Title: Faerie Chronicles
Boxed Set
C. L. Kraemer
ISBN: 978-1-62420-309-1
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 2
BLURBS:
Meadows of
Gold
Eugene, Oregon in the 20th
century, amid a property feud between the local faeries and night elves. The
conniving faeries from Olde Ireland try to stir up more mischief. However, a
warrior gnome convinces the magic folk to control their own destiny.
The
Lending Library
Faeries try to fit into the human world
when the forest where they make their home is destroyed by a mysterious enemy.
Defying
the Odds
The night elves on the hill aren't happy without their
magic. They concoct a plan to punish those who were involved in the act that
rendered them almost human. Meanwhile, Uther, the rogue night elf, has returned
to woo the Librarian to be his eternal mate.
EXCERPT
A gentle breeze sighed,
undulating the meadow grass lazily and whispering past the forlorn figure
slumped on the tree trunk, hands clasped tightly in his lap. Thomas, a forest
leprechaun, released a long melancholy breath between his cracked, dry lips. A
single plump tear meandered down his stubbled cheek.
The sun sent bright
shafts of light through the pine boughs and around the wooden pedestal upon
which the morose figure resided. Ignoring the dancing beams, the leprechaun
pulled a shuddered breath into his lungs and stared at a spot in front of the
stump where a crumpled daisy chain necklace lay withering in the warmth of the
afternoon. Another plump tear snaked down his unshaven face.
In the distance, a lone
figure scuffed up the lane, which crossed in front of the tree stump. Thomas
paid no heed to the approaching form, pulling a thin silver flask from inside
his rumpled vest. He blindly opened the lid, placed the opened top to his lips
and pulled a deep draught from the container. Refitting the cap to the top, he
slipped the silver spirit holder back into his vest. His next shuddered breath
was interrupted with a hiccup.
The figure on the road
drew closer. Thomas raised his head and squinted his eyes. Was she coming back?
He hiccupped and straightened up. Maybe she had been teasing him when she ran
away and now she realized how much he cared for her. His eyes brightened and a
smile began to touch his lips.
The figure came around
the bend and toward him. The last he'd seen her, she was wearing a diaphanous,
thin dress. Had she changed? The form nearing him was clad in leather breeches,
a braided leather tunic, and knee-high, soft leather boots. A sword blade
strapped to the figure's back flashed in the sunlight. Was Cary so angry she
meant to cut him in little pieces? His heart began to pound in his chest and
inside his mouth his tongue stuck to the roof.
The figure stopped two
lengths from him and raised a hand to shade its eyes from the brightness of the
day.
Thomas realized he was
shaking. This was it…his life was over. He hung his head.
"Thomas?"
The voice was familiar
but it didn't sound like Cary. If it wasn't her…
The
Lending Library
Faeries try to fit into the human world
when the forest where they make their home is destroyed by a mysterious enemy.
EXCERPT
Chapter One
Ailidh wobbled precariously
on her high heels.
Kayne smirked. "Having
problems, dear?"
"Shut up!" she
snapped. "I need to practice this until I get it right. We don’t really
have many options left open to us, Kayne. You had better practice, too."
He stopped and steadied
himself on the railing of the porch. He wriggled his feet out of the closed
leather shoes that encased them.
"I don’t know why you
insist we wear these ridiculous articles of clothing. This long-sleeved shirt
cuts off the circulation to my hands not to mention the lack of space for my
wings and these long pants chap my legs.
"Worst of all, are
these horrendous leather shoes. They pinch and make my feet swell. Why do we
have to go through all of this? I don’t understand." Kayne grumbled.
Ailidh sighed and slowly, patiently explained to him, once again,
why they were practicing.
"Remember last
Wednesday when Keegan and Connal lost their dwelling? The sound of their tree
crashing to the ground was deafening. The Others are moving out more and more.
We will lose our home if we don’t act first. Now, put your shoes back on and
walk for just five more minutes."
Kayne wrestled his shirt off
and threw it to the porch’s deck. He pulled the long pants off his body and
left them in a heap next to the shirt. Bending forward, he touched his toes
gingerly as he gradually unfurled his lacey wings. Slowly, he pulled himself to
an upright position. Shoulders back, wings completely expanded, he lifted his
18-inch form to its full height and looked at Ailidh defiantly.
"I don’t need to fit
into the Others’ world. They need to adjust themselves to my world and leave us
alone."
Ailidh, teetering, grabbed
the lower railing of the porch and shook her head.
"Kayne, most of the
Others don’t even know we exist. How can they adjust to something they don’t
even believe?"
"They adjust to
animals, don’t they?"
"The animals chose to
be seen. We did not. Remember? Our great, great grandfathers took a vote and
decided we would endanger ourselves more if we continued to be visible to the
Others. At that time, they didn’t have all the machinery they have now. They
moved into our lands at a slower pace. Now, put on the clothes and try to
adjust."
"No." Kayne kicked
at the clothing on the porch. "I’m going to get a magazine and a cup of
coffee. You can stand here and practice day and night for all I care."
He turned on his heels and
lifted himself off the ground with his delicate appendages. He lazily winged
his way into the open window of the building marked Lending Library.
Hovering until he landed on
the balls of his feet, he folded the wings tight to his torso and walked to the
corner of the building signed Coffee Shop. He sat in a small chair snugged
close to the matching table. Sliding the Newsweek someone had tossed on the
table toward him, he flipped through the pages. Minimized for easier handling, the
magazine was still large enough to require both of his hands to turn the pages.
A diminutive nymph in a waitress uniform with a "Chrissy" nametag
took his order for a latte. Ten minutes later, she returned with the steaming
liquid in a cup.
"Thanks, Chrissy."
Kayne picked up the cup carefully and took a sip.
"No problem,
Kayne," she had a surprisingly deep voice for a nymph. "Where’s
Ailidh?"
Kayne jerked a thumb over
his shoulder toward the front porch.
"Practicing," he
grunted.
"Oh," Chrissy mopped
the table next to Kayne’s with a wet rag then flew daintily to the kitchen with
the dirty cups and saucers she’d picked up. One of the resident dryads of the
valley, Chrissy was living in the tree behind the Lending Library. Her home
across the meadow had been one of the first destroyed.
Ailidh is right. Kayne frowned at the silent admission. The Others were invading his
world with frightening, swift, uncaring swaths into the forestlands. Soon there
wouldn’t be an Ancient tree left. While, at a glance, their movements seemed
random, even careless, Kayne had noted a pattern, albeit haphazard, to their
actions. Months earlier he’d watched from a safe distance as the huge
screeching yellow machines ripped up his ancient wood friends and squashed
their bodies beneath armored tracks. He could never be sure whether the
squealing had been the old trees or the vicious yellow machines. After the
first occasion of watching as they destroyed a sea of Ancients, Kayne had left
on shaky wings and flown home. Ailidh was furious at him, thinking he’d been
with his friends drinking honeysuckle wine. He couldn’t stop throwing up long
enough to tell her what he’d seen.
Defying
the Odds
The night elves on the hill aren't happy without their
magic. They concoct a plan to punish those who were involved in the act that
rendered them almost human. Meanwhile, Uther, the rogue night elf, has returned
to woo the Librarian to be his eternal mate.
EXCERPT
In a meadow east of Eugene, Oregon
Bram ambled up the roughly hewn stairs to
the willow lounge chair located at the front of his home. He pulled the
scrimshawed pipe from his pocket and filled the bowl with his favorite blend of
black cherry tobacco. The paced routine of loading the ivory bowl with fragrant
leaves and tamping them firmly into place was one of his favorite after dinner
rituals. Withdrawing a matchstick from the inner pocket of his vest, he struck
the sulfured end against a river rock he'd placed on the root of the towering
oak that served as his home.
The fading evening sky showered the
mountains in hues of gold and red. Pushing away the light, a blanket of dark
blue velvet sprinkled with luminous star points soon prevailed. Bram puffed
smoke rings at the darkening heavens.
"Evenin'." A scruffy black and
tan terrier mix meandered up and, after circling three times, lay next to the
chubby gnome.
"Evening, Silas. How's the
family?"
"Well, thank you. Daisy announced
we're expecting--again."
Bram chuckled into his beard.
"Congratulations."
"Humph. I'll be glad when we're both
too old to care. I came over to ask if there are any jobs in sight. I'll need
to be working as much as I can now."
It seemed he got one batch of kids out of
the house and another was on the way.
Silence stretched between the business partners.
Bram pulled deep draughts on his pipe, blowing the smoke away from his friend.
His eyes were drawn to the large block of light spilling from the picture
window of the behemoth on the hill. The Saun clan, night elves whose callous
actions nearly destroyed the fae population of the meadow and surrounding
forests, owned the out of place monstrosity.
Bram squinted his eyes to focus his vision
on the methodical movement that broke the beam of light. He could just make out
a figure pacing rhythmically in front of the casement. Unable to ascertain
which of the night elves was engaged in the determined striding, Bram was sure
of only one thing…if the night elves were restless and unhappy, the rest of the
valley was in trouble.
~ * ~
Gitty paced in front of the picture
window, ignoring the expansive view of the green valley below. The thick carpet
covering the hand selected hardwood floors muffled the angry stompings of her
boots. At the end of each turn, she jabbed the air with her finger.
"Think you can take away my magic, do
you?" She spun on the ball of her foot and stamped to the other side of
the room. "We'll see about that!" Jab, jab.
Morgan, the younger of the two siblings,
stretched his limbs languidly across the fine leather couch, watching the angry
display being played out in the living room, a smirk residing on his lips.
"What has your knickers in a
twist?" His leg, hanging over the arm of the couch, swung slowly back and
forth.
Gitty broke her tirade for a moment.
"I'm surprised yours aren't. How can you tolerate not having magic to
use?"
"Because, dear sister, I don't need
magic to get my way. I have my," he waved a hand up and down his body,
"obvious attributes."
Gitty grimaced. "Please. Don't make
me sick."
Pulling to an upright position, Morgan
stretched his long legs in front of him, tucking his hands behind his head.
"You're just jealous."
"Hardly."
"Then what's your problem?"
"I don't fancy living my life in pubs
among the scum of the valley sponging off the pity of strangers. My plans
include owning all I see."
Morgan rose from the couch and faced his
sister.
"Good luck with that. Even the Others
are wise to your quest for power. I'm going out. See you later." He
moseyed out of the living room and down the hall.
Gitty gritted her teeth. Morgan might be
her brother, but he was useless when it came to thinking beyond his next good
time.
She glared at the source of the fingers of
light stretching over the meadow. The owner of the Lending Library was an Other
the local fae had embraced with open arms. Even Uther, the one-time leader of
the night elves and her uncle, had taken a personal interest in the older
female.
"Must be losing his sanity."
She spotted a pinpoint of red light
glowing in the far distance. As hard as she tried, she couldn't sense the
origin of the light.
"I hate not having my magic!"
She smacked the wall with her hand, immediately regretting the action. Bolts of
pain shot up her arm.
"Damn it!"
Turning on her heel, she tramped out of
the room.
