Series: Darkness #3
Published by Twisted Fairy Publishing on February 27th, 2014
Some days feel like years, but in Ember Brycin’s case just the opposite is true. She had only been in the Otherworld for a day or two when she returned back to the Earth's realm. But it is three years later on Earth. Em is now 22. It would matter if she was human, but she’s not. She is a Dae, part Demon and part Fay, with a little Dark Dweller thrown in to make her even more of a freak.
Seeing Seattle rebuilt only confirms she has been gone three years. For her it was not long ago that the Seattle area was just rubble of concrete and death. All done by her hand.
One thing that hasn’t changed, though, is her undeniable connection to Eli Dragen, who is sexy, gorgeous, and even more volatile and frustrating. But her problems go way past him. The Seelie Queen of the Otherworld still holds Mark, Em’s father, and her friends, Ryan, and Josh as hostages. Em needs to rescue them without, once again, getting caught and being used as a pawn to help the Queen regain possession of Earth. At the same time Ember is in hot water with Lars, the Unseelie King, after breaking her contract with him.
As some secrets have come to light others seem to become even more enigmatic. The only truth Ember knows is,everyone is harboring secrets. As Eli’s past is revealed, Em understands more clearly why he acts the way he does and how much their lives are intertwined. But she also knows Eli is holding something back, something that could change their relationship forever.
Em herself continues to wrestle with her feelings toward Torin and her own secret she’s withholding from Kennedy. As the tension for war mounts between the Seelie and Unseelie (Light and Dark), the tension at the Dark Dweller’s compound mounts even more as they prepare to obtain the sword no matter what the price. But is Ember the answer to the location of the sword? Is she the one to fulfill the prophecy? As usual nothing is ever what it seems.
Other books in the Darkness series:
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“A Morning in the journey of writing my book”
by Stacey Marie Brown
Streams of bright light wiggled their way through the gaps in my blinds, protruding directly into my eyes. I squeezed them shut with a groan. How did it get morning already? Pulling the covers over my head I denied it was sunlight I saw but a streetlamp igniting my shades. This is a stretch even for me since I have no streetlights outside my bedroom window.
Sighing, I sat up and recognized it really was a new day. Grrrrr . . . Why do mornings come so early? Well, I probably wouldn’t be this grumpy or sleepy if I had actually gotten to bed on time. But just like every night, the voices do not let me sleep. The moment I lay down they decide to come out and play, relentlessly creating scenes and issues in my head. Hearing voices or having people in your head, who feel so real you almost believe they are, is something you try to keep to yourself. Therapists would line up down the block for me to lie on their couch, drooling at the aspect of how much money they could make off me.
Dragging my zombie body down the hallway to the kitchen, my hand shakily reaches for the cupboard and pulls it open. Staring at the empty cabinet, a cold chill slithers up my spine. Oh God no . . . it can’t be true! Panic bubbles in my chest making it hard to breath. The truth staring so cruelly in my face makes the fear almost insurmountable. My body starts to tremble, my lids prickle with tears. There’s no denying it any longer. There is no coffee left!
Nooooo . . .
It had to be aliens or maybe those little Brownies that came in the middle of the night and took it from me. My coffee . . . my precious.
How am I supposed to work? There is a deadline and five more chapters to finish before I have to get it to my editor. No one can work in conditions like this.
Sprinting down the hall I start to throw on whatever is closest but then stop. Society doesn’t seem to find my pj bottoms acceptable attire in public. Damn public. So I grab for some “real” clothes. Pants, check, top, check, shoes . . . hmmmm. Isn’t that overdoing it a bit? But I remember that where I am going, I must have shoes. Double damn. Stuffing my feet into my chucks, I grab my computer and shove it into my bag. My heart is pounding, telling me I must go now.
Terror strikes me as I head out my front door. There are people around—everywhere. Some I doubt are even human. Weaving and bobbing in and around the labyrinth of obstacles set out before me, I try to not make eye contact. They will see it as an opening to speak to me. One little, blue-haired alien breaks my well-guarded wall and addresses me: “Good Morning.” I know she must be an extraterrestrial because I don’t understand the words she is speaking—some Martian language maybe. Still, I nod politely. Don’t want to piss off any aliens today. The last time I did it was a catastrophe.
Finally, I see my destination. The air in my lungs tighten with anticipation. Pushing through the doors, the smell of heaven fills my nose. It is the second time my eyes tear up this morning.
Coming to a dead stop, my pulse picks up again. There is a line. Oh God, no! Why me? How can life be so cruel? I must be patient . . . I must not throw a tantrum today. I’ve already had two verbal warnings from the owner. My foot taps impatiently. Once again the feeling of being watched prickles my skin. Eyes are everywhere, staring at me. But all I can hear are the drips of the coffee going into someone else’s cup. Time seems to stop. Finally, I reach the front and carefully remind the barista that if she mistakenly gives me a decaf again things will go very, very badly.
With a roll of her eyes she hands me my love, my precious. Greedily, I grab it from her, and like a junkie, I sniff at the steam rising off it. I take a seat, pulling out my computer. My manuscript welcomes me as I turn on the machine. Snuggling back into my seat, I take a sip of my dark lover.
Ohhhh, yeaaah . . . A smile comes to my face. Suddenly, the birds come out from hiding and start chirping. The creatures that surrounded me before become human. Now it is time to turn my attention to my “real” world—where the voices that speak to me can come into the light and where faes and goblins don’t have to wait to get a cup of coffee.
Stacey Marie Brown by day is an Interior/Set Designer, by night a writer of Paranormal Fantasy, Adventure, and Literary Fiction. She grew up in Northern California, where she ran around on her family’s farm, raising animals, riding horses, playing flashlight tag, and turning hay bales into cool forts. Even before she could write, she was creating stories and making up intricate fantasies. Writing came as easy as breathing. She later turned that passion into acting, living and traveling abroad, and designing. Though she had never stopped writing, moving back to San Francisco seemed to have brought it back to the forefront and this time it would not be ignored.
When she’s not writing she’s out hiking, spending time with friends, traveling, listening to music, or designing.