The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book #1
January 6, 2017
All Kat Montgomery wanted was a fun night out on
the town. What she got was a death warrant. As it turns out, the quaint little
hamlet of Mystic Harbor, Maine houses more than sandy beaches and adorable
B&B’s. Beneath the New England charm rests a deadly world where shifters,
demons, vampires, and angelic hunters all vie for power.
A world where magic is the greatest weapon.
Magic that Kat now possesses.
After that one fateful night, she can feel the
changes beginning to take hold of her. Only problem, she doesn’t even know what
she’s turning into. With threats hiding in plain sight, deciphering the lines
between friend and foe is nearly impossible. As if things couldn’t get any
worse, Kat learns her only real ally rests in the one person she can’t stand:
Reese Blackburn, an insufferably handsome magician whom the town fears most.
Kat’s very soul is at stake, and destiny doesn’t
seem to be playing out in her favor. Can these two unlikely partners challenge
fate itself before it’s too late?
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Curiosity got the better of me as I looked over
my shoulder, only to find the last human being I ever wanted to see heading
towards the back of the store. That familiar knot formed in my stomach, as it
always did anytime Reese Blackburn was near. I rocked back and forth on my
heels, trying my best to keep my patience in check as the old guy in front of
me continued buying virtually every lottery ticket available.
Come on, come on, come on. I needed to get out
of here. PRONTO.
Footsteps started making their way to the
counter from the back of the store, and I immediately deflated, knowing a
confrontation was now inevitable.
“Montgomery,” spoke a silvery voice directly
I regrettably turned to face the ass-hat in
question, giving him my best artificial, Pan Am smile. “Blackburn.”
The guy always looked like he’d just waltzed off
the set of a Tim Burton movie, and tonight was no different. He was dressed in
his typically peculiar attire, sporting a gothic knee-length horseman’s jacket
laced in chains, a pair of black slacks, a silk tapestry vest, and dark brogue
boots adorned with skulls on the metallic buckles.
“Never thought I’d see you south of Providence
Street,” he remarked in the sarcastic fashion he always saved for me. “Get lost
on your way to the country club?”
“No, I was actually out looking for your heart.
Should’ve known better that it’s long gone,” I retorted. “And what about you?
Never thought I’d see you out in public on a full moon. Get lost on your way to
your cult meeting in the woods?”
“That’s later in the evening,” he chuckled,
flashing me that dimpled smile and perfect set of pearly whites. Such
infectious, boyish charm seemed misplaced, considering he was stab-worthy. It
really was a shame, because Reese wasn’t half bad looking.
And by ‘half’, I mean not entirely.
Sure, he had cheekbones that could cut glass,
not to mention bedroom eyes so amber they looked to be stowing flames inside
them, but still… Okay, okay. Even I had to admit, Blackburn was hardly an
Even with my heeled boots, I still stood a good
half foot shorter than him, but his lean frame thankfully made him less
The old guy in front of me started ordering
cigarettes as well, causing my fisted fingernails to start biting into my
palms. Knowing how quickly our conversations always descended into verbal smack
downs, I grasped at anything I could think of to divert us back to small talk
until I could move to the register.
“Did you go to the game earlier?”
Reese shrugged. “I considered it, but then I
started thinking of other excruciating things I’d rather do, like have a root
canal, and I decided to pass.”
“You heading to the bonfire?” I tried again. He
merely cocked a brow, and I realized how ridiculous I sounded. “Oh, that’s
right. You don’t do anything fun. How could I forget?”
“If you call watching a bunch of drunken idiots
gyrate around and trash a field while you suffocate from smoke inhalation
‘fun,’ then yes—I don’t like fun.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to be normal, ya’ know.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Haven’t tried it.”
“So, Mr. High and Mighty, what superior plans do
you have this evening?”
“Test my alcohol limits, take off my clothes,
and harass innocent bystanders.” He thumped the side of his head. “Oh, wait a
minute. No, that’s your friends.”
“At least I have some.”
He stole a look outside and leered. “With friends like that, I consider myself
grateful that I don’t.”
“I probably shouldn’t. Wouldn’t want to get
“I beg to differ. Foaming at the mouth would
probably be an improvement for you. Anything to get you to stop talking.”
He smirked. “Touché, Princess.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
VICTORIA EVERS is a debut paranormal fiction
writer who feels really awkward referring to herself in the third person….
When she’s not vacationing in Narnia, you’ll probably find her reading,
watching horror movies, spending time with her AMAZING family, or daydreaming
about the newest story in her head.
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