Faerie Blood
About the Book
Faerie Blood
Faerie Blood is my very first novel, and was released in May of 2009 by Drollerie Press. It’s intended to be the first of a trilogy, as well as the first of what I hope to make a whole set of inter-related works, including other novels and shorter stories as well. (So far, these other words include “The Blood of the Land”, which appears in Defiance, and various character vignettes right here on the site. Faerie Blood‘s first sequel, tentatively called Bone Walker, is currently in progress.)
Kendis Thompson of Seattle thinks she’s as normal as the next computer geek, and up till now, she’s been right. But her world is about to turn on its ear, for she is the daughter of a Seelie Court mage and her mortal husband–and her faerie blood is awakening. Suddenly the city she’s known all her life is transforming before her eyes. Trolls haunt the bike trails. Fairies and goblins run loose in the streets. An old woman who is not what she seems and a young wanderer running from his past stand ready to defend Seattle–and Kendis–from magical assault. She will need those allies, for the power rising within her is calling her fey kin to the Emerald City to find her. And kill her.
Excerpt
“Shit,” I squeaked. Then I shrieked in mounting terror at the man sprawled on the trail, “Get up!”
He stirred. His eyes flickered, urgency warring with grogginess in his bearded features as he clued in that he was now up the proverbial creek, unequipped with paddle. But he couldn’t seem to make himself get out of the troll’s way, even when its next strike with the staff missed his skull by scant inches and pounded a hole into the grass instead.
Since he couldn’t move, I did.
Attacking a pissed-off troll with a Swiss Army knife was probably not the wisest thing I could have done. No, scratch that, it was definitely not the wisest thing I could have done. But wisdom wasn’t high on the agenda right then. What I saw before me was a guy getting the crap beaten out of him because he’d answered my scream for help—which made said beating my fault. And that bothered the hell out of me. I couldn’t leave someone to get his head split open like a piñata on my account without at least trying to do something to assist.
So I flicked open the knife and threw myself in a headlong rush at the creature. I’d like to say that a flash of brilliant inspiration gave me the best possible place to hit the troll with my laughably miniscule blade, and how to tackle it to knock it off of my downed rescuer. But I can’t. I can’t even say that I knew what to call the monster, much less how to fight it. My charge had all the finesse of an intoxicated farm boy trying to tip an armed and all too dangerous cow. I almost knocked myself out when I barreled low into my target, catching the staff between it and me before it could take another whack at the stranger.
Blindly I stabbed out with my little knife. I couldn’t tell where I connected; I could barely tell that I’d connected at all, thanks to almost gagging on the troll’s stench and trying not to faint as I got my other arm around it and held on for dear life. But the tip of my blade caught somewhere along its hide—caught and sank in and stayed there.
With another gurgling howl the troll let go of the staff, nearly choking me in the process as the carved wood jammed up against my throat, and started pawing frenetically at the place where I’d struck. It writhed violently, knocking me sideways, away from the tall figure spilled along the trail. And as it writhed, it began to change.
Color leeched out of its form, turning greenish-brown skin, black tufts of hair, and tusks the stained yellow of old ivory to an overall rocky gray. Flailing arms and paws began to slow, their motions increasingly sluggish, till the troll fell over onto me with one fist still reaching for the knife and the other jabbing clumsily against the ground beside my head. One great foul blast of breath from its maw nearly made me retch before that maw, too, began to freeze up and change color inside as well as out. Its screeches of pain dwindled down to a few burbling gasps, then cut off with an unmistakable finality. Before I grasped what was happening, the weight pinning me to the earth had transformed from monster to monster statue.
The troll had turned to stone.
Reviews
Buy the book
Faerie Blood unfortunately is currently without a home as Drollerie Press officially closed as of October 2011. If you’re interested in reading the book and haven’t already, I will be happy to direct-sell a copy to you. I ask five dollars for an EPUB or PDF copy, and accept payments via Paypal to my gmail address, annathepiper. Drop me a line on my Contact page if you’d like to make arrangements to buy the book!
Also, please watch my blog posts for updates as I am exploring re-publishing Faerie Blood as a self-published project, in conjunction with Bone Walker, its projected first sequel.
Recent Comments