Witch’s
Rule
The
Witch Chronicles
Book
3
Ann
Gimpel
Publisher:
Taliesin
Release
Date: 11/7/14
Available
for pre-order mid-October
Genre:
Dark Paranormal Romance
Jenna
falls in love with two very different men. Standing on the verge of
Earth’s destruction, will she defy convention and follow the song
in her heart?
Book
Description:
Jenna’s
a special witch, sort of, when her magic works, which it often
doesn’t. One of three remaining demon-stalkers, she and her sister
witches, Roz and Colleen, are Earth’s only hedge against being
overrun by Hell’s minions. On the heels of Roz’s and Colleen’s
weddings, Jenna is headed for the U.K. when a demon confronts her.
Any other witch could teleport out of the plane, but not her.
Frustration about her limited power eats at her. It would be pretty
pathetic to get killed for lack of skills a teenager could master.
Tristan
is a Sidhe warrior, but his primary gift is attunement to others’
emotions. He fell hard for Jenna, but hasn’t had an opportunity to
act on their attraction beyond a few kisses because she returned to
Alaska, and he’s been in the field fighting demons.
As
seer for the Sidhe, Kiernan is haunted by visions, particularly an
apocalyptic sending that seems to be coming true. A confirmed
bachelor, he doesn’t understand his attraction to Jenna, but it’s
so strong he can’t fight it, and after a while, he doesn’t even
try, despite recognizing Tristan’s claim to her.
Startling
truths surface about Jenna’s magic, and then there’s the problem
that she’s falling in love with two very different men. At first
she believes she has to pick one of them, but her spirit refuses to
walk away from either. It’s impossible to choose between a seer
with dreams in his eyes and a beautiful man who intuits her every
need. Standing on the verge of Earth’s destruction, will she defy
convention and follow the song in her heart?
Excerpt:
…Her
thoughts turned to Tristan. Before getting snared in all the
demon-muck with the minion in the plane, she’d been hoping the
tawny-haired Sidhe would be part of the greeting party at the
airport. There were lots of possible reasons he might not have met
her, but the most likely was he wasn’t interested in her—at least
not that way.
Oh
give it a rest. It’s not like he’s so much as called or e-mailed
in the weeks since I left the U.K. I’ll just embarrass myself—and
look pathetic—if I ask after him.
Ronin
had said something about Tristan being assigned to one of the
garrisons dealing with the Irichna who’d been running rampant
through the U.K. countryside. There was at least a slender chance he
couldn’t just drop everything and show up to greet her. Worse,
maybe he’d been forced into the Dreaming by a demon. Sidhe were
immortal, but they could be compelled to leave the human world if
they were injured badly enough.
The
Rolls slowed at the carved, wrought-iron gates to Ronin’s estate.
Magic flashed, and they swung slowly inward. “It’s just past
ten,” Colleen said. “What’s scheduled for tonight?”
“Nothing
in particular, but we do need to talk,” Ronin said.
“More
to the point,” Jenna spoke up, “what ground did you cover before
I got here? Is there anything I need to catch up on?”
“Oh,
that’s right.” Colleen turned toward her and cocked her head to
one side. Like Roz, she was dressed in a fleece jacket, jeans, and
lace-up boots. Far more practical clothing than Jenna’s short
skirt, high-heeled boots, and inadequate jacket. “You told us your
problems, but we didn’t share ours.”
A
cold fist of fear closed over Jenna’s stomach and squeezed hard.
“I’m not sure I want to know, but what happened?”
“Well,
we got here okay,” Roz answered. “Not here, exactly. We came out
above the Sidhe armory, closer to the center of town.”
“Thought
we’d pick up a few Seraph blades,” Duncan noted. “Since we
can’t handle iron like you witches, the blades come in handy
fighting Irichna.”
Jenna
cracked her knuckles in frustration. “Yes, but what happened?”
“What
else?” Colleen made a sour face. “Irichna.”
“How
they figured out where we’d materialize will remain one of the
mysteries,” Roz mumbled. Even though her words were casual, Jenna
picked up a hint of fear beneath them. She shook her head to clear an
almost paralyzing fog from creeping in. What she’d been afraid
of—that the Irichna employed minions to spy on them—was looking
more and more real.
“How
many?” she asked, her throat so dry it was hard to get the words
out.
“Fortunately,
only three, but they didn’t exactly lie down and cooperate,”
Ronin said. He focused his next words at the driver. “Just drop the
lot of us off at the main house, Kiernan. It’s probably best if we
hash out a plan before everyone turns in for the night.”
“Long
story short,” Colleen picked up Roz’s tale, “it took until just
before we met up with the car and Kiernan to neutralize the demons
and ferry two of them to the Ninth Circle of Hell. Ronin and Duncan
annihilated the third one. We never did get into the armory to pick
up blades for the men.”
“Does
that mean the U.K. problem is solved?” Jenna asked.
“Probably
not,” Duncan replied. “There are always more of those blasted
buggers, no matter what we do.”
“And
they show up in different forms,” Ronin added, “which makes it
tough to know if these were the ones causing all the problems.”
“It’s
not as if they’re a static population,” Roz said. “We’ve
never been able to estimate their numbers.”
“Isn’t
that the truth,” Jenna groused as the car rolled to a stop in front
of Ronin’s home that looked more like a castle than anything else.
Built from interlocking flagstones and huge beams of lumber, it
soared five floors. Light glowed from leaded glass panes, adding a
welcoming touch. Even though it was night and she couldn’t see the
grounds, Jenna remembered them to be immaculate. Sidhe didn’t
employ many servants. Most of the day-to-day tasks were accomplished
with magic. She snorted inwardly. Maybe she could pick up a few
housekeeping tips, along with whatever else the Sidhe taught her.
She
exited the car behind Roz, and a thought struck her. “Aw, hell.”
“What?”
Roz’s hands flew upward to draw power.
“Nothing
like that,” Jenna said. “My luggage. It’s still at the
airport.”
“No
worries.” Ronin walked to Roz and draped an arm over her shoulders.
“I’ll send someone round to fetch it.”
“You’ll
have way more than us,” Colleen pointed out, “since we
teleported.” She leaned toward Duncan and gave him a kiss.
Jenna
glanced from one couple to the other and hoped to hell no one picked
up on the emotions running through her. She was happy for her
friends. Duncan and Ronin were amazing men, but the surfeit of
connubial bliss underscored just how alone she was. Earlier she’d
told Roz and Colleen to hurry up and produce a child or two so she
could settle in as a maiden auntie and spoil them shamelessly, but
nothing like that was likely to happen anytime soon. Not until they
got the demons on the run.
Niall
surged to her side, along with Krae and Llyr. The changeling swept
unkempt black hair out of his dark eyes and caught hold of her arm.
“Don’t paint the devil on the wall.”
“Huh?
When did you start reading minds?”
“I’ve
always been able to, and Krae showed me an easier way where I don’t
have to use hardly any of my own power.”
“Really?”
Jenna stopped at the top of a dozen broad stone steps and glanced at
the changeling. “How?”
He
grinned like an imp. “Simple. I borrow yours.”
“Thanks.
It’s not polite to help yourself to people’s thoughts, though, or
their magic.”
“Maybe
not polite,” Niall’s grin widened, “but very interesting.”
“Humph.”
Jenna pushed on the ten foot tall oak door carved with runic symbols.
At first it didn’t budge, but the air brightened around her hand,
and then the door swung open. Someone, likely Ronin, had done
something to countermand the warding protecting his home.
Kiernan
shimmered into being in the great hall. Jenna drew back and blinked
in surprise. He’d obviously teleported from the driveway, but she
wasn’t used to squandering power so casually. Something drew her
gaze upward; by the time she realized it was Kiernan’s magic, she
was looking into his blue-green eyes. They were cool, laced with
mystery, but fire smoldered in their depths, as if in challenge. When
she tried to look away, she couldn’t. Jenna drew herself up and
squared her shoulders, but the Sidhe was still taller than her by a
good few inches. “Don’t force me,” she sputtered. “If you
want something, ask first.”
“I’ll
keep it in mind, witch.” With a cross between a smile and a smirk,
he turned and trotted into a broad, furnished hallway that ran much
of the length of the downstairs. Snug black pants fit like a second
skin, outlining a high, tight ass. A faded, gray T-shirt strained
across his heavily-muscled back and arms. He was built like an
ancient Viking warrior with shoulders so broad she could almost
imagine him at the helm of a warship, shaking his fist into the teeth
of a shrieking tempest. Unlike Duncan and Ronin, who kept their hair
long enough to braid, Kiernan’s black locks were close-cropped,
which emphasized his angular cheekbones and strong, clean-shaven jaw.
Breath caught in Jenna’s throat, and her belly tightened with a
rush of sexual energy.
Because
she couldn’t tear her gaze away, she stared after the Sidhe. Coaxed
by magic, lights flared on when he passed, and an assortment of plush
leather furniture in earth tones came into view. Occasional tables
laden with antique sculptures, cut crystal lamps, and other artistic
pieces were scattered about. Jenna took a deep breath to ease the
tingling in her nipples and then another, hoping her face wasn’t as
flushed as it usually got when she was turned on. To divert herself,
she spun in a circle, taking in grandeur museums would have gone
rounds to own. “Where do you want us?” she asked Ronin.
“Back
study,” he said as he and Roz swept past, followed by Colleen and
Duncan. “It’s cozier, and we’re a small group.”
“Oh-oh.”
Niall nudged her. “Better watch it. I felt that flash of energy
from twenty paces.” Jenna stuck her tongue out at him, and he
reached back to pinch her, edging out of the way before she could
slap his fingers.
A
swoosh of power behind her sent her heart into overdrive. She
twirled, ready to shout at Colleen and Roz to come back and help, but
the words died on her lips. Kiernan stood there beaming like a
Cheshire cat. Despite the smile, he looked arrogant and dangerous,
with a raw sexuality that practically held a life of its own. Breath
clattered from her lungs. “But you were ahead of me,” she
stammered. “Up there.” She pointed behind her and felt like an
idiot.
“Observant
of you.” He closed the distance between them until he stood scant
inches away. The heat of his body eddied toward her, and it took all
her willpower not to throw her arms around him and drag his mouth
down onto hers.
“Do,
er, did you want something?” Her voice came out high and squeaky,
and she coughed to cover her discomfiture. As if she were drawn by
invisible puppet strings, Jenna leaned toward him, so close her
breasts brushed his chest, and her breath hitched uncomfortably. She
clasped her hands behind her to reduce the temptation to touch him.
“I
want many things, but most of all I want to get to know you better.”
He ran a finger down her cheek, leaving a trail of iridescent motes
that floated before her eyes. “Once we’re in with the others,
there wouldn’t have been an opportunity to tell you that.”
She
opened her mouth to say something, anything, to break the sexual
tension that overshadowed common sense, but he dissolved into
nothingness, and she was left blinking at the afterimage of where
he’d stood. Jenna breathed deep to settle herself. If she was going
to spend hours training with Kiernan, she had to get her libido under
control, and damned fast. Otherwise she’d be so addle-brained she
wouldn’t learn a thing.
About
the Author:
Ann
Gimpel is a mountaineer at heart. Recently retired from a long career
as a psychologist, she remembers many hours at her desk where her
body may have been stuck inside four walls, but her soul was planning
yet one more trip to the backcountry. Around the turn of the last
century (that would be 2000, not 1900!), she managed to finagle
moving to the Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the
mountains. It was during long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing
evolved. Unlike some who see the backcountry as an excuse to drag
friends and relatives along, Ann prefers solitude. Stories always ran
around in her head on those journeys, sometimes as a hedge against
abject terror when challenging conditions made her fear for her life,
sometimes for company. Eventually, she returned from a trip and sat
down at the computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel
emerged. Oh, it wasn’t very good, but it was a beginning. And, she
learned a lot between writing that novel and its sequel.
Around
that time, a friend of hers suggested she try her hand at short
stories. It didn’t take long before that first story found its way
into print and they’ve been accepted pretty regularly since then.
One of Ann’s passions has always been ecology, so her tales often
have a green twist.
In
addition to writing, Ann enjoys wilderness photography. She lugs
pounds of camera equipment in her backpack to distant locales every
year. A standing joke is that over ten percent of her pack weight is
camera gear which means someone else has to carry the food! That
someone is her husband. They’ve shared a life together for a very
long time. Children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out
their family.
@AnnGimpel
(for Twitter)
Sister Sinister's Review of The Witch Chronicles
* * * * *
I was given the chance to read to review the first 3 books in this series as a part of the blog tour for the upcoming release of book 3, "Witch's Rule", and I'm giving it an overall 5 Stars!
In Book 1 "Witch's Bounty", Colleen is a witch. A demon-hunting witch to be precise. It runs in her blood and she is one of the last of her kind, a barrier between them and us. Along with her two fellow demon stalking witches, Roz and Jenna, the women run a magic shop in Alaska where not much happens. Oh, and let us not forgot the really awesome familiar she has bound to her - a gnomish changeling spirit named Bubba. He doesn't like to wear clothes, he can change into a cat, and if you don't find yourself snickering at his antics, then your funny bone needs some help!
Life seems to be swell, though Colleen does worry that without heirs to carry on the bloodline, the demon hunters will die out. But that is for another day, as a frantic Roz pleads for her friend to join her in the states to take on a demon. As luck, or fate, would have it, the walking Sidhe hotty, Duncan, strides into her shop, and her life.
With this series, we get to enjoy the stories of these three witches as they find trouble and Sidhe love, with Roz being featured in book 2 "Witch's Bane", and Jenna in the shortly to be released book 3 "Witch's Rule".
Nice action, lovely Celtic lore, passion, demons, doubt, fire and creatures of myth and legend, this spellbinding series will ensnare you.
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