Noble Charms is out & Noble Pursuits is underway!
Last Wednesday, Noble Charms went live. I ended my preorder campaign with 73 orders, which was more than I could have asked for. I still can’t believe so many people took a chance on my debut. If you’re one of them, thank you so much!
And if you’re still interested, you can grab a copy here.
Some of the copies I signed and shipped!
Since then, I’ve seen a decent amount of progress—I’m about to cross 6,000 KENP (page reads on Kindle Unlimited). To be clear, that’s not an outrageous number. It may even be slightly below average? But it’s more than my wildest expectations and I’m so grateful. 🙏
Aside from saying THANK YOU again, I also come to you with a sneak peek into Noble Pursuits! That’s book 2 in Noble Fates & Fortune. The series in general will be a set of standalones—you won’t need to read one to understand the other. There will be small cameos of characters here and there, but nothing you’ll misunderstand.
Where Noble Charms was inspired by When Harry Met Sally, Noble Pursuits is a retelling of Runaway Bride. We have a bratty elven prince and a stoic disgraced orc knight. They’re both sort of mean, which has been so fun to write after Noble and Aria (my two sweet babies).
Prince Luca, the runaway “bride” and very pretty boy (except that he’s 30).
I have the prologue semi-edited and I wanted to share it here. The story begins with Luca at age twenty and chapter one will jump to Velk ten years down the line. I hope you enjoy this lil snippet!
Noble Pursuits
Prologue: Luca’s Curse
Of all the stupid ways he could meet his end, drowning was the one that stood separate from the rest. He’d sooner have his heart stop whilst tongue-deep in a nobleman’s backend. He’d sooner be pierced by his own sword on a slippery field. He’d sooner trip before a hearth and fall into its roaring flames.
No, Luca refused to die to the sea.
The idea was so powerful in its humiliation that it gave power to his failing legs. He kicked harder, through the ice cold sea, pulling free from the grasping hands of the Dead Tide pulling him back below. He wouldn’t go out like this. Anything but this.
He was born on the ocean—well, on a cliff above it, to be specific—and had never known a life outside the salt brine air. These waves held him like a mother when he did not have one. He learned to swim before he learned to walk. He was the strongest damned swimmer in the court.
He broke the surface, through the white foam spray, and gasped for air in the split second he had before the many ghoul hands found him again and tugged him down. That one second was enough, though. His hands formed the necessary shape to cast the spell that would save his life.
He exhaled, summoning his strength, and called to the magic the way all elves could. The golden veil of the arcane blinked weakly around him, obscured by bubbles and debris.
Turn.
A spell to make the Dead Tide truly dead again. Unmoving, bloated corpses, freed from the orc goddess Rejisa’s curse that made any ocean-felled man, elf, orc, or horn-bearer a flesh-seeking ghoul.
The moment between the cast and the result stretched like something unnatural and gummy clogging the innards of a clock. Luca’s eyes sought the surface again, and saw the winking white flash of the sun as it split the near-constant cloud cover. He would not die like this. Rosint would not have him on this day. Not in his ocean. Not on his ruined wedding day.
The spell worked.
The tugging, grasping hands vanished all at once, and Luca was suddenly so buoyant that he hit the surface before he realized he’d done so. He threw his head through the waves, and gasped for air. He’d made it out. And he had a minute to make it to the rocky cliffs before the Dead Tide returned.
Even breathless and fatigued, he could swim. The motions came to him naturally, like a second nature. Easier than casting magic, at least. He sliced through the water, more fish than elf. He was luname—a moon elf—and not a marelfine—a sea elf—but none would know it by the way he moved. He reached the slick craggy cliffside and used both hands to pull himself onto it, careful to balance against the wet stone. The first long edge he reached was just wide enough for him to turn and collapse onto his ass, sucking in his lost breath. He faced the sea that had always been an ally, gazing through his wet, dark curls, at the wet, dark waves.
The betrayal of the ocean in that moment was worse than the betrayal of his betrothed. Attempted murder twice in a day. The message was clear: Luca needed to change his life in some way. There was a lesson to be learned from this, he thought, shivering at the water’s edge.
He knew what he had to do.
Luca tore his gaze from the ocean and up the cliffside, where his wedding party awaited in the courtyard, no doubt confused about his absence. Have you checked the baths? Someone would ask.
Have you checked the beds? Someone else would joke. Not his bed. The bed of his knights. And everyone would laugh.
Luca’s heart withered. Then pulsed. Because it was a good joke. He was a riot.
And he was about to incite one. Accusing the beloved Duke Ash of the Fellowship Elves of near-murder? And he’d be able to prove it, too. Ash made the mistake of putting his intentions in writing—
Throw him to the sea. We’ll say he fled. He’ll never be found with the Dead Tide down there.
You’ll have half my prize, his kingdom—half the Uncursed Mines.
Recounting it lit a fire enough to keep Luca warm as he climbed the rocks up and to the right, making his way to the more stable boulders, and the roots of the enormous trees that would guide him back home. To the Spider Court.
Ash had not counted on one thing. An important secret—one Luca now vowed to keep to himself for the rest of time, because if he couldn’t trust a husband, who remained?
Luca had crafted a spell to counteract the Dead Tide without an Uncursed Stone.
And none would know what Luca could do. None would know Prince Luca at all. As he made it to the trees, numb from the cold and his rage, he thought of a new curse that paired perfectly with what Rejisa had done centuries ago.
He’d never love anyone who came to his island through the traitorous, treacherous sea.
I suppose I can close this out by sharing a lil bit of planning. Nothing’s set in stone, but I’m hoping to have this drafted by October 31st, edited by December 31st, and released on March 2nd. Lend me your strength to get it done…
That’s all for now. I’ll post an update soon, hopefully. ily! Bye!