Summary:
Demons are expected to hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?
Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a millennium ago.
After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back. The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates. When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only thing he hates about his potential new home.
When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial dislike of each other.
Summary:
To embrace the future and find love, both men must face the darkness of their pasts.
A man torn between what his soul wants and what he believes is expected of him, Scheredin D’Vaire is still fiercely loyal to his family. Scheredin is one of the few remaining warlocks and spends his days aiding his cousins in running the D’Vaire sanctuary. In his free time, Scheredin loves gaming. With the tap of a few keys, Scheredin can lose himself in another world.
Kieran Tarinthfenix is a phoenix shifter whose tribe likes to forget that elf blood also runs through their veins. A driven man, Kieran takes his hobby of gaming and learns to craft titles of his own. He hands his income to his chieftain despite Kieran’s lack of respect for a man who forces his people to take part in an ancient but cruel ceremony every year.
Scheredin and Kieran meet online and quickly grow into gaming buddies. For years, they are content with an online relationship and the anonymity it provides. When Scheredin decides to meet Kieran in person, they discover they’re mates, but there are secrets between them. To find lasting love, both men will have to throw away the past and seize their destinies.
Summary:
Even with Fate’s blessing, there are no guarantees in life or love.
Skeleton Lord Brynnius Daray is happiest when he’s wielding his daggers or elbow deep in flour, baking some wondrous treat. As an elite assassin, Brynnius spends his days protecting the Council of Sorcery and Shifters, and his evenings are for family. The Darays are lively and dedicated, and Brynnius loves them fiercely. However, at night he is alone, and Brynnius yearns for his mate.
Having been recently resurrected, Samson is desperate to prove his worth as a fallen knight. The trouble is, Samson is part of a ground-breaking experiment—and the new spell is flawed. Or perhaps it is the man himself that has issues. While Samson struggles to understand his purpose, he learns that Brynnius is the other half of his soul.
Although Fate has brought them together, neither man is sure what the future holds. To figure it out, they must confront the past and reconcile their present. Just when Samson and Brynnius finally find common ground, the world intrudes. Nothing will ever be the same for the Darays.
For any chance at love, they must first be willing to trust.
A proud fallen knight, Gentry Patterson likes to take people under his wing. Gifted with an easygoing nature, he makes friends effortlessly and, thanks to his love of cooking, often invites his inner circle over for meals. Gentry’s favorite week of the year is the annual retreat for his race, where he’s reunited with the many friends and colleagues he’s met through the years. The only thing that would enrich his existence is his mate, but he has yet to meet him.
Newly resurrected Tobias Kinsler wants to put his training behind him and make his superiors proud. However, Tobias is struggling. He keeps it to himself because he lacks people he’s willing to trust. With a mere few months of life under his belt, Tobias attends the fallen knights’ annual retreat and discovers his other half.
The two men have a sizzling connection from the start and waste no time binding their souls. Unfortunately, they will soon learn that secrets lurk beneath their growing friendship, and those secrets fracture the tenuous bond between them. As they chart an uncertain future, Gentry and Tobias must decide if they’re still willing to honor Fate.
Soul of the Imperian #26
Standing in a conference room within the Order of the Fallen Knights, Sashati opened the letter. Although it was not addressed to him, he read it for possibly the hundredth time.
Arch Lich Chander Daray,
Greetings, I trust this missive finds you well. My people and I are searching for a new home, and our research led us to the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. We live in a realm that differs greatly from your planet and hope you would meet with us to answer specific questions regarding your world. Your kindly fallen knights have gifted us with a book about your government, and we have much interest in joining. Enclosed is a scroll that will allow you to communicate with us. Our schedule remains free, so please advise when and where is most convenient for you. It is my fondest wish to hear from you soon.
Yours,
Imperian Paszratorabiel
The words were antiquated, and the script was elaborately fussy, as if the writer were from a different era, but the name signed at the bottom proved it to be a lie.
“The Imperian died a thousand years ago,” Sashati grumbled.
“There are few stories of your history. Perhaps the demons have been discussing him,” said Daemon Lord Benton Daray, one of the two sentinels who guarded Chander.
“With whom? They rarely leave their apartments, and the sentinels would certainly not be gossiping about our most hated enemy,” Sashati growled, pacing in the conference room where they’d asked the imposter to meet them.
“You don’t have to say that so scornfully. They’re still adapting,” Diyarta responded immediately.
“I’m very curious why someone would use the name of a dead man no demon has willingly spoken in a millennium,” Hexaniys remarked.
Although Sashati would never suggest it aloud in Diyarta’s presence, he wondered if it was the demons pulling a prank. They had to be bored in their apartments when they weren’t spending the money other races had donated to the Demonic Arcani, and it would be like them to goad their inexperienced leader by pretending to write a letter as the Imperian.
“What I don’t understand is why the letter is addressed to Chand,” stated Lich Sentinel Alaric Daray, the leader of the Sentinel Brotherhood and Chander’s mate. “If whoever this is wants to join the Council, they should’ve contacted the Emperors.”
“Perhaps they heard that every time Chand gets a magical missive it bops him in the face and couldn’t resist the temptation,” Daemon Lord Baxter Daray said.
The Arch Lich offered him a baleful stare. “I’m sure they used a dead guy’s name and put together this entire hoax on the off chance I might get a paper cut on my nose.”
“Let’s stay focused on the facts,” remarked Reverent Knight Drystan Gylde-Kempe, the co-leader of the Order of the Fallen Knights. “Our office in San Diego logged two visitors showing up in ornate but old-fashioned clothing a week ago. There was a man and a woman of a race our officer could not name, though there was a level of familiarity to it. They were polite but unfamiliar with the names of things like the Order of Necromancia. For whatever reason, they were interested in Chand. We can’t discount that the two incidents are likely related. The officer offered them a handbook, which they took, and then they left.”
“He asked them to identify their race, but the pair either neglected or refused to answer,” added Drystan’s mate, Reverent Knight Conley. “We don’t know their names either. There was nothing to suggest they were dangerous, but we have no clue how many of this race there are. Not to mention whether they’ll show up en masse today, or if it’s just going to be this supposed imposter.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Sashati argued. “The Imperian himself slaughtered the imps right in the center of our fucking realm. If he somehow faked his own death, which is impossible since Masal’akra killed him in a public place with plenty of witnesses, there wouldn’t be anyone with him.”
Embers of Darkness #27
“Hi,” Kieran said. The scent of cut grass surrounded him as Kieran crossed the distance that separated him from Scheredin.
Scheredin smiled shyly. “Hi.”
“Is that all your stuff?” Brogan barked.
“I swear he’s normal at home,” Brexton remarked after greeting Kieran.
“Normal?” Brogan asked. “Why would I want to be normal?”
“Like D’Vaire normal,” Brexton replied.
“Speaking of D’Vaire, if Keladriel has everything, why are we still standing around here?” Brogan asked.
“This is everything; we can get going,” Kieran assured the antsy duke.
“Fair warning, you’re about to step into mayhem,” Brexton said. “No one really believes that if they’ve never been to D’Vaire, but everyone in our family is crazy…in like the absolute best way.”
“Like in a cake-obsessed, fighting ninja-kitten, magical dreams, freakishly awesome way,” Brogan tacked on.
“I’m intrigued and a little scared,” Kieran remarked.
“We’re going to throw a bunch of names and titles at you in rapid succession,” Scheredin warned. “Don’t worry if you can’t remember it all. I’ll help you however I can.”
“I’m counting on it. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s your duty as my mate. I read online that there’s a primer Council book so I can figure out how the government works. How difficult is it to get a copy?” Kieran asked.
“I don’t know that there is a written list of mate rules, but the book part is easy. We keep plenty on hand for sanctuary residents,” Scheredin said.
“I may have to write some mate rules,” Kieran teased.
“Dra’Kaedan and I keep a pro and con list. Might want to consider that too,” Brogan remarked. “You ready to cast that spell, Scher?”
“On it. Close your eyes, Keladriel, or you’ll get nauseated.”
“Okay, thanks,” Kieran said, his beast chaffing at being called by the wrong name. He did as he was told. A feeling of weightlessness registered under his feet, but seconds later Kieran was standing on something solid again.
“Here we are,” Scheredin commented. “I’ll show you to your room so you can put your stuff down, then we’ll introduce you around.”
Brogan opened one of the double front doors, and the beauty of the handcrafted wooden panels astounded Kieran. Inside was a short, wide hallway. Although Kieran could hear voices to his left, Scheredin directed him to another long corridor on the right.
The first thing Kieran saw was an enormous office space which belonged to the High Kings, according to the beautiful script above the glass entrance. Across from it was another space designated as a Nobles’ Den by a metallic plaque. Past that were private suites with more metal signs designating who called them home.
“This one is mine,” Scheredin said, pointing to one with his name on it. “I’ll show it to you later. Yours is farther down the hall.”
“Brex is right next to you,” Kieran observed.
“Yep, we’re very close. It’s kind of expected as a warlock and familiar, but unfortunately it doesn’t always work out that way. I’m glad Brex and I get along and that we have so much in common.”
“You’re both awesome,” Kieran told him and was rewarded with a smile.
“So are you,” Scheredin said, then opened a blank door to reveal a suite that was easily quadruple the size of any Kieran had ever seen. It was done in whites and creams, and the bright Arizona sun filtered through massive windows that showed off the beautiful high desert landscape.
“Wow,” Kieran breathed out.
“Yeah, the mansion is beautiful. The original D’Vaire dragons had it built, and although we’ve expanded on it, we’ve preserved the basic architecture of their design. I love it.”
“I don’t see how anyone could complain,” Kieran replied seriously. “I look forward to seeing more of it. But first, I want to meet your family.”
“Once you walked through those doors, you became a D’Vaire too, Keladriel. Around here, you’ll get corrected if you refer to them as my family instead of ours.”
“Okay. Keep reminding me in case I forget.”
“Another mate duty?”
“I’m afraid so,” Kieran said. “Time to scare me with a bunch of names I might not remember.”
Acting on instinct, he held out a hand, and Scheredin only hesitated for a heartbeat before placing his palm against the shifter’s.
“I could always slap magical name tags on their foreheads.”
“We won’t count that idea out,” Kieran replied as he was led out of the enormous suite to start his future as a D’Vaire.
Venerably Daray #28
“What if there was a way for me to become a normal fallen knight?” Samson asked the group. “You told me that Sorcery D’Vaire reunited you with your dragons, why can’t they escort mine back over the veil where he fucking belongs?”
“We can’t split your soul, Samson,” Drystan said. “SkeL Brynn is on his way.”
The excitement from Samson’s dragon nearly buoyed Samson’s mood, but he was too weary to garner any joy. Not only did he shift constantly, which depleted his body’s resources, but Samson couldn’t consume enough food to compensate, and he slept in quick bursts that left him exhausted. Whether it was because Samson knew Brynnius was arriving or his beast really was that attuned to the sentinel, the fallen knight swore he felt it the second the Skeleton Lord arrived.
When the door swung open, Samson’s knee slammed into the table as his dick grew hard and the delicious scent of chocolate chip cookies filled his flared nostrils. His beast exulted in their mate walking toward them, but Samson was pissed.
There was so much anger in him, Samson trembled with it. Samson clenched his teeth, and his eyes met Brynnius’s. Although the brown irises were attractive, as was the rest of the man, there was no surprise on Brynnius’s face.
“You knew. You knew this whole time, didn’t you?” Samson demanded.
The Skeleton Lord bobbed his head.
“Your senses were likely too muted to understand the day we met, but I was aware,” Brynnius said, his voice gentle. It soothed the rabid dragon, and that only further ignited Samson’s fury, which thankfully killed his erection.
“Aware of what?” Arvandus asked.
“He’s my fucking mate,” Samson yelled, his fingers curling into fists, which he slammed onto the table.
“Samson, take a deep breath,” Conley instructed softly.
The Reverent Knight rose and laid a hand on Samson’s shoulder, but it wasn’t welcome. Samson moodily shrugged Conley off and shoved his chair from the table. Once on his feet, Samson turned his back on the man with the caramel tresses hanging in his handsome face. Like Samson, Brynnius was broad shouldered, and the fallen knight couldn’t deny that he was attracted to him. His dragon didn’t like the way Samson was dismissing their mate, but that was too damn bad.
“Did you know I was here?” Samson asked.
“I found out a week ago,” Brynnius replied.
“Were you aware that they’ve run out of drugs to control me?” Samson bellowed. “Did you know my fucking dragon has been driving me insane, and it’s because of you?”
“I know you’ve struggled—”
“You have no fucking idea,” Samson shouted. “Where were you? Why didn’t you tell them or me that you were my mate?”
“I—”
“I don’t even fucking care. It doesn’t fucking matter,” Samson growled, and his dragon lost his shit. There’d been a few minutes of peace, but it was long gone as man and beast once again fought for supremacy.
“Samson, give Brynn a chance to talk,” Arvandus stated calmly, though Samson detected the undercurrent of irritation.
“He can say whatever the fuck he wants.”
“Not if you keep interrupting me,” Brynnius muttered.
“Just say it and go away,” Samson retorted.
His dragon was in full protective mode and wanted Samson to demand that Brynnius never leave so they could watch out for him, which was utterly ridiculous since the man was an immortal sentinel.
“When Drystan met Conley again, he decided that his mate should go through training without the added pressure of adjusting to a matebond,” Brynnius responded. “That is why I said nothing. I was using their example to guide my behavior.”
“Except neither of them were dealing with a fucking dragon who’s obsessed with you,” Samson roared and turned to face the group again.
There was a mixture of emotions on the faces around him, but none appeared friendly. It was impossible for Samson to be treated fairly in the situation. Arvandus lived with Brynnius and was mated to one of the Skeleton Seven, and both races had a cordial relationship. They knew Brynnius, and Samson was the new guy—one who’d caused them nothing but grief from the second he was resurrected.
“To be fair, Samson, you didn’t mention that your dragon has an interest in Brynn,” Conley said.
Samson’s jaw clenched, and he nodded furiously at the realization that his thoughts were right. They’d readily sided with their friend Brynnius and had no idea how the betrayal was settling into Samson’s mind. They might not have known, but Brynnius had understood their connection, and he’d ignored it.
Even Samson’s dragon was pissed at that; it was ironic that they often found accord on such tenuous and irritating things. Siding with Brynnius was a rejection as far as beast and man were concerned, and Samson had to wonder if Brynnius had kept quiet because he was ashamed that a revered Skeleton Lord was paired with a recruit whose only claim to fame was being unable to attend his classes.
The Fractured Fallen #29
Toby was staring aimlessly when there was a distant ding of an elevator. To his shock, his dick went rock hard, and the thick, pungent smell of honeysuckle filled his nose. His head whipped to the right, and he saw that a brown-haired man who was probably three or four inches over six feet was stalking toward him.
As the fallen knight moved closer, Toby admired his broad shoulders and the sexy smile on his handsome face. Within a few feet of Toby, the man’s grin grew broader, lighting up his hazel eyes. He was Toby’s mate, and Toby was elated, but frightened.
“Hi, I’m Gentry,” he said as he stopped next to Toby.
“I’m Toby.”
“I’ve always been excited about attending the retreat, but I had no idea I’d meet my mate here,” Gentry remarked.
Toby loved the light smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks. “It’s my first one.”
“You’ll love it. I’ll help make sure of that. The line’s moving,” Gentry remarked as he snatched Toby’s suitcase from him, flustering the fallen knight who was so unused to being noticed as anything more than a disaster.
“I feel like I’ve been standing here forever.”
Gentry leaned close, and Toby closed his eyes to better enjoy the honey and citrus scent of his gift from Fate.
“I got here super early so I could avoid this line,” Gentry explained.
“I’ll have to remember that in the future.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”
The confidence in his voice relaxed Toby, and he grinned at Gentry. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“We need to exchange numbers and coordinate our schedules for the week.”
“I guess you’re okay with the fact that Fate picked us to be together.”
With a nod, Gentry winked at him.
“You’re gorgeous, and I’ve always wanted a fallen knight for a mate. You get my job. We already have a ton in common even though we just met. But I want to learn everything about you. And I do mean everything.”
Although Toby had little sexual experience, Gentry’s flirting was obvious enough that he couldn’t miss his interest.
“I’d like to tell you everything,” Toby commented softly.
Forcing himself to look away from the pretty hazel eyes, Toby was somehow unsurprised by the twenty-three in roman numerals on Gentry’s shirt. It figured that he’d be paired with a possibly ancient and clearly remarkable fallen knight. His fear intensified, but Toby trusted Fate.
“You’re frowning. You okay?” Gentry asked.
“Yeah, I’m not a fan of lines,” Toby lied.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you registered and settled upstairs.”
There was something about the way Gentry had swooped right in and inserted himself into Toby’s world that appealed to him.
“You’re a protective person, aren’t you?” Toby asked.
“I do like to feed my friends and help them with whatever they need.”
Toby shuffled forward again as the line picked up a little speed and tried to handle the wealth of emotions racing through him. It was imperative that Toby set aside his issues and focus on how lucky he was. Not only was Gentry handsome, but he was also clearly interested. His smile didn’t falter, and although they knew nothing about each other, Gentry’s presence soothed.
“That’s good. I can’t cook.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you get to eat like a king. You’ll have to tell me all your favorites.”
“I’ve discovered that there isn’t much I don’t like, but I love a good steak.”
“Fate matched us perfectly. I can grill you one to perfection,” Gentry said.
“Next,” Venerable Knight Roman Calixtus called.
Toby was so lost in staring at Gentry that he hadn’t realized it was his turn. He fumbled to drag his identification card out of his pocket, and Toby handed it over to Roman, who greeted him warmly and asked if he required a key to a room in the hotel.
Gentry leaned close again. “You can share my room if you want.”
Everything was happening quickly, but Toby was ready to dive into their relationship . Fate had given him a gift, and Gentry was supposed to be his perfect match.
Toby grinned. “I’d like that.”
“Are you a bathroom hogger?” Gentry asked.
The Venerable Knight registering Toby looked away from his computer screen to study the pair when Toby announced he didn’t need a hotel key.
“I don’t think so. I pretty much limit my use to regular maintenance,” Toby assured Gentry.
“You two are going to share a room?” Roman asked.
“We just met, but Toby is my mate,” Gentry stated loudly.
Toby loved the confidence in his voice and latched onto it as a sign that his fear was unnecessary.
Roman smiled. “Congratulations. That’s wonderful.”
“Thanks,” Toby and Gentry said together, which made them both laugh.
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Monday's Mystical Magic
Jessamyn Kingley has published over thirty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, Jessamyn eagerly adds new tales to her D’Vaire series and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. Jessamyn shares a home in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her thick stack of beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.
Soul of the Imperian #26
Embers of Darkness #27
Venerably Daray #28
The Fractured Fallen #29
