Dear Reader,
I can’t believe it’s been three years since I started this journey. It’s Lou’s birthday, and in honor, I have lowered the price for the extended version to .99 cents. You can find it here: https://books2read.com/u/4Ay5Oq
Definitely check it out!
In other news, Book 3 of All Bite is currently out for ARCs, and I’m working on book 4. I ended up writing the two together. Book three, Hand-Me-Down Boys was supposed to be a little 1k bridge between Thief and book4, and instead, turned into way more pages.
Remi Sanna and his brother, Indigo Bonnie, thought their lives were complete, but the magic has a new twist to add to their knotted normal.
We Find What You Left Behind.
All Blood Bleeds Red But It Does Not Bleed Magic.
—The Hand-Me-Down Boys
Coming soon to amazon. Be sure to follow me on TikTok, YouTube, or Facebook for updates on a release date.
If you haven’t checked out my YouTube, please do, and subscribe to my channel for inside information on the Prides, Skins and Scales, and the gods and goddesses. I will be talking about Ian Graeme, too, and you don’t want to miss it.
All of Thorn’s Brew will be wide in the next two weeks. Be on the lookout for it at your favorite retailer.
And just for your reading pleasure, a little taste of history from Thorn’s Brew.
How Josh became the caretaker of Monroe House
Josh Cummings
Parchment, leather, and paper overpowered winter’s clean, crisp scent as I crossed the threshold and removed my boots. The bare wood floor was freezing as I padded across the bookshop and up to the second floor. My shoes were warming by the fire, and I slipped my stocking feet into them before removing my overcoat.
“Ah, Josh. I hadn’t expected you this morning with the Christmas Ball tonight.” Davis Donovan leaned back in his chair, causing the wood to creak. “Drina has been looking forward to attending all week. Harry is a fine man, don’t you think?”
I grunted on my way to my desk, stepping around the new shipment of books from Ambrose Press.
“I believe Katelain is most pleased you agreed to escort her.” Davis continued, as if my response was positive.
It was neither yes nor no, but what could I say? Davis had given in to Cyrus Ambrose’s dictate that skins marry skins and scales should die for daring to be born.
I removed the top of the first crate and frowned over the new covers for the history books. Fine gold inlay depicted a young man standing beside the town sign, and the seal of Ambrose House dangled from his neck.
“Davis, what is this?” I set the book on my desk and studied the binding and gold-embossed pages. Chapter one began with the birth of Cyrus and no mention of Thorn. Each lineage was hand drawn, and all Witch.
Seven Houses of Skins were represented in bold script, along with their magic.
I was the head of Monroe House after my father’s untimely death, but my name was left off.
Henry Harrison Bennett, Reaper, began the Bennett line instead of Fortescue, and Katelain began the Hampton line instead of Archer—all the sons of Thorn erased from Monroe’s history with a few ill-placed words.
Cyrus Somerset fancied himself the Head of the Covens and the Bloodlines.
I never expected Davis Donovan to give in to Cyrus.
Icy tendrils of fear pierced my flesh from the point of a blade. Davis had outdone himself today. What this what he meant when he said he had a gift for my birthday?
My blood splattered to the pages of the History book, and fear heated to anger, causing my claws to erupt from my fingertips. I whirled around, and Cyrus’ grinning face fell into shock. The man didn’t expect me to fight back.
My heartbeats were loud in my ears, drowning out any other sound. My sight dimmed as I lurched forward, and somewhere in the distance, Cyrus yelled for me to stand down. My fingers grasped the hilt in my side, and I tugged, ignoring the burn. My heart silenced for three beats in recognition of the serrated blade losing its hold on my flesh. I plunged it into Cyrus’ throat, and the man staggered back.
The blade’s magic spoke to me, and my body obeyed the commands. In the fight, we rolled down the stairs to the ground floor, and I held onto the hilt, hoping to take it with me. The emerald in the hilt blinked at me.
The bastard had removed her eye?
“Sleep, mon petit,” whispered through my mind, and the wood floor became my feather tick mattress.
The magic in the blade had sent me home, but I wouldn’t be leaving for a long time. Not now.
That’s all for now. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the information about Thorn’s Brew.
Jae
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