Witch’s
Bounty
The Witch
Chronicles, Book 1
Ann Gimpel
Publisher: Taliesin
ISBN:
Release Date: 3/6/14
Genre: Dark Paranormal Romance
Word count: 63,000 words
A
demon-stalking witch teams up with a Sidhe, but their combined power, never
mind their love, may be too late to make a difference.
Book
Description:
One of only three remaining
demon-stalking witches, Colleen is almost the last of her kind. Along with her
familiar, a changeling spirit, she was hoping for a few months of quiet,
running a small magicians’ supply store in Fairbanks, Alaska. Peace isn't in
the cards, though. Demons are raising hell in Seattle. She’s on her way out the
door to help, when a Sidhe shows up and demands she accompany him to northern
England to quell a demon uprising there.
Duncan swallowed uneasy feelings when the
Sidhe foisted demon containment off onto the witches two hundred years before.
He’s annoyed when the Sidhe leader sends him to haul a witch across the
Atlantic to bail them out. Until he sees the witch in question. Colleen is
unquestionably the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Strong and
gutsy, too. When she refuses to come with him, because she’s needed in Seattle,
he immediately offers his assistance. Anything to remain in her presence.
Colleen can’t believe how gorgeous the
Sidhe is, but she doesn't have time for such nonsense. She, Jenna, and Roz are
the only hedge Earth has against being overrun by Hell’s minions. Even with
help from a powerful magic wielder like Duncan, the odds aren't good and the
demons know it. Sensing victory is within their grasp, they close in for the
kill.
I was given this book for an honest review.
Hmmmm. A very interesting story. It took a few to get all the history and characters in line and focus. Then it all fell together.
An enchanting story full of witches, demons and other magical creatures.
It also is a survivor story, which also turns into a love story. It was well written and intriguing. It held onto to you. Wondering what is going to happen.
It is full of twists and turns. The story does not give itself away. In the I mean, you cannot figure out what is going to happen.
I enjoyed the love, and sexual tension between the two main characters. It was steamy hot. Can they make their love work?
Is it meant to be??
A very, very, good read.
Enjoy <3
Excerpt:
…The bells around the
shop door clanged a discordant riot of notes. “Crap!” Jenna shot to her feet.
“I should have locked the damned door.”
“Back to cat form.”
Colleen flicked her fingers at Bubba, who shrank obligingly and slithered out
of clothing, which puddled around him. She snatched up his shirt and pants and
dropped them back into the canister.
“I say,” a strongly
accented male voice called out. “Is anyone here?”
“I’ll take care of the
Brit,” Colleen mouthed. “Take Bubba to the basement and practice.”
She got to her feet and
stepped past the curtain. “Yes?” She gazed around the dimly lit store for their
customer.
A tall, powerfully built
man, wearing dark slacks and a dark turtleneck, strode toward her, a woolen
greatcoat slung over one arm. His white-blond hair was drawn back into a queue.
Arresting facial bones—sculpted cheeks, strong jaw, high forehead—captured her
attention and stole her breath. He was quite possibly the most gorgeous man
she’d ever laid eyes on. Discerning green eyes zeroed in on her face, caught
her gaze, and held it. Magic danced around him in a numinous shroud. Strong
magic.
What was he?
And then she knew.
Daoine Sidhe. The man had to be Sidhe royalty. No wonder he was so stunning it
almost hurt to look at him.
Colleen held her ground.
She placed her feet shoulder width apart and crossed her arms over her chest.
“What can I help you with?”
“Colleen Kelly?”
Okay, so he knows who I
am. Doesn’t mean a thing. He’s Sidhe. Could have plucked my name right out of
my head. “That would be me. How can I help you?” she repeated, burying a desire
to lick nervously at her lips.
“Time is short. I’ve
been hunting you for a while now. Come closer, witch. We need to talk.”
***
Duncan Regis eyed the
grim-faced woman standing in front of him. She was quite striking with such
stunning bone structure—high cheekbones, square jaw—she could have been a
runway model. Her unwavering pale blue eyes held his gaze. Dressed in brown
wool slacks, a multicolored sweater, and scuffed leather boots, she had auburn
curls that cascaded to waist level. A scattering of freckles coated her
upturned nose. Her lips would have been full if they weren’t pursed into a hard
line.
He knew he was staring,
but couldn’t help himself. Colleen was tall for a woman, close to six feet,
with well-defined shoulders, generous breasts, and a slender waist that flared
to trim hips. He smelled her apprehension and was pleased she was able to cloak
it so well with the defiant angle of her chin and the challenge in her icy
stare.
Despite his earlier
command, she didn’t move. Annoyance coiled in his gut. He could summon magic
and force her, but he wanted—no, make that needed—her cooperation. Compulsion
spells had a way of engendering lingering resentments. He smiled, but it felt
fake so he gave it up. “I like women with spirit, but I’m used to being
obeyed.”
She frowned and tilted
her chin another notch. “I’ll just bet you are. I’m not coming one angstrom
closer until you tell me why a Sidhe is hunting for me.”
Surprise registered. He
tried to mask it, just like he’d attempted to disguise himself in a human
glamour. Duncan tamped down a wry grin, wondering if his second ploy had worked
any better than his first.
“Not really.” She tapped
one booted toe. “I read minds. You’ll have to do a better job warding yours, if
you want to keep me out.” Colleen exhaled briskly. “Look. Maybe it would be
easier if you just told me why you’re here. I’m sort of busy just now and I
don’t have a bunch of time to spar with you.”
“You don’t have any
choice.”
“Oh yes I do.” Anger
wafted from her in thick clouds. Along with it a spicy, rose scent, tinged with
jasmine, tickled his nostrils and did disconcerting things to his nether
regions. He resisted an urge to rearrange his suddenly erect cock. Colleen
unfolded her arms, extended one, and pointed toward the door. “Out. Now.”
“You’re making a
terrible mistake—”
“Maybe so, but this is
my turf. If you force me with your magic, you’ll have broken the rules that
bind your kind—and the covenant amongst magic-wielders.”
Duncan’s temper kindled,
but it didn’t dampen the lust seeping along his nerve endings. Rules be damned.
He could flatten this persnickety witch, or better yet, weave a love spell and
bind her to him that way. Maybe he should do just that and have done with things.
He clasped his hands behind him to quash the temptation to call magic. The
movement stretched his trousers across his erection, making it obvious if she
chose to look down.
Something dark streaked
from the back of the shop and planted itself in front of him, hissing and
spitting. Gaia’s tits. A cat. He stared at it. Hmph. Maybe not a cat after all.
Duncan reached outward with a tendril of magic. Before it reached the creature,
Colleen bent and scooped it into her arms. The not-a-cat wriggled and hissed,
but she held fast.
“Leave him alone,” she
said through clenched teeth. “He’s mine.”
Duncan narrowed his
eyes. “Damn if it isn’t a changeling. How’d he end up with you?”
Her foot tapped the
scarred wooden floor again, its beat so regular it could have been a metronome.
“I asked you a whole lot of questions.” She took a step backward. “But the only
one I want to know the answer to is—”
“What the fuck are you
doing?” Jenna wavered into view, having teleported in from somewhere. Her gaze
landed on the cat. “Thank Christ! For a minute there I thought the little
bastard got away from me.”
“Jenna,” Colleen
snapped. “The Sidhe have deigned to call.”
The other woman whipped
around and stared at Duncan. He stared back. What was it with these witches?
Had they taken some sort of potion to supersize themselves? She made Colleen
look positively petite. Jenna sidled closer to Colleen; part of her height came
from high heels, but she was still an imposing woman. “What does he want?” she
growled.
Duncan cleared his
throat. “I’m right here. You can ask me.”
“Fine.” Jenna put her
hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?”
“How do you know I want
anything?” he countered, trying to buy time to figure out what to do now. He
hadn’t counted on two witches, and a changeling.
“Because if you didn’t,
Colleen would have shooed you out of here by now. You really do need to leave.
We’re busy.”
He snorted. “Yes.
Colleen made that abundantly clear.” He looked from one witch to the other. At
least his erection was fading a bit. Crowds always had a dampening effect on
his libido. Many other Sidhe thrived on group sex, but he’d never appreciated
its appeal.
“Either tell us what you
want right now,” Colleen moved toward him, cat still in her arms, “or leave.
I’m going to count to three—”
“Maeve’s teeth, witch!
We’re on the same side.”
“Generally speaking,”
Jenna joined Colleen about three feet away from him, “that’s probably true, but
the Sidhe have never helped us.”
Colleen quirked a brow.
“No, they haven’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I have this prescient feeling that
Sidhe-boy here is about to ask for a pretty big favor.”
“Sidhe-boy?” The dregs
of his lust scattered; he crimped his hands into fists. “Show some respect.”
“You’re not respecting
me,” Colleen said. “I’ve asked you to leave—twice. No, make that three times.”
The not-a-cat finally twisted free. He skimmed over the distance to Duncan and
buried his claws in his leg.
“Why you changeling
bastard!” Duncan shook his leg. The thing didn’t even budge. He bent, curled
his hands around the furred body, and tugged. The thing bit him. Anger flashed.
Magic followed. The changeling howled and fell into a heap on the floor.
“Goddammit!” Colleen
shrieked. “He was just trying to protect me. If you’ve killed him…”
“I didn’t. He’s only
stunned.” Duncan rubbed his ankle, glanced at the puncture wounds on his hand,
and directed healing magic to both places.
Colleen sprang forward
and gathered the creature into her arms. Duncan felt her magic quest into its
small body. She blew out an audible breath. Cradled against her, shrouded by
her long hair, the changeling mewled softly.
Duncan shook his head.
He’d hoped to be subtle, accommodating, encouraging, so the witch would at
least hear him out with an open mind. The time for that was long past. “All
right.” He spread his hands in front of him. The flesh wounds on the one were
already nearly closed. “I’m here because we’ve had problems with Irichna
demons—”
“Christ on a fucking
crutch,” Jenna cut in. “Seems like they’re on everyone’s mind these days. We
were just—”
Colleen rounded on her.
“Shut up!”
“Oops. Sorry.” Jenna
held out her arms for the changeling. “I’ll just take him and—”
“No.” Colleen’s voice
was more like a growl. “You’ll stay right here.” She placed the changeling in
the other witch’s arms and turned to face Duncan. “I know you’re Sidhe, but who
are you?”
“Duncan Regis.” He held
out a hand. She ignored it, so he let it drop to his side.
“Regis, Regis,” she
mumbled, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Ruling class from somewhere in
Scotland.”
He nodded, impressed.
“Northern England, at the moment, but the border has moved around a bit over
the years. I do lay claim to Scottish roots. I didn’t know witches studied our
family lines.”
“Witches don’t, but I
did.”
“Any particular reason?”
He was almost sorry he’d asked. She had strong feelings about the Sidhe, and he
was about to find out why.
The changeling yowled,
obviously recovered from his semi-comatose state. Jenna cursed and set him
down. “Damn it! He scratched me.”
Duncan thought about
saying something cheery, like welcome to the club, but bit back the words.
Colleen rolled her eyes.
“He wants to talk. There’ll be no peace until he shifts.” She flicked magic
toward the creature winding itself between her booted feet. The air shimmered
and a rather large gnome took form.
He rocked toward Duncan
with a bow-legged gait that made him look like a drunken sailor; his open mouth
displayed squared off teeth. “I’ll tell you why she knows about you.” The
changeling drew himself to his full height of about three-and-a-half feet. “She
came to the Old Country looking for help during the last demon war. You Sidhe
were too high and mighty to get your hands dirty, so she had to settle for me.”
Colleen snickered. “Not
exactly the way I might have described it, but close enough. Hey, Bubba! Get
some clothes on.”
“Later,” the changeling
snapped without looking at her.
“Which of us did you
approach?” Duncan made the question casual. Whoever turned Colleen down had
broken the covenant binding magic-wielders to come to one another’s aid in
times of need. He wondered if she knew.
“Of course I do.” She
sneered. “Your thoughts are as transparent as a child’s. Even Bubba here,” she
pointed to the changeling, “does a better job masking his feelings when he puts
his mind to it.”
“Thanks.” The changeling
glowered at her before transferring his attention back to Duncan.
“What kind of name is
Bubba?” Duncan linked to the changeling, and was surprised by the complexity of
his thoughts. Maybe the witches had been a good influence.
“You didn’t have to just
push your way in.” The changeling screwed up his seamed face in disgust, but
didn’t draw back. “My true name is Niall Eoghan.”
“Clothes,” Colleen
reminded him.
Bubba made a face at
her, turned, and walked behind one of the display cases. When he emerged, he
wore wide-bottomed green trousers and a black shirt.
“Irish.” Puzzle pieces
clicked into place and Duncan transferred his attention back to Colleen. “You
never did tell me who you’d asked for help. It appears they not only turned you
down, but chased you across the Irish Sea.”
“We left voluntarily,”
Jenna said.
Colleen’s lips twisted
in distaste. Whatever she remembered apparently didn’t sit well. “We spoke with
two Sidhe at Inverlochy Castle outside Inverness. They refused to give us their
names, but said they were princes over your people. They heard us out and sent
us packing. Gave us twenty-four hours to leave Scottish soil.”
“I was all for staying,”
Jenna chimed in. “After all, we had passports.”
“Was it just the two of
you?” Duncan asked.
“Roz was with us,”
Colleen said.
Understanding washed
through him. “Three. You brought three to maximize your power.”
Colleen’s full mouth
split into a chilly smile. “We were under attack by the Irichna. Would you have
done any less?”
“Probably not. So after
we, that is, the Sidhe—”
“We worked fine,” Bubba
said flatly. “Unless you’ve decided to renounce your heritage.”
Duncan traded pointed
looks with the changeling. “Speaking of magic, you’re stronger than any
changeling I’ve ever come across.”
“That’s because you’re
used to our feeble Scottish cousins. They were stronger before you stripped
their magic and diverted it for your own purposes.”
“Enough.” Colleen
snapped her fingers. “Or I’ll change you back into a cat. We don’t need a
history lesson just now.” She shook her hair back over her shoulders. The
movement strained her sweater tighter across her breasts. Duncan dragged his
gaze elsewhere.
“About the Irichna—” he
began.
“We can’t help you,”
Colleen said flatly.
“Why not? We’d pay you
well.”
“It’s not a matter of
money, although I’m not sure you could afford us.”
“We have an, um,
previous engagement,” Jenna offered.
“Whoever it is, we need
you more than they do.” He looked from one witch to the other.
Colleen dropped her gaze
and rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index fingers. When she
looked up, the skin around her eyes was pinched with worry. “I’m not sure it’s
a matter of who needs whom more.” She speared him with her pale blue gaze. “Do
the Sidhe know why the demons are so much more active here of late?”
He debated how much to
tell her. Given her ability to burrow inside his head, it was unlikely he’d be
able to hide much. If he told her everything, though, it might piss her off.
Hell’s bells, it annoyed the crap out of him. “Not exactly.”
Her nostrils flared.
“You can do better than that. If you can’t, the door is behind you.” She folded
her arms beneath her breasts. “Talk now or leave now. It’s all the same to me.”
Ann Gimpel is a mountaineer at heart.
Recently retired from a long career as a psychologist, she remembers many hours
at her desk where her body may have been stuck inside four walls, but her soul
was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. Around the turn of the last
century (that would be 2000, not 1900!), she managed to finagle moving to the
Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains. It was during
long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing evolved. Unlike some who see the
backcountry as an excuse to drag friends and relatives along, Ann prefers solitude.
Stories always ran around in her head on those journeys, sometimes as a hedge
against abject terror when challenging conditions made her fear for her life,
sometimes for company. Eventually, she returned from a trip and sat down at the
computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel emerged. Oh, it wasn’t
very good, but it was a beginning. And, she learned a lot between writing that
novel and its sequel.
Around that time, a friend of hers
suggested she try her hand at short stories. It didn’t take long before that
first story found its way into print and they’ve been accepted pretty regularly
since then. One of Ann’s passions has always been ecology, so her tales often
have a green twist.
In addition to writing, Ann enjoys
wilderness photography. She lugs pounds of camera equipment in her backpack to
distant locales every year. A standing joke is that over ten percent of her
pack weight is camera gear which means someone else has to carry the food! That
someone is her husband. They’ve shared a life together for a very long time.
Children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out their family.
@AnnGimpel (for Twitter)
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