Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Oracle's Current (Oracle #6) by Mell Eight

 

Title:  The Oracle's Current

Series: Oracle, Book Six

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/25/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 18800

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, anthropomorphic, mythical creatures/dragons, magic users, hurt/comfort, royalty

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Description

Lichen grew up dreaming he was going to test into the Earth Caste. But when he walked out of the testing chamber with the brown hair of Earth and the blue eyes of Water, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. Instead of his dream, he tested into the elusive Ether Caste, which made him both a cherished wonder and a pariah. Unable to handle the strange mixture of adoration and abhorrence from his peers, Lichen leaves the Monastery with the hope of finding some sort of happiness.

But, when tragedy strikes the Monastery, Lichen fears he won’t be of much help. He still wants to lend a helping hand, or at least a shoulder to cry on, but the quest the Oracle sends him on instead is much more important—so important, in fact, that dying to ensure the success of his mission is a real possibility.

Excerpt

The Oracle’s Current
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Water was unpredictable, constantly moving and changing. The Oracle knew that all too well. And yet, that fluidity was forever confined. The water balances were the cruelest of all the Castes. Water moved as much as Air, always somewhere different within the next hour, but Air could go anywhere while Water could not.

Earth dictates the flow of water. That was perhaps the worst of the balances. Water fought against it as much as possible, carving and smoothing the earth, but it never broke free. The Oracle’s Water Dragons never broke free.

Until the terrible moment they finally found the only way to escape, and the Oracle was never sure if she ought to rejoice with them or cry for them.

The twins were cherubic the first time she saw them. They were adorable toddlers with blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and wide smiles. To the awe of their parents, she had gently placed her hands on their foreheads, and listened.

The girl child would grow up strong and beautiful. She would be loved by everyone as a child, spoiled in the arms of her adoring fans. She would make people laugh with a smile and brighten a room just by entering it. She was a Water child. Her personality flowed gently like a stream, burbled like a brook, and shined under the warm sunlight.

Then she would test into her Caste and walk out of the testing chamber with the Dragon of Water tattooed across her back. Her hair would turn three different shades of blue, shifting constantly like water continuously moving through a stream. But every stream eventually hit the turbulence of rapids as it flowed over jutting rocks and debris. Her status would eventually lead to a treacherous waterfall and death on the rocks at the bottom. But that was her freedom, her escape, from her restrictions as the Dragon of Water.

Her brother would be a different story. He was shy and happy to allow his sister to take the limelight. He was akin to a small lake tucked into a mountain grove where only the few and privileged could find and enjoy his existence. He would grow up in the shadow of his twin sister, and he would be happy with his lot. Until his testing. His sister would walk out of the testing chambers the Dragon of Water. He would enter the chambers moments later with high expectations, but he would walk out with a uniform blue back and nothing more. Not even a ripple to destroy the endless pool of blue. He would share the same blue hair as his sister, but the similarities would end there.

His tattoo was of the deep sea. It was empty of creatures or landmarks. Only the currents, constantly changing with the tides, graced his back. The Oracle knew of the potential there, that eventually something lost would swim into view and find a home, but no one else did. How could one twin test so highly and the other so poorly? The Masters would ask that question incessantly.

He slipped back into the shadows of his sister’s life and watched as she was destroyed.

The Oracle’s Monastery was sick, her Masters poisoned by greed and power. They wanted things his sister couldn’t give but took those things anyway. A faction of men offered themselves up like geese to the slaughter in the belief that lying with the Dragon of Water would bring them extra prestige in their Castes. If she had their child, their prestige would double. So they heckled her and followed her around. It was the norm. Enough women did the same whenever a man tested extremely high, so no one attempted to help her.

A different, but no less obnoxious, faction believed it was the duty of every strong Caste member to have as many children as they could. A child of the Dragon of Water would no doubt test strongly, as had proven true in the past. They conveniently forgot all the times a child with presumed pedigree did not test well and so continued in their quest to force the Dragon of Water to have as many children as she could.

The Oracle did try to help the twins, but some futures were set in stone, and all she really did was prolong the pain. She sent both twins away on quest after quest, hoping they would find somewhere new to live and not return to the Monastery, like her Hatchling eventually had. But she could see the inevitable future and knew that wouldn’t happen.

And then, one day, the end came. She had been the Dragon of Water for barely five years, but it was five years too many for the poor woman. The Masters found her body at the foot of a high cliff. She had jumped far from the water and ended the constant harassment in the only way the Oracle saw possible. The Dragon of Water died horribly, but at the same time, she was finally free from the responsibility and harassment that had been part of her life from the moment she stepped from the testing chamber.

Her brother had been swimming deep in the ocean, flirting with the whales and the giant jellyfish deep below the surface. He emerged at the beach at a run. He was naked; the deep-sea salt ruined any clothes he wore, so he now swam without. The Oracle had also felt the Dragon of Water’s death and had left the Monastery with her cadre of protective Masters to find the body. The Dragon of Water’s brother arrived at the foot of the cliff just as the Oracle did. He rushed forward to touch his sister, one hand pressing gently against her exposed back. It was one of the few places that wasn’t completely disfigured by the long fall. There was a flash of blue, and the dragon vanished.

He stood and glared at the Masters who surrounded her. “This is your fault,” he snarled at the Master of Tides to her left. “You harassed her endlessly, pestering her until she broke.”

The Oracle hated her Masters in that moment, as the pain in his voice washed over them all. He spun away, heading back to the beach. On his back the image of the deep sea still floated by serenely, but tucked away in the distance she saw where her Dragon of Water slept.

He wouldn’t return to the Monastery for a long time, her new Dragon of Water, but he would return a happier man. She hoped. In the meantime, she would have to do something about the selfish Masters so a different future would be available for the next generation of Dragons. Her Dragons of Earth and Air were working hard to fix the Monastery, but they couldn’t fix everything in so short a time. The Oracle would focus on helping the Dragons that were slowly making a difference, and continue hoping for the best for her new Dragon of Water. Hope was really all she had left for him at this point.

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Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Oracle's Sprite (Oracle #4) by Mell Eight

 

Title:  The Oracle's Sprite

Series: Oracle, Book Four

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/27/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 26100

Genre: Paranormal Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, MM romance, explicit, anthropomorphic, mythical creatures/dragons, magic users, hurt-comfort, soldiers

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Description

Keir became the leader of the opposition army when he was barely eighteen years old. He led the fight against the usurper king from land while Prince Edan and Regent Egan led from the sea. Keir also had hundreds of men at his command and one invisible dragon, nicknamed Sprite, who likes to help out from time to time.

Sprite is friendly and fun-loving, happy to play tricks on Keir’s sister and keep Keir company. When a letter arrives from the Oracle asking for Keir’s presence, he expects Sprite to calmly travel with him. Instead, the strong gale that erupts sends Keir flying overboard and into an adventure he and Sprite might not walk away from alive.

Excerpt

The Oracle’s Sprite
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Keir smelled blood in the air. He knew that scent intimately from growing up with the Captain of the Guard as his father. He had stood at the man’s knee while his father directed the army against the marauding thieves plaguing the people of northern Altnoia. Keir had learned to wield a sword and fire a pistol in training grounds soaked with the blood and sweat of the trainees before him.

It was a scent he was all too familiar with, but he had never before smelled it inside his mother’s home. She insisted that blood belonged on the battlefield and training grounds, not on her fancy rugs. Neither Father nor Keir had ever dared allow even a speck of blood into the house for fear of her wrath.

Keir rolled out of bed and grabbed his muzzleloader out of the nearby cabinet. A fast peek into the hallway showed nothing out of the ordinary. He quickly pulled on sturdy breeches and a shirt, over which he clumsily laced a vest of leather armor. If the scent of blood was only his imagination acting up, Keir didn’t want to scandalize anyone by walking through the halls naked. He tied his sword to his belt, hiking it high because Father had ordered he train with the sword into which he would grow as an adult rather than a child-sized one, and made sure his gun was loaded.

When he opened the door this time, the smell in the hallway was even worse than in his bedroom, which he hadn’t noticed when he’d first glanced out. Keir carefully peeked around the doorway into the hall. A stranger stood in front of his parents’ room at the far end; he hadn’t been there moments before, and Keir didn’t recognize him as one of his father’s men.

“Make sure they’re dead, then hurry,” the man snarled.

Keir lifted his pistol, aimed, and fired. The man fell to the ground in a spray of blood, a hole in his forehead. Blood and death weren’t something Keir shied away from after everything his father had taught him; this didn’t faze him now. Keir ducked back into his room to reload, then poked his head back into the hall. Two men had run out of his parents’ room at the noise and stood there exclaiming over their leader’s death. They hadn’t seen Keir yet, and he killed one of them with another headshot.

It gave away his position, but one-on-one odds were better than trying to take on both of them at once anyway. With no time to reload, he tucked his gun back into its holster and drew his sword. He rushed the lone man and slashed at him. The man clumsily blocked with his own sword; he hadn’t had the training Keir had. After a few more thrusts, Keir impaled the stranger, and he fell to the floor, dead.

Keir hurried to his parents’ room and stopped short in the doorway. He gagged, trying not to vomit even as tears blurred his vision. They were both dead, their necks thoroughly cut in their sleep. Blood stained the bedclothes around their bodies, their eyes closed peacefully, as if they hadn’t even known their death was approaching so swiftly. Keir spun around and forced himself to walk away. He couldn’t do anything for them, but his baby sister might still be alive.

Her room was down the hall in the nursery. Her nurse had no doubt snuck into the kitchen for a bit of fun with the butler once Claire was asleep. Claire still slept in her crib, unknowing of all that had just happened. Keir carefully gathered her into his nondominant arm, just in case he needed to fight again, and hurried from the nursery. He went upward, traveling the many steps to the bell tower. In ringing the bell, he signaled warning and death to everyone within hearing distance. His father’s loyal troops would come, and they would find out who had murdered the Captain of the Guard of Altnoia.

Should the child test anywhere but the Air Caste, his spirit would be crushed. The Oracle knew that without a doubt. The child looked the part prior to his testing. Thin and willowy, it seemed as if his body had been carved slender by the constant gusting of air. His hair was long and pale blond, barely a shade too colorful for someone in the Air Caste. His eyes were the gray of a wind-tossed sky before a storm. A flighty child, he liked to skip while everyone else walked and to hum to himself. He was echoing the flow of air inside the Monastery and giving voice to the sounds the wind carried to him. It made him seem odd to many of his peers, yet those who knew the wind understood the strange child perfectly. The Oracle had him test first, as she did with all children destined for greatness.

He was expected to test highly, given his strong ties with the Air Caste as a child, and he did. The previous Dragon of Air had passed away forty-five years ago; the fact that no new Dragon had arrived to replace her for so very long set an unhappy record. It wasn’t a surprise that when he emerged from the testing chamber, his hair had paled to pure white, and the Dragon of Air was tattooed on his back.

The dragon was formless. His back might have still looked blank if it weren’t for the slightest blurring of the skin as if an invisible wind was forever etched there. The Oracle could see a pair of eyes hidden there, as well as a pair of clear wings attached to a massive body. She knew where to look to find the dragon tattoo, as did the watching Masters.

Her Dragon of Air remained in the Monastery only a short year for training. It was an unhappy time for him, she knew. Her Monastery was sick, and that sickness fixated on those with prestige, particularly the Dragons, and in the end made him suffer for testing well with both physical and psychological attacks. The Dragon of Air tried hiding away, and he even tried ineffectually confronting it, only to fail. Eventually, he simply flittered off wherever the Air would take him. He traveled the world on the wings of the wind. The Oracle smiled and let him go, glad to let him finally escape. Confining the Dragon of Air in the Monastery for her to eventually send him out on a quest would be cruel. Besides, her Dragon of Fire would soon come of age, and she needed to focus on his future if she wanted the world to survive for the Dragon of Air to continue his aimless travels.

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Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Oracle's Hatchling (Oracle #2) by Mell Eight

 

Title:  The Oracle's Hatchling

Series: The Oracle, Book Two

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/16/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 20700

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, MM romance, royalty, mythical creatures, dragons, magic, war, hurt-comfort

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Description

Ling is hated by everyone in the Monastery because his birth killed his mother. He hopes Caste testing will ease his troubles—either his rank will be so low that everyone will forget about him, or it will be so high they’ll be forced to respect him. What he doesn’t expect is to walk out of the testing chamber with an egg emblazoned across his back. Laughed out of the Monastery, Ling hides away in Altnoia, where he becomes embroiled in a plot to overthrow King Edan and the Oracle who supports him.

The ringleader behind the plot is Prince Damarion, son of the evil despot who forced King Edan to flee in the first place—but the prince’s motives don’t match Ling’s expectations. He doesn’t anticipate a friendship, either, or what that friendship would become and the choices he would be forced to make.

Excerpt

The Oracle’s Flame
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Ling was eighteen. He was old enough, dammit. Still, the Masters at the door had barred his way even as they laughed at his temerity. He’d been forced to sneak into the room through a back hallway instead.

Eighteen was the Oracle’s minimum requirement to be eligible for testing. Most trainees weren’t actually called into the testing chambers until they were in their twenties, but they could attend the choosing ceremony from age eighteen onward. Despite his past, Ling had that right too.

“Welcome,” the Oracle called jovially into the room.

Her body was thirteen years old, just on the cusp of growing into a woman. Her voice reflected that: both high with youth and cracking with growing vocal cords. Her eyes, though, as they swept over the assembled crowd, were colorless and emanated a sense of age and wisdom. Ling knew those eyes, but to him they still belonged to a different woman.

“Today is the day of choosing. The young men and women trainees of the Castes will finally know to which Caste they belong, and all will be welcomed under the mountain.”

Ling had to hide a snort at that. He had heard enough jibes by his peers and teachers about how he should die in the testing chamber. They hated him because he had been born and because the occurrence of his birth had killed his mother. Still, he had hope. When he tested into a Caste, that one Caste would have to acknowledge his existence. If he tested low enough, they could finally ignore him and let him go about his life. If he tested high enough, they would be forced to respect him. That had to be better than his status at the moment.

“Come forward, trainees,” the Oracle finished with an open sweep of her arms as if she were planning to give the entire room a hug.

A line slowly formed in front of the Oracle as those jostling for place jumped forward. The older trainees wanted to know their Caste and move on to the next phase of their lives. The younger ones were eager for the honor of being placed as well, despite not having waited as many years. Ling hung back, hidden in an alcove in the back of the room. If he approached too soon and was seen waiting in line, one of the Masters would no doubt try to throw him out. He had to approach just as the Oracle gave her decision on the final trainee.

The line slowly dwindled. Each trainee approached the Oracle with cautious reverence. She placed one hand on their forehead for a long moment and then delivered their fate. Of the fifteen trainees, she only chose five, entreating the other ten to return the next year. Only once the last trainee had backed away with a bow did Ling abandon his hiding place. The onlookers, thinking the choosing had finished, began shifting awkwardly as they waited for the Oracle’s permission to leave. When she didn’t, only continued to look toward the back of the room, they all turned to see where the Oracle was patiently gazing.

No one spoke out as Ling carefully made his way through the crowd. The Oracle would tell them if he was or was not allowed to approach her, and she hadn’t spoken. Finally, Ling reached the dais where the Oracle stood.

“Approach, trainee,” she said regally.

Ling bowed low and slowly stepped up to her. This could be his only chance to attend a choosing, now that the Masters knew he had snuck in. They would find some way to permanently bar him in the future. He had to be eligible for testing this year; he didn’t know what he would do if that weren’t the case.

“Hello, Hatchling,” the Oracle said softly for Ling’s ears only.

“Hello, Mother,” Ling replied in an equally soft voice.

She smiled at him, then lifted her hand to place it on his forehead. Ling closed his eyes and waited, hoping that it would end in his favor.

The Oracle took a long time, much longer than with the other trainees. The crowd again started to shift restlessly, almost angrily. They didn’t want Ling anywhere near their precious Oracle, and that he had outmaneuvered them was already pushing their buttons.

“You shall test first,” the Oracle proclaimed. “In one hour, arrive at my rooms.” She took a slow step backward, her hand brushing across his forehead once before it returned to her side. “Go on,” she added for his ears only.

Ling bowed again, trying to hide his jubilation. He was allowed to test! Not only that, he would test first! It didn’t matter that someone elbowed him in the ribs as he hurried through the crowd and out of the room. He had been given a place of honor, one that usually meant high placement in his Caste. If he became a Master, they would be forced to respect him. No one would elbow him in the gut just because they could, not when he was a Caste Master and they a mere member.

He practically skipped down the halls, heading directly to the Oracle’s rooms before someone could think to stop him. The halls were strangely empty; everyone either watching the choosing or in training classes, their duties more important than their hatred of Ling.

“May I help you, trainee?” Elder Flame asked gently as Ling approached the massive doorway to the Oracle’s rooms. Normally there were four Masters of the Castes guarding the door, but three had been standing behind the Oracle during the choosing. Elder Flame had remained behind to secure the rooms for the Oracle’s return.

He was one of the few in the Monastery who didn’t judge Ling on his past. He didn’t appear to judge anyone, and truthfully, only his Dragon trainee had ever gotten him riled. Elder Flame was as gentle and calm as a candle flame that kept away the dark of night. That he could also be an inferno, furious and raging, was never evident. He hadn’t taken on another newly tested Fire Caste in the years since the Dragon of Fire had chosen to stay permanently in Altnoia. Ling didn’t know which Caste he wanted to test into, but he did know that having Elder Flame as his teacher would be wonderful.

“I have been chosen for testing, within the hour,” Ling replied with a grin he couldn’t keep off his face.

“Then may I offer you congratulations,” Elder Flame replied with a short bow of recognition of Ling’s accomplishment. “Enter and await the Oracle’s arrival.”

Elder Flame pulled the heavy doors open with apparent ease. He was still strong, despite his advancing age. His hair was pure white, his face deeply wrinkled, and his back bent, but the fire in him remained strong and vibrant regardless.

“Thank you, Elder Flame,” Ling replied with the deeper bow expected between a trainee and a Master. Ling stepped through the doorway and entered the Oracle’s rooms. There was a low table in the center with cushions on the floor instead of proper chairs. Ling took a seat and settled in to wait.

The testing chamber door was wide open. Ling had never heard of such a thing before, but then he hadn’t been allowed in the Oracle’s rooms since he had been five years old. The outer room hadn’t changed much in the intervening years. New cushions, a few new decorations, but overall, it was the same. Only the open door, leading into the one place Ling had never walked through in the Oracle’s rooms, was strange.

It called to him. He wanted to stand and walk through the doorway. He felt an urgent need, akin to nothing Ling had ever experienced before. He had to hold on to the table to keep from getting back to his feet.

Finally, the doors opened again. The Oracle stepped into the room with all four Masters of the Castes, who usually guarded outside, walking in behind her. They were to be his witnesses, Ling realized. No one else had stepped forward to verify his bare, untouched back before he walked into the testing chamber. No one else had cared enough about him to offer him five minutes of honor.

“Are you prepared?” the Oracle intoned, her voice filled with the age usually only visible in her eyes.

“I am prepared, Oracle,” Ling replied firmly as he let go of the table and got to his feet. Without needing to be told, Ling pulled his homespun shirt over his head. He dropped the shirt onto the table and turned so the Oracle and the Masters could see the blank canvas that was his back.

“Very well. Enter the chamber and be tested.”

Ling turned around once more and bowed deeply to the Oracle. Then he answered the insistent call of the testing chamber and walked forward. The door snapped shut after he crossed the threshold. The room was dark. Ling couldn’t see his hand in front of his face and had no idea where any of the walls were. Instead of walking forward and possibly breaking his nose when he walked into hard stone, Ling stayed exactly where he was.

After a while, he realized someone was screaming. It was a woman’s voice, high-pitched with excruciating pain. There were other voices too, men and women yelling things about blood and a baby’s foot.

“I don’t care if the baby is facing the wrong way!” the woman’s voice snapped, still shrill and broken as she gasped desperately for air.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Oracle's Flame (Oracle #1) by Mell Eight

 

Title:  The Oracle's Flame

Series: Oracle, Book One

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/02/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 19100

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, romance, menage, dragons, sailors/pirates, royalty, psychic, action/adventure

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Description

The Kingdom of Altnoia is on the cusp of civil war. The king and heir have been murdered, the throne taken by their uncle, and the kingdom’s only hope lies with Prince Edan who has been missing for the past year. The Oracle appoints Kindle, her new Dragon of Fire, one task: find Prince Edan and keep him alive.

It should have been a simple task, but Kindle did not anticipate Prince Edan would hide away on a pirate ship, forcing the dragon not only to endure pirates, but seasickness and his fear of water. And nothing, not even the Oracle, could have prepared him for the two pirates he meets and the complicated feelings they spark.

Excerpt

The Oracle’s Flame
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The castle wasn’t burning, although her mind’s eye saw it outlined in flames. There would be fire, but not this night. No, this night was death. This night was treason.

These events had already occurred. They were sent from the past, meant to ensure her understanding of the present, and to help her decipher the future. They were important, so the Oracle watched them again.

Ferim was scowling over his brother’s body. His older half brother, the king, was dead. The specter of his mother, the long-dead second wife of the previous king, hung over Ferim’s head as he declared himself King of Altnoia. The spite in his mother’s heart had successfully lived on, given new birth at the end of Ferim’s bloody sword. The king was dead. The king’s wife was dead. The king’s oldest son was dead. Ferim’s mother placed a heavy crown on Ferim’s head and then began to let out a crazed laugh.

The second son of the dead king escaped the castle, a circle of loyal servants and guards ensuring that Prince Edan, the rightful heir to the throne, boarded a ship in the harbor. Cannons fired as the White Crest forced an opening through the country’s armada. The news of the coup in the castle was just arriving at the port; too late to halt Prince Edan’s escape. Those captains loyal to their jobs futilely returned fire while those loyal to land and crown abandoned ship and took to the hills to begin building a rebellion against the false king.

The rebellion continued at sea as well, led by Prince Edan and his loyal crew, and the years passed. King Ferim grew in power, but dissent also grew as the people thought of their lost prince. The Oracle watched as a sickly green shadow began to grow in Altnoia. First the shadow was contained, as a shadow should be, by the forces of light and dark. It clung to Ferim’s robes, his shoes, and his very breath. But sickness spreads quickly. As Ferim breathed on his councilors, their shadows also began to grow ill. Ferim walked through the city, and everywhere he stepped, a pool of deadly miasma formed. Soon the shadow was hanging over all of Altnoia.

These were the images the Oracle’s mind provided to symbolize corruption and greed as they fermented. As filling one’s own pockets with gold and gems went above the good of the country. As regular citizens fought to produce enough grain to feed their families and pay the tithe the king demanded. As they sickened and died when blight came to the crops and deadly illness into the wells.

The people remembered the prosperity they had enjoyed under the murdered king, and they remembered their prince had escaped that day of blood. The people hoped for a better life, and the rebellion grew in strength every day. King Ferim sat on his throne and heard those whispers, and he knew Prince Edan had to die for his reign to continue.

And thus, the present was ended. Now it was time for the future, for the unknown, and the possible paths diverged in dozens of directions. Should King Ferim go riding on one sunny day in late spring, his horse would step in a hole, and both horse and false-king would be dead. But such an event was unlikely. King Ferim was afraid of riding, as that was allegedly what had killed his beloved mother. The Oracle discarded that path and moved on to another.

The Oracle was not alone in her mind, which helped her sort through the possibilities of each future path. She was myriad, the consciousness of each Oracle that had come before her current body held safely within her. Each consciousness sorted quickly, soon finding the most likely paths of future possibilities. The Oracle watched each one occur in her mind’s eye.

Purchase at NineStar Press

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Space Stars by Mell Eight

 

Title: Space Stars

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/05/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 37800

Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, space travel, robotics, musicians, celebrities, established couple, spies, secret agents, nerds, scientists, porn star/sex industry

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Description

This book is two short stories with one thing in common—the stars in space shine brightly, whether you’re on planet or soaring on a ship.

Cole’s star is rising like a rocket as his band tours the galaxies to sing to their adoring fans. Except, Cole’s real job isn’t lead vocals—it’s espionage.

Tarle’s star fell long ago after a horrific accident during a mecha showcase event for his new robot. Then he meets Aster, a porn star on the run. Hiding away together is far more appealing than being alone, but no one can hide forever.

Excerpt

Space Stars
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

“They’re definitely building something dangerous,” J said to begin the meeting as he walked into the spacious, albeit bland, room. There weren’t any windows, and the only ornamentation on the white walls was from the holoprojector across the room. He faced a long table with six chairs around it. All six were filled with stone-faced men and women who turned toward J when he stopped walking at the head of the table.

J touched the control panel for the holoscreen to turn the machine on and pointed out the building construction clearly visible from the spy satellite holograph that appeared seconds later.

“Planets have new construction all the time,” P cut in as she pushed her glasses higher up her nose. “With growing populations it’s inevitable, and planet 501b is certainly growing.”

“Look here,” J said as he pointed to the upper right-hand corner of the three-dimensional picture. The projector obligingly zoomed in to the location.

“Ah,” P murmured as she sank back into her seat. “Building a crono-generator is another thing entirely. But what could it be for? They’ve never been a particularly peaceful people,” she said, referencing 501b’s penchant for starting wars over the merest of slights, “but they’ve never been crazy enough to build a crono-bomb before. That could create a black hole large enough to engulf an entire galaxy!”

“How long have you had this picture?” Y asked slowly while he carefully studied the crono-generator.

J sighed. “Long enough that officials on 501b have already captured and executed six of our spies during their investigations of this issue. That’s why this task force was called to meet today. We need to find a way to infiltrate 501b to figure out if they have any plans to attack.”

“They did threaten the galaxy president two months ago in response to the president’s comments against their most recent war,” P mused.

“It’s more dire than just that,” Y said in his slow and contemplative voice. “As you all know, 501b is not actually a planet. Planet 501 was uninhabitable; only its second moon, known by the locals as Kamura, could sustain human life.”

“Moon settlements are always in desperate need of water resources.” P gasped as the full picture finally came clear for her.

“Exactly,” J cut in. “Our planet, 214, also known as Lacustrine, is almost entirely comprised of freshwater lakes, which 501b dearly needs, and our intelligence says they’re interested in acquiring. I’m afraid they don’t have any qualms about what methods they use either. So, the question remains: How do we infiltrate Kamura in order to find more information and, if necessary, destroy their crono-generator before they’re capable of building the bomb?”

P’s phone went off, a pop song currently topping the charts sounding into the worried and contemplative silence left after that final statement. One frequency was all that could reach through the protections built into the meeting room, and P’s phone only went off in an emergency anyway, so no one begrudged her the time she took to walk into the corner and answer her phone.

She didn’t turn on the holograph card to speak face-to-face, which was no surprise considering the nature of her clients, and everyone in the room tried not to listen in when she murmured into the phone. They all had something much more important to think about anyway: the answer to J’s question.

After a few seconds, P returned to her seat. J looked around at the assemblage, waiting for someone to finally say something.

L slowly tapped her finger on the table, and everyone’s attention turned to the elderly woman. L didn’t speak often, but when she did, they listened. This time was no different.

“We must use an unconventional means to sneak our spy in, and I do believe P’s impromptu phone call has given me an interesting idea. Popular music stars are welcomed across all galaxies. Often, they are begged to hold a performance on various worlds. We should put together a band, make them famous, and arrange for them to travel to 501b.”

J joined the others in giving L perplexed looks, but a smile slowly began to grow across his face. The idea was extremely farfetched, yet the very thought of how crazy a plan L had come up with decided him. If he didn’t think the idea viable, then how could anyone on 501b have plans to prevent it?

“That…” He paused to savor the idea a little further. “That is the most perfect plan I have ever heard.” He turned to the other members of the council. “What do we need to do to accomplish this?”

“A band, first of all,” P murmured. “That means at the very least a singer, a guitar player, a bass player, and a drummer if we want something conventional.”

“They’ll need a hit song,” Y added. “And a full album.”

“And good publicity,” P agreed. “I can get them a spot on the Morning Mumble, which will put them into the limelight, but the band has to be capable of proving their abilities, or they’ll go nowhere afterward.”

“So first we need a band,” J stated. “Any suggestions on who we could hire? We need people with musical talent, so we may have to go outside our regular recruits for this one.”

P nodded immediately. “The Star Slashers recently broke up and their drummer is pretty good. He also played for the Black-Hole Surfers,” she added when she received only blank looks. The Star Slashers had never been destined for greatness, but the Black-Hole Surfers had been legendary up until their singer and lead guitarist had overdosed on poorly cut and excessively laced Star Shine and the band dissolved. “His name is Kingsley,” she finished with a smile, “and he’s from this galaxy, so he’d probably be willing to work with us.”

J hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll start background checks on this Kingsley. Any other suggestions?”

L leaned forward with a groan. “I have a grandchild who promised me he would become a rock god by the time he turns thirty,” she said with quite a bit of exasperation in her voice. Her son worked for the agency, and she evidently expected her grandchild to do so as well. That didn’t seem to be in her grandson’s plans. “Solomon plays guitar and his mother tells me he’s quite good. I suppose if the ambition is present, we could give him this opportunity.”

“We have guitar and drums,” J said. “Any suggestions for the other roles? Can you think of any trained recruits we could call in to take the major roles in this operation?”

“It’s not a suggestion,” P cut in, “but we have to find a singer who is pitch-perfect without modifications or he won’t make it. We can’t just pull anyone from our basic training program and implant electronic vocal cords.”

“This is going to be an interesting search, then,” J said with a sigh. Not only did they need a band, but they also needed to find someone who could infiltrate the secret facilities on 501b without getting caught. It wasn’t going to be easy.

The meeting broke up soon afterward. P was the first person to rush out, her phone in hand. Whatever emergency she’d been called about must have been important. Considering P’s clients…well, J hoped there wasn’t a galaxy about to implode somewhere.

Z was J’s colleague from the same agency. He hadn’t spoken during the meeting, but Z was notorious for pulling J aside later to voice his thoughts. J wasn’t surprised when Z joined him in his walk down the empty hallways of the building.

“I might have an idea for a bass player,” Z murmured in his usual half-audible tone. “She’s a spitfire though. Barely passed her basic training before she quit, so I’ve no idea if the girl would like the idea, or if she’s what we want for this mission.”

“Submit her name and have a background check run,” J replied. “We’ll find some way to convince her and…” He paused, his head cocked to the side. One hand flashed upward to grip Z’s arm. “Do you hear that?” he asked excitedly.

Z tilted his head to listen and slowly nodded. “It’s probably a radio someone left on.” He sighed. “But it won’t hurt to go see.”

They both turned the corner, following the sound of someone singing. The door to the men’s locker room was left partially ajar, and J pushed it open the rest of the way so he and Z could walk into the space. J expected to see a holodisk left on inside one of the recruits’ lockers, so he was surprised when a young man, fresh from the showers with his back to J and Z, had his head tilted back and his mouth wide open as he sang.

His tone was pure and clean—perfect.

He was drying his brown hair with a towel, his eyelids closed. His naked back was thin but well sculpted, although the loose pants he wore hid his lower body from J’s perusal. A pair of old-fashioned Coke-bottle glasses sat on the bench next to him.

There were two gyms attached to the locker room, one for the regular staff and one for the special recruits. This far into after-hours, only the special recruits had access. Whoever the man was, he piqued J’s interest.

J glanced over at Z and saw that Z was just as mesmerized by the beautiful singing. Z finally glanced back over and nodded. Whoever the recruit was, he was about to be given a new mission.

The singing stopped as the young man finally finished drying his hair. He put his towel down and patted his hand across the bench until he found his glasses. Then he turned around to find his shirt and jumped when he caught sight of J and Z.

“Sorry,” the young man said, his face rapidly going red as he ducked his head. He got to his feet in a hurry, finding parade rest with his feet even though he was staring at the ground instead of facing straight forward.

“Not at all,” J replied. He stepped closer to the recruit, studying him closely for a long moment, which only made his face grow even redder. “What are your vitals, recruit?” J finally asked.

“Name: Cole! Just finished basic training two days ago, sir!” Cole said sharply, even though he still wouldn’t look J directly in the face. He had been trained well, if not perfectly. “I haven’t been assigned to a vector yet, sir.”

J glanced over at Z after that admission. Normally recruits knew their vector location a good few months before the end of their training. He was also still using his full name rather than a code name, which he would have been given as part of his first vector assignment. Z nodded discreetly. He would start a background check on Cole to figure out what had prevented normal procedure in his case.

“Thank you, Cole,” J said with a dismissive nod. “We’ll be in touch.”

J and Z walked off, leaving behind the man who was to become their lead singer.

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Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Melting the Ice Witch (Dragon’s Hoard #4) by Mell Eight

 

Author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing drop by to promote new release, Melting the Ice Witch (Dragon’s Hoard #4)! Find out more about the latest from the dragon shifter series and enter in the $50 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Melting the Ice Witch

Series: Dragon's Hoard, Book Four

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/18/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 27400

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, mythical creatures, dragon shifters, witches, tundra

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Description

The Tribe of the White Dragon has lived in the frozen wastes of the north for thousands of years, but they are slowly dying without their dragon to protect them from the inhospitable cold.

In desperation, they kidnap Kam, hoping to use him to breed witch power back into the Tribe. But Kam is not a witch, and there is nothing he can do to save them—until he sees the white dragon encased in ice and all alone and a chain reaction is set off that may save them after all.

Excerpt

Melting the Ice Witch
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

“In the before times, when the cold ice and biting wind were welcoming to our kind, dragons flew,” the old storyteller warbled. The man was bent and gray, and his crabbed hands shook on his gnarled staff, but his voice still held the power that had made him the storyteller of the Tribe in his youth.

“The golden dragon rained fire and melted the ice, and the white dragon taught the Tribe the spells to survive the difficult, yet beautiful, climate. Together, the gold and white kept these plains of ice tamed, and the Tribe survived in plenty.”

The old man’s voice reached Kam even from the other side of the fire. Warmth in the ice wastes was hard to come by, especially for one not of the Tribe, so Kam appreciated his place near the flickering flames. His brown hair was city short, which meant his ears and neck were exposed to the cold wind. The barbarians all had hair that reached well down their backs, tied in intricate braids with feathers and stones woven throughout. None had hair more elaborate than Lor, the man with the snow-white hair and ice blue eyes who had the seat of honor next to the storyteller.

“But—” The storyteller’s voice darkened, and Kam felt his chest clench at the ominous tone. “—such times were not meant to last. The golden one gathered his followers around him and declared that for the happiness of dragon-kind they must separate themselves from the wars of humans. No more deaths of dragons, was the golden one’s goal, but the white dragon disagreed with his methods.

“They fought with their words, their arguments echoing through the icy canyons, but neither would back down. The white dragon knew that to abandon the humans was to allow the Tribe, his hoard, to die in the ice wastes. But the golden one wished to keep his kin alive and to do so he needed to rule the humans, not be ruled by human whim.

“The best of friends, and possibly lovers, the golden dragon and the white dragon never spoke again. All but the white dragon flew south, where the plains are formed of grass rather than ice. There they settled in the mountains. They built a city for the humans in the foothills. And the white dragon withdrew to the ice caves, alone.”

The storyteller bowed his head in sadness, but Lor’s piercing eyes scanned the assembled members of the Tribe.

“So we survive.” Lor continued the story. His voice was strong, but as the leader of the Tribe, he had to be. Lor was the tallest and most muscular of all the barbarians, and he was the only witch the clan still had. “Bereft of the dragons who allowed us life in the barren waste of ice and snow, the Tribe learned new ways to survive. We adapted, so after tens of thousands of years, we still live.” Kam looked around at the assembled Tribe and frowned. There were barely sixty people of all ages and genders still remaining in the circle around the fire. He had learned that there was another clan to the northwest with equal numbers. But most alarmingly, there were only two witches left: Lor and the man named Bay who led the other clan. There were no female witches to pass the traits on, nor had any of Lor’s children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren shown any aptitude during Lor’s hundreds of years of life.

The Tribe was dying.

That was why Kam had been brought north. The only way to invigorate the clans was to breed more witch blood into the lines. The hope was if Kam were to have a child with one of the descendants of Lor, maybe a child with powers could be born. But Kam wasn’t a witch, and he hadn’t exactly been asked before he was kidnapped and taken to the ice wastes.

“We live and we are strong,” Lor continued. “The Tribe of the White Dragon does not fade away!”

The barbarians cheered loudly around Kam, but Kam didn’t join them. As the assemblage broke up, Kam returned to his small tent. Once the barbarians had been sure he wouldn’t run away—as if there were some way to survive in the endless ice wastes for a city-bred boy—they had given Kam his own space. The tent was small, with barely enough room for bedding and a small wooden chest filled with the meager belongings he had accumulated in the last few weeks, but it was heavy with furs and thick woolen blankets that kept the cold and the wind out. Kam curled up in his bed, glad when his blankets began to warm with his body heat, and closed his eyes.

The barbarians were nice enough despite the fact that he couldn’t give them what they wanted. And it was better than being back in the city. Kam went to sleep with that thought firmly in mind. As much as he had disliked being kidnapped and taken to the barren north, it was still better than what he endured in the city. His thoughts focused on those times as he drifted to sleep.

«

“Kam, Kam, the witchery man,” the kids sang as Kam walked past them. He ducked his head, but otherwise kept himself from acknowledging their taunts. His mother hadn’t exactly been discreet with her passions, and lying with the resident witch had supposedly produced Kam. Since the man in question was a charlatan and his mother had never actually said he was Kam’s father before they both died…well, all that didn’t matter to everyone else. To them, Kam had witch blood, and in his part of the city, he was someone to be ridiculed.

Kam pushed his way into the small shop where he worked. The bell jingled overhead.

“Kameron, you’re late!” the harpy who was his boss screeched from behind the front counter. As usual, the place was dirty and the goods covered the shelves with haphazard organization. The sour smell that had appeared early last week had only grown worse overnight.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Kam murmured, ducking his head further as he wended his way through the mishmash stacks of random goods and into the back room. The pawnshop bought and sold everything. Sailors on leave after making the journey down the Great River came to the shop to sell what they could so they would have the funds to drink and carouse in the bars and whorehouses that also populated that part of the docks.

It was Kam’s job to clean and fix those often grimy and broken items so the owner could in turn sell them for profit to a higher quality pawnshop in the northern part of the city. It paid well for the woman, but Kam only saw a few coins a week for his work. As the witchery man he was lucky to have a job, so as much as Kam wished, there was no way he could find better prospects.

Kam worked hard for his pay, and at the end of the day his hands ached, but his quota was met. He left the shop at dusk and hurried home. He couldn’t tarry, because the docks became very dangerous after dark, and since his rent was due, he couldn’t afford to stop for dinner anyway.

He walked up the three flights of rickety stairs to his tiny apartment. It was one room, barely large enough to hold his threadbare bedding and one change of clothes, but it was a place to sleep. He had left one window cracked while he was away so the three cats that had crept in during the previous night could leave if they wished. The family of mice that lived under his floorboards were running about, so Kam was careful where he placed his feet as he walked over to collapse on his blanket.

One of the mice climbed up onto his pillow and gently nuzzled him on the nose. The mouse was hungry, too, and was probably looking for crumbs, but Kam appreciated the meager comfort his small friend could provide. Kam smiled, despite his rumbling stomach, as he slowly fell asleep.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Stealing the Dragon (Dragon's Hoard #3) by Mell Eight

 

Join author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing in celebrating new fantasy release, Stealing the Dragon (Dragon's Hoard #3)! Discover more and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway! Good luck!

Title: Stealing the Dragon

Series: Dragon's Hoard, Book Three

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/14/2021

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 26800

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, bonded mates, royalty, prison, interspecies, mythical creatures, dragon shifters

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Description

Stealing from a dragon’s hoard is never a bright idea, but stealing from a baby dragon’s hoard can lead to tears, sniffles, and smoke in the middle of a busy marketplace.

Jerney, a witch who does work for a well-known thieves’ guild, knows exactly who’s to blame for the brazen theft. With no other choice in the matter, he quickly becomes entangled in trying to help the baby dragon. What he doesn’t expect is his own heart might get stolen in the process.

Excerpt

Stealing the Dragon
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

“Tori, you’re the only one I can send. I’m sorry.”

Tori looked up from where he was carefully shining his favorite ruby necklace and glared at his human uncle Bast.

“This time you really are the only one. Rex and Jag are both out of the city, and we needed this solved five years ago.”

Uncle Bast’s expression showed real remorse at having to pull Tori from his hoard room, but that didn’t make Tori feel any better. He wasn’t human, regardless of the fact that his shape was. Both of his parents were dragons, and he was the result of an experiment on what would happen if dragons tried to procreate in human form. Instead of being born in dragon shape from an egg, as all dragons were, Tori had been born from a womb in human form as humans were.

The fact that his mother had managed to stay in human form for the requisite nine months surprised Tori every time he went to visit her. Gail was the flightiest of dragons, and sometimes she barely remembered she had two sons and that one of them, Tori, was stuck in human form until he matured enough to shift.

At eighteen, Tori was still a baby dragon. He hadn’t even reached his second decade yet! His older brother Nyle was still considered to be a child, and he had lived for centuries. But humans didn’t understand that Tori should still be cave-bound, barely starting to learn about pretties and his magic. Eighteen years old for a human was considered to be the age of adulthood when young men and women were expected to take on adult responsibilities. Raised among humans, Tori was able to act at least close to that age, but it was hard to pretend maturity sometimes.

Eight months ago, his uncle Bast had forced Tori to take command of a rank of troops. Tori had tried to treat it as an experiment, to see if a dragon could handle warring humans. Needless to say, it had failed, and the humans had blamed Tori as if Tori should have been old enough to understand what had gone wrong.

Three months ago, Bast had given Tori some basic investigation work in the castle. A servant had been stealing the silver. Tori had just shrugged off the investigation entirely. If the humans didn’t consider the silver their hoard, then they had no right to keep someone from taking it. Luckily, even the human servant stealing from the castle had known better than to touch Tori’s small hoard.

There was no way Uncle Bast was sending Tori out on another investigation. Tori would prefer to move in with his big brother Nyle, even if Nyle and Leon were a bit sickening with their snuggling all the time. Tori turned his back on Uncle Bast and went back to polishing his ruby necklace set in gold.

He held it up to his hair, admiring the fact that the red parts of his hair so closely matched the ruby and the gold parts of his hair matched the gold setting. That was another strange thing about him. Tori was stuck in human form until his magic matured enough to allow him a second shape, and instead of solely being gold like his father, Tori had both his parents’ coloring. Being bicolored, red and gold, was odd for a dragon, but it pleased Tori to be so pretty.

“There’s a witch spell casting for the thieves’ guild!” Uncle Bast tried to explain. “They’ve been getting away with crimes for almost ten years. I just need you to locate the witch; that’s all.”

Tori finished polishing his favorite necklace and clasped it around his neck. His glance around the small storeroom filled with his pretties showed that nothing was out of place or in need of polish. Tori stood with a groan and walked over to his small pile of rubies. He felt the urge to curl up on the rubies. There was one advantage to being in human shape: as a dragon, the pile would only serve as a pillow, but as a human, his entire shape would fit on it.

Tori gave into the urge without much thought. He spread a soft blanket to keep the sharp points from digging into his skin and curled up with one hand buried in red and purple brilliance.

“Tori!” Uncle Bast snapped from the doorway. Tori ignored him, and soon enough his uncle sighed as if disappointed and left. Tori snuggled deeper into his blanket and took a nap.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! Competition hosted by NineStar Press. 

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Breaking the Shackles (The Dragon's Hoard #2) by Mell Eight

Author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing host a release blitz for Breaking the Shackles (The Dragon's Hoard #2)! Read more about the latest in the fantasy series and enter in the $50 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Breaking the Shackles

Series: Dragon's Hoard, Book Two

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/06/2021

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 23600

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, bonded mates, royalty, interspecies, mythical creatures, shifters

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Description

Separated and abused by the magi, twins Laine and Baine each swore to do whatever it took to break free and save the other. But when Baine arrives at the werewolf village prepared to rescue Laine and return home triumphant, he soon learns that any plan involving a dragon and a werewolf is bound to go awry.

Excerpt

Breaking the Shackles
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

The haze covering Laine’s mind faded. Slowly he became aware of his surroundings and flinched at that realization. Awareness equaled pain: pain from the knowledge of those who had been so violently lost and pain as his own flesh writhed from the cruel ministrations of the creatures that had taken control of him.

The magi, his mind hissed. The magi had taken him captive with five others of his clan. Only he remained alive. The return of memories that came with his first moments free of the haze was one of the reasons Laine so hated each return to consciousness.

As the haze further retreated, Laine expected to feel a whip on his back or an excruciating pull as his magic was forcibly drained from his body. His magic gave him life eternal, brought breath to his body, and made his heart pump. Without it, the other five of his clan had perished, gasping for air they could no longer breathe for hearts that could no longer beat. The magi stole the magic that gave them life, and they died.

Shackles surrounded Laine’s upper arms, but pain did not wrack his body. His magic felt strong and hale, as if the magi had not drawn from him in hours. Strange, and worrying. What twisted plan did the magi have in store for him now?

Laine’s surroundings came further into focus. He felt like he was riding on something. His body was lifting and lowering in the air as whatever he was tied to bounded forward. His fingers were clenched in what felt like fur.

Laine did not open his eyes. That would alert the magi that he was awake and aware, which would lead to more pain. Instead, Laine enjoyed the soothing feeling of the fur below him. His mind drifted away into a dream—one in which he watched the magi die.

Wolves howled in the woods. One of the magi tugging Laine along the tangled forest path swore. The wolves were truly wondrous creatures. They broke cover and appeared in the clearing. One wolf with a white muzzle, as if he had dipped his nose in a bottle of milk and hadn’t yet licked himself clean, stood out. That wolf killed the magi who liked to giggle when he drew power from Laine.

Two more wolves appeared, the first a female of russet color and the second a light-brown male with large black splotches on his back. Together they ripped apart the magi’s second-in-command, a man with long brown hair and light-blond stripes growing from his temples. Laine found it strange that the magi bled the same color as Laine’s back did whenever the man gleefully used his whip.

And then a beautiful dark-brown wolf with the deepest, most wonderful brown eyes appeared in front of Laine and dove directly at the magi holding him captive. The connection between them snapped as the magi used both hands to defend himself against the wolf. Laine fell to the ground, released from the magi’s clutches. Claws slashed wickedly as the wolf backed the magi into a tree. Every time the magi opened his mouth to lay a coercion spell, the wolf increased the fervor of his attacks until all the magi could do was gasp and bleed. The wolf ripped the leader of the magi’s throat out soon after. Laine glimpsed the long black hair with two white stripes growing from the temples before a spray of blood disfigured the leader’s face forever.

The dream ended with Laine sitting on the forest floor while blood and wolves surrounded him. Even in the dream he returned to the haze. Laine wished it were possible for such things to come true. For the magi to be dead and Laine to be free. Well, it was a nice dream, but reality abhorred dreams.

Laine drifted. Hours, days…he couldn’t keep track of time. He didn’t want to keep track of time.

When he came to again, the situation had grown stranger. His side was warm and he heard crackling. Was he lying in front of a fire? He lay on a real bed with feathers and a pillow. A blanket was even tucked around his body. How many years had it been since Laine had felt the comfort of a simple blanket? He didn’t keep track of time for a reason.

He knew it would alert the enemy if he moved, but Laine couldn’t help it. He curled deeper into the warmth of the mattress and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. Laine ignored the shocked whispers behind him. Surrounded by unfamiliar comfort, his body fell into a real sleep—the first in a very, very long time.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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