ΰΌΊπŸ’“ πŸ’“ΰΌ» Out Now ΰΌΊπŸ’“ πŸ’“ΰΌ» Priestess of Storms & Stone by Annie Anderson Read the included Excerpt!!! @AnnieAnde

Priestess of Storms & Stone
Annie Anderson
(Rogue Ethereal #5)
Publication date: March 31st 2020
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

If there is one lesson I’ve been taught in my life, it’s that fairies are the absolute worst.

Finding a fledgling succubus in Faerie is like locating a needle inside a realm-sized haystack. With a guide I can’t trust and a goal more ephemeral than smoke, my odds of success are tenuous at best. Not to mention, as the last Elemental in existence, I have a giant target painted on my back.

Because one half of Faerie wants me dead, and the other half wants to use me as a sacrifice to open the gates to Earth. But I swore I would find my quarry, and I will. Even if I have to rip the entire realm apart to do it.

There is a storm coming to Faerie, and that storm is me.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

It was never a good sign to be drinking bourbon at ten in the morning, but after the week I’d had, I figured I was due. Self-medicating with alcohol wouldn’t take the sting out of my grief, in fact, it was likely to make it worse. But I’d needed a teensy little breather from my housemates after the last truth bomb had been dropped, and wrapping my head around my new knowledge required booze.

I could feel Della’s eyes on me, her acute vampire gaze boring a hole in the side of my face. She wanted an answer to her question, and she likely wasn’t going to leave me alone until I gave her one.

When are we leaving?

That question echoed against the walls of my brain with enough force to give me a headache. Melody was alive. She was alive, and my sister was dead.

But that didn’t make a lick of sense. Melody died right in front of me. I watched Aurelia send her soul on in a way only a phoenix could do. I watched her body burn in the flames of a funeral pyre. I needed answers before I could answer Della’s question.

Because I wouldn’t be leaving to hunt her down unless I was sure this wasn’t some kind of trick. I’d been tricked too many times in the last week, and I wasn’t falling for another one.

β€œMelody is dead, Della,” I whispered before taking another sip of bourbon, refusing to face my bodyguard. If I looked at her, I’d see either pity or censure, and I couldn’t deal with either.

β€œThen why is her son gone?” Della pointed out a big hole in the β€œMelody’s dead” argument.

Shit, fuck, and damn. I made a promise to Melody to keep her son safe. If it wasn’t Melody who had her sonβ€”and I highly doubted it wasβ€”then I’d have to go get him.

In Faerie.

Aces.

But hadn’t I earned a break? Hadn’t I earned the right to let someone else take up the slack?

You made a promise. You swore. You can’t turn away just because you’re hurt.

Those words cut through my thoughts sharp enough to bring tears to my eyes. I did. I made a promise to make sure her son was safe. And I’d keep it. Maybe it would make my soul burn just a little less. Maybe if I did this one thing, losing Maria wouldn’t hurt so bad.

Yeah, I doubted it.

I sniffed back the sting of tears, tossed back the rest of the bourbon, and managed to set the glass down without smashing it. I’d been on a smashing kick for the last little bit, and my living room had borne the brunt of it. At the time, I’d wanted to destroy everything Maria had ever touched. If I could just break it, burn it, wreck it, then it would have been like she wasn’t stamped all over every molecule of my house.

Wasn’t that stupid?

Like I wouldn’t see her every time I closed my eyes.

β€œOkay, I’ll give you that,” I muttered, finally answering Della’s question. β€œBut I can’t just bust down the door to Faerie and find her. If it is her. We need way more to go on than a note and a can-do attitude.”

I peered down at myself. I had on black shorts and a black tank top. It was good enough for summer in Denver. All I needed was some flip-flops. Had I brushed my teeth today? Shrug. Was I wearing a bra? My tank had a shelf bra in it. It would just have to do. Plus, Barrett wouldn’t give two shits about what I was wearing. I located my flip-flops in their spot by the door, shuffled my feet into them, and raised my hand to snap my fingers.

But Della pounced on my hand before I could complete the task.

β€œWhat?” My whole body was on red alert, my eyes searching my demolished living room and relatively untouched kitchen.

β€œYou can’t go out like that,” Della whispered furiously, her face a picture of panic.

Frowning, I looked back down at myself. Yep, all my parts were covered.

β€œIt’s summer. Shorts and a tank aren’t going to turn any heads no matter how much ink is on display.”

A dawning realization lit up Della’s face before she winced. β€œYou haven’t checked a mirror since you got back, have you?”


Author Bio:

Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life… interesting.

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