What is Paranormal Women's Fiction anyway?
It’s Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Supernatural Cozy Mystery, and Women’s Fiction all tossed into the crockpot together until the flavors blend and harmonize into something amazing and tasty.
For me, it was a reason to get out of bed in the morning after my beloved beagle died. Sharing Joey's and Robin's story gave me something to look forward to. It was a way to tell a story about and for a group of people who are often taken for granted, women over the age of 40, a group I now belong to. The mom expected to be chef, chauffeur, to make doctor's appointments while scrubbing the toilet all without a thank you.
It's my way to add a touch of magic into the ordinary and a dose of badly needed fun into the world.
Had you heard about PWF? If so, have you read any of the books?
Book 1 Over the Faery Hill
I scrolled down through the listings, many of which were seasonal and wouldn’t start back up until spring. All of the nearby ski resorts were full up and things like ziplining and rafting were definitely warm weather-based. Plus, with my bum wrist, it wasn’t like I could tackle anything uber physical.
Story of my life.
Irritated, I snapped the laptop shut and stared out the window, massaging the ache in my wrist more out of habit than any real pain. My mother was right. At my age, not knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up was just plain sad.
Maybe because the one thing I had truly wanted to be had been taken away from me at sixteen. My gaze fell on the 1st place ribbons, the trophies and newspaper clippings on the built-in bookcase across the way. Artistic gymnastics, first place. Six years running. A photo of me in midair, doing a back handspring off the balance beam. The headline read—Local gymnast is heading for Olympic glory.
It had been more than hope though. It had been my whole life for as long as I could remember. Fate might as well have minced up to me, cracked her gum in my face, and said, “Sorry, Joey. No gold medal for you. How about a lifetime of scraping by instead?” I’d been groping for a purpose ever since.
***
“Diet. Starts. First. Thing. Tomorrow,” I huffed as I slogged ever upwards. My Olympic hopeful self would have kicked my middle aged-kiester if she could see my sorry state. I was breathing so hard that I didn’t notice the point when I crested the hill. I did however notice when the road came to an abrupt halt by dead-ending at a massive oak. I paused and took in my surroundings.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I scanned frantically for any signs of human habitation but nothing. No vehicle, no cute little cottage, or newly finished mansion. At that point, I would have given my left boob for the dreaded yurt.
Was that want ad some sort of joke? If so, it might prove to be deadly.
“What sort of sick bastard—?”
“Hey, what’s all the shrieking about?” A male voice said from above me.
I craned my neck and locked gazes with a pair of brilliant blue eyes for the second time that day. “Robin Goodfellow?”
“In the flesh.” He smirked as though it was some sort of joke. He stood on a platform that jutted out from the trunk of the tree about thirty feet above my head and was leaning over the railing, peering down at me.
“Joey Whitmore, right? The woman who wants to change October 3rd, 1996. What are you doing here?”
Odd that he remembered the date. Then again, meeting me was probably the strangest part of his day. “My”–behemoth gas guzzler—“car died.”
“I recall.” The lines around his eyes crinkled with amusement. “You look cold. Hold on a sec, I’ll be right down.”
“Okay,” I said because really, what else was I going to say?
The sound of footsteps came from inside the tree. And then a door shaped like an upside-down acorn that I hadn’t even realized was there swung inward. He appeared, silhouetted by an amber glow. “Come on in.”
Something was unsettling about Robin Goodfellow. He seemed amused like there was a private joke and he was the only one in on it. Deep-seated instinct warned that I would be an idiot to trust him.
***
“So, you admit you want to kiss me then?”
I didn’t see any point in denying it. “Yes.”
He unfurled from his casual pose and stalked closer. “And what makes you think I want to help you?”
“Because you could have been curb-boosting me all day. You gave me little trips around town and stayed with me, even when I lashed out at you. And you defended young Joey when I would have made verbal mincemeat out of her. I think you are invested in the outcome of my journey. I think you want me to succeed.”
He shook his head. “Lamb, you are delusional. I live only for the bargain, whether it succeeds or fails.”
“Then why do you want me to kiss you so badly?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.
His eyes glowed in the dim light. “I couldn’t say.”
I wondered if that meant he didn’t know. At first, I thought he just wanted to push my buttons, to make me squirm since that was the fae prince’s MO. But I was beginning to believe that Robin was hanging around with me, not because I was one of his bargain biddies, but because he actually liked me.
I scrolled down through the listings, many of which were seasonal and wouldn’t start back up until spring. All of the nearby ski resorts were full up and things like ziplining and rafting were definitely warm weather-based. Plus, with my bum wrist, it wasn’t like I could tackle anything uber physical.
Story of my life.
Irritated, I snapped the laptop shut and stared out the window, massaging the ache in my wrist more out of habit than any real pain. My mother was right. At my age, not knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up was just plain sad.
Maybe because the one thing I had truly wanted to be had been taken away from me at sixteen. My gaze fell on the 1st place ribbons, the trophies and newspaper clippings on the built-in bookcase across the way. Artistic gymnastics, first place. Six years running. A photo of me in midair, doing a back handspring off the balance beam. The headline read—Local gymnast is heading for Olympic glory.
It had been more than hope though. It had been my whole life for as long as I could remember. Fate might as well have minced up to me, cracked her gum in my face, and said, “Sorry, Joey. No gold medal for you. How about a lifetime of scraping by instead?” I’d been groping for a purpose ever since.
***
“Diet. Starts. First. Thing. Tomorrow,” I huffed as I slogged ever upwards. My Olympic hopeful self would have kicked my middle aged-kiester if she could see my sorry state. I was breathing so hard that I didn’t notice the point when I crested the hill. I did however notice when the road came to an abrupt halt by dead-ending at a massive oak. I paused and took in my surroundings.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I scanned frantically for any signs of human habitation but nothing. No vehicle, no cute little cottage, or newly finished mansion. At that point, I would have given my left boob for the dreaded yurt.
Was that want ad some sort of joke? If so, it might prove to be deadly.
“What sort of sick bastard—?”
“Hey, what’s all the shrieking about?” A male voice said from above me.
I craned my neck and locked gazes with a pair of brilliant blue eyes for the second time that day. “Robin Goodfellow?”
“In the flesh.” He smirked as though it was some sort of joke. He stood on a platform that jutted out from the trunk of the tree about thirty feet above my head and was leaning over the railing, peering down at me.
“Joey Whitmore, right? The woman who wants to change October 3rd, 1996. What are you doing here?”
Odd that he remembered the date. Then again, meeting me was probably the strangest part of his day. “My”–behemoth gas guzzler—“car died.”
“I recall.” The lines around his eyes crinkled with amusement. “You look cold. Hold on a sec, I’ll be right down.”
“Okay,” I said because really, what else was I going to say?
The sound of footsteps came from inside the tree. And then a door shaped like an upside-down acorn that I hadn’t even realized was there swung inward. He appeared, silhouetted by an amber glow. “Come on in.”
Something was unsettling about Robin Goodfellow. He seemed amused like there was a private joke and he was the only one in on it. Deep-seated instinct warned that I would be an idiot to trust him.
***
“So, you admit you want to kiss me then?”
I didn’t see any point in denying it. “Yes.”
He unfurled from his casual pose and stalked closer. “And what makes you think I want to help you?”
“Because you could have been curb-boosting me all day. You gave me little trips around town and stayed with me, even when I lashed out at you. And you defended young Joey when I would have made verbal mincemeat out of her. I think you are invested in the outcome of my journey. I think you want me to succeed.”
He shook his head. “Lamb, you are delusional. I live only for the bargain, whether it succeeds or fails.”
“Then why do you want me to kiss you so badly?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.
His eyes glowed in the dim light. “I couldn’t say.”
I wondered if that meant he didn’t know. At first, I thought he just wanted to push my buttons, to make me squirm since that was the fae prince’s MO. But I was beginning to believe that Robin was hanging around with me, not because I was one of his bargain biddies, but because he actually liked me.
by Jennifer L. Hart
October 26, 2020
260 pages
Genre: Paranormal Women's Fiction
A mountain of regrets. A bargain with a mischievous faery. Could tinkering with her past create a better future?
Joey Whitmore longs to escape her dead-end world. Facing a midlife crisis at age forty-two and still living with her mother, getting fired from yet another job is the proverbial last straw. So when a fae trickster in human guise offers a chance at changing her history, she figures there’s nothing left to lose.
Though skeptical of his magic, Joey accepts the sly prince’s enchanted hourglass and begins a reckless journey back in time. But as she tries to act as her own fairy godmother and reverse her mistakes, her blundering interference causes a chain of catastrophic consequences.
Will Joey’s attempts to alter her deadbeat destiny end up erasing her entire existence?
Over the Fairy Hill is the first entry in the Magical Midlife Misadventures paranormal women’s fiction series. If you like relatable characters, paranormal twists, and laugh-out-loud humor, then you’ll love Jennifer L. Hart’s endearing tale.
Buy Over the Faery Hill to grant a bag full of dubious wishes today!
The Fae Side of Forty (Magical Midlife Misadventures Book 2)
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Jennifer L. Hart writes about characters that cuss, get naked, and often make poor but hilarious life choices. A native New Yorker, Jenn now lives in the mountains of North Carolina with her imaginary friends. Her works to date include the Damaged Goods mystery series and the Magical Midlife Misadventures.
Genre: Paranormal Women's Fiction
A mountain of regrets. A bargain with a mischievous faery. Could tinkering with her past create a better future?
Joey Whitmore longs to escape her dead-end world. Facing a midlife crisis at age forty-two and still living with her mother, getting fired from yet another job is the proverbial last straw. So when a fae trickster in human guise offers a chance at changing her history, she figures there’s nothing left to lose.
Though skeptical of his magic, Joey accepts the sly prince’s enchanted hourglass and begins a reckless journey back in time. But as she tries to act as her own fairy godmother and reverse her mistakes, her blundering interference causes a chain of catastrophic consequences.
Will Joey’s attempts to alter her deadbeat destiny end up erasing her entire existence?
Over the Fairy Hill is the first entry in the Magical Midlife Misadventures paranormal women’s fiction series. If you like relatable characters, paranormal twists, and laugh-out-loud humor, then you’ll love Jennifer L. Hart’s endearing tale.
Buy Over the Faery Hill to grant a bag full of dubious wishes today!
**On Sale for the month of April – only $2.49!!**
USA Today bestselling author Jennifer L. Hart writes about characters that cuss, get naked, and often make poor but hilarious life choices. A native New Yorker, Jenn now lives in the mountains of North Carolina with her imaginary friends. Her works to date include the Damaged Goods mystery series and the Magical Midlife Misadventures.
Giveaway
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– 1 winner each!!
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