Twenty years working in tech is done. I made the decision to be a full time author this month. The sense of freedom is hard to put into words. And yes, of course I still have a job because writing is in fact a job, but there is joy in it. Leaving corporate America behind is a weight off my soul. I owe thanks to each and every one of you who offered a kind word and supported my work over these past six years of writing. Thank you! Here’s to a great many more adventures.
As Nixie struggles to unite the water witches, the Fae king discovers a spy in his ranks. We’re forced to split our focus and our powers between the unrest in Faerie and the rising tensions in Falias. When Nudd’s latest gambit puts humanity’s most dangerous weapons into his hands, we can’t let anything stand in our way. We’ll need help from new contacts and trusted allies if we hope to stop the Fae king’s madness.
An Important Note About Kindle Unlimited
I suppose we all have a tale of warning. A holiday feast gone wrong, a family misstep, the last time you were allowed into that one restaurant you’ll never speak of again. Allow me to regale you with the ultimate warning of that seasonal villain known as … glitter.
It was a cold night when I found a fantastic template for Star Wars paper snowflakes. I downloaded them and printed a dozen patterns and dulled twice as many hobby knives cutting them out. One of them was Darth Vader. The snowflake looked great with six Vader heads in a spiffy symmetrical circle.
You know what I thought would make it better?
Shiny Vader heads hanging from the banister when our guests arrived for the holidays. I stood in Michaels—a craft store for those of you that don’t have one—about fifteen minutes later. Less than an hour and I returned home with a jar of glitter and aerosol glue. Spray on glue, who knew?
I’m guessing the devil knew.
I painstakingly arranged the Vader snowflake on a piece of cardboard and took it into the front yard. I didn’t want to make a mess, after all. Thoroughly doused in glue, I carried the snowflake back to our dining room table.
The glitter went on easily enough, until I lifted my hand and realized I’d glued about five pounds of glitter to my own flesh. Thank you, aerosol glue. I shook my hand, smacked the open jar of glitter, and spilled it all over the snowflake. I snatched the jar up as though that may stem the tsunami of glitter, but glitter encrusted hands are slippery.
I dropped the jar, and it exploded. It didn’t spill; it EXPLODED INTO A GLITTERY CLOUD. I may have said a few words—a lot of words—I won’t repeat here. I tried to carry the drowned snowflake outside to brush it off, only to drop the board and send a wave of glitter across the kitchen floor.
You know what aerosol glue does? It sticks to everything. EVERYTHING. I spent a damned hour scraping that crap off the floor and the chairs and the stools. The next morning our porch looked like a black disco ball. Oh, aerosol glue holds glitter on the door too. Even the doorknob had a nice layer of shiny black crap on it.
Be safe out there.
Say no to glitter. Unless it’s for Carrie.
May the 4th be with you.
Originally posted on FangFreakinTasticReviews
Witch Queen’s War is now available on Audible! Grab the seventh book of the Vesik series, narrated by William Dufris.
There’s a turning point in every war, but I didn’t expect this one to be in my front yard. Allies of the Fae king have moved against the military stationed in Saint Charles. Our unsteady alliances are threatening to fracture, providing the water witches and vampires an opportunity to strike.
With losses on both sides, things are far more dire than we realized, and the return of a long-forgotten enemy has made that clear. Thankfully, I know a very grumpy parrot.
Much has been lost in the conflict with the Fae king and his allies, a conflict we hadn’t known we were in until one of our own fell at his hand. And while a great Seal between realms may have been rebuilt, dark things slipped through in the chaos, creatures who would overrun this world.
Our allies are many. Our enemies are terrible. And someone ate my last chimichanga despite the fact I had clearly marked it with a note that said it was mine.
Praise for Rattle the Bones:
“Just when you think he can’t, HE DOES! This is number six in the Vesik series, and as impossible as it sounds, this series just keeps getting better. With the resolution of a major story line in the first 5 books, I worried that we’d be left hanging with no new drama. Silly me! Once again Eric Asher has reached into his warded chest and pulled out a new story line and new characters that captivate you. What can I say about William Dufris other than he breathes life into these characters to the point that when you READ the books, you hear HIS voice. Another great collaboration, eagerly awaiting #7!” – Audible Review
“Eric Asher has the ability to not only world build (as seen in this series and everything he writes) but more importantly he takes time to build his characters. You really care about Vesik, Zola, Sam all the characters are full not two dimensional. He can go from serious to silly and back again. You finish the book not only wanting more but missing the characters. Everyone matters.” – Amazon Review
There’s a turning point in every war, but I didn’t expect this one to be in my front yard. Allies of the Fae king have moved against the military stationed in Saint Charles. Our unsteady alliances are threatening to fracture, providing the water witches and vampires an opportunity to strike. With losses on both sides, things are far more dire than we realized, and the return of a long-forgotten enemy has made that clear. Thankfully, I know a very grumpy parrot.
Streets filled with fear and terror and blood. This wasn’t what our home was supposed to be. No matter how close war had come before, no matter what we’d fought on the streets of Saint Charles, we’d always managed to keep the commoners safe.
The tourists weren’t the only beings in danger here. The military had seen too many Fae, too many things they didn’t understand. Now they were targeting our allies, and in that action, they were targeting their own allies. They’d set their sights on the Fae who stood with the commoners.
I raised my hand in a useless protest, too far away to reach anyone in time.
The tank fired.
Flames and death and smoke screamed from the barrel of that awful weapon. Aeros raised his fists, and a u-shaped wall of stone sprang up between him and the shell. The wall cracked in the following explosion, sending waves of shrapnel and debris into the air. Angus had barely escaped, grabbing two of the kids who had been too close to the line of fire, and launching into the air with them.
One of the kids he’d had to leave behind screamed and went down, clutching his leg. Aeros glanced at the child, then turned back to face the tank. The Old God dropped into the earth, vanishing into a circle of green light. The tank adjusted its aim, centering on the wall.
The next shot might take the wall of stone, but it was going to kill the half dozen people sheltering behind it too. If they thought firing on the wall would hurt Aeros, they were wrong.
“No!” I shouted, sprinting forward. If I could get close enough, raise a shield, do something. I wasn’t that fast. No one was that fast. “Run!”
Angus dove back into the panicked crowd.
A loud thunk sounded from the tank, the same sound I’d heard before the first shot. I wasn’t going to make it to them in time. Where the fuck was Aeros?
He answered with a fury, rising beneath the tank. One stony fist grabbed the barrel and bent it toward the ground before Aeros flipped the tank over and slammed it into the earth. Stone flowed over the armored metal shell, and the tank screeched as Aeros tore it apart.
“They are children!” the Old God roared. “My stone will bear your names for all time, and the world shall call you monsters.”
“Aeros, no!” I shouted.
He paused with his fist raised above the exposed soldiers, his eyes flashing between me and the terrified men below him.
“Don’t kill them,” I said.
“He’s dead!” A voice screamed, cracking and rising into hysteria. I turned to see a child tugging at the arm of an older man. The child’s wails were the endless, undefined cries of a survivor. There are the cries of grief, and then there are the primal chords of loss no person can put into words. These were the hiccupping, terrible sobs of lives broken, and a world that would never be the same.
“Murderers.” Aeros turned away from the soldiers and looked down at me. “They should be held accountable. Would you not slay them if they were Fae or vampire?” He walked back toward the screaming boy.
I stepped up onto the flattened edge of the tank. “Okay, look, that’s a big talking rock who wants to kill you now. Congratulations on pulling that off. You also just murdered someone’s grandfather, so fuck you very much. Now …” I called on the dead things around me, let the decayed ruin of the gravemakers flow up from the earth to coat my arms and chest. “I suggest you get your tanks the fuck out of here before I decide to let my friend flatten you like tin cans.”
The nearest soldier’s hand reached for his sidearm. All he found was a mangled strip of metal.
I let the gravemaker chaff close over my head. “Draw that gun, and I’ll eat your soul.”
The man next to him had a smarter approach. He placed his hand on his companion’s arm, preventing any further attempts to draw his weapon. When the first man tried to protest again, the smart one grew more forceful.
“Stop it. Don’t you see the thing standing in front of us? Do you want to hug your family again, or you want to die here?”
The man with the gun stopped fidgeting. I backed away, letting them climb out of the ruined tank. The wails of the child behind me cut through the silence of the men before me.
“Never forget that sound.” I turned away at that point, not wanting to see what the men would do. Or maybe I just didn’t care anymore. How had it come to this in just five days?
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