Thank you, Lisa and The Novel Approach, for allowing me to share the cover for my upcoming release, Nudging Fate! This book is part of Dreamspinner’s Dreamspun Beyond house line of paranormal category romance, and is another of my “paranormal romantic comedies.” The cover design is by Aaron Anderson, who’s done the covers for all the Beyond titles. Thanks, Aaron!
Nudging Fate hits the virtual shelves on May 15th!
~E.J.
About the Book
Not exactly a match made in Valhalla.
Half-norn event planner Anders Skuldsson is under strict orders from Asgard not to meddle with Fate. But with Enchanted Occasions’ latest booking—a competition for the hand of Faerie’s one true prince—crashing around his ears, it’s really difficult to toe that particular line. But if Andy pretends to be a contender for the prince…. It’s only temporary, so Odin can’t blame him. Right?
Conall of Odstone’s half brother, Prince Reyner, was supposed to choose a mate before being crowned and wed. But the idiot left Con to impersonate him. Again.
When Con meets Andy, his anger turns to desire… and despair. Even if Andy forgives him for his imposture, how could someone eligible for a prince’s hand settle for the court outcast? And the double-deception isn’t their only obstacle. Unless Andy makes the right choice, their fates could be sealed by… well… Fate.
Available for Pre-order Now at Dreamspinner Press: eBook || Paperback
Exclusive Excerpt
Anders Skuldsson took a last swing through the intimate dining room in the royal suite, but couldn’t find a single thing to criticize. The linens were spotless, the china gleamed in the candlelight, subtle music—Faerie’s Greatest Hits—spilled from the speakers.
Outside past the terrace, pastel fairy lights twinkled in the trees surrounding the private royal garden. Some of the fairies in question were a tad disgruntled over the gig, but it was hard for them to find union work these days.
The breeze from the open french doors was exactly the right temperature, strong enough to riffle the sheer drapes but not disturb a single rose petal in the centerpiece.
His chest expanded until he felt he could float above the plush carpeting. This suite, the garden, the woods, hadn’t even existed last week when his staff had moved in to set up for the event. In Interstitial spots like this resort, the “enchanted” aspect of Enchanted Occasions Event Planning was actual and not metaphorical. Because in the Interstices—the pockets in reality where worlds met—magic from all supernatural realms could coexist. Even the Earthside “magic” of technology functioned in the Interstices, a factor Enchanted Occasions exploited to their benefit.
After over a year with no supernatural bookings, they’d pulled out all the stops, because this event could make or break the company. And for some reason, the client—the Faerie Queen herself—had insisted on Andy, half-norn and cosmic screwup, as the senior coordinator on-site. Mikos, Andy’s boss, had agreed without a blink.
Given Mikos’s trust, not to mention the brilliant work his staff had already turned in, Andy was determined—determined, damn it—to make this shindig a success.
He tapped his earpiece as he stepped onto the terrace. “Hey, Brooke. All ready for the start of the Great Consort Race?”
“Don’t let Mikos hear you call it that.” His half-undine second-in-command sounded as if she were standing right next to him. Smith, their tech demon, had outdone himself with this new gear. “It’s ‘The Courting, Coronation, and Handfasting of His Royal Highness Reyner of Maidencourt, the One True Prince of Faerie.’”
“Don’t remind me.” Hadn’t their graphic designer had a party fitting all that on the invitations—especially considering the invitations were actual oak leaves. “Have all the candidates arrived?”
“Yup, and settled in their suites. The ifrit has a fire pit on his balcony and a fireplace in his suite big enough to roast a hippogriff. The… the… yoosfart and dookfart—”
“Ljósálfar and Dökkálfar, you doofus.” Andy trotted down the wide stone stairs into the garden, chuckling at Brooke’s perennial pronunciation failure—and imagining her glare in response. “Just say light elves and dark elves. They’ll look down their noses at you for it, but they do that to everyone all the time. Don’t take it personally.”
“Whatever. Anyway, their rooms are on opposite sides of the resort, as far away from each other as possible.”
“Excellent.” He paused next to the stream, expecting to see a flash of bright scales under the water. “Did you tell the undine about the river access from her bathroom?”
“I tried. She didn’t want to hear it from me.”
Andy winced. “Aw, sweetie. I’m sorry. You know I’d spare you that kind of crap if I could.” All the Enchanted Occasions staff were HAHs—half-and-halfs, aka aitchers—blends of human with one or more supernatural races. Interacting with Pures was always chancy for aitchers who shared the same blood. Some Pures took the aitchers’ mixed heritage as an excuse to act more like jerks than normal.
Not that Andy had any feelings about that.
“Oh well.” Brooke’s nonchalant tone didn’t fool Andy one bit. “She has only herself to blame if her scales dry out.”
Andy huffed a laugh. “Be serious. She’ll blame me, of course. Don’t you know it’s always the norn’s fault?”
“That’s not fair.” Brooke’s tone took on a militant edge. “You shouldn’t be everyone’s scapegoat just because they’re entitled assholes.”
“Don’t worry. I’m used to it.”
“Andy—”
“Hey, if it makes them happy and gets us through this week successfully, I’m good. This is our one chance, Brooke. Our chance to repair our reputation after the disaster of the Olesson-Pakulski wedding.” Andy still had nightmares about that. It wasn’t really Enchanted Occasions’ fault that the bride’s uncle had mistaken the groom’s grandmother for part of the reception buffet—Andy could have told them that a mating between a vila and a goblin was tempting Fate. Nevertheless, when EO accepted a job, they accepted responsibility for its success. It was their absolute guarantee.
This time since Andy was in sole charge, any failures would most definitely be his fault, and everyone knew you didn’t screw up with the Faerie Queen. She had no sense of humor and absolutely no mercy. She’d turned her own consort into a wyvern, for sweet Fate’s sake, so she’d have no trouble relegating Andy and the entire Enchanted Occasions staff to something even less appealing—probably involving a large number of warts and a notable lack of opposable thumbs.
About the Author
E.J. Russell–grace, mother of three, recovering actor–writes romance in a rainbow of flavors. Count on high snark, low angst and happy endings.
Reality? Eh, not so much.
She’s married to Curmudgeonly Husband, a man who cares even less about sports than she does. Luckily, C.H. also loves to cook, or all three of their children (Lovely Daughter and Darling Sons A and B) would have survived on nothing but Cheerios, beef jerky, and satsuma mandarins (the extent of E.J.’s culinary skill set).
E.J.’s paranormal romantic comedy, The Druid Next Door, is a 2018 RITA® finalist. She lives in rural Oregon, enjoys visits from her wonderful adult children, and indulges in good books, red wine, and the occasional hyperbole.
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Thanks so much for unveiling the cover today!