Release date: October 20, 2014
Someone
has kidnapped a nest of helpless baby gargoyles and is using them as
pentagram focuses, devouring their magic—and their lives—for a horrific,
illegal power boost. Swept into the dangerous underworld of black
magic, Mika Stillwater must cobble together her limited resources and
skills to have a chance at being the hero the baby gargoyles desperately
need. If she fails, the city will be at the mercy of the gargoyles’
murderers and their overwhelming destructive magic.But pitting herself against powerful black-magic villains is proving just as deadly for Mika as for the gargoyles.
Canada: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/
Magic of the Gargoyles has a special 50% off sale going on during the pre-order window, October 20th it will go to full price of $1.99
Rebecca Chastain is the internationally selling author A Fistful of Evil,
an urban fantasy novel. She has found seven four-leaf clovers to date,
won a purebred Arabian horse in a drawing, and once tamed a blackbird
for a day. She has been employed as a VHS sales clerk, bookshelf
straightener, government pseudo-employee, professional finder of lost
sporting goods, and strategy guide wrangler in the video game industry.
Dreaming up the absurd and writing stories designed to amuse and
entertain has been her passion since she was eleven years old, and she’s
incapable of stopping. She lives in northern California with her
wonderful husband and two bossy cats. To be the first to know about new
releases, sales, and freebies, sign up for Rebecca's newsletter: http://www.rebeccachastain.
Website: http://www.rebeccachastain.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/
With one last twist
of a filament of earth magic, I fused together the delicate seams of
the quartz tube. Slumping forward, I braced my elbows on the table
and rested my cheekbones on my palms, cupping my weary eyes in
darkness. Six down, six finicky tubes to go. The specifications of
this project taxed my substantial skills with quartz magic, which was
the point. This project would launch my business and prove that even
though I was only a mid-level earth elemental, my quartz skills were
equal to or better than more powerful full-spectrum elementals. These
fussy tubes would fund the down payment on the lease for the shop I
coveted in the Pinnacle Pentagon Center. I could finally quit my
demeaning job at Jones and Sons Quarry, be my own boss, and begin a
career creating one-of-a-kind quartz masterpieces I could take pride
in.
My
entire future rested on these fragile vials, and they were due
tomorrow at four.
Dull
pain pounded my back muscles. Night had crept over the city while I
worked, and my jerky movements as I stood and stretched were
reflected in the semicircle of bay windows in front of my worktable.
Purple smears of exhaustion beneath my green eyes were exaggerated in
the dark windows, and my pale face floated above a dirt-smeared navy
shirt. I checked the clock: almost midnight. Sixteen hours until my
deadline, and eight of those would be taken up by my Jones and Sons
workday. There was no time for a break. If anything, I needed to work
faster.
Groaning,
I redid my ponytail, tucking shorter wisps of strawberry blond hair
behind my ears before giving my hard wooden chair the stink eye.
Mentally chanting Pinnacle
Pentagon
to motivate myself, I reached for another seed crystal.
Frantic
tapping shook the glass in the balcony door. I pulled the door open,
knowing it was Kylie, my best friend and the tenant who shared my
second-floor apartment balcony. “I
really can’t talk. I need to finish—”
“Help!
Help! They’ve got—”
Something
small and hard slammed into my stomach. I staggered backward into my
chair and crashed to the floor. A small boulder skipped across the
wooden floor and smashed into the wall. I gaped at the open doorway,
stunned.
“You’re
a human!”
I
shrieked. The voice came from inside my room. I twisted, scrambling
onto my bed.
Against
the wall, the rock moved.
Beautiful
blue dumortierite quartz veined with green aventurine twisted into a
winged panther no bigger than a house cat. A pissed-off, solid-stone,
magical, winged house cat. A gargoyle—no, a baby gargoyle. A
hatchling.
Her
eyes glowed feverishly. Long polished blue claws gouged into the
floor when she launched into the air. Her agile stone wings unfolded
with a soft gritty sound.
I
lurched backward across the bed until I pressed into the wall. The
mattress shook when the hatchling pounced on the space I’d
just vacated. Sharp claws bunched in my yellow bedspread. She raised
her muzzle, mouth open, and sniffed the air.
I
eased toward the foot of the bed, readying my escape into the
hallway.
“It’s
you! Your magic smells so good. I thought—”
My
magic has a smell?
The
gargoyle’s
eyes darted to the open door, then back to me. She arched her stone
back and hissed at me, the sound dying to a hair-raising growl. The
tip of her stone tail slashed back and forth, gouging my wooden
headboard.
“I
need help.”
“My
help?” Gargoyles—even baby gargoyles—didn’t interact with
mid-level elementals like me, and they certainly didn’t ask for our
help. “There’s a full-spectrum just—” I started to point up
the street but froze when she snarled at me.
“No
other humans! Before it’s too late.” The gargoyle’s words were
smooth coming out of her rock throat, with just a hint of a lisp from
her tongue working around enormous teeth.
I
stared into her glowing blue eyes, seeing past the bared fangs and
agitated movements, reading her fear for the first time. I reached
for her, then pulled my hand back when she shied from me.
“Too
late for what?”
“You
can save him. Hurry!”
“Save
him? Save who? If someone is hurt, I can send for a healer.” Where
were this gargoyle’s parents?
“No.
I need you.” Large blue eyes implored me. “Please!”
A
thousand reasons I should find someone else to help the gargoyle
crowded my mind, but the hatchling’s
urgency was contagious. Someone was injured. I didn’t want to waste
time arguing with her, but was I really the best choice? I could work
earth, but healing usually took someone talented with all five
elements.
“Are
you sure you don’t want me to get—” someone
stronger? I
started to ask, but she cut me off with another sharp “Please!”
Gargoyles
were creatures without guile, and this baby was obviously terrified
for someone’s
life. If she thought I could help, I had to try. I took a deep
breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”
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