Rough Magic is the thrilling conclusion to the five book post-apocalyptic fantasy series, The Faerene Apocalypse. Releasing it now, with a pandemic sweeping the globe, is a truly strange feeling. In real life we’re trying to come to grips with how to survive when our world changes dramatically. In Rough Magic, Amy is once again faced with the high cost of survival. The choices we make affect more than ourselves. But I can GUARANTEE that the novel has a happy-ever-after ending. I hope all of us have that in real life, too.
Take care, stay healthy and here’s a ginormous virtual (((HUG)))
“But this rough magic I here abjure…” William Shakespeare, The Tempest
A new tempest sweeps the Earth as the truth of humanity’s magic is revealed.
Magic is far more complicated on Earth than the Faerene suspected. Now, they must work with humans to create new ways of surviving it. They’ll have to listen to Amy.
Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XFJR2RJ/
Excerpt
Scared people looked for someone to blame. Fae King Harold had just asserted that it wouldn’t be me. It would be very tempting for the Faerene to lay the blame for feral magic at a human’s feet, but I had acted at the Fae Council’s request.
His statement might help later, but for now I felt guilty.
It was my blood and my magic that had activated the orb and led to it unlocking Earth’s magic from its uncannily stable pattern. That had been five minutes ago. A lot had happened in those five minutes. Uncertainty came at you fast.
“I’m declaring a global emergency, level one,” Harold announced. “Amy, you’re now a member of the Fae Council.”
Two hours ago, I’d walked into the meeting with the option to join the Fae Council as its sole human representative. Harold had taken that decision from me, but I couldn’t argue with him. Forestalling a second apocalypse demanded that everyone work together. I lacked the Faerene’s understanding of magic, but I was miles ahead of every other human’s knowledge of it thanks to my bond to Istvan, the black griffin magistrate for the North American Territory, and my recent marriage to Rory.
Rory was a werewolf. The flaring magic hadn’t caused him to shift, although the werewolf member of the Fae Council, Radomir, had noticeably wolfed out in terms of hair and claws and the elongation of his jaw and teeth.
I’d burrowed against Rory as the horror show on the wall slates began. When you couldn’t breathe because of smoke, you wore a mask, even if it was merely a soaked piece of towel. When I couldn’t breathe because of terror and dread, I needed Rory. He didn’t filter reality for me, but he gave me the strength to endure it; to fight for our future.
He held me tight with his left arm, leaving his dominant arm free to defend us. None of us knew what the unleashed magic would trigger next. The Faerene bunkers were intended to operate as safe havens, but they’d been built on the principles of magic with active magic embedded in their design and contained within them, and right now, that made them hotspots for danger.
What Rory didn’t do was protest my co-option to the Fae Council.
With the nightmares displayed on the wall slates, one pushing out the other as emergency reports flooded in, this wasn’t something I could refuse. I looked at Harold. “I accept.”
I’d lived through one apocalypse. Turning away when people needed me wasn’t an option.
Read on: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XFJR2RJ/
