Welcome to Beaumont Academy! We’re here to mold your supernatural abilities into the best they can be. Remember to submit your abilities test results, or we will deny your application.
After Maxima Lane turns into a bat, her acceptance into Beaumont Academy was a given. It means freedom from her horrid stepmother and equally terrible stepsisters. However, her freedom isn’t long lived as her stepmother claims she doesn’t have the x-gene and if Max can’t turn into a bat before the Magic Sector comes, she might get expelled from school.
Gabriel Hendrix’s life is simple. Capture the villains and don’t fall for a witch. Until he meets Maxima Lane. She has an X-gene that allows her to turn into a bat. Meaning she can follow the falcon, and he can put a stop to the Shadowed—if only it was that simple. The girl comes with a lot of secrets, and it drives Gabriel insane. Why is her stepmother obsessed with her? Why is there yellow in her eyes when it’s supposed to be red and why can’t she activate her bat?
When people die and Max gets kidnapped from the academy, time is running against Gabe. He needs to find answers and Max before it’s too late.
My gaze searched the treetops where it came from, and the falcon was jumping from branch to branch. Something hung from her claw.
She stared straight at me as if she were begging for help.
I lifted my arm, and she dove from the branch. Her talons pierced into my skin as she landed on my arm. The blood seeped through the jacket that Maria had lent me.
My gaze flickered from the blood on the jacket toward the blinking red button on a metal sphere hanging from the leather laces.
My fingers worked fast, untangling the leather strings around her leg.
The magic pricked and burned the tips of my fingers, but I pushed through that too. The only thing that drove me through the pain was that someone had forcefully used magic to put this tracker on her. Someone nasty and that they wanted to hurt her beyond my understanding.
It wasn’t the first time that the falcon had crossed paths with me. We were old friends. Met on previous occasions, usually in this forest. Sometimes I gave her berries or took her to Maria if she had a broken wing or something that needed attention. She would stay until she was ready to go on her way.
“Again? How do you always get into trouble?”
She kacked softly. As if she was telling me ‘I don’t know.’ I finally got the string off. The magic died as I shoved the tracker inside my pocket. I inspected her wing, pulled it softly open. She let me. There didn’t seem to be any other wounds.
She kacked her thank you.
“Don’t!” a man’s voice yelled, and the falcon pushed herself off my arm and darted through the trees. My arm throbbed where her claws had pierced into my skin.
Arrows whooshed after her, and my teeth ground on each other as the guy was relentless, trying to kill something as beautiful as that bird. She didn’t do anyone harm.
I didn’t think; I just charged.
My body connected hard with his, and we both tumbled to the ground. Grunts left him and complaints left me as we rolled a couple of times.
Rocks and pinecones pressed into my back, and something sharp on this guy nipped at my hip-bone. The scent of sandalwood mixed with a sweet manly fragrance spread through my nostrils and clouded my mind.
My head bumped against something hard bringing me back to reality.
His weight worked in his favor. My boney ass might have knocked him to the ground, but it wouldn’t get the upper hand in this struggle.
My back connected hard with the ground as he pinned me there. He forced my hands above my head, grasping both my palms with one of his giant ones. An arrow pointed into my cheek.
Adrienne Woods is a USA Today Bestselling author, living in South Africa.
She’s been in love with books all her life and knew at the age of 13 that she is going to be a writer one day.
That dream happened ten years ago and she started to pen her stories down on paper. Firebolt, her debut novel, were released 4 years after that, and she hasn’t stop since.
Now she almost have 15 novels under her belt, and it doesn’t look like she is going to stop soon.
Title: A Home for Christmas Author: Katie Eagan Schenck Genre: Contemporary Christmas Romance
Brad has just one wish this Christmas: to find a real home. Having lost his parents before joining the Marines, he misses that sense of belonging and family. When he meets an introverted flight attendant on his journey to start his civilian life, he wonders if this might be his chance.
After a messy divorce, Shelly has decided the only person allowed within the brittle walls of her broken heart is her daughter, Lilly. At least, until she meets a friendly man who hails from her hometown while working a routine flight. When she learns he needs a place to stay, she offers the apartment over her garage out of the kindness of her heart – and her desperate need for extra cash.
Even as Brad endears himself to Shelly by saving the town’s Christmas pageant, she attempts to keep her distance to protect the fragile stability she’s built since her divorce. But Brad’s willingness to walk the fine line between what Shelly’s heart wants and what her head allows slowly wears down her resolve. And when Brad receives a job offer near the only family he has left, Shelly must decide whether she’s willing to risk her heart again before he leaves her home, and her life, for good.
“Shopping at the store, helping to unload the car, breakfast and the dishes this morning, offering to help with the pageant.” Shelly ticked off the considerate things he had done for her in his short time at her home. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “And not pressing charges for colliding with you!”
“Well, the statute of limitations hasn’t run out on that last one yet. But in all seriousness, I’m happy to help. I like to be useful. Lilly gave me the sheet music for the pageant, and I plan to spend some time today going over it.” He followed her into the house and set the bags down in the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you, though.”
“Awkward?” Shelly asked, puzzled. “How would you have made things awkward?”
“At the store, with Donna?”
Heat rose in her face, and Shelly pivoted toward the counter to hide it. “Oh. That.” Her fingers fumbled with the bags as she sorted through them. “I used to be more of a regular at the store when I was married, and I guess I got to know Donna pretty well. Her husband is also the mayor, so we see each other a lot at town events. She noticed when my visits became more sporadic and my groceries lighter, even though I never actually said anything. It didn’t take long for word to spread about the divorce.” She focused on unpacking the groceries and putting them away. “But you did nothing wrong. I honestly hadn’t even considered how it might look to bring you until she started talking.”
“I take it you haven’t brought many other men grocery shopping with you?”
Her hand froze midway to a shelf. Was this his way of asking if she was dating anyone? Wary, she glanced at him. “I, uh, I don’t normally have company when I go shopping, except Lilly.”
“Then I’m honored.” His blue eyes were sincere.
She resumed her work of restocking her kitchen, though her heartbeat irregularly in her chest. It was such a strange question to be asked, and yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling there was a deeper meaning behind it and his response. Her head was spinning as she put the rest of the groceries away.
“I think I’ll head back to my room and try to make heads or tails of the pageant music. Come and get me when Lilly gets home, and I’ll be happy to play lumberjack.” With a charming smile, Brad took his share of the groceries and headed back to his room, leaving Shelly to overthink their entire conversation.
Debut author, Katie Eagan Schenck, writes sweet romance that warms the heart and gives all the feels. When she’s not writing fiction, she’s either working on regulations for the federal government or binging Hallmark movies. She lives in Maryland with her husband, daughter, and their three cats.
“When a Chaos mage fights, only blood and scorched earth remain.”
Mage War Chronicles
Some victories are more costly than others, and Ina was the one that paid the price.
Determined to rescue her dragon, the newly appointed royal witch embarks on a gruelling journey through the wintery Grey Mountains. The weather is not her only obstacle, as the enemy forces gathered in the kobold mines have only one goal.
To capture the Chaos mage and deliver her to the heart of the mountain.
With the help of Sa’Ren, Ina arrives at Castle Liath almost unscathed, but her joy is short-lived, as its granite walls hide a shocking revelation.
With blossoming love shattered by a possessive dragon’s claim and an impossible mission to fulfil, will the mysterious Blessing of the Mountain help or hinder her efforts to protect Cornovii?
Immerse yourself in the second book of Season’s War, where passion mix with cruelty and the world-changing power is buried deep in the ancient tomb guarded by the stern Mountain God.
They charged again, but Ina was prepared, and she released her vipers, one wrapping around her sword, another coiling around her, acting as a shield. Mar and Ren exchanged grins and attacked. The clash of steel from Ina’s sword parrying Mar’s attack was a sharp counterpoint to the hiss of magic as Ren’s strike was repelled by the viper protecting her body. Her protagonists instinctively controlled their assault, allowing Ina to learn how to fight, but she was soon sweating and panting from wielding both magic and sword in combat. Too proud to stop, Ina fought on, despite waves of dizziness and nausea, barely hearing the cheers from their audience. Just on the brink of fainting, a sudden commotion interrupted the sparring.
‘My chickens! A beast is eating my chickens!’
A serf from the household ran onto the training field and pleaded with Alleron.
‘My lord, help us. A beast is eating the chickens.’
Ina was trying to catch her breath, and the servant’s words made little sense, but she followed everyone as they followed the lord of Liath and the distraught woman.
As they arrived at the kitchen garden, Ina skidded to a halt, eyes wide in shock at the sight of her horse, perched on the poultry house like an animated gargoyle, watching the panicked chickens run around, occasionally snatching one when it came too close, consuming it messily and with great enthusiasm. Before she could collect her thoughts, two soldiers approached the horse and tried to grab its reins, but with a disdainful shake of her head, Zjawa twisted around and leapt over their heads, trotting happily over to Ina to beg for a cuddle.
Ina looked at her ‘horse’, who dropped a half-eaten chicken at her feet, shook her mane, and whinnied happily. The witch sighed deeply and looked down. As her gaze rested on Zjawa’s feet, Ina frowned, perplexed, watching her mount pawing at the ground. Her horse had five toes where a hoof should be, each ending with a sharp talon that easily tore through the grass underneath. Ina looked at the other feet, studying the bunched fingers, their claws almost like a normal hoof.
‘What the hell are you?’ the witch asked, looking at the horse, her question met with an amused animal stare.
‘She is an orein.’ Ina heard Alleron’s mournful voice behind her and turned around to look at him. The witch noticed Ayni heading in their direction with an unreadable facial expression.
The dragon nodded respectfully to the horse, taking a long look at the mare before turning to Ina.
‘Care to tell us how a mere human earned the blessing of the mountains?’ Ina’s head snapped up at those words, and a chill ran down her spine when her gaze met the assessing stare of the dragoness.
Olena Nikitin is our pen name. We are an enthusiastic couple of writers who are fascinated by the fantasy/paranormal romance genre and decided to write a book we would love to read
Behind the Pen name:
Olga – is Polish, armed with a wicked sense of humour and typical Slavic pessimism she is the wicked witch from the East. She has written stories since childhood, initially mostly about her work. As an emergency physician, she always has a story to tell and often not much time to write.
Mark is a typical English gentleman whose charm, refined taste and an impressive collection of books were tempting enough to make Olga leave her homeland. Don’t tease him too much; this man has an impressive sword collection and he knows how to use it. He also can fix everything, including Polish syntax in English writing.
