me one thing,” Missy asked as she walked away, “is he hot?”

Stella smiled, a huge grin. “Very, very hot!”

Stay tuned for more excerpts from the series all this week! Click below to buy your copy!