BLOG TOUR – EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT – Keeping House by Jeanne G’Fellers – #Excerpt #Giveaway
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🌟 Please join me in welcoming author Jeanne G’Fellers to Stories That Make You Smile! Jeanne is here today celebrating the release of their fabulous new book, Keeping House, book 2 in the magical Appalachian Elementals series. Jeanne has kindly brought along both an excerpt and a giveaway as well as a bonus exclusive excerpt! Pull up a chair and read on to learn more about this fabulous book! 🌟
Keeping House by Jeanne G’Fellers
Another rich Contemporary Appalachian tale about fantastic people and the magic they possess, including LGBTQIA+ characters Human and otherwise.
Series: Appalachian Elementals (book #2)
Publisher: Mountain Gap Books
Cover Artist: Jeanne G’Fellers
Release Date: July 8, 2019
Length: Long Novel / 130k words / 601 pages
Pairing / Genre(s) / Keyword(s): NB/NB LGBT Paranormal Appalachian Fantasy; Story contains lesbian, gay, trans, intersex, queer, and genderfluid characters; fey, witchcraft, multiple magic systems, Appalachia, elemental magic, time-shifting
It is not necessary to have read book 1 in the series before reading this one, but it doesn’t hurt. 😉
Warnings: depiction of mental illness including on page psychosis; discussion of gender dysphoria, cutting, and self-harm; discussion of rape and murder; on and off page violence.
Series Blurb
Come dance with the Appalachian fey and drink a little moonshine under the full moon while you hear Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Death share tales about families of our blood, families of our making, and magic both long ago and flowing through us now.
Book Blurb
Centenary Rhodes is caught in a deal she didn’t make. Thanks to her eternal lover, Stowne’s, quick thinking, she’ll live forever, but there’s a hitch. Cent’s now fey, and three months out of the year she’ll live on the other side of Embreeville Mountain among the Hunter Fey, serving their king, Dane Gow.
As Cent begins wading through the anachronisms that come with being a Hunter, she learns that nothing is what it initially seems. Cent shares several past lives with Dane, who wants her back, and Stowne’s lied to Cent so many times that she’s having doubts about their marriage. To make matters worse, the past Hunter Kings are influencing Dane’s behavior, and the youngest Hunter, Brinn, might well be the most dangerous of them all.
It’s going to be a cold, dark spring, and Cent needs to unite both sides of Embreeville mountain before her eternal life, her relationship with Dane, and her marriage to Stowne come permanently undone.
Another rich Contemporary Appalachian tale about fantastic people and the magic they possess, including LGBTQIA+ characters Human and otherwise.
Excerpt
I can do this. Cent unzipped the top of her coveralls and lowered her long johns to reveal the halter top beneath them. “Sorry, not sorry to disappoint you, King Dane.” She unfurled her wings and rolled her shoulders to shake them open.
“Just look at all them sigils.” Dane stomped her boots on the circle sands as she laughed, and her men laughed with her. “You look like a doodled-out scratch pad.” She removed her arm from her coat and rolled her sleeve above her bracer to show the sigils tattooed across her plaster-pale bicep. “All us Hunters got them, but ours won’t warsh off with a good scrubbin’, and neither will yours by the time you get back to Stowne.”
“Sigils remain intact even if they cannot be seen by the eye.” Cent’s spouse’s mouth thinned with the stress she knew they were feeling. “If the sigils are applied in perfect love and trust, that is. Rest assured, Centenary’s were.”
“Like I care.” Dane shoved her arm back into her coat. “It’s my turn, you worn-out gravel heap. That was our deal.” She lunged forward to grab Cent by the arm.
“Let go!” Cent wrenched away and moved to stand between Pyre and Exan, her elemental escorts. “I’ll fly with them.” She blew Stowne a kiss and stretched her wings, shivering. “Hold on.” She pulled a pair of striped leg warmers from her pocket and slid them over her arms. They were horribly outdated, but they’d been a cheap thrift shop solution, and she was glad she’d remembered them. Still, they weren’t enough for the current weather.
“Betcha she can’t keep up.” Dane’s guard, Conall, snorted and extended his hand to the guard with the dreadlocks. “Deal, Weeds?”
Weeds knocked his hand away. “Nothing to be gained there because you’re right.” He pulled a red wool chullo hat from his pocket and drew it over his head, topping that with a pair of ski goggles he lowered over his eyes. “She’s not going to get there without help.”
“Manners, boys.” Dane pulled a pair of leather Steampunk-style goggles over her eyes. “Best not judge until we see what she’s got under the hood. Come on. We’re late for a helluva shindig.” She laughed as she took to the air, hovering above the circle until Cent, Pyre, and Exan joined her. Her men took to the air behind them, Weeds pressing ahead while Conall brought up the rear.
We’re sandwiched in. Cent flew as hard as she could, hoping to lessen the distance between her and Dane, but it kept growing.
“Problem?” Conall flew up behind Cent as she struggled to keep speed. “Get movin’.”
“I’m trying!” Cent almost stopped mid-air to confront him, but Pyre grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her to the right so he flew past.
“Not a good idea.” Pyre hooked their smoky arm through hers, urging her along. “You’re cold.” They sent warmth into her, but she still shivered.
“Let us give you the energy to do this.” A thread of Exan’s black mass wrapped her left arm. “Come along.”
“What’s the holdup?” Dane flew back to face them. “Havin’ trouble keepin’ up, girlie?” She moved closer. “Guess Conall’s right after all. You need him to carry you the rest of the way?” Dane snickered when Conall returned to hover, scowling, behind her. Their beating wings stirred the air more than Cent’s, and her teeth chattered to the point she couldn’t hide it.
“I’ll get there.” But she knew she’d be struggling even with Pyre and Exan’s help, and she was so cold their warming energy wasn’t enough.
“You can’t, admit it.” Dane surged forward to grab Cent around the waist, forcing her wings to roll then tuck as Exan and Pyre’s grips fell away. “Your spirit form can fly, but your real wings are puny. Best hold on, or I’ll let you fall.” She turned Cent outward, holding her with one stout arm as they began to move. “Your eyes ain’t used to this cold and movement combined, so keep them closed until we’re— no. Hey, Weeds.” Dane slowed until he caught up along with Pyre and Exan, who both moved to see Cent’s face.
“I’m fine.” She blinked away the frost that’d collected on her eyelashes. “Let her do the work if she wants.”
“I got stuff to get done, or you’d be suckin’ up the rear, that’s all.” Dane motioned to Weeds. “Give her your goggles.”
“But— yes ma’am.” His dismay spread across his face as he pulled a scarf from his pocket, wrapping it around his head until only his eyes showed.
I’m making a great impression on him.
“Put them on, and let’s get movin’. Much longer up here and our wings’ll start freezin’.” Dane pulled Cent’s coveralls and long johns to her chest and opened her own coat to wrap her in it. “Damn rookie-ass flyer. Next time, wear a hat too.” Dane jerked her welding cap from her pocket, pulling it over Cent’s head as they gained speed.
Air whipped around them as they moved, and it began to sleet, pelting Cent with ice shards and freezing over her goggles by the time they touched down. “Someone get her a blanket!” Dane tore the goggles from Cent’s face and blew warm, tobacco-tainted breath in her face. “And somethin’ hot to drink!” Her voice softened. “You all right, sugar?”
“Let go!” Cent broke away and rushed to Pyre and Exan’s sides before they could fully manifest. “Dane’s being nice,” she whispered as she pulled off the leg warmers then raised her long johns and coveralls. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Take a deep breath and look around.” Pyre kept their voice soft and calm, which frightened Cent all the more.
“She means you no harm this night.” Exan wrapped their arm around her shoulders. “This is Dane’s kingdom, and she is in control of all you see.” They spun her around to view the nearly three-dozen pale Hunter faces, some clearly pissed by her presence, others amused, and a few too clouded in their expression to read, clustered around the bonfire she stood near.
“Welcome back to my world, Centenary Rhodes.” Dane bowed before her then rose wearing a mischievous smile. “Let’s get this party started!”
☆ Exclusive Excerpt ☆
One of the struggles Centenary Rhodes has in Keeping House is figuring out who wishes her harm and why. In this scene, things went horribly awry during her first night inside the Hunter kingdom and she’s been sleeping it off most of the next day, but now her fire elemental friend, Pyre, and her death elemental grandparent, Exan, are trying to wake her. This comes from Chapter Six: “A Well-Dressed Hangover.”
***
“Cent? You in there?”
“Come on, grandchild. You must wake up.”
My head. Cent rolled onto her side to draw her knees. “Water.” She’d only whispered, but it echoed in her head until she sobbed and that echoed too.
“She gonna be okay?”
“Aye, but her head’ll hurt fer days.”
“I swear, I’m gonna open a can of whup-ass so big someone’s gonna wish they was dead.”
“Where am I?” Cent’s world tilted left or was it right? Someone held a straw to her mouth and she sipped, thankful for the tepid water when it coated her sandpaper tongue. “What…”
A door slammed closed, and Cent groaned. “Where… what happened?” She opened her eyes enough to see Pyre’s burn. “Damn, you’re bright.” She clenched her eyes shut.
“No, I’m keeping it down.”
“They truly are.” Exan patted her face.
And Gods, you stink. But she had enough sense not to say it out loud. Exan could carry a hint of old decay on them, but right now it seemed wildly magnified. She was in a bed, this much she knew. She was warm too and… Oh, hell, I’m naked! “What happened?” She wriggled deeper into the quilts and pulled her pillow over her head. I’m dreaming, I’m—
“Yer hungover.” Someone pulled her upright and shoved a mug into her hands. “Get yer ass up. It’s nigh time for dinner an’ court.”
Cent pulled the quilts higher then cracked open one eye to see the tam-wearing man from the night before sat in a bedside chair, and he was chewing on the stem of a meerschaum pipe, his thick brows furrowed as he stared at her. He’d traded his kilt and quilts for Sunday-go-to-meeting overalls and a starched red and black plaid flannel shirt. “Ceardach?”
“Aye.” He pointed to the mug. “Drink that then yer gettin’ bitters.”
“I’m not… I wasn’t drunk.”
“Well, you were neither spelled nor compelled.” Exan joined Pyre at the end of the bed. “So that leaves drugs.”
“King Dane said the same.” Ceardach set his pipe on the nightstand. “She’s on a tear to find who gave them to ye.” He wrinkled his nose and pushed his fine, shoulder-length black hair behind his ears. “But Alexandria says ye asked her ’bout them.”
“I did no such thing. And I didn’t take any drugs.” Or did I? Much of last night was still a blur and… She sighed when his expression became blank. “I haven’t in almost a decade, okay?”
“We’ve gone over everything you ate and drank after we arrived.” Pyre further tempered their burn. “You had cake, hot tea, two swallows of Dane’s moonshine, a bottle of wine you opened yourself, and a hot chocolate with whiskey. Did any of it taste funny?”
“No, I…wait. The wine wasn’t open, but there was schmutz near the top when I twisted the cap. I thought it was dust where it’d been stored, so I wiped my hand on my pants and— I sneezed a little later and put my hand to my mouth. Ooh, then I rubbed my eyes after that.” Cent looked up, horrified when she realized where she was. Guns hung from a half-dozen racks, deer antlers were being used as clothing hooks, and welding caps were scattered everywhere. “This is Dane’s room!” She pulled the straw from the mug and downed most of the water, gagging as she pulled her blankets to her chin. “I’m awake. I don’t need bitters. Let’s go.”
Meet the Author
Born and raised in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, Science Fiction and Fantasy author Jeanne G’Fellers’ early memories include watching the original Star Trek series with their father and reading the books their librarian mother brought home. Jeanne’s writing influences include Anne McCaffrey, Ursula K. LeGuin, Octavia Butler, Isaac Asimov, and Frank Herbert.
Jeanne lives in Northeast Tennessee with their spouse and five crazy felines. Their home is tucked against a small woodland where they regularly see deer, turkeys, raccoons, and experience the magic of the natural world.
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Also by Jeanne G’Fellers
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