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Inimical by Genevieve Iseult Eldredge

Inimical
Genevieve Iseult Eldredge
(Circuit Fae, #3)
Published by: Monster House Books
Publication date: September 18th 2018
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult

Being a fairy princess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, especially when you have to choose between saving your people…And killing your girlfriend. Oh, and let’s not forget having to pass summer school, too.

Talk about a hot mess.

First, there’s Rouen, princess of the dark Fae, goth-rock star Euphoria, and soon-to-be senior at Richmond Elite High. Her world is all things ice, snow, and death. And that death will include her own people unless she can defeat her evil father in a Battle of Wits and War and seize the throne. Trouble is, taking the throne is a death sentence for the princess of the fair Fae. In other words, a quick death for Syl, Rouen’s girlfriend.

And that’s so not good.

Second, there’s Syl, princess of the fair Fae, geek girl mathlete, and also an incoming senior. Things aren’t any easier for her. Syl must save her people by battling her old nemesis, the fair Fae prince, and the same rules apply: taking the throne means a death sentence for the other court’s princess, Rouen.

Even worse, Syl and Rouen’s enemies have figured out they’re a couple. Now, both Rouen’s father and Syl’s archenemy are teaming up to ensure neither of them makes it till Midsummer’s Day never mind to the fall semester.

Looks like passing summer school is the least of their worries.

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Excerpt

In this excerpt, it’s been hours since Syl heard from Rouen after Rouen was dragged into the Dark Faerie court. Naturally, Syl’s very worried…

Stop thinking like that, Syl, I chide myself. Roue’s alive.

All morning, I’ve felt echoes of her. A twinge here, an ache there. It gives me a little ray of hope.

But she never shows. And I can’t reach her through our soul-bond.

What this means is, I spend day two of summer school freaking out quietly at my desk, sending and sending at Rouen, only to get nothing back.

By the time lunch rolls around, I’m a bundle of freaking out.

I can’t eat, so I sneak outside to the quad and sit on one of the peeling yellow picnic tables. The near-summer sun beats down, and the warmth feels good. I close my eyes, let it wash over my face.

Warmth. The smell of Miss Jardin’s roses. A gust of wintry air.

Wait. What?

The pressure changes, and dark clouds blot out the sun. Another blast of cool wind hits me. Shivers spike my spine. Every nerve ending is suddenly tingling from the cold, and my instincts are screaming, It’s a trap!

Only one thing sends my instincts into DEFCON 1—royal dark Fae magic—and it’s not Roue’s. I can tell that right away.

Here comes King Reinghûl of the Winter Court.

I stand up. I’m the Princess of Summer. I’m ready.

The bright day turns grey, chill winds blowing clouds in fast as I can blink. The threat of snow hangs crisp in the air. Shadows fall across the quad, shrouding me and the picnic tables. Everything smells like snow and storm, but it’s rotten, decaying.

I’d remember that smell anywhere. King Reinghûl’s magic.

It’s tinged with ozone and burning asphalt.

Prickles of fear rush across my skin. That’s Circuit Fae magic.

It doesn’t matter. I’d face anything for Roue. I steel my resolve, limbering up my fingers in case I need to summon my white flame.

The shadows warp and peel back, wisps solidifying into a seven figures in wintersteel and adamant platemail, swords and pikes and glaives glinting darkly.

The Adamant Guard.

But something’s wrong. First, not one of them wears their helm—not the smartest choice if you’re going into battle. Second, and way worse, crimson circuits burn like sickly veins beneath their skin, their eyes gone totally red and fiery.

Moribund. But…this kind is different.

I summon my Fae-sight, but all I see of their auras is blazing crimson. They have no personal feelings, thoughts, ideas. No autonomy. Chills grip me, and my heart goes out to them.

Whatever this Moribund is, it’s controlling even their minds.

And I have a very good idea who holds the master-key circuit.

Crap. Looks like this’s going to turn into a fight after all.

I throw up a don’t-see-this Glamoury—you’re welcome, King Jerkface—and drop into a battle stance, but the Adamant Guard only march into the quad, armor and spears pluming cold, and form an honor guard.

The temperature drops even more, snow swirls in the air, and the cold bite of magic ripples across my skin again, this time more powerful. It’s all smoke and mirrors, though. None of this can hurt me here. All of this is just for show and threat.

For a king, he sure is a drama queen.

In a burst of snow and shadow, a powerfully built man steps into the quad, every inch of him dark and terrifying—raven-black hair, intense sapphire-blue eyes, a circlet of wintersteel around his brow. Frigid wisps plume off platemail carved from black ice.

But that’s not what sends shivers of fear racing up my spine.

It’s the crimson Moribund circuitry spliced into his skin, running in veins up his neck and ending in a red-hot runic spiral on his cheek.

I’d know that power signature anywhere.

A master-key circuit.

He steps into the quad, surveying everything like he owns the place, his lips curled in disdain. The King of the dark Fae. Roue’s dad. His sneer widens, showing a glint of fangs. “Sleeper-princess.”

What am I supposed to say to him? We’re way past can I date your daughter?

“Hi.” Ugh. Really, Syl? Hi?

More shadows peel back around him, and I see he’s holding someone in his arms. Wounded, bloody, unconscious.

“Rouen!”

Every instinct screams at me to keep my distance, but I rush toward her.

“That’s close enough.” His voice is a deep, grating baritone, like a glacier shifting in winter. Ice against ice.

I stop a few feet away. Roue’s so pale. Her bronze skin’s lost its glow, her leathers torn, bloody from a thousand cuts. My own body aches everywhere. Now I know why. It looks like she lost a fight with a wood chipper. “Roue!”

My heart cracks, but she’s not in danger of dying. She’s okay, Syl. She’ll be okay. I can feel her healing powers slowly knitting away.

Still…

Fury as hot as the sun boils up inside me. “What did you do to her?” I take a step toward King Jerkwad, calling my Summer power to awaken. Fwoosh! The quad lights up as white flame wreathes my hands and burns off the shadows.

Okay, most dark Fae, when they see me flame on, at least take a step back from all that purifying white fire.

King Reinghûl’s not most dark Fae. He chucks darkly. “You want her?”

“Always.” I raise my chin. I won’t be ashamed. Forget that.

“Have her.” He opens his arms and drops her.


Author Bio:

Raised by witches and dragons in the northern wilds, GIE writes angsty urban fantasy YA romance–where girls who are mortal enemies kick butt, take names, and fall in love against all odds.

She enjoys long hikes in the woods (where better to find the fair folk?), believing in fairies (in fact, she’s clapping right now), dancing with dark elves (always wear your best shoes), being a self-rescuing princess (hello, black belt!), and writing diverse books about teenage girls finding love, romance, and their own inner power.

She might be planning high tea at the Fae Court right now.

GIE is multi-published, and in her role as an editor has helped hundreds of authors make their dream of being published a reality.

Website / Blog / Facebook / Twitter / Pinterest

 

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About Kristine

As an aspiring author, avid bookworm, fitness fanatic and dedicated mother, there just aren't enough hours in the day. I write or post about things I'm passionate about and spend my time trying to make the most of every day. Life may be a tough journey, but I have my ruby red slippers and am content on skipping along this yellow brick road until the end of the line.

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