Spotlight: Autumn Chaos by Olena Nikitin
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(Season’s War, #1)
Publication date: September 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
A mystery of a monster on the rampage ignites the passionate love triangle between a witch and two warriors with a help of a mysterious cat.
After ten years of peaceful solitude, exiled-mage-turned-village-witch, Lady Inanuan of Thorn, has her life turned upside down when a half-dead warrior is dumped on her doorstep. Soon she learns that no good deed goes unpunished in the Black Forest—not even if your friend is Leshy, the Forest God himself.
Expelled from her position as a court mage for her sharp tongue, Ina’s had ten years to learn how to survive in a harsh environment. The forbidden healing she performs links her life energy with her unexpected guest Marcach, captain of the guards, and Ren, his best friend, a traveller from lands so far away that many consider them a myth.
With unnatural monsters on the loose and unrest in the capital, everything points toward rebellion, and clues that both men discover indicate Ina’s involvement. Ina learns her magic is not what it seems, and her past comes back to haunt her.
An old mistake will see her dragged back to the court and thrown right into the middle of the political struggle. To make things worse, her heart succumbs not to just one man but two, and each expects the worst of her.
Will the woman who does not believe in love be able to choose? And can she clear her name and learn to control the Chaos before it burns the kingdom down?
Excerpt
Warm sunlight caressed Ina’s face, and she stretched like a cat without opening her eyes. She didn’t want to wake up just yet, not when it was nice and warm and… fluffy?
Did Boruta jump on the bed when she was asleep? Her hand wandered to the source of the fluffiness against her cheek and started stroking it. It was different, coarser than cat fur, and much more enticing. Ina kept stroking it, trying to get closer to the source of the warmth, with her half-asleep brain musing over the riddle of majestic fur. Suddenly, the pleasant warmth was ripped away, and a deep, grumpy voice boomed straight to her face.
“Who the fuck are you? What am I doing here, and what the hell are you doing to my chest?”
She opened one eye, trying to adjust to the daylight. A sharp masculine face with a clenched jaw was right above her, looking quite hostile. The realisation dawned with painful memories of yesterday’s healing. “Ah, my pain in the ass unwelcome guest is still here.” Still, she had to admit she appreciated the masculine presence next to her, despite the circumstances of their first meeting. Unfortunately, the object of her appreciation was pissed, confused and demanding an explanation. It looked like the morning brew would have to wait.
You’d think the afterlife would be warmer, Mar thought as a shiver ran over his body. Awareness crept in, and the lack of pain was the next thing he noticed after the cold. How am I still alive? Was the next thought that followed when a soft murmur, almost a purr, tickled his ear as a soft stroking hand moved across the expanse of his naked chest.
Mar slowly opened his eyes, and a homely, if a slightly shabby room, came into focus, not to mention the nearly naked woman still happily stroking her hand over his chest.
Mar mumbled a curse when he leapt from the small bed, sheets the colour of old blood hampering his movements as unsettling thoughts ran rampant through his mind. He shouted his confusion in the woman’s face with uncharacteristic harshness, snapping the questions out in anger.
Ina slowly raised her torso from the tussled linen. She yawned wide, indifferent and unfazed by the sudden outburst of her guest. Why couldn’t you just lay down and take it a little longer? She thought, still feeling drained after last night, especially after this ungrateful bore woke her from such a pleasant dream.
With nothing better to do, while waiting till he calmed down, Ina assessed his body. There was something incredibly appealing about the way he looked. Lean but well-built, his chest and arms muscles rippling with barely restrained violence, a short, slightly ragged beard paired with slightly too long, ashen blonde hair. Her gaze slid over his chest. She noticed new and old scars beneath the soft fur covering his torso. Her gaze slid lower with a lazy smile, shamelessly trailing along the hairline adorning his abdomen, stopping at the top of his breeches and her lips parted. Time to negotiate the release from my exile, she thought, shifting on the bed.
“I’m Ina, and you are coming back to bed.” She stated the fact with an alluring purr, patting the tangled linen. “You still need to recover, and I’m too depleted to drag you back from the afterlife twice.”
Unfortunately, after years of being surrounded by peasants with their trembling fearful voices not only made her feel lonely but must have stripped her of her charm.
The man stared at her in disbelief, and she shifted under his judgemental stare. And it occurred to her, being with a stranger in the cottage, not only did she not show any signs of fear or embarrassment, but she also openly invited him to her bed. His widened pupils told her it was not without its appeal. Still, judging by the state peasants dragged him here most likely, the last thing he remembered was a battle, agonising pain, sharp claws ripping his body, and his desperate attempt to cling to life. He had the reason to be angry and confused, and Ina was almost sorry for him, but her compassion cut off when he spoke.
“I am Marcach of Liath, the Captain of King’s Guards, and I demand answers. I have no time to spend with the local whore.”
Her mouth gaped at the sheer audacity of this statement, and tension of raw magic filled the air. One look at her face and his tightened lips made it clear he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. The wisps of Chaos danced in the air when Ina raised herself on the bed.
“Oh, go fuck yourself, you ungrateful bore!”
A sudden burst of power that came from her hit the man in the chest like a horse’s kick. The next thing, he was flung backwards, breaking through the door. And that was only the first lesson he learned about Lady of Thorn that day.
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About the Author
Olena Nikitin is our pen name. We are an enthusiastic couple of writers who are fascinated by the fantasy/paranormal romance genre and decided to write a book we would love to read
Behind the Pen name:
Olga - is Polish, armed with a wicked sense of humour and typical Slavic pessimism she is the wicked witch from the East. She has written stories since childhood, initially mostly about her work. As an emergency physician, she always has a story to tell and often not much time to write.
Mark is a typical English gentleman whose charm, refined taste and an impressive collection of books were tempting enough to make Olga leave her homeland. Don't tease him too much; this man has an impressive sword collection and he knows how to use it. He also can fix everything, including Polish syntax in English writing.
See more on our website: www.olenanikitin.uk
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