Changeling’s
Crown
Juli
D. Revezzo
Genre:
upper YA/New Adult paranormal romance
Publisher:
Raven Queen Publications
Date
of Publication: June 2014
ISBN:
978-1499390193
ASIN:
B00KPJ27UW
Number
of pages: 190
Word
Count: 46,500
Book
Description:
When
Ianthe began her career as a faery godmother, she stumbled so badly
that Snow White will probably never speak to her again. After a long
suspension, she’s finally been given a chance to redeem herself…but
everything on this latest assignment is going wrong.
But
why?
Worse,
she definitely doesn’t need an attractive mortal man distracting
her from her duties. Of course, needs and wants are two different
things.
Briak
has had his eye on Ianthe for a very, very long time, but he’s been
waiting for just the right moment to make his move. Despite the fact
all hell’s about to break loose on his watch, he can’t resist the
opportunity to insert himself into her earthly assignment. Can he
convince Ianthe of her true calling and thereby win her heart? Or
will his subterfuge ultimately cost him her love?
Excerpt:
Sunlight
filtered into the office, tinkling musically as it bounced off a
globe standing to the far side of the room. A lone dust mote floated
through the air to fall onto the crystalline floorboards and as it
hit, Ianthe Hypericum cringed when she heard it clack against the
floor, like the tinny clap of an iron breakfast bell. Normally the
sound didn’t bother her. Normally she found it lovely.
Not
today.
Nervous
sweat ran down Ianthe’s back as she awaited her latest assignment.
Maybe the Faery Godmother High Council hadn’t changed their
decision. Maybe Ms. Siabelle had called her in to revoke her wand for
good.
Why
wouldn’t she? After all, so many of her recent assignments had
ended in disaster. The High Council frowned upon her performance even
before Snow White’s daughter had run off with that traveling band
of thieves. Ianthe still couldn’t quite figure out how it had
happened. She’d spent nearly fourteen hundred years on probation
for it. How it hadn’t driven her crazy enough to join those in the
dark side of the groves, she had no idea. It’d been a close call.
Some
faery godmother she’d turned out to be! She didn’t want to think
what might happen if she blew another assignment. They’d turn her
out, maybe send her to the shoemaker’s shop as punishment, and she
didn’t want that. Everyone knew the shoemaker’s shop was a
dungeon compared to the human world.
What
a disgrace for her family, if the council banished her there! They
were having a hard enough time, socially, dealing with her failure
with the Snow White family. Banishment would undo them. She had to
succeed at this assignment, she just had to!
The
door opened and an older woman, wearing a gray Armani suit, stepped
through.
Ianthe
stood and curtseyed, her lilac taffeta skirt rustling. “Good
morning, Ms. Siabelle.”
The
old woman pushed her glasses up her pert nose with a thick finger.
“Ah, Ianthe. I see you’re on time, for once.” She scuttled
around the huge oak desk like an overweight crab.
Ianthe
folded her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers as she waited for
her boss to settle down.
“I
trust all is well.”
“Yes,
ma’am,” she said. “The Smith-Weiss affair’s all cleaned up.”
“They’re
happy, then?” Ms. Siabelle asked.
Ianthe
bit her lip. Hard. No, she wouldn’t say the couple was happy. Not
unless the faery godparent council had changed its definition of
single parent households. Still, she made her report on her latest
assignment. “The couple is—April is…Chuck will be—” She
blew out a deep breath. “They’ll get there. Plenty of babies grow
up without their fathers. It’s for the best.”
“Is
it?”
“April
Smith and Charles Weiss weren’t made for each other, no matter how
much we wish it.” She frowned at the old faery godmother. “You
knew there were problems going into that assignment.”
Ms.
Siabelle remained quiet in the face of Ianthe’s accusation. She
twitched the platinum chain on her glasses and turned her attention
to her computer. “Yes, well, that isn’t the issue today.”
Adjusting her glasses to her liking, she turned her head, gaze
softening as she peered at Ianthe.
Ianthe
could feel a million tiny lightning bolts trying to find their way
into her heart. She could barely breathe under the elderly overseer’s
gaze and she begged the faery gods to be on her side, just this once.
Ms.
Siabelle cleared her throat.
Here
it came. Ianthe tried not to cringe.
“The
Faery Godparent High Council has decided to give you another chance,
child.”
She
blinked. “Say that again?” Unbelievable!
“I
said we’ve decided in your favor.” Ms. Siabelle turned in her
chair, and standing, crossed the room to a tall filing cabinet.
Batting away a stray sunbeam, she wrapped old fingers around the
silver handle gracing the top drawer, tugged it open, and drew a
finger in the air above the files. They flipped by themselves, one
after another, as if she pulled them. But she held her finger too
high. “If the couple can’t make a go of it even after what you’ve
done, it’s not your fault.”
“I
did try.”
“I
told the council so. Ah, here we are.” She stepped back as one file
slid free. It spun in the air before her a moment, then Ms. Siabelle
reached out and took hold of the thin folder. Ianthe wrung her hands
as Ms. Siabelle sat back down and began to read. “Hmm... It says
here that you’re to be assigned to a young man.” Her brow rose.
“And his soon-to-be ex-wife.”
Ianthe
sat up straighter. A divorce? Oh, no. More battles over the children.
She found being saddled with the choice of which parent would be best
heartbreaking. “Surely you must be mistaken. Isn’t there some
forlorn lover I can look after instead?” This guy was probably as
ugly as the frog prince, while the wife, well… she’d met some
doozies!
“No,
the assignment is quite clear. You’re to assist Randall and Mallory
Davies.” Ms. Siabelle shut the gleaming folder and folded her hands
atop it. “According to their files, it’s a clear case. Randall’s
not sure he wants the divorce and Mallory—well, I don’t see why
she couldn’t be persuaded to drop the case. Should be a piece of
cake, as they say down there.”
She’d
said that about Snow White’s daughter, but Ianthe thought better of
reminding her. “I’m not sure.”
“Are
you saying you don’t want the assignment, my dear? I thought you
hoped for a chance to get your wand and title back.” Her nose
twitched. “And everything else that goes with it. Coaches and ball
gowns and such.”
All
of which had gone out of style with the age of classic faery tales.
Right now, Ianthe didn’t feel like contradicting her. “I do,
ma’am. It’s just that—”
“Good.
I’ll see the paperwork’s sent through; meanwhile—” She
wiggled her finger over the file and it rose from the desktop,
floating like a bird into Ianthe’s less than eager hands. “Why
don’t you get started?” She shook her head sadly. “Seems
Randall and Mallory are in dire need of a happy ending, as you’ll
see.”
Ianthe
sighed. The pages flipped open before her, and she took in the
photographs. Randall, his employees. One stood out: a man with a
handsome angular face, tousled brown hair, and deep, coffee-colored
eyes.
She
leaned forward to study the picture, wondering who he was. Too
handsome to ignore, she thought. Was he the reason for the couple’s
troubles? She could see that being the case.
Maybe
this assignment wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.
She
shoved the file into her oversized purse and exited the office to
take to the hall, a renewed confidence in her gait. She could do
this. Surely, she would finally live down that fiasco of an
assignment with Snow White’s daughter. Maybe it would even garner
her a promotion. Full Godmotherhood!
Dare
she dream?
She
was already daydreaming for she plowed right into an oncoming faery.
She
blinked at him. Geldon P. Techsmauch.
“I’m
sorry, Geldon. I didn’t see you,” she said.
Son
of a goblin, how she hated him! She stepped back, hoping to escape
him as soon as possible.
“Why
don’t you watch where you’re going?” he snarled.
When
she stepped around him he planted his right hand against the wall,
blocking her escape. “Where do you think you’re rushing off to in
such a hurry?” he asked. “You can’t have a princess awaiting
you. You’re on probation after all. Or are you late for a class?
Beginning wand construction one-oh-one?”
How’m
I supposed to go anywhere with you in my way, you horsefly’s butt?
What was he doing, besides being a nuisance? “I said I’m sorry.”
She tried not to snarl back, but it was hard. She tapped a finger to
her lips. “Didn’t I hear you just came back from Desire Island?
How’d that go?”
His
mud brown eyes narrowed. “You heard wrong. It was Devil’s
Island.”
“Ah.”
She nodded. “My mistake.”
“Yes,
you make many.” He turned on his heel. “So, I see you have more
studying to do. Good luck with it, Hypericum. You’ll need it.”
Ianthe’s
fists clenched and she wanted to stamp her foot against the citrine
floor tiles, but the sound would reverberate through them as if she’d
shattered a glass wall and tell the whole kingdom how angry she was.
The nerve of Techsmauch! He was such an ass! Why did he constantly
make her life a living hell? She didn’t want to run the risk of
meeting up with him again tonight. So she turned back the way she’d
come. She’d take the sub-elevators down to the Earth level if she
had to in order to avoid facing him again.
A
wrinkly, gray skinned goblin met her at the elevator and beckoned her
inside. It was stuffed full of trolls. Many smelled as if they needed
a nice, long bath. No one would ever catch Techsmauch dead in a
sub-elevator so it seemed the best way to avoid him.
She
sniffed once or twice and wrinkled her nose at the smell. The doors
closed and she slowly released her breath. Afraid to inhale, she
wondered how long it would take to reach Earth level. Don’t worry.
We’ll arrive before you pass out from the trolls’ stench. She
hoped.
All
she could think about was the shower she’d take once on Earth.
She’d have to freshen up if she wanted to get close to her
assignment. Troll-stench was known to drive away any and all who came
near. That was no way to begin this assignment.
She
checked her purse, pulling forth the file Ms. Siabelle had given her.
She could swear she’d seen that employee before, but where?
Briak.
The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Was it
possible she had the name incorrect? Maybe the k constituted a typo.
The name niggled in a way she didn’t like, but he looked so kind.
Had she ever helped him? Or someone in his family?
Maybe
I’m mistaken. How many handsome ranch hands were there in Clover
Glen, Florida, after all?
About
the Author:
Juli
D. Revezzo is a Florida girl, with a love of fantasy, science
fiction, and Arthurian legend, so much so she gained a B.A. in
English and American Literature. She loves writing stories with
fantastical elements whether it be a full-on fantasy, or a story set
in this world-slightly askew.
She
has been published in short form in Eternal Haunted Summer, Dark
Things II: Cat Crimes (a charity anthology for cat related
charities), Luna Station Quarterly, Crossing the River, An Anthology
in Honor of Sacred Journeys; The Scribing Ibis: An Anthology of Pagan
Fiction in Honor of Thoth, and Twisted Dreams Magazine. She’s the
author of The Antique Magic series and the Paranormal Romance Harshad
Wars series.
She
is a member of the Independent Author Network and the Magic
Appreciation Tour.
Twitter:
@julidrevezzo
Tour giveaway 2 prize packs containing a 25% off gift certificate and pen for The Wild Rose Press, and signed Raven Queen Publication bookmark, US only.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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