by Edeline Wrigh
Publication date: July 23rd 2024
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
She’s the ember that started the fire.
He’s the ash that remains when all is dead.
When Emberly, a field biologist with a connection to the spirit world, returns to her hometown for her dream job, she thinks she’s prepared to defend her home and confront her destiny. But she’s not prepared for Ashton: the man she must marry to uphold the bargain she made for her life. And no amount of chastising from her ghost twin is going to change her mind.
Ashton, the handsome, reluctant heir to the mining empire that killed Emberly’s grandfather, wants nothing to do with his family legacy. But when his father announces plans to resume mining operations, his only hope at protecting the mountain is to work with the woman he fell in love with at first sight—and who can’t stand to look at him.
Forced into a fake relationship to keep the circumstances of their magically arranged marriage—and the supernatural salamanders—a secret, their annoyance with each other is only heightened by their mutual attraction. But there’s only so long they can avoid fate.
Fire Called is the first in a new contemporary romantasy trilogy. If you like steamy romances, hearing ghost stories around the campfire, and finding magic in so-called ‘mundane’ places, this one’s for you.
Goodreads-Amazon-B&N-iBooks-Kobo
Excerpt 1:
The Appalachians are ancient—they existed millions of years ago, before the continents separated. They have stories aplenty to tell those who will listen to the pines sway in the wind, to the howls of the coyotes, and to the stories wildflowers tell when they bloom, each a different shape and color as the weather warms and cools in the spring.
It takes practice, sure. And there are those with gifts, like Virginia—the youngest of seven daughters—who have a special affinity for those conversations.
The sky was overcast, the air was thick with the scent of rain, and the birds chattered warnings about the impending storm on Ember’s first day in the field.
Today’s goal was to survey the area to prepare for future outings.
She had convinced Nicole she could handle the woods alone. And Nicole, ever trusting, had granted her the autonomy she craved.
Ember reveled in the solitude of the mountains. She relished the freedom to explore at her own pace, unburdened by the presence of others.
But then she heard a voice she didn't recognize.
“Emberly,” it said.
She neither saw anyone nor was sure where it was coming from.
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d heard her name called by someone—or something— she couldn’t see. It wouldn’t be the last either, especially with the amount of time she’d be in the woods after dark. She knew what the tales said about those who acknowledged such voices with words or action; it was best to ignore it.
In the early daylight, it was less likely to succeed at harming her. It was also loud enough it was probably far away. Still, spirits gossiped, and she didn’t want a reputation for being gullible.
It kept talking to her anyway.
“Emberly Jane Whitmore, you have a debt to repay.”
The “debt” mention gave her pause.
It was unwise to talk to spirits you couldn’t identify, especially in the woods. Then again, it was unwise to promise yourself to the spirits, too. Ma had warned Ember about that a thousand times and about the consequences that befell those who promised themselves and attempted to evade payment.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, directing the question nowhere in particular just in case. “I’m supposed to be working.”
“This is the work,” the voice said cryptically.
“Again, what exactly are you asking me to do? Shed my blood on a rock?”
“You will know when you know. But consider this your summons. When the time comes…”
The spirit voice? Confusing as shit. And not at all helpful.
“When the time comes, I what?”
“Be ready to meet your betrothed.”
The Appalachians are ancient—they existed millions of years ago, before the continents separated. They have stories aplenty to tell those who will listen to the pines sway in the wind, to the howls of the coyotes, and to the stories wildflowers tell when they bloom, each a different shape and color as the weather warms and cools in the spring.
It takes practice, sure. And there are those with gifts, like Virginia—the youngest of seven daughters—who have a special affinity for those conversations.
The sky was overcast, the air was thick with the scent of rain, and the birds chattered warnings about the impending storm on Ember’s first day in the field.
Today’s goal was to survey the area to prepare for future outings.
She had convinced Nicole she could handle the woods alone. And Nicole, ever trusting, had granted her the autonomy she craved.
Ember reveled in the solitude of the mountains. She relished the freedom to explore at her own pace, unburdened by the presence of others.
But then she heard a voice she didn't recognize.
“Emberly,” it said.
She neither saw anyone nor was sure where it was coming from.
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d heard her name called by someone—or something— she couldn’t see. It wouldn’t be the last either, especially with the amount of time she’d be in the woods after dark. She knew what the tales said about those who acknowledged such voices with words or action; it was best to ignore it.
In the early daylight, it was less likely to succeed at harming her. It was also loud enough it was probably far away. Still, spirits gossiped, and she didn’t want a reputation for being gullible.
It kept talking to her anyway.
“Emberly Jane Whitmore, you have a debt to repay.”
The “debt” mention gave her pause.
It was unwise to talk to spirits you couldn’t identify, especially in the woods. Then again, it was unwise to promise yourself to the spirits, too. Ma had warned Ember about that a thousand times and about the consequences that befell those who promised themselves and attempted to evade payment.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, directing the question nowhere in particular just in case. “I’m supposed to be working.”
“This is the work,” the voice said cryptically.
“Again, what exactly are you asking me to do? Shed my blood on a rock?”
“You will know when you know. But consider this your summons. When the time comes…”
The spirit voice? Confusing as shit. And not at all helpful.
“When the time comes, I what?”
“Be ready to meet your betrothed.”
Website-FB-X
Instagram-tiktok
Edeline Wrigh is an eccentric storyteller with a penchant for swearing, drinking too much caffeine, and spending more time with cats than people. She writes fantasy, romance, and love stories without happy endings from her house in the midwest. When she’s not putting words on paper, she’s busy upleveling her martial arts game or taking in stories in any way she can.
GIVEAWAY
Blitz-wide giveaway (INT)
$25 Amazon gift card
a Rafflecopter giveaway
.png)
.png)
.jpg)
.png)
