Series: The Lost Princess #1
Publication date: December 1st, 2020
Synopsis:
Magic is sacred, but real love is divine.
To save them from the Guillotine a spell is cast, and Marie-Therese Charlotte of France, daughter of Marie Antoinette, is changed into an owl, her brother, the young dauphin, into a golden stag. The old gypsy witch who repaid a blood debt by saving their lives, takes the princess's memories and names her Velvet. For eight years Velvet exists safely wrapped in the spell. On her eighteenth year, rumors of her life reach the ears of King George III. In a bout of fearful madness, he orders the death of the French heirs. When soldiers torch their camp, Velvet and her brother, are forced to run for their lives.
Nora Hardington, a young woman on a mission into the dangerous underbelly of London, finds Velvet wounded and dying. Risking her own life, she rescues Velvet. Together, they enlist the help of the dark stranger sent to carry out the king's command. As they search for the spell to return her brother's humanity, Velvet lives all the sides of life she was previously denied.
Her adventures are fraught with assassins, pirates, ancient enchantments, bloody battle, mythical lore, and all manner of dastardly love.
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Excerpt
Nora smiled. She would have said more, but the door banged against the wall so hard the top hinges creaked miserably, then gave way. A huge, dark form filled the entrance dominating all the space. The light from the street lamps bounced off the silver knob on the hood of his tricorne and turned it to a glowing coal that illuminated his eyes, the only things visible on his masked face. In one hand he held a sword, in the other, the metal of a cocked pistol glinted like polished starlight. He took a step toward them, and Velvet jumped to her feet pushing Nora behind her.
"Why?" Velvet asked him, not retreating when a single stride of his long legs brought him closer. "Why are you doing this? Leave me alone. I've done nothing to you or your kind."
"You can't live," the dark figure said. "One life to save thousands... we must have peace."
"If that were true I would willingly bare my neck for your knife," Velvet said.
"It is the truth," the dark voice replied.
"So you say," Velvet said. "I mean nothing to anyone, so I cannot see how my life or death matters."
The masked man lunged for her so fast, Velvet had no time to react, his hard fingers closed around her arm. He squeezed her knife wound, and pain jolted through her frazzled nerves. Velvet lashed out, blindly enraged. Her nails caught the stubbled skin above his collar and scored long, bloody groves down his neck. He grabbed her arm, twisted it up behind her back. It was like someone had pinioned her wings--gods of earth and sky--she missed her wings!
Screeching her alarm Velvet freed her right arm, and her hand whipped across his face, half-blinding him by her cutting nails.
His sharp green eyes widened in shock at her attack. The man stumbled back. Behind the cloth mask she saw his lips start to move as if he would speak. Velvet was not listening. She arched her body, tensed her foot, and drove the heel into his shin. The kick sent him staggering, he slung his massive arms around her waist--she felt caught between a boulder and a bar of iron. Every second of agony, fear, and loss rose inside her like a dark cloud, the color of her anger obscured vision and rational thought fled.
She heard herself make a disorienting snarling nose, and kicked him again. He cursed loudly, stumbled and fell. Velvet felt her balance give way as his arms tugged, dragging her down atop him, and she screamed in panic as they crashed to the floor.
His body felt like an open blaze through the thin silk of her dress, his finers stunning brands on her hips and waist. Velvet could hear his harsh, panting breaths in her ear as she kicked and writhed. There was an echoing thunk when the black of her skull connected to his hard head. Stars obliterated her vision. His hold around her waist slackened, Velvet bucked again, won her freedom, and rolled off his big body with a garbled shriek. She scrambled to her feet and made fists of her hands, ready.
About the Author:
Author, dreamer and wild child extraordinaire: JP Roth is an American Novelist, and owner of Rothic comics, founded in 2012, through which she has produced and published five of her original series. JP Roth in California with her beautiful family, and their adorable Bichon Frise. Her days are spent writing fanciful stories, walking on the beach, and attending comic conventions across the globe. While JP Roth enjoys travelling to exotic locations, she admittedly prefers to stay home, wrapped in a soft fluffy blanket, drinking tea and penning her next novel.
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