This Supernatural Summer is slowly winding to a close but its spell lingers still. One season’s magick spiralling out, transforming, changing into another’s. Titania the Summer Queen and Mabh, Queen of Autumn stand on either side of a meadow, walk toward each other, exchange greetings. Lyrical pleasantries from Titania ring like birdsong, while Mabh’s subtle barbs dust a chill in the air. Lightning flashes, flowers ripen to fruit, and the season begins to change.
You, a mortal, can sense it—this Faerie negotiation: warm days slip into cool evening; the scent of barbeque in the afternoon turn to the tang of wood smoke at night; bright skies yield to crisp breezes. Floaty summer dresses slowly give way to the comforting wrap of a favourite sweater. Green shades toward gold. Sparkle turns to glimmer. A different kind of magick stirs, wakens…
But not yet! The walls between the worlds haven’t parted like veils—not quite yet—but they’re thinning. In places… in parks, on a beach, or in the woods… you might still catch glimpses of Summer Fae dancing their last few dances of the season. But at dusk, they’re starting to vanish—leaving the forests to the hunters and their hounds.
Still…while it lasts, enjoy the last enchanted DARKLIGHT days of this Supernatural Summer; the in-between time where, by day, you can still read a good book on a beach… or, by night, curl up with it next to the hearth.
I’ve had a lot of readers ask me, “Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?” Which to me translates to “I’ve been writing forever, and I want to do this for the rest of my life.” That’s understandable and I applaud them, but most writers have more than writing skills at their fingertips. Most have come to writing after a list of varied jobs ranging from Vegas Show Girl to Financial Trend Analyst, though admittedly not in the same person.
I’m no different, and my pre-publication job credits include a more modest Vet tec (where I learned how to be brave), Owner/Manager of licensed Day Care (where I learned to work with temperamental, strong-willed people), Office Assistant (where I learned how to type), and my favorite: running live animal trap lines, tagging and releasing chipmunks and mice (where I learned about my limits and how to push through them).
I’ve heard from a lot of readers since The Body Finder was published in March, and YES, I’m totally listening! Some have told me that they were happy Violet’s parents were involved in her life, while others have said they liked how there weren’t any bloodsuckers, howlers, or other creatures that go bump in the night. Some readers were glad to find out that Jay was a “nice guy” and liked that there was no love triangle in the book.
Getting emails from readers is one of my favorite things about being an author, so please keep ’em coming—I love hearing what you think! Of course, haters need not apply. (Fine, haters can apply, too, but don’t be surprised if my spam filter “accidentally” deletes your emails.)
But all this feedback has me thinking about what readers are really looking for, and as a reader myself, I think I’ve finally figured it out.
Necromancer. It means you can make the dead come alive. And that’s just what Chloe Saunders does in Kelley Armstrong’s explosive THE DARKEST POWERS series, which includes The Summoning, The Awakening, and the newest, final installment The Reckoning. And then there’s Chloe’s friends, the witch, the sorcerer, the werewolf . . . well together, they’re a supernatural powerhouse.
Learn more about Chloe’s world or grab your cell phone and text NECROMANCER (now that you know what it means) to READIT for a sneak peek into Chloe’s reality.
And as if that wasn’t enough, bestselling author Kelley Armstrong has a brand new series: DARKNESS RISING. It’s set in the same world as DARKEST POWERS but has a new heroine, more supernatural powers, and much more romance. Excited yet? Check out an exclusive sneak peek from the first installment in the series, The Gathering.
My husband’s idea of a supernatural summer is Paul the psychic octopus (yes, he really does exist) correctly predicting the results of the soccer World Cup, but we know better, don’t we….?
Mmm . . . supernatural summer . . . just those words alone send a tingle down my spine. I sense mystery, magic, danger, suspense, romance – especially romance!
And golden summer days, full of sunshine and dreams and long hazy nights.
As an English writer it is such an honor to be published in the US by the wonderful people at Harper, but any of you who have ever visited England will know that we don’t always have great summer weather on this rainy little island. But one magical year, when I was about sixteen, we had endless days of sunshine that seemed to last all the way from May to September. I remember wearing the skimpiest of little cotton dresses and denim shorts, and listening to summer love songs on the radio, and having picnics with my friends down by the river, surrounded by tall grasses and scarlet poppies, the buzzing of bees and the glitter of dragonflies. I remember lying in the fields on hot, hot afternoons, the book I was reading discarded in favour of daydreams, and I remember looking up at the high blue sky and wishing that moment could last for ever. It didn’t of course, but the memories of that summer did. The memory of my first proper boyfriend, who was dark and gorgeous and kind, and who played in a totally cool band. The memory of him playing his guitar and singing specially for me. The memory of driving to a gig with him in a white Lotus sports car upholstered in red leather. (Why did I ever let him go?!)
We had it worked down to this: the girl he liked was short, blonde, in Mrs. Bennion’s class, and her name started with a K. We both knew he was talking about me, and we both knew I liked him, too, but we were twelve, and this was how the game was played as we sat side by side, not touching, waiting for our team’s turn to perform.
“Well,” I said, trying to keep my butterflies down, “What color are her eyes?”
He frowned, but didn’t look over at me. “I don’t know.”
And just like that, the butterflies died a horrible, smashing-into-the-windshield-on-the-freeway death. He didn’t know what color my eyes were? He was supposed to like me, have a crush on me, prefer me above all others in our twelve-year-old world, and he didn’t even take the time to notice that my eyes were green?
There was a blinding flash of light as if my entire world was exploding.
Three teens. Disaster in a mysterious desert. And the next morning…a return to their ordinary lives with everything just as it was before. Or is it?
New York Times bestselling author Faye Kellerman teamed up with her talented teen daughter, Aliza, to write this gripping paranormal thriller.
Escape the summer heat and step inside the fascinating alternative world of Prism to watch this mother-daughter duo on video, listen to their podcast, take the “spills kills” quiz, and more!
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