Greetings, friends of the Book Fairies! Today I present to you an awesome boxed set you don't wanna miss.
In celebration of the release of Fate Undone, Book 5 of the Mythean Arcana series, the first four volumes are available for a limited time for only $0.99! The boxed set is now available on your favorite e-book stores. AND, don't forget to enter the giveaway at the bottom of this post for a chance to win a $25 Amazon GC.
Mythean
Arcana
Books
1-4
Mythean
Arcana Series
Linsey
Hall
Genre:
Paranormal Romance
Publisher:
Bonnie Doon Press
Date of
Publication: May 20
ISBN:
978-1-942085-34-8
ASIN: B00WDCMARY
Number of pages:
898
Word Count: 290,000
3 full length
novels, 1 novella
Cover Artist:
Damonza
Book
Description:
"Linsey
Hall's brilliantly imaginative Mythean Arcana is THE must-read series of the
year for fans of paranormal romance." - Maggie Shayne, NY Times
Bestselling Author of TWILIGHT GUARDIANS
Braving
Fate
Bookish academic
Diana Laughton has been having terrible dreams. Dreams of battle, dreams of
blood... dreams so vivid she's living them day and night. When demons invade
her quiet life and she flees to Scotland, she wonders if she's going mad. Or if
perhaps she's remembering a past life she had no idea existed...
Mythean Guardian
Cadan Trinovante loved and betrayed Britain's warrior queen Boudica two
millennia ago. Now he's tasked with protecting mortals whose lives affect the
fate of humanity. His latest assignment is Boudica herself, reincarnated as a
woman with no idea of her past or her fated future.
Thrown together
in a shadowy world that exists alongside our own, Diana and Cadan must fight
not only the demonic forces that want Diana dead, but a past and a passion that
have lasted centuries. Their desire could be deadly. But as evil from the
underworld unites against them, their only hope could be each other.
Soulceress
Three hundred
years ago, Warren sold his soul in exchange for the safety of his people. He
lives immortal and inhuman, a life in the shadows, hiding his secrets. Until
now, when he finally has the chance to reclaim his soul after three centuries
of suffering…
Esha is a
soulceress, an immortal who drains the magical powers of others. Shunned by
everyone she meets, she’s a rogue mercenary who hunts evil for a living. The
only man she cannot harm is Warren, whose secrets intrigue her and whose body
sparks her desire…
Esha is the only
person who can help Warren reclaim his soul. But what begins as a simple quest
soon becomes a deadly battle, one in which choices will be made and secrets
revealed that could tear them apart. As Esha and Warren uncover their passion,
they must defeat the evil forces unleashed against them before time runs out…
Rogue
Soul
Andrasta, Celtic
goddess of victory, has fled the cold, sterile wasteland of Otherworld for the
steamy South American jungle. It's only a matter of time before the vengeful
gods catch and punish her - unless she can convince the man she betrayed two
thousand years ago to help…
Born in
Otherworld to the life of a god, Camulos went rogue centuries ago. He's living
on the banks of the Amazon, boxing in bare-knuckled fights. The gods believe
he's dead--until Ana finds him. Ana, the woman who gave him nothing but
trouble, and the woman he could never forget…
Thrown together,
Ana and Cam must evade the wrath of the gods and a return to the living death
of Otherworld. But as they flee through the jungle - and as their passion
ignites - they find themselves at the heart of an ancient secret. One that could
kill them both and extinguish their souls forever...
Stolen
Fate
Fiona is an
Acquirer, an immortal who uses magic to hunt for ancient artifacts. Ever since
she failed to live up to her fate and find the Book of Worlds,, she’s been
slowly losing her mind as her subconscious keeps trying to accomplish her fated
task. When she’s presented with one last chance to find the Book and save her
sanity, she’ll stop at nothing to accomplish her goal.
For more than
one hundred years, Ian has been locked in a nightmarish prison. An accomplished
thief, he was thrown into hell for failing to maintain the secrecy of his
magical race. When Fiona presents him with an opportunity for escape, he’ll do
anything it takes to ensure that it’s permanent, even if it means betraying the
woman he’s grown to care for.
As Fiona and Ian
get closer to finding the book, they learn that there’s more at stake than they
ever imagined – like the fate of the world.
Chapter
One of Rogue Soul, book 3 in the Mythean Arcana series
The Caipora’s
Den
Edge of the
Amazon River, Brazil
Present Day
Andrasta,
Celtic goddess of victory, swallowed hard, her gaze transfixed by the man in
the makeshift boxing ring. Was he that handsome when I tried to kill him? Or
that brutal?
She
honestly couldn’t remember. It had been more than two thousand years since
she’d seen him last, and she barely recognized him. Dim spotlights gleamed off
sweat-slicked muscles and highlighted the feral brutality with which he pounded
his opponent. No gloves protected his big hands, just white fabric wrapped
around knuckles. They were spotted with blood.
She
swallowed hard again, unable to look away.
She’d
known she would find him here when she’d strolled up to the Caipora’s Den, a
little dive bar perched on the edge of the Amazon River. But she hadn’t
expected the outdoor boxing ring surrounded by a horde of cheering Mytheans or
that her prey would be inside it, pounding his opponent into a sack of broken
bones.
She’d
never before been to the bar, which catered only to the supernatural beings who
lived secretly alongside mortals. The building itself was ramshackle, and she
had a feeling that it was just as run-down on the inside. The outdoor lot in
which she stood was pressed between the building and the river. It housed the
boxing ring and nearly a hundred Mytheans, most of whom looked human even
though they weren’t. They screamed and cheered as punches landed with fierce
smacks.
“All
right, that’s enough,” hollered the ref, a big ugly brute who stepped forward
to end the fight. The man she’d come for stood over his collapsed opponent, his
heavily muscled chest heaving. He was declared the winner—no surprise,
considering his opponent didn’t look like he’d be getting off the floor anytime
soon.
She
sank back into the crowd when he turned to exit the ring. Though she wanted to
watch him, to devour every hard inch with her eyes, she didn’t want him to see
her before she could approach him on her terms.
Their
past was a pit of snakes, so confusing that even she couldn’t figure head from
tail though she’d lived through it. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was pissed
as hell, considering the arrows she’d sent through his heart the last time
she’d seen him. Not that he hadn’t wronged her. He had. He’d started the
nightmare that had ended in her stealing his godhood for herself. Worse, they’d
cared for each other. Until it had all gone to shit, at least.
And
now she needed his help.
She
turned and pushed her way through the crowd, toward the small bar pressed
against the outside of the building. She needed to buy herself some time to
recover from the sight of him but didn’t want to do it inside the bar where she
might lose track of him. Seeing him again made her shaky, even though it had
been so many years. She just needed a minute to catch her breath, that was all.
She
squeezed between two Mytheans of indeterminate species and reached the
bar—which was more of a table with some liquor bottles and a cooler, but it
would do.
“A
beer,” she said to the bartender, a beautiful brunette who had the slightly
feral face of some kind of shifter. Ana had never been any good at identifying
Mytheans since she rarely got away from her own kind.
The
bartender handed over a sweating glass bottle and hissed, “On the house.”
Anaconda
Incantada. The sound of her voice gave away what her features did not. She was
a snake shifter.
And
it had better be on the house. There had to be some perks to being a god, since
everything else had been a disappointment. Although Ana never tired of Mytheans
fearing or bowing to her. Some watched her warily even now, and she appreciated
it all the more for not having had it when she’d been mortal.
“How
often does this happen?” Ana asked the bartender, hiking a thumb at the ring.
The
shifter shrugged. “Every night.”
“Know
anything about the fighters?”
“Not
the loser. But the winner, he’s never lost. Fights pretty often. Seems to like
it. Keeps to himself otherwise.”
Ana
nodded and turned to look for her prey. The beer slid refreshingly down her
throat, and she sighed in pleasure at the smooth taste of the infrequently
allowed delicacy. Focusing on the taste helped calm her nerves just a bit. She
was raising the bottle to her lips a second time when she spotted him standing
off to the side of the crowd near the jungle that crept up to the dirt lot.
It
had been two thousand years since she’d seen him last, when she’d thought she’d
killed him and taken his place as a Celtic god. Those years had been kind to
him, considering that he was still alive. Almost as kind as the way-too-hot
woman draped around him, sucking on his neck while he unwrapped the bloody
cloth from his hands.
Ana
stifled the strange little twinge in her chest. She’d cared for him once, and
he for her, but that was so long ago the memories had gone to dust. Or so she
told herself. She took one last swig of the beer to chase them away.
Now
or never. If she wanted a permanent escape from Otherworld, the land of the
Celtic gods and what felt like her eternal prison, there’d be no more dawdling,
no matter how nervous she was about his reception or willingness to help her.
She
needed him. Admitting to it scraped something raw inside her. But after two
thousand years, she wanted out more than she wanted her pride.
Ana sucked
in a deep breath and wound her way through the crowd. When a lobisomem got
handsy as she passed, an elbow to the gut halted his straying paws, and a glare
stopped another. Fancy Brazilian name or not, they were dogs like the rest of
their werewolf brothers. Within moments, she’d reached the edge of the crowd
and stood before the now-kissing pair.
She
squashed her nerves as she gazed at the strong profile of the man she’d never
been able to forget—whose mouth was glued to the woman’s. He was a bruiser,
even from the side, a contrast of hard features and short ginger hair. He
looked rougher than she remembered. Bigger, too.
“Camulos,”
Ana said. She glanced dismissively at the sultry woman now trying to swallow
his tongue.
“Cam,”
he said absentmindedly as he drew his face away from the woman’s to look at
Ana. His brows shot up, his gray eyes widening the barest fraction. A scar
sliced through one of the brows.
“Recognize
me?” she asked, absorbing the fact that he no longer went by Camulos.
“Andrasta,”
he rasped, shock plain on his face.
Did
she hear his breath catch?
Hers
certainly did. He looked every inch the god he’d once been—strong and powerful,
with broad shoulders and big arms that looked like they’d been cut from steel.
A man comfortable with the mantle of worship, even if he no longer carried it.
Ana
shot a pointed glance at the other woman.
“Luciana,” he said, drawing the woman’s mouth
away from where it had suctioned onto his neck.
Ana’s
eyes zeroed in on the huge hand that cupped the back of Luciana’s neck, then
looked back to realize that he’d kept his gaze trained on her own face.
“You
need to go,” Camulos said to Luciana.
Luciana
pouted at him, then turned to look at Ana.
“A
goddess?” Her brows shot high. She no doubt noticed the small glow emitting
from Ana’s skin and marked her as one from Otherworld. Her lips twisted in a
sneer. “I thought you Celtic gods never left your cold realm.”
She’d
be right, Ana thought bitterly. Cold and emotionless, that was Otherworld, and
she was trapped there except for a few times a year when she could sneak out
without the other gods noticing. But that’s what she wanted to change.
“Beat
it, sister,” she said, trying out some earth slang she’d seen on a TV show.
Sneaking a laptop into Otherworld and firing up movies with her magic was one
of the few ways she stayed sane.
The
woman pouted, gave one last longing glance at Camulos, and then moved off into
the crowd.
Camulos
gave her a hard, searching look, his shock now masked. He didn’t make a move to
kill her—which was good. Not that she’d let him. But still, it was promising.
He might have cared for her once, but after what had happened at the end, she
wouldn’t be surprised if that had been pushed out by anger.
“Come
on. Let’s get a seat inside.” He jerked his chin toward the ramshackle bar.
Ana
nodded and turned to lead the way. This time, with the huge male of
indeterminate species following closely behind her, the crowd parted in waves
to let her pass. Camulos was so close on her heels she swore she could feel the
heat of him. It made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. She tried to
ignore it.
The
smell of sweat and stale beer assaulted her nose when she walked into the bar.
It was even more crowded than the outside, with dozens of volatile Mytheans partying
and fighting in the dark, smoky space lit only by bare, dangling light bulbs.
She
blinked. Wow. This was so different from Otherworld. Gross, definitely, from
the smell to the cleanliness of the occupants.
But
it was great. It was nothing like Otherworld, and she loved it. There was one
small unoccupied table in the corner, but it was far enough from the main crowd
to suit her.
They
hadn’t so much as settled at the table when a beer appeared in front of
Camulos, carried by a smiling waitress whose eyes didn’t stray from him. He
ignored it and spared her only a curt nod.
“How
the hell did you find me?” he asked when the waitress slunk away.
His
rough voice sent a shiver down her spine. That first tingle of attraction
hadn’t been a fluke, after all. Damn it. This was what had gotten her in
trouble so many years ago. Insane attraction that had blinded her to the danger
she’d stepped into.
She
dragged her mind back to the present. “More importantly, how the hell are you
still alive? I thought I killed you.”
His
big hand clenched on the table. Scars sliced across his knuckles.
She
tried not to squirm in her seat as his eyes roamed from her face down to the
hint of cleavage she knew peeped above the top of her leather breastplate. She
always wore it, but then she spent most of her time in temperate Otherworld or
Scotland. It was damn hot in the jungle.
Finally,
his gaze dragged back to hers. The sight hit her straight in the solar plexus.
Damn, he looked good, no matter how wary or how harsh his gaze. His short
reddish-blond hair glinted in the dim light that struggled to illuminate the
seedy bar with its sticky seats. He still looked like a damn god, no matter
what he’d turned into.
“You
didn’t kill me,” he said, one corner of his mouth hiked up.
“Then
what the hell are you? How are you immortal?”
“Why
would I tell you that?”
So it
was going to be this way? A game of chance where neither showed their cards?
But it suited her too, since she had no idea how she felt about him. She glared
at him as a Jurassic-sized fly buzzed around her head, as annoying as the
questions hanging in the air between them. She still didn’t fully understand
everything that had happened those many years ago when she’d taken his place as
a god by sending an arrow through his heart. Twice. She flinched at the mental
image that came with the thought—him dying in the snow, his blood soaking
through the knees of her dress.
“Aren’t
you afraid of me?” he asked.
“Nope.”
If she was going to be afraid of anyone, it would be him—with his huge body,
scowling face, and potentially deadly grudge against her. But she wasn’t. She
could take care of herself, damn it. Being afraid was a thing of the past.
“Cocky.”
“Yep.”
She wasn’t the same girl he’d once cared for, however briefly. After they’d gotten
caught in the crosshairs of the gods and her whole life had gone to hell, she’d
changed.
“Anyway,
it worked out for the best.” He raised his smudged glass in toast to her.
“Really?”
Her brows shot up. He truly thought their past—trading places so that she
became a god and he went to earth—had worked out for the best?
He
nodded, but she had a hard time believing him.
“Why?
You should have loved Otherworld. You’re a god,” she said.
“Not
anymore.”
“Yeah,
but you get what I mean,” she said. “Otherworld, the coldness there, shouldn’t
have bothered you since you were born a god. The power, the perfection. It was
all yours. Without all the downsides.”
Like
the soul-sucking loneliness of a place with no emotion. No one could care about
anyone else. She was a fluke, a god with the ability to feel because she’d once
been mortal. But there was nothing to feel there. No joy, no love, no fun. No
way to distract herself from the misery of being trapped. All the other gods,
they were perfect for it. Automatons in their impeccable world. But not her.
“So
why would it be better for you on earth?” she asked when he didn’t respond. He
had less power here and had to hide from the other gods. And earth was messy
and miserable compared to Otherworld. But it was that ability to be miserable,
and alternately joyful, which made her want to return. “There’s nothing for you
here.”
His
gray eyes darkened, his expression effectively closing the subject. “That’s my
business, not yours. Why the hell are you here?”
“I want out.”
“Are
you kidding? Do you know what will happen to you when the other gods figure out
you’ve tried to run?”
What
was it about his voice that made her want to squirm in her seat? The mixed
accent from his long life sounded exotic somehow and a hint of roughness
dragged across her skin.
She
shivered. “I’ve snuck out before.”
“For
a few hours maybe, and not with the intent to flee.” He nodded smugly and she
knew he must see acknowledgment in her eyes. “When they figure out that you’re
gone and don’t intend to come back, you’ll end up chained to the most desolate
tor in Blackmoor for a thousand years while ravens circle for dinner.”
Ana
swallowed hard. The knowledge of the great rock formations where lawbreakers
were punished was something she’d tried not to focus on when she’d decided to
run. Blackmoor was the most desolate place in Otherworld, all scrubby ground
punched through with granite tors and howling wind and rain. She had about a
day before the other gods figured out she was gone. At that point, she’d be considered
a deserter and they’d hunt her down.
“I’m
aware of the risks.” She tried to make her voice hard. “I want out.”
“What
the hell do you expect me to do about it?”
“You
cared for me once.” She didn’t want to play that card—not after how it had
ended between them—but she was desperate.
Truth
flashed in his eyes, then his jaw hardened. “It was a long time ago.”
It
had been. But seeing him was dredging up emotions she’d forgotten she’d ever
had. She tried to force them to the back of her mind and focus on her goal. “I
want to know how you became mortal.”
“Not
mortal.”
“Damn
it, you know what I mean. I just don’t want to be a god anymore. You stole my
life when your obsession with me attracted the attention of the other gods. I
want my life back.”
“I
don’t owe you a thing.” He raised his glass and his strong throat worked as he
swallowed, drawing her eyes to it. She couldn’t help but notice the way his
worn shirt stretched over his broad chest. She scowled at her own interest.
Long ago, that same interest had gotten her into trouble.
“Fine.
I’ll just have to convince you,” she said.
He
didn’t respond, just smiled and folded his muscled arms over his chest. She
sighed, then tensed when he swung his feet up onto the chair next to her.
Her
breath caught in her throat. She could almost feel the heat of his thighs close
to hers. Her leg tingled, her skin prickling. Something low in her stomach
tightened, and it reminded her that this was one of the reasons she wanted to
be back on earth.
Fates,
her nerves were on edge, and he wasn’t helping matters. She’d spent nearly
every day of the last two millennia in Otherworld—the dullest, loneliest place
in all of creation. As much as she loved the hustle and bustle of the Mytheans
and mortals on earth, there was way too much of it in this bar. Her senses were
on overdrive, and the air fairly buzzed with emotion from the dozens of
volatile Mytheans carousing around her.
She
swallowed hard and met his eyes. His smile reappeared, as if he knew what was
going on inside her head. Inside her body.
“I
need some air.” She jumped to her feet. “Come on.”
About
the Author
Linsey Hall is
the author of the Mythean Arcana, a sexy paranormal romance series. Before
becoming a romance novelist, Linsey was an underwater archaeologist who studied
shipwrecks in all kinds of water, from the tropics to muddy rivers (and she has
a distinct preference for one over the other). Her books draw upon her love of
history, travel, and the paranormal elements that she can't help but include.
Several of her
books may or may not feature her cats.
Tour giveaway
$25 Amazon gift
card
Thanks for this awesome giveaway!!
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