Gypsy Shadow Turns Ten

Ten Year Celebration

Gypsy Shadow Publishing celebrated TEN YEARS in publishing September 1, 2019! To commemorate our tenth birthday this month...all month long, buy ANY eBook at regular price from the GSP website (http://www.gypsyshadow.com), email me (cholley@gypsyshadow.com) with proof of your purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble or Smashwords and tell me which other eBook you want to receive for FREE (must be equal or lesser value than the one you buy), and I will send it to you in the format of your choice. Happy birthday, GSP!

The King's Affair by Teel James Glenn

NEW RELEASE JUNE 1, 2014!

The King's Affair by Teel James Glenn

gypsyshadow #steampunk #youngadult

http://www.amazon.com/Kings-Affair-Sci-Magickal-James-Glenn-ebook/dp/B00KPHRO2A

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kings-affair-teel-james-glenn/1119638637

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/443917

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Teel.html#KingsAffair

Is the alluring Baroness Lorenza working against the king? Who are the mysterious men who attacked Jeremy Cross? Will he find out in time to save the king and himself? Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Teel.html#KingsAffair

When Sci-Magickal student Jeremy Cross, saved the King of England from assassination he thought he’d had all the adventure he’d ever get. He was wrong! He is asked to be a ‘secret’ bodyguard to the King of the country of Andorra. His job is to determine if the alluring actress the Baroness Gia Lorenza is working against the king. Little did he know the assignment would lead to more danger than he had ever imagined. Mysterious assassins, intrigue, espionage and the dread prospect of appearing on stage are just the beginning of the thrills he faces as he tries to determine-is she one of the good guys or a true femme fatale?

Word Count: 26200

Pages to Print:  91

Price: $3.99

EXCERPT:

Prologue

The King’s Airfare

When the Baroness Gia Lorenza entered the main lounge of the luxury Luffe-Zeppelin III, every male eye turned toward her. She slid across the floor with an effortless sensuousness that sent the blood pressure of every man in the room to fly higher than the dirigible. I was among them.

The Baroness was tall and lithe with dark red hair and that shade of pale skin that the poets might once have called alabaster. Her thin frame sported womanly curves in all the correct places, a fact that her brilliant blue dress showed off to great effect. The dress had a low décolletage, where hung an opal cameo given to her, some say, by King Edward of England himself.

Above all that was arresting about her were her eyes, jade green and shining with humor, set above a thin nose and perfect, bow lips. She laughed as she entered the room alone, as if recalling some past jest.

One of the goat-legged Satyrite stewards, approached her with a note on a tray. He wore a white uniform jacket and an airman’s cap that was perched oddly between his two short, curling horns.

Only human and Satyrite servants staffed the airship, as even though the ship used Helium, it was felt the weight of steambots was prohibitive. It gave the trip an old fashioned charm, despite the ultra-modern feel of the huge aircraft.

The Baroness took the note from the servant, glanced at it and laughed again. A lilting sound that, though not loud, still rang clearly over the constant hum of two 24-horsepower engines moving the airship forward at a cruising speed of thirty miles an hour.

The Baroness turned the power of her smile and her glance across the room, where three extraordinary figures were seated near a large observation port.

One was broad-shouldered and square-jawed, clearly a member of the Prussian Junker class, with a dueling scar on his left cheek and a monocle. His blond hair was close-cropped and his expression was set in a perpetual sneer. His uniform announced his rank as a major.

The second figure was an officious older man with the stoop-shouldered posture of a scholar, with full and bushy sideburns of the type commonly called mutton chops. He had a thick head of silver hair and nervous hands that were constantly moving. His clothing was neat, but clearly that of a civil servant.

Both of the men were focused on the third who sat at their table, a wine glass in his hand. He was younger than both his companions and dressed in the latest fashionable waistcoat and jacket of expensive velvet. His dark, wild hair and a jawline beard framed a handsome, carefree face. His eyes were an unusual amber color, and his smile when he motioned to the Baroness was wide and easy.

The red-haired siren glided across the floor of the room to the table with the three, who rose as one.

“Baroness,” the dark-haired man said. His voice was well-modulated and had a hint of a Russian accent. “So good of you to accept my invitation.” He motioned to an empty seat.

“How could I refuse so gallant an invitation, Your Majesty?” she asked with an ironic tone and a deep curtsey.

“Please, my dear, I am not the King of Andorra here,” the dark-haired man said. “I am simply Boris.”

“Then I shall be simply Gia.” She accepted his hand and sat in the offered seat.

All this was played out for those in the lounge, and every man in the room felt a stab of jealousy of the king of the tiny country. Yet we were on the ship because of King Boris, the first of the Principality of the Valleys of Andorra. The former Russian nobleman had discovered the world’s only deposit of Andorrite beneath estates he had purchased in the tiny country before the close of the Great War. The meteor-delivered crystal was vital to the control steambots at a long distance, making him one of the richest men in the world.

When Andorra declared war on Germany during the Great War, Boris had seized the government of the small country and signed a secret agreement with the Kaiser just weeks before the German Empire won. Thus the Kaiser recognized King Boris the First, and a new dynasty began.

The tiny nation—lodged between Spain and France and barely one hundred and eighty square miles—by virtue of the Andoritte deposits and Boris’ investments—became a major force in the newly-reformed Europe.

The fact that Boris was only in his early thirties and still liked to live a life like King Edward of England—whom he knew well—had when he was the crown prince, made him a cause celeb in all of Europe.

He had just come back from a visit to Vienna to see the opening of the opera season and was homeward bound to Andorra la Vella, his capital city. On board was an entire theatre company bound for the St. Laurent Theatre in the capital. The Baroness Lorenza was the lead actress in that company and the reason I had joined it.

My job was to keep the King of Andorra from falling in love with her!

The Revenge of the Critches by John Paulits

NEW RELEASE APRIL 1, 2014!

The Revenge of the Critches by John Paulits

#gypsyshadow #childrens #fantasy

http://www.amazon.com/The-Revenge-Critches-Sequel-Mushroom-ebook/dp/B00JEMTP42

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-revenge-of-the-critches-john-paulits/1119058151

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425038

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/JohnPaulits.html#Revenge

The Critches are out for revenge and with Jess Hubbard to help them, they are sure to succeed unless Paul, Billy and Argo can come up with something fast. The Revenge of the Critches, sequel to The Golden Mushroom by John Paulits. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/JohnPaulits.html#Revenge

Things did not stay peaceful long in Shumbus after Paul and Billy’s summer adventure there. The Critches are out for revenge. The Golden Mushroom is in danger and so is the very city where the Shumians have lived forever. With Jess Hubbard planning to help the Critches, they are sure to succeed unless Paul, Billy, and Argo can come up with something fast!

Word Count: 19100

Pages to Print: 76 in PDF

Price: $3.99

EXCERPT:
Chapter One

“Did you fellows hear anything odd last night after you went to bed?” Grandfather Drummond said to his grandson Paul and Paul’s best friend, Billy Sparks.

“Like what, Grandfather?” Paul replied, not much interested.

“Like someone banging things around. I could swear I heard something in the middle of the night.”

“It wasn’t us,” Paul said. “We were asleep.”

“I know it wasn’t you. It seemed to come from across the street.”

Paul and Billy exchanged looks, now very interested.

“You mean your friend’s house?” Paul asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes, but it couldn’t have come from there, could it? Jess Hubbard has been gone all summer, and you say he’s not coming back.”

“That’s what he told us, Mr. Drummond,” Billy chimed in.

“I might have even heard it the night before too, but I was half asleep. I don’t know. If I hear anything tonight, I may just go across the street and have a look. I checked this morning before you two woke up, but nothing’s changed over there. Finish your breakfasts. I’m going out for groceries, and when I get back, we’ll go down to the beach.” Grandfather ruffled his grandson’s hair. “It won’t be long now until your mom comes to pick you up and ships you off to fifth grade.”

Paul and Bill ate quietly, and as soon as Grandfather disappeared, they carried their cereal bowls to the sink.

“We better go look,” Billy suggested.

“My grandfather said he already looked.”

“He doesn’t know what to look for. We do.”

“We do?”

“Of course we do. Let’s go. Don’t waste time. Get the flashlight.”

Paul Drummond and Billy Sparks were spending the summer with Paul’s grandfather at his seashore house in Seaview. An extraordinary adventure had kept the boys busy during the first week of their visit. When Grandfather Drummond’s neighbor and best friend Jess Hubbard disappeared, the boys traced him to an unimaginable place called Shumbus. They had traveled to Shumbus by accidentally tumbling down a mudslide hidden under Jess’s house. The boys had heard nothing of Shumbus; nothing from either Argo, the Shumian they had helped to rescue the Golden Mushroom from the horrible Critches, or from Mr. Hubbard since their return to Seaview.

The boys crossed the street to Jess’s house and went around to the back door. Billy put his hand through the empty window he had broken nearly two months earlier and opened the door.

Paul got a solid kitchen knife from a drawer and knelt in the corner next to the trapdoor which led to the mudslide to Shumbus. He tried to pry the door open, but couldn’t lift it.

“Help me,” he said to Billy.

“What for? You know even if we open it, it’s blocked off with another piece of floor.”

“I’m checking. Get another knife.”

Billy got another knife and tried to help, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“This lifted up last time,” said Paul. “Somebody locked it up good since then.”

“Let’s go out and look underneath,” Billy suggested.

“Wait, Billy, look. The kitchen floor’s way more scratched up than before.”

“What made those scrape marks, you think?” Billy asked softly.

“Something.”

Billy turned to his friend. “Oh, really? Something?”

“Definitely something.”

“Like what kind of something?”

“How do I know? But something.”

“Something. Great. We gotta look underneath. Maybe we’ll see something.”

A space barely large enough for a person to crawl through separated the kitchen floor from the damp ground beneath it.

One small window, also broken by Billy on their first visit, looked into this space.

“Shine the light,” said Billy as both boys knelt and peered into the dark.

Paul aimed the light at the far corner. The muddy hole they’d slid down before looked undisturbed, but the yucky, oozy mud under the house made it hard to tell whether anyone had been there lately or not.

“Look here,” said Paul. He pointed to dried mud stuck to the window frame. Paul touched the mud, and it dropped off in little flakes. “Is this still here from the beginning of summer?”

“I don’t know. That’s a long time ago. The trapdoor wasn’t locked before. Somebody had to be here to lock it. You think maybe somebody held on here to slide himself out from under the house? You think somebody came up from . . .” Billy couldn’t finish his sentence. He and Paul had tried many times to talk about their adventure, but since Argo gave them the special tea to drink, they could say nothing of what happened during those three days in Shumbus, and they could say nothing now.

“I know what you mean,” said Paul. “Let me knock all the mud off.” Paul ran his shirt tail across the edge of the window frame. “If there’s mud here again, we’ll know it happened after today.”

“Good idea. You think maybe Mr. Hubbard came back?” Billy asked.

“I don’t know. If he did, why would he have to sneak around? He could start living in his house again and make some excuse about being away all this time.”

“I guess. Then it has to be someone else.”

“Yeah, but who?”

The boys’ eyes met, but neither had an answer.

“We can’t let your grandfather find out about this,” Billy warned.

“Suppose he hears noises again tonight? He’ll come look, he said. Wait, what’s that?” Paul shone the light on a large, square piece of wooden flooring tossed into a corner of the muddy space beneath the house.

“It looks like the underneath part that blocked the trap door opening before,” Billy cried.

On their first visit at the beginning of the summer, they managed to pull open the trapdoor in the kitchen only to reveal another piece of wooden floor beneath it blocking their way—the piece they now shone their light on.

“Shall we go under?” Billy asked.

“No, we’ll get muddy, and my grandfather’ll want to know how. What if we try to stay awake tonight as long as we can and watch this house?”

“Yeah! We’ll keep watch. We might see . . . something.” Billy cast a nervous glance at his friend. “Let’s get back before your grandfather gets home and asks us where we’ve been.”

The boys hurried across the street.

NEW RELEASE February 1, 2014

The Storm Prince by M. L. John

#gypsyshadow #fantasy #youngadult

http://www.amazon.com/Storm-Prince-Knight-Avalon-ebook/dp/B00I5ZF7GO

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-storm-prince-m-l-john/1118427521

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/403860

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/MLJohn.html#SPrince

A defiant prince of Faerie fights to retake his homeland and uphold the ideals for which his father was executed. The Storm Prince, by M. L. John. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at: 

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/MLJohn.html#SPrince

Beriani Quintinar, the youngest son of Faerie’s High king, is brilliant, beautiful, and spoiled as only a prince of the Sidhe can be. He has committed an unforgivable sin—he has fallen in love with the half-human daughter of a traitor. When ogres conquer Avalon and execute his father, he must convince the treacherous Queen of Summer to give him troops enough to win back his homeland. But if he makes it home, what kind of king can he be when he has already committed treason?

Word Count: 50000

Pages to Print: 165

Price: $4.99

NEW RELEASE February 1, 2014!

Sci-Magickal by Teel James Glenn

#gypsyshadow #steampunk #youngadult

http://www.amazon.com/Sci-Magickal-Mabuse-World-Sci-Magickal-James-Glenn-ebook/dp/B00I5VQI20

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sci-magickal-teel-james-glenn/1118427411

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/403856

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Teel.html#Sci-Magickal

Jeremy Cross goes to Germany to study Magick, but instead becomes the pawn in an incredible plan to kill a king and take over an empire. Three short steampunk stories from master story-teller, Teel James Glenn. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Teel.html#Sci-Magickal

When Jeremy Cross gets his scholarship to the Mabuse School for New Magicks in Germany, he has no idea what he is in for: the only Englishman in the academy, he receives all sorts of ribbing, yet he makes friends. When some of those friends, Elke, Gert and Oswald, come up with a wild scheme to break into the old Castle Godesburg and search for an ancient treasure, he goes along with them. None of them imagine they'll discover an ancient talisman of power or that poor Jeremy will become the victim of ancient magicks so powerful that none of his instructors can control them.

Things go from bad to worse when he becomes the pawn of fellow students in an incredible plan to kill a king and take over an empire. Old school days have never been like this!

Word Count: 37,800
Pages to Print: 131
Price: $4.99

COMING FEBRUARY 1, 2014!

The Storm Prince by M. L. John

#gypsyshadow #fantasy #youngadult

A defiant prince of Faerie fights to retake his homeland and uphold the ideals for which his father was executed. The Storm Prince, by M. L. John, coming soon!

Beriani Quintinar, the youngest son of Faerie’s High king, is brilliant, beautiful, and spoiled as only a prince of the Sidhe can be. He has committed an unforgivable sin—he has fallen in love with the half-human daughter of a traitor. When ogres conquer Avalon and execute his father, he must convince the treacherous Queen of Summer to give him troops enough to win back his homeland. But if he makes it home, what kind of king can he be when he has already committed treason?

Word Count: 50000

Pages to Print: 165

Price: $4.99

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1

Karen was sick, very sick. Just below her breast was a gash deep enough to flay her skin from the wet, red muscle below it. Pus and blood had dried in a striated crust on the surface of the make-shift bandage, and when Beri pinned her hands in one of his own to peel the fabric away, she struggled against him and cried out.

Red lines of infection, spiky and multiple as the limbs of a spider, radiated toward her heart. The wound needed stitches. The girl had not bled to death, though it had been a near thing. Beriani Quintinar had allowed himself to believe the worst was over and she would pull through until this very moment. He swallowed alarm as she turned her face away from him, the tendon in her neck standing out. Good. He hoped she was too ill to have noticed the dismay in his expression.

It took all of his High Court conditioning to keep his voice calm. “This is abscessed. You need a healer, and now.” Goddess, they were in the middle of nowhere, days away from civilization. “Just . . . just stay here. I will find one.”

Her head whipped about, dark eyes wide and wild. Curls stuck in sweating clumps to her forehead. Her lips were colorless as the belly of a dead fish.

“What? No! You can’t leave me! What if the Ogres find me? What am I supposed to do?”

Beri shook his head. “Karen. I have to get help. You are in no shape to travel any farther. You have to stay here.”

“No.” The wounded girl pushed herself up onto her elbows. A spurt of cloudy blood gushed from her side where the scab had ripped loose. Beri pushed against her shoulder to keep her still. Through clenched teeth she said, “I’ll go with you.”

“How can you?” Taking a shaky breath, he added, “You are pale and sweating. Mother. I have done this with my idiocy. I never should have let you come.”

Karen’s eyes flashed. “Yeah, you’re a real jackass. I forced you to bring me along and then I threw myself between you and an archer. This is all your fault.”

Beri glared at her and she glared back. She was right; of course she was right. No one let Karen MacGregor do anything, even when one happened to be the eldest surviving member of the royal Quintinar house. Sighing, he tucked one of her damp curls behind her ear.

“I will offer you a compromise,” Beri suggested. “I will stay here until you fall asleep. Then I will erect a defensive circle and go for a healer. Will that do?”

She blinked. “What if something happens to you?”

Beri considered his answer carefully, his desire to keep her calm warring with his need to keep her safe. “Your chances are as small if I stay as if I am unable to come back. You cannot ask me to watch you die when I can help you. There is nothing so cruel in you.”

She chewed the corner of her bottom lip, then nodded. Her gaze was haunted with fear. “You’ll stay until I fall asleep?”

Beri pulled her against his side and she rested her head against his heart. She was as hot as a sun and trembled endlessly. She must have spent the entire night worsening in order to be this sick at dawn. He had asked her to tell him if the wound started to hurt again, but he had known even as he said it he could not stop infection if it happened. His magic was not in healing. She must have seen through him. She always did.

Karen’s ragged breathing slowed and evened. He dropped a kiss onto the top of her hair and managed to extricate his arm from under her. She didn’t wake.

He cast the circle as he had promised; he even attempted to disguise their makeshift camp—though he had little talent for Glamourie. He turned his fear into violence and sang a song of lightning before he left her. Perhaps this delicate half-human beauty would die of her wounds, but she would not be accosted by anything from outside his defenses.

Beri stumbled as he walked away from her and his vision blurred. He paused only long enough to shake the fog from his brain and rub his eyes clear. He didn’t have much left now. He needed to find help, and quickly.

On all sides of him, the Enchanted Forest stretched as far as his eyes could see, emerald green and changeless. Birds sang above his head and shafts of sunlight struggled through the thick leaves to pierce the wooded gloom. Finding help would be easiest accomplished with magic, but it had been days since he’d eaten a proper meal and the protective circle had exhausted him. Mage exhaustion lurked in the weight of his limbs.

Beri had no idea where he might go to find help. Even if he found a healer in this lush wasteland, it was unlikely she might be induced to use her skills on his companion. Karen was half-Fey. Her very birth had been an act of treason. He started walking anyway.

Beri was a wizard; he had spent the entirety of his childhood studying meteomancy and was therefore not much given to superstition, but as he walked he prayed. Mother of Us All, let me find some village with a kindly populace or a clever hedge witch. Please do not let Karen die.

I have only now grown courage enough to love her.

But either the Goddess did not hear or She did not care, because Beri wandered on and on and no miracle appeared. His belly grew empty, but he had no time to see to its demands. He had become increasingly used to hunger since fleeing Avalon. He ignored it.

In the distance, a faint sound increased to a dull, steady roar. Beri paused, then altered his direction. It sounded like water, perhaps a strong river. Water Fey often had healing magic. Perhaps he could convince one of them to come back to camp with him.

Cynical, he thought, Having a Quintinar owe you a favor is no small prize.

Through the trees water shone, coin-silver, in the sunlight. As he approached, Beri realized he had miscalculated: he had not found a river. At his feet lay the edge of a tall, white cliff, and below him was a lake so huge it stretched past the range of his vision. White waves crashed against the rocks at the cliff base, and around these the sinuous, scaly tails of mermaids flicked plumes of water into the air.

Beri thought, Where there are mermaids, there are Nixies to eat them, and shuddered. No. There would be no healers in those viciously populated waters. He turned away from the cliff’s edge and moved back inland.

This aimless wandering was not helping. He did not want to wear out his slim energies, but the girl he loved was going to die if he did not think of a better way. Perhaps . . . perhaps he would just open his senses a little and let the weather flow into him. Reading air currents was something he could do with minimal effort. Closing his eyes to aid his concentration, Beri breathed in the magic hovering in the air around him. Power filled his head and chest like the smell of distant rain.

Above him and to the East, that evening’s pending storm was a knot of potential at the edge of his senses. He felt the moisture in the clouds, the sharp snap of electricity as energy built. There, too, hidden in the condensing raindrops was the salt tang of grief, sharp enough to sting. He knew the storms were for his father. Until someone took the High Crown, Thael Quintinar’s rampaging magic would be free to disrupt the natural patterns of everyday life in Faerie. Or perhaps the Goddess missed him as Beri did and these storms were how she wept.

Focus, fool, he told himself. He dropped his attention into the forest canopy above his head. Birds and rodents altered the patterns of the wind currents as air splashed against them; a swarm of pixies generated their own cloud of magical potential. The barometric pressure dipped between the ancient, sleeping trees. Soon, it would be raining. The small animals that dwelt in the branches moved to and fro as they prepared to take cover.

Hot air rose. His awareness rode the currents of cool air toward the ground. The disturbances in the air were larger here. The lake breathed mist into the waiting sky as its top layer evaporated. He turned his attention away from it; a body of water was too much input and would not help his search. He was looking for something living. Particles of air forced themselves against a bear’s shape, then splashed back against him as the creature shook itself. A rabbit expelled its last puff of breath and began to cool as a fox buried its snout into entrails hot enough to release vapor. No. He needed something sentient. A healer.

Closer than he expected, almost close enough to hear a shout, something walked on two legs. Beri’s attention snapped to it and his focus narrowed. The person felt large, almost as large as the bear. A troll, then, or a rock sprite? He hummed a breeze just strong enough to kiss the person’s face. The moving currents outlined a pair of long tusks like those of a boar extruding from the creature’s bottom lip.

Beri recoiled. Ogres, he thought. They were closer now than they had been since Karen was wounded. In the back of his memory, the Wizard Gen whispered, Focus, young prince. Was it one Ogre or many? The answer could mean life or death. His consciousness eddied against a second warm body, then a third, then a group around a cook fire. A troop, then. A troop close enough to hit with a well-thrown rock.

Another mind brushed his thoughts like a caressing hand. Meteomancer, it greeted.

Beri’s eyes flew open and he ran.

Behind him, a voice shouted in Ogre. Branches broke and foliage crashed. Beri swerved around a tree and jumped over a fallen log. He had magic enough to defend against the number of Ogres that chased him, but that voice in his head was wizard-strong. That much magic meant other Fey. After the strain of living in the forest for nearly two weeks, he was not up to a full-on wizard’s duel. Who were they? Avalon was not at war with other Fey! Still, he heard the musical voices of trained magic users mingling with the harsh tones of shouting Ogres. Perhaps Avalon had not been at war with them, but they certainly wanted him now.

He had to get back to Karen; those wizards might be strong enough to break the circle in which he had left her. He shouted down his wards as he drew into sight of his camp and dove into the tent he had made them from leaves and a purple string.

He shook her awake, hard. With one hand she rubbed her face. “I’m up, I’m up.”

“Good,” Beri whispered as Karen opened her eyes. “We have to run.”

Her sleepiness and confusion turned to fear all in an instant. “What is it?”

“Keep your voice down,” Beri hissed. “Ogres. They know where we are.”

“Oh, no,” Karen whispered back. “How did they find us?”

“There are Fey with them,” Beri told her. “They could have tracked us with a hair, or a drop of blood. Their methodology is endless.”

Karen shot him a look of wide-eyed fear and pushed past him to peer through the tent flaps. Then she turned back, gasping. “Sidhe. There are Sidhe hunting us. What are we going to do?”

They were already within her line of sight, then. “Run.”

He dragged her out of the tent. He reined himself in as much as he could bear. She was too sick to run, and she was not full Sidhe. Even the pace he kept taxed her; her breathing rasped in the air behind him.

“What are we going to do?” Karen panted.

“I do not know,” Beri said. His brain buffeted itself against the inside of his skull as he tried to think and run. “They will wear you out long before we wear them out. We have to think of a way to lose them, and quickly.”

“We’ve got to stop,” Karen gasped. “I’m bleeding.”

“If we stop, they will have us in seconds,” Beri said, though his steps faltered. Goddess, he was killing her. “We have to find a way to hide from them.”

“The blood will leave a trail, like before,” Karen observed.

“You may be right about that,” Beri said. “Wait! I have an idea!”

It was raining, he realized for the first time, and darkness had fallen. He had been too panicked to notice. The smell of salt water rode the evening air. If the lake’s energy had disrupted his concentration, it would do the same thing to the wizards who hunted them. He sent his magic spinning between the pounding raindrops to locate the lake’s direction and hauled her toward it.

The lake wasn’t far. In the darkness the water was black and the tidal foam was white against it. The stones below rose above the water, pale as jagged teeth.

Grimly, Beri said, “It’s the Lake of Dark Dreams. We climb down here.”

“Oh, I get it,” Karen panted and held her hand over her wound. Blood, black in the moonlight, soaked her shirt and her fingers. “They can’t get our scent over the water. Good idea.”

“Right. And the waves will break their tracking magic.” Whatever Karen said, this was a terrible idea. But it was the only one he had. He considered her wound. “The only problem is the Nixies.”

“Why are they a problem?” Karen asked.

“Well, they are more like sentient sharks than people. If you encounter any, be very, very polite to them. They are fierce, but they always appreciate good manners. For the Mother’s sake, whatever you do, do not thank them.” He hoped it would help.

“And how did you say we’re going to get down there?”

Beri patted his pockets, looking for his string. Meteomancer or not, even first-year magic students could use sympathetic magic to turn a piece of yarn into a rope. A smart wizard’s kit always included a pitch pipe, a match, and one string. Behind them, a group of Daoine Sidhe glowed silver against the darkness. There were more of them than he had feared. “We will have to climb. Did you see where I left that string?”

Karen asked, “The purple one? You left it back at camp.”

“Mother’s Hair, that was the only string I had. Damn. We shall have to jump.”

With a hiss and a thud, an arrow stuck in Beri’s side. Karen screamed even as the force of the bolt propelled him over the side of the cliff.

As he fell he thought, Karen.

COMING FEBRUARY 1, 2014!

Sci-Magickal by Teel James Glenn

#gypsyshadow #steampunk #youngadult

When Jeremy Cross gets his scholarship to the Mabuse School for New Magicks in Germany, he has no idea what he is in for: the only Englishman in the academy, he receives all sorts of ribbing, yet he makes friends. When some of those friends, Elke, Gert and Oswald, come up with a wild scheme to break into the old Castle Godesburg and search for an ancient treasure, he goes along with them. None of them imagine they'll discover an ancient talisman of power or that poor Jeremy will become the victim of ancient magicks so powerful that none of his instructors can control them.

Things go from bad to worse when he becomes the pawn of fellow students in an incredible plan to kill a king and take over an empire. Old school days have never been like this!

Word Count: 37,800

Pages to Print: 131

Price: $4.99

Excerpt

Part I:

The War Girdle

Chapter One

Breaking into a Donjon is Just Wrong!

I must say in all honestly, had alcohol not been involved in the incident, perhaps my life might have been different; perhaps not better, but certainly different.

The circumstance came about when we were sitting in the rathskeller in Bad Godesberg after classes. I was taking the usual ribbing. I was the only English student at the Mabuse School for New Magicks, but that was not the reason they hazed me. They would have tormented me, were I full blood Prussian like they, or French, or what have you, because I was the new student.

I had only been at the school for six months, having transferred in from the Academy D’arc in Ireland. My parents had decided the continent was where the best in alchemical arts could be studied and, since the opening up of the European conference of Magicks and Science had normalized such studies—even over the objections of the Papacy—it was now a respected profession.

I had been interested in Magick since as a child I had seen a minor conjurer at a fair back in Wycombe change a rabbit into a hawk. It was just before Germany won the World War using those principles when it was still frowned upon.

“Stop wool gathering, Englander,” Gert Von Handler said. “You have to throw the dart.” He stroked along the smite scar on his left cheek from his mensur dueling. He was very proud of his Schmiss.

I was standing in the underground, smoke-filled pub and had already had several tankards of good German beer. I had gained a reputation as the dart man in the underclass during the months I had been there and was straining to uphold it against my archrival, Gert.

“I’m just waiting for the spirit to move me,” I said. “One cannot rush perfection.”

This made Oswald, my rotund friend and Elke, the beautiful blonde classmate who seemed to always hang around with our group, break into gales of laughter.

“Oh shoot, Jeremy,” Oswald sneered. “I am growing old while you wait for ghosts to move you.”

I shot him a dirty look and went back to sighing my dart.

“Take your time,” Elke said with that pout that drove us all crazy. “He just doesn’t want to pay for another round of drinks.”

Gert made a disgusted sound and I knew her barb had struck home. I squinted at the board and launched my own missile. It struck true to the center of the board.

Bullseye!

“Have you ever paid for a round of drinks?’ Elke asked me when Jenna the bar maid brought our new drinks.

“Many,” I said, “but not for a time; I led a wasted youth in many pubs.”

Gert snorted at that. He was the poser image of the New Germany; a blond tall, well-muscled demi-god with piercing blue eyes and a dueling scar on his left cheek that proclaimed him as a child of the Junkers. He was the apple of his military family’s eye and had shocked many of the traditionalists when he chose to study the Magickal arts, but as he put it, “We won the war, in part because of the Sci-Magickal advances that great men like Mabuse and Himmler brought to bear. It is only logical that I learn all there is to know about it.” I remember he had smiled a predator’s smile when he added, “I will not beat my sword into a plow shear; simply add a wand to my arsenal.”

I had no such lofty or nationalistic goals. My parents were modest merchants who ran a hostelry outside of High Wycombe and simply had hopes for me to make it through university and find a profession. They were shocked when I took the entrance exam for the Academy D’arc, and more so when the inquisitor said I had true Magickal talent.

A year in Ireland, however, left me feeling that somehow I was not getting the instruction I could be. And when representatives of the Mabuse School had visited and presented a seminar on transformational energy, I knew that I had to study there. I had been able to convince the professor, one Herr Magus Shikelgruber, to allow me into an exchange student program.

My parents, especially my mother, were not happy with me being among the Irish, and now the thought of being in the midst of our former enemies and conquerors was almost too much for them. But it was a scholarship and they relented.

So now I was the new boy on the block, the Englander, to all in the school and often the butt of jokes.

I took it all in stride, for it meant I was learning things in the way I wanted. The instructors were the finest in the world and the students—even the self-possessed Gert—were some of the most talented in the arts. They, and I hoped I, would be the true future of the world.

“I overheard Magus Maurius shouting at old Adolph today,” Elke said. She was a lovely girl, almost as tall as me, with a girlish figure blossoming to womanhood in the most pleasing way. Her eyes sparkled all the time, and I think half the underclassmen had a crush on her. I know I did.

“What were they on about?” Oswald asked as he stuffed yet another piece of strudel into his maw.

We all leaned in to hear the details; the two professors seemed always to be at odds over issues Magickal. Their arguments were almost legendary.

“Maurius was going on about the Halbesel formulae that Adolph uses and saying it was nonsense.”

“No!” Gert said, “He actually said that?”

“Yes,” Oswald insisted, “he said nonsense! Then Adolph started that sputtering speech of his about the great past of Germany and Heimat historians using the spells and how could someone like Maurius who was not part of the Volk community . . .”

“No!” Elke gasped, then she giggled. “I wish I could have seen Maurius’ face.”

“I didn’t dare peek around the edge of the doorway to look,” Oswald said as he cleaned his third plate of the evening. “But Maurius went on about how it was pure speculation that the pre-Christians used the Halbesel spells that Skiky was so up on.”

“And Adolph let that sit?” I said. My sponsor was known for his powerful speeches and arguments.

“Oh, he shot back with, ‘the Heimat inhabitants used many peaks to call to the god Wotan the god of war, death and the hunt, and with such symbols as warrior girdles were able to effect changes like even to the bear shirts or Berserkers.’”

Elke laughed. “He gave that same speech last week when we asked him about the Godesberg references in the old spell book.” I noticed that the tip of her nose moved like a bunny’s when she laughed: a little thing, but a delightful one.

“Yes,” Gert said, his angular features taking on a stern cast. “I remember he talked about his theory about a secret vault from the late 14th century, somewhere up in the old fortress from when it had become the repository of the Elector’s valuables and archives.”

“Do you think it could be real?” Elke asked, “I mean, if it was, wouldn’t they have found it by now?”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “I remember when I first got here I read in the guide book that the old castle was under the district’s historical agency and we weren’t supposed to go near it because of jurisdictional concerns.”

“I have heard something of that,” Gert said. “The Bonn city council claims it and Bad Godesberg claims it and the state historical council wants to restore it. And they have been fighting over it for years.”

“That’s what I love about your German courts,” I said, for once enjoying being the outsider. “If a thing can be drawn out for a day, it can be drawn out for a decade!”

“Do you think there really is a secret vault in the castle donjon, like Adolph says?” Elke asked.

“I trust what he says,” I said. “The fort itself was established on an ancient cult site, or so he said.”

“No matter how silly his mustache is?” Elke said with a grin.

“Yes,” I said, sticking my tongue out at her. “I think if he says it’s there, it’s probably in there.”

“We ought to just sneak in and see,” Oswald said casually as he slurped up another ale.

There was sudden silence at the table and the other three of us looked at each other with the same startled expressions.

“What are you all looking at?” Oswald asked when he realized we had stopped our usual banter.

“You are a genius, Oswald, my round friend,” I said. I knew by their look that the other two had indeed come to the same conclusion.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“We can get into the old castle and look for the vault of spells!” Gert said. “It would be a great coup, and the information we could find is rightfully the Fatherland’s!” He looked at me when he said it, and I knew he was already thinking of some way to exclude me from the expedition.

I was having none of that.

“Come on, then,” I said, rising from the table a bit unsteadily from the tankards I had consumed. “Let’s go!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TEEL JAMES GLENN has traveled the world for thirty years as a stuntman, fight choreographer, swordmaster, jouster, illustrator, storyteller, bodyguard and actor. One of the things he’s proudest of is having studied under Errol Flynn’s last stunt double. Mr. Glenn continues to teach swordwork in New York.

His stories have been printed in scores of magazines from Weird Tales to Mad to Black Belt to Fantasy World Geographic, Blazing Adventures and Tales of Old. He has over two dozen books and anthologies in print in many genres including Steampunk, Western, Mystery and the bestselling SF Thriller series, The Exceptionals. One was a finalist in the EPIC eBook awards in 2009.

He is the winner of the 2012 Pulp Ark Best Author of the Year. Epic eBook award finalist. Preditors and Editors Readers Poll winner: Best Steampunk Short finalist, Best Fantasy Short Collection, Best Fantasy Short Story, Best Horror Short Story and in the Thriller and Mystery Novel categories; Author of The Maxi/Moxie Series, The Dr. Shadows Series, Jon Shadows Series and others.

WEBSITE: http//www.theurbanswashbuckler.com
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/teeljamesglenn
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/teeljamesglenn

Upcoming Releases for 2014--COMING SOON!

The Storm Prince, COMING SOON by M. L. John

Cover art by Chaz Kemp (http://www.chazkemp.com)

#gypsyshadow #fantasy #youngadult

Beriani Quintinar, the youngest son of Faerie’s High king, is brilliant, beautiful, and spoiled as only a prince of the Sidhe can be. He has committed an unforgivable sin—he has fallen in love with the half-human daughter of a traitor. When ogres conquer Avalon and execute his father, he must convince the treacherous Queen of Summer to give him troops enough to win back his homeland. But if he makes it home, what kind of king can he be when he has already committed treason?

A defiant prince of Faerie fights to retake his homeland and uphold the ideals for which his father was executed. The Storm Prince, by M. L. John, coming soon!

GSP's Book of the Day December 20

Zvonek 08 Book 3 by Anne H. Petzer

#gypsyshadow #shortstories #fantasy #cat

Operation Catwalk—At last the most prestigious event of the year is being held in Prague. The Miss Feline CZ. Zvonek and Honza are looking forward to attending. The five finalists are chosen and The Mau is gearing up for the grand finale. Everything is on schedule when an alert on Vladimir's desk reveals strange happenings around the finalists that could sabotage the competition. Will Zvonek discover who is behind the attacks in time, or will the show just have to go on?

The High Life—Metaxa is suspicious of an elegant tom who arrives in Prague. When she meets him at a dinner with Zvonek and Honza he is witty, rich and appears to like her. Will she be taken in by his charm and wealth, or listen to her inner voice? What is his real connection to the strays and is he connected to Zvonek's latest mission?

Word Count:  19300

Pages to Print: 68

Price: $3.99

http://www.amazon.com/Operation-Catwalk-High-Zvonek-ebook/dp/B00BENGP5G
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/operation-catwalk-the-high-life-zvonek-08-4-anne-h-petzer/1114511493
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/284721
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/AnneHPetzer.html#Zvonek3

Zvonek and Honza are caught in between beauty queens and drug dealers, working against time to keep felines safe and secure in Prague. Operation Catwalk and The High Life, Zvonek 08 FICR #4 by Anne H. Petzer. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/AnneHPetzer.html#Zvonek3

GSP's Book of the Day December 9

Winter Queen by Aubrie Dionne

#gypsyshadow #fantasy #shortstory

The Snow Queen has haunted the northern lands for generations using the temptation of a fabled paradise to lure men to their deaths. Can Barrow Tiln, a local farmer’s son melt her heart and set her free, or will she freeze his body and steal his soul?

Word Count: 3989

Pages to Print: 19

Price: $2.99

http://www.amazon.com/Winter-Queen-Seasons-Fantasy-ebook/dp/B0044KMP46
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/winter-queen-aubrie-dionne/1102735776
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/4514
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Aubrie.html#Winter

 

Can a local farmer's son melt the Snow Queen's heart and set her free to love again? Winter Queen, a short story by Aubrie Dionne. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Aubrie.html#Winter

GSP's Book of the Day December 5

Voice of the Forest by T. M. Hobbs

#gypsyshadow #fairytale #shortstory

Elissa seeks sanctuary among the forest veil from a cruel stepmother, until she finds herself lost and alone. The shadows stretch long and ominous around her. She finds comfort in a stranger's voice; the voice of a man who sought shelter from the world in that same forest.

The days pass and a friendship develops that blossoms into something much deeper. Elissa, however, has never seen her friend's face and quite possibly never will. Charles has hidden in the forest for good reason, and even though his feelings have grown for Elissa, he fears they can never be together.

Word Count: 4100

Pages to Print: 17 

Price: 2.99

http://www.amazon.com/Voice-Forest-Voices-Abound-ebook/dp/B006GKARBK
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/voice-of-the-forest-t-m-hobbs/1107830871
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/109778
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/TMHobbs.html#VForest

Hidden, the forest his protection, Charles remains alone. Elissa seeks sanctuary there, drawn to his voice. He watches over, guides her and comes to loves her. Voice of the Forest, a short story by T. M. Hobbs. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/TMHobbs.html#VForest

GSP's Book of the Day November 29

Time Warped by Tracey L. Pacelli

#gypsyshadow #youngadult #timetravel

In her Bible-thumping town, Lanie Landry is a teen misfit without a cause. After a tragic accident that kills her adopted mother, Lanie escapes from the hospital where she was admitted for psychological observation. At a service station she accepts shelter from a kindly old woman. The next morning she awakens to find herself in the violent ward of an insane asylum in 1969. How can she escape this horrible nightmare? Remarkably, in the most awful of all places, Lanie finds her biological mother and falls in love with a mysterious inmate.

Word Count: 56000

Pages to Print: 185  /178

Price: $4.99

http://www.amazon.com/Time-Warped-ebook/dp/B005PFTSKS
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/time-warped-tracey-l-pacelli/1105893911
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/91478
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/TraceyLPacelli.html#TW

A troubled teen wakes up in an insane asylum. There, she finds her biological mom and falls for a mysterious inmate. Time Warped, TA fantasy/time travel novel by Tracey L. Pacelli. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/TraceyLPacelli.html#TW

GSP's Book of the Day November 9

The Pebble by Amanda Tucker

#gypsyshadow #youngsdule #shortstory

Somewhere, somehow, I had become submerged in darkness with seemingly no way out. No way out. I should have lost hope, but there was one memory that saved me, kept me going when nothing else mattered. You were my hope. As long as I remembered you, I would fight.

Word Count: 5507

Pages to Print: 20 

Price: 2.99

http://www.amazon.com/The-Pebble-ebook/dp/B005NWRKIK
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-pebble-amanda-tucker/1105794086
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/89797
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/AmandaTucker.html#Pebble

I should have given up—there was no way out of my prison—but there was one thing that kept me going, and that was you. The Pebble, a short story by Amanda Tucker. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/AmandaTucker.html#Pebble

GSP's Book of the Day November 6

The Mystery of Whale House by Hendrik van Oordt

#gypsyshadow #mystery #youngadult

Shipped off to an aunt and uncle on remote Rew island while their parents are moving house, Frank, Dana and Martin are bored to death in a place without internet or even proper cell phone reception. All the locals talk about is the lobster catch. But just when our city-bred heroes decide to start boycotting their aunt's fish soup, they hear a story about a mad woman and her son living in Whale House, a Gothic monstrosity perched on an isolated peninsula up north. Cut off from the remainder of the island by a sudden storm, the three teens are forced to seek refuge in Whale House, where they discover a terrible secret. After considerable adventures, they come face to face with their captors, who cannot afford to let them escape…

Word Count: 32500

Pages to Print: 112

Price: $3.99

http://www.amazon.com/The-Mystery-Whale-House-ebook/dp/B005D1CCNY
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-mystery-of-whale-house-hendrik-van-oordt/1104301800
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/73619
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/HendrikvanOordt.html#WhaleHouse

Cut off by a storm, three teenagers seek refuge in a lonely house where they discover a terrible secret and face a captor who cannot afford to let them escape… The Mystery of Whale House by Hendrik van Oordt. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/HendrikvanOordt.html#WhaleHouse

GSP's Book of the Day October 26

The Green Man's Curse by R. M. Brandon

#gypsyshadow #horror #youngadult

Rein's summer of dreams would soon become a season of nightmares. What begins as a farewell trip for a group of eight lifelong suburban friends becomes far more permanent than they had planned. When a four-wheeler accident in an ancient forest awakens a centuries-old curse, new friends are made and old friends die. Wrapped in a world unlike anything she ever imagined, Rein is forced to confront the demons of her family's past. As she denies the love she feels for her best friend's twin brother, Conley, they fight an array of magical beasts whose sole intention is to kill anything human and reclaim the earth for their own.

Word Count: 58350

Pages to Print: 185

Price: $4.99

 

http://www.amazon.com/Green-Mans-Curse-Witan-ebook/dp/B0090R3OCU

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-green-mans-curse-r-m-brandon/1112582153

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/217425

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/RMBrandon.html#GMC

An accident during an off-road festival in an ancient forest awakens a curse that turns a group of friends’ summer of dreams into a season of nightmares. The Green Man's Curse by R. M. Brandon. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/RMBrandon.html#GMC

GSP's Book of the Day October 8

The Cat Lottery by John Des Fosses

#gypsyshadow #youngadult #fantasy

Camille has exhausted the last of her nine lives. Under strict cat law, she must depart this earth for the eternal tenth life. Pioline and Poulet, her eight-week-old kittens, are left behind. Willed by Camille’s departed spirit, Boots, her aging brother, finds the kittens under the deck of John and Sandi’s house. They are wired with fear and spirits so lost they might never be found.

Boots, a life long stray, confesses he is ill suited for the caring of kittens. He must devise a plan to convince the humans to take the kittens into their home. A more daunting task is to convince the kittens they should become house cats. Sandi becomes an unwitting partner in his plan. John becomes an unwitting foil. Learn the laws that govern a cat's life and how they deal with death, fear, joy, humor and love.

Word Count: 33000

Pages to Print: 121

Price: $4.99 (Also available in print!)

http://www.amazon.com/The-Cat-Lottery-ebook/dp/B008R19PBY
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cat-lottery-john-des-fosses/1112313495
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/209910
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/JohnDesFosses.html#CatLot

Cats have ten lives. Discover the laws that govern their being and how they deal with death, fear, joy, humor and love. The Cat Lottery by John Des Fosses. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/JohnDesFosses.html#CatLot

GSP's Book of the Day September 26

Texas Vampire Mini Massacre by Laney Stryker

#gypsyshadow  #shortstory #vampires

Cheyenne McAlister is a cancer survivor by day and vampire slayer by night (in her dreams). When she answers a peculiar employment ad in the paper, Cheyenne finds more than she bargained for. Not only is the ad a trap, but she meets Garrett Sims, who's also checking on the ad. She finds herself intrigued by the boy, but ends up disappointed after a miscommunication. Can Cheyenne get past what she learned about Garrett? Will the two join forces and kick some Vampire butt?

Word Count: 5200

Pages to Print: 21

Price: $ 2.99

http://www.amazon.com/Texas-Vampire-Mini-Massacre-ebook/dp/B004UH1LE8
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/texas-vampire-mini-massacre-laney-stryker/1030691331
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/50010
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/LaneyStryker.html#MiniMass

Cheyenne and Garrett find more than just a strong attraction to each other when they meet at a house full of hungry vampires. Texas Mini Vampire Mini-Massacre, a YA short story by Laney Stryker. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/LaneyStryker.html#MiniMass

GSP's Book of the Day September 21

Summer Sprite by Aubrie Dionne

#gypsyshadow #checkeditout #yaromance

As a love fairy, Kira Flutter has been pairing couples up for centuries. She meets her match when a dashing young sailor arrives at her doorstep asking for his heart's desire. Will she grant him his wish, and usher him into the arms of another? Or will she fall in love and claim him for herself.

Word Count: 4769

Pages to Print:23

Price: $2.99

http://www.amazon.com/Summer-Sprite-Seasons-Fantasy-ebook/dp/B00433TH90
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/summer-sprite-aubrie-dionne/1018688959
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/4513
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Aubrie.html#Summer

Will Kira grant the handsome young sailor his wish for love in the arms of another, or claim him for herself? Summer Sprite, a short story from the Seasons of Fantasy Series by Aubrie Dionne. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Aubrie.html#Summer

GSP's Book of the Day September 18

Spring Maiden by Aubrie Dionne

#gypsyshadow #checkeditout #yaromance

Fleeing an arranged marriage, Elana Fallwater trespasses into a ring of toadstools and is spellbound. She becomes the Spring Maiden, eternally roaming the budding woods in a trance. Warren Cutter, an expert huntsman, has been tracking her for years and has stumbled into her clearing. Will he shoot an arrow through her heart, or will she enchant him in her glade?

                                                                                                          

Word Count: 4769

Pages to Print:21

Price: $2.99

http://www.amazon.com/Spring-Maiden-Seasons-Fantasy-ebook/dp/B0044KMP3W
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/spring-maiden-aubrie-dionne/1018688951
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/4512
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Aubrie.html#Spring

Spring Maiden, Book Two in the Seasons of Fantasy Series; young adult fantasy romance short story by Aubrie Dionne. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Aubrie.html#Spring