Frostbite Book
Three
Urban Fantasy
Romance
ISBN:
9781301901340
Length: Novel
Heat Level:
Sensual
Release
date: January 31, 2013
Price: $2.99
Tess Jennings’
life is in chaos. Her ghost lover, Kipp McGowen, vanished into the Netherworld
without a trace. Now, she finds herself in White Castle, Louisiana, surrounded
by the Animus—a secret society of the supernaturally gifted. To make matters
worse, they present her with an offer she cannot refuse.
If she helps
solve the murder of their Grand Master, they will assist her in saving Kipp.
Soon, Tess will land herself lost in another mystery she doesn’t want. But she
will have to trust her enemies to gain what she most desires—a life with Kipp.
Only problem?
People are hiding secrets and dark pasts. Tess will soon discover that nothing
is as it seems. She might want to save Kipp from his ghostly state, but someone
has decided it’s better for her to join him…
*********
Ms. Stacey is
one author that you ladies and gents should be use to seeing here at the
Lair... Her work is just... well.. spellbinding! She is one of those authors
that can write up fantasy stories and I will eat them up. She captures the
essence of all things that should go bump in the night and turns them into
stories that I can't seem to get enough of! Mystically Bound is not
exception... In fact... she is continuing a story that has captured my attention
for a three books now and she is killing me!
Okay, the
short of the review.... Stacey, you are getting a spanking for leaving me
hanging.... A long spanking young lady!! You left me completely hanging by the
skin of my teeth. You are a very naughty, evil woman! The. End.
Okay, I hope I
left you hanging like this evil woman left me hanging! But I will have
compassion for you and give you the review you are here for...
Stop now if
you don't want to read any spoilers..... I normally don't do spoilers.... But I
have one in this review!
Stacey did it
again. This story picks right up where book two left off. Tess and Kipp solving
cases, helping ghost and trying to live a normal life.... But there is one
little problem with that plan.... Kipp is still ghost form, he hasn't gone back
to his body yet... And Tess is no closer to figuring out how to get him back
than she is to the new mystery she was asked to help solve...
Tess is trying
to help solve the murder of the Grand Master but things just are not going her
way and it is starting to piss her off. And I don't blame her. I mean
seriously, how much can one woman take. But now, Tess is knee deep in mystical
crap that she is not sure which way is up anymore... And the fact that Kipp has
stayed away from her for a good part of this book makes me wonder what kind of
danger is Tess really in....
This story
will leave you on the edge of your seat... I promise you that. Stacey will
bring you so far down south (you will swear I brought you back home to
Louisiana myself, lol!) that you will be sweating from the humidity. Oh and the
suspense... But I think the suspense will kill you first! Stacey does a
wonderful job at bringing these characters to life and making you wish you
could jump in and help Tess and Kipp out!
Stacey, you
know I can't wait for the next one!!! You are evil, but deliciously wicked so!
Actually, you are wickedly spell bindingly magical!
Here is a teaser!
Copyright ©
STACEY KENNEDY, 2013
All Rights
Reserved, Stacey Kennedy.
Chapter One
Find our ghost,
and we’ll help save Kipp.
One statement
took my already upside down world, spun it in a new warped direction, and sent
hot slivers of frustration through my veins. Another mystery didn’t interest
me. My to-do list toppled with one important checkbox to mark off: find my
ghost lover, Kipp McGowen, and return him to his comatose body.
I glanced
sideways at my friend, Gretchen. Her cinnamon-colored hair swept over the side
of her face, deepening the grayish tones in her blue eyes. “Did I hear that
right?”
She nodded
tightly. “You did, and they’re waiting for your answer.”
What if I didn’t
want to answer? What if I didn’t want to help anyone else? Hadn’t the time for
someone to assist me—without my having to return the favor—been earned? Yet,
here I stood in White Castle, Louisiana, presently cornered to use my gifts to
communicate with the dead.
Couldn’t someone
cut me a damn break?
Blowing out a
frustrated breath, I scanned the mansion. Its fancy furniture, dating to the
nineteenth century, had an overall charm with gothic detail and rich crimson
fabrics. Even the scent of a spicy potpourri portrayed comfort. Sadly, the two
people—excluding Gretchen—who currently awaited my answer, didn’t look
friendly. Especially the crotchety man in his early forties, sitting in the
dark wood antique wingback chair.
I finally
admitted to myself that I couldn’t ignore them. “Sorry, can you repeat the
question?”
Wayde Hagen’s
light brown eyes blazed with a bottomless irritation I wouldn’t dare agitate.
His thick, six-five frame put me on edge since next to him, I was a tiny woman.
Though I attempted to hide the fact that he intimidated me, the coldness in his
features, the sharp contours of his face, and his thin hard lips unnerved me.
“I don’t need to
repeat myself.” His low voice echoed off the high ceilings. “Answer the
question.”
I could only
gawk at him. Were all the others so chilling?
Truth be told, I
had no idea what to expect when I first heard of the others from Gretchen. The
entire airplane ride to White Castle, I drilled her on the group she belonged
to. She explained some were mediums, others psychics, and a few more were
witches. But tonight, only two of the group greeted me—if you could even call it
that.
While I sensed
energy in the room, much like an elevated awareness, and assumed it meant all
those present held some level of supernatural power, none held my abilities.
Perhaps they might create a kick-ass spell, predict the future, or sense ghosts,
but no one except me could see and talk to spirits.
Some might think
I’d impress them, but Wayde’s ice-cold gaze declared otherwise. To him, I was
an outsider, and well, I’d prefer to be outside than near him. “Let me get this
straight. You want me to find a ghost, and if I do, you’ll help me locate
Kipp?”
Wayde inclined
his head. “That’s the offer.”
I restrained my
snappy response, considering a morgue would’ve been friendlier than talking to
Wayde. He wasn’t the first to disapprove of my loving a ghost and I doubted
he’d be the last. But I didn’t much give a shit what he thought. “Why do you
need me to find your ghost?”
Turning from the
towering hand-carved marble fireplace with the blazing fire, the other woman,
Amelia, smiled at me. She settled in next to Wayde and her crystal blue eyes
warmed. Her shoulder-length honey-colored hair looked soft, leaving me to
wonder what shampoo she used. Everything about this woman screamed gentle…and
maybe a slight undertone of weakness. “Someone killed my father.”
Perhaps that
explained why she welcomed me so easily, since the matter was personal. “Your father?”
Her voice
trembled. “Or I should say, our Grand Master.”
My lip arched as
I glimpsed Gretchen, and she chuckled. “Alexander was our Grand Master. He
ruled us for the last fifteen years.”
“Oh.” What else
could I say? You’re strange. Or, why am I here?
Gretchen told me
the secret society, known as Animus, was established in the eighteenth century.
A
group of supernaturally gifted had come together and formed the organization.
Many of the founding members’ descendants remained.
To me, it
sounded like an unfriendly cult, since I hadn’t received the warmest of welcomes.
Not like I would call Gretchen a cult member to her face. She’d bailed my ass
out of trouble only days ago. When a demon had come to Memphis to feed on
innocent souls, I had been given the task to rid the world of it. Thus,
Gretchen’s teachings of witchcraft. Her assistance had led to the demon’s
banishment back to Hell.
Trust in
Gretchen had been forged out of the weirdest circumstances, but it held strong.
Perhaps I could see some logic in knowing others who lived a similar lifestyle,
since without her, the demon incident might have turned out very differently,
and not in my favor.
“I know we’re
asking a lot of you,” Amelia continued, leaning her hip against the chair Wayde
sat in.
“My husband sensed my father, tried to make contact, and failed.” Tears
welled in her eyes. “I don’t know why my father can’t get through. Or why he’s
hiding from us.”
I gazed over her
from head-to-toe. “Aren’t you a medium, too?”
“No, I’m a
witch.” She glanced down at the hardwood floors, drawing in a long breath.
“I’ve tried spells to grab his energy so my husband could read him, but
something is wrong.” She lifted her head, and a tear slid down her cheek. “At
first, we thought the feeling of my father’s presence was residue of his
energy, but my husband has told me it feels stronger than that. Almost as if he
lingers and can’t break through.”
“So, as we see
it,” Wayde interjected, turning his hard stare to me. “You need our help and we
need yours. It’s a fair trade.”
Nibbling my lip,
I considered the proposition and glimpsed at the crackling fire, focusing on
the bright orange flicker in the flame. I’d give my pinky finger to find a way
to locate Kipp. Not only did I miss him, but his disappearance made no sense.
By all appearances, he’d just up and vanished without a single trace or a solid
reason. I needed answers, not theories or heartbreak.
The Animus had
the power to find a solution. I wouldn’t sit around and pity myself any longer.
If I didn’t agree, there’d be no moving forward.
Looking from the
fire, I focused on Wayde. “Find Alexander, ask him who killed him, and that’s
it? No catch or read-the-fine-print hidden secrets?”
Wayde snorted,
and sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Precisely.”
I found ghosts
all the time—or they found me—and Amelia’s sadness proved this one recently
died.
The task didn’t seem overly difficult, but as the thought crossed my
mind, I knew better. Usually easy turned out to be some hazardous mission I
never should’ve accepted. “Before I agree, tell me how you can help me.”
No hint of
deception showed in Wayde’s gaze. “I’ll show you the way to cross through the
veil into the Netherworld.”
While hearing
Wayde might hold such knowledge elated me, since Gretchen had zero answers and
I was fresh out of ideas, believing him was another matter. I turned to the
witch I did trust. “Possible, or a lie?”
Gretchen studied
me a moment, her brows drawn together, before she finally said, “The Animus
possess witchcraft that dates to the very beginning of its creation. Anything
is possible with the right spell.” Her head tilted, and her expression became
knowing. “A spell I don’t have access to.”
Perhaps before,
I’d doubted her, since all this witchcraft stuff seemed bogus. Now, I couldn’t
reject the idea that anything was possible. Since meeting Kipp, everything had
been something upward of bizarre.
The list was
endless—Kipp was a ghost, but actually wasn’t dead, and in fact, lay comatose
in a hospital; my recent experience with magical spells, and banishing a demon
back to Hell; and the most implausible of all, I had fallen madly and deeply in
love with a spirit.
When Gretchen
told me coming to the Animus was our best shot at helping Kipp, I figured we’d
pull him out of the Netherworld, not send me into it. “How do you know—without
a doubt—that you can help me cross into the Netherworld to search for Kipp, and
I won’t get killed in the process?”
Wayde’s eyes
twinkled. “I know.”
“Yes, good and
all,” I retorted. “But how do you know?”
Running a hand
through his jet-black slicked hair, Wayde shifted in his seat and crossed an
ankle over his knee. “We are the Animus. The knowledge you need is within our
reach. I promise to share it, if you help us.”
At my snort,
since that reassured me about as much as someone holding a dagger at my throat
saying they weren’t going to slice my head off, Gretchen interjected. “A
promise by a Grand Master is exactly that, Tess. You can trust him.”
Yeah, right.
Something she
said interested me, though. I turned to Wayde. “You’re the new leader of
this…bunch?”
He nodded. “In
his will, Alexander requested I take over. This home always belongs to the
Grand Master, so when he passed, the house was gifted to me.”
I scanned the,
more or less, American Castle in slight awe. Gretchen said it had sixty-four
rooms within the three stories. From what I’d seen already, the mansion had
ornamental iron railings, fifteen-foot ceilings, and innovative features. Wayde
was a lucky man. “Fair enough.” I glanced at him. “But you need to do better. I
won’t help unless I know, without a doubt, you’re telling me the truth.”
Wayde frowned.
“A binding spell
might be the best choice,” Gretchen offered. “It’s a solution to the problem.
Not only will you,” she looked at me, “feel the truth behind his promise when
he does the spell, but you’ll also know he has to uphold it.” She glanced at
Wayde. “And this will ensure Tess holds up her end of the deal.”
Wayde hesitated,
then gave a firm nod. “I’m in agreement.” He stared me down. “Will that suffice
for you?”
As Gretchen had
told me once, magic had to be conjured in truth, honesty, and full belief or it
wouldn’t work, which left me hopeful. If Wayde agreed to the binding spell,
that meant he did have the answer I needed to get to Kipp. “Possibly,” I
answered Wayde, then said to Gretchen. “But first, how does the binding spell
work?”
“Exactly as it sounds,”
she replied in her sweet, soft voice. “Wayde will be bound to uphold his
promise to help you cross into the Netherworld, as you are bound to find and
talk to Alexander.”
Another
positive, but my non-magical brain needed more answers. “What will happen to
him if he breaks his promise?”
“His soul will
become tainted.” Gretchen’s eyes darkened, voice thickened. “He’ll grow sick
and eventually die.”
“Meaning I could
grow sick and die, too?” At her tight nod, I groaned and considered the pact.
Did I want to enter into an agreement that could kill me if I reneged on it?
Did I even have
a choice?
At my silence
and obvious hesitation, Gretchen smiled. She hadn’t guided me wrong yet. I
firmly believed she never would. Besides, if I didn’t help them, I’d lose my
ride into the Netherworld. I didn’t even need to think it over. “All right. I’m
in.” I hesitated. “Wait. This isn’t a blood promise, is it?”
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