Excerpt: Awakening (The Regonia Chronicles, #1) by Elexis Bell + giveaway

Awakening (The Regonia Chronicles, #1)
by Elexis Bell
February 20th 2024
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance, Science Fiction
Tortured by memories implanted by his captors, Krona knows only one thing. He must find Tenna, his partner, his Queen. She can’t be dead. But when Ricardo, one of his human guards, tells him she’s alive on another space station, the truth might be just as painful as their lies.

With her memories missing and her planet supposedly destroyed, Tenna struggles to acclimate to life among humans. Olivia, a spaceship pilot and hacker, does her best to help. When a guard shows up with an alien Tenna knows she’s seen before, it’s obvious things aren’t what they seem.

When they learn that family ties bind enemy and ally, Krona and Tenna can only hope the honor they see in their human friends is strong enough to overcome blood. Can they work together to save themselves, their minds, and their tribe? Or will they lose everything?

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EXCERPT:
Ricardo
I sit on the bench in Francis’ quarters, peering out the window at the black expanse of space. I pull my leg up underneath me as she plops onto her bed. My eyes focus on her reflection for an instant, drawn to the flash of her red hair, but I return my gaze to the stars.

After working some magic on her Link to loop camera and recorder feeds from her room, she says, “Okay. We’re good. Now, what’s wrong?”
I turn to face her, stomach in knots.

“Something isn’t right,” I say.

And everything pours out.

The details that just don’t line up. All my questions about the prisoner, Krona. The oddity of his behavior.

“He doesn’t act like a Drennar. Hell, he said they’re his ancestors, that they’re dead.” Sighing, I run a weary hand over my face. “I don’t know if it’s a trick, if he’s toying with us, or what, but he doesn’t act like them. He’s… emotional. When he sings, I feel it. We all do, that’s why Garcia cracked. It was too much for him.”

Francis stares at me, uncertain, but she says, “He’s probably just trying to trick us.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. If it was just the story about them dying off, maybe, but it isn’t. He’s different. He’s not one of them.”
Realizing the words that just crossed my lips, I rush to add, “Or… he might not be. I don’t know.”

“I think you might be reading into it a little too much,” Francis says, but her tone does little to back her words.

She’s perceptive. She must have questions.
“Then, explain the emotion? Explain the woman he’s clearly mourning, or the doubt in his words. The translator can’t be adding too much to that. Hell, it doesn’t have to add anything to it. Even in his language, I feel it. He’s mad and upset, and I don’t know why. But Drennar don’t feel. If they do, they don’t express it. You’ve seen the footage of them just as well as I have.”

Francis’ brows reach for each other, carving lines in her face, and a deep breath puffs out her chest for an instant. She purses her lips as my words sink in.

So, I forge ahead.

“All the times the Drennar came for us, did they ever sing? Even once?” I shake my head, answering my question for her. “If he’s one of them, why the weird renovations to his cell? Why a stone cell? He’s strong enough to get out. He showed Garcia that pretty clearly today.”

Recalling his words earlier and Garcia’s multiple dislocations, I ask, “What’s really keeping him in there? Because it sure as hell isn’t us.”

Giving in just a bit, Francis leans forward, propping her arms on her thighs. “Suppose you’re right, and he is something else. What are we supposed to do about it? What does that change? He’s a prisoner. We’re Guards. It’s simple. And why would they lie to us? If he’s not a Drennar, why would they say he is?”
“I don’t know,” I say. My stomach turns, and I look out the window again. “I don’t know what to do.”

But I do.

Defeated, I take a deep breath. “I need some answers. Something doesn’t add up.”

Shaking her head, Francis says, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

And if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t either. My gut tells me something’s wrong here, and it’s never steered me wrong.

But it has steered me straight into trouble, many times.

About the Author:

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I'm a nerd with a lot of hobbies and enough sarcasm and swear words to make a sailor blush, though, you'll never hear a word of it if I'm not comfortable around you. I've been an introvert since birth. When I'm writing, though, words come easily.

At the end of the day, I just want to write stories that make people feel something.

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Excerpt: A Blessed Darkness by Elexis Bell + giveaway

A Blessed Darkness
by Elexis Bell
February 22nd 2022
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
A dark connection. A deadly responsibility.

Sparks fly when Elairie, a mixed-blood elf living on the edge of society and serving as a night guard, meets her latest prisoner. Strange auras surround them, and a magical gravity draws her to him, despite what her associates might say about his race. But the connection they share comes with a dark side.

When Beluroan learns that he and his guard are Blessed Ones, hand-crafted by the Gods to stop a madman from recreating the Blood Magic of old, his veins run cold. Threatened with a return to the magical slavery such magic commands, fear grips him, and memories of his childhood Master fill his mind.

But together, their potential power frightens even the Gods. Can they overcome the prejudices marring their land and master their new magic in time to stop the man trying to enslave their country? Or will they succumb to their own power?

Filled with grit and magic, this literary romantic fantasy will take you on a ride.

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Excerpt:
The vision whisks us away from the cottage, and our spirits fly to a tiny camp deep in the forest. We stand with hands joined, staring at four Elves gathered around a campfire.
Fortune magic whispers through my mind, telling me these are the Elves who took my mother. My blood boils, and I grit my teeth.
One of them, a young woman with a shaved head, has the faraway look of someone in the grip of a vision. The others wait, staring into the flames.
When her eyes focus on the world before her, she hisses, “Fetch her.”
A form beside her separates from the shadows. A malicious smile spreads over his features, but darkness hides sunken eyes. He disappears into a tent only to return, dragging my mother along behind him.
My heart twists in my chest.
Dirty ropes bind her hands. A gash on the side of her face sucks in the light, and dried blood coats her skin.
“Mother!” I scream, voice breaking.
But she doesn’t hear me.
The woman with the shaved head steps closer to her. “What do you know and who did you tell?”
“All I know is that Gourmaht wants to renew the Blood Magic, and he’s somewhere in the Cargam Mountains. That’s it.”
The bald woman looms over my mother, leaning close. “Who did you tell?”
“No one.”
The woman steps back and motions to the shadowy man. His hand flies out, slamming into my mother’s face.
She stumbles backward, nearly toppling into the flames, and I gasp. Cold horror sweeps through me.
But my mother doesn’t make a sound.
She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. A single tear trickles over her cheek, and blood flows from the gash on her face, now weeping once more, cascading to her tattered shirt.
The bald woman shouts, “Who did you tell?”
Mother’s words come out a whisper, “No one. I told no one. I couldn’t bear to speak of it.”
Finally, this satisfies them. The bald woman enters another vision. But fortune magic tells me it isn’t by choice. Waergou triggered it. The same man who traced Mother’s location.
When she snaps out of it, she says, “Gourmaht believes that she told no one. She has no one, after all, so who would she tell? Such a pitiful, lonely existence.”
Turning to the remaining two figures, she says, “Make it look like an animal attack. Provoke one if you can.”
Then, she vanishes into the tent behind her.
The shadow man shoves Mother to the ground, and my mouth falls open. Beluroan’s grip on my hand tightens.
Don’t let them do this.
The remaining Elves, two faceless figures, drag her to the edge of the firelight. Shadow wraps around them, hiding their faces.
I reach for a stick, anything to use as a weapon, but my hand passes through. Only my spirit stands here.
The Elves pull knives from within their cloaks and slash my mother’s arms, her stomach, her legs. A terrible scream erupts from me, but they hear nothing.
Mother bites her lip, silent and still. Blood trickles from her mouth where teeth pierce flesh.
I tug at Beluroan’s arm, desperate to go to her, to save her, but he pulls me into his arms.
“Elairie, we can’t do anything,” he gasps, voice cracking as he tucks my head against his chest.
They drag her past us, leaving a trail of blood glistening on leaves and broken twigs.

About the Author:

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I'm a nerd with a lot of hobbies and enough sarcasm and swear words to make a sailor blush, though, you'll never hear a word of it if I'm not comfortable around you. I've been an introvert since birth. When I'm writing, though, words come easily.

At the end of the day, I just want to write stories that make people feel something.

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Interview with Dark Fantasy Author Elexis Bell + giveaway

Describe your writing style.

Gritty, lyrical, character-driven, and punchy. My characters drive the plot, and I don’t waste time with unnecessary details. I use a lot of sentence fragments, a lot of dependent clauses and paragraph breaks, all in the name of flow. And I never shy away from the tough subjects my plots demand.

What is your writing process? For instance, do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first? What are common traps for aspiring writers?

I’m what’s known in writing communities as a pantser/discovery writer. Some people prefer discovery writer because it sounds more serious. I prefer pantser because it sounds more fun and writing is supposed to be fun. But regardless of what you call it, I write by the seat of my pants.
No outlines. No story bible. No character profiles.
I get an idea, and I start writing.

Beyond that, I do a lot of things that are commonly preached against in writing circles. Many people say not to edit as you go because it might trap you in a cycle of rewriting/fixing rather than writing the rest of the book. But I edit as I go, and it works for me.

A lot of people say to write every day, but I work 12 hour shifts at least two days a week. I don’t usually get to write on those days.

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

I just let the story be what it needs to be. There’s an audience out there for any book. It’s just a matter of finding them. Yes, writing this way rather than writing to market means that marketing will inevitably be more difficult, but the integrity of the characters and the story means more to me than saving myself a little difficulty in advertising.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

I write somewhat quickly. Despite working full time and maintaining a semblance of a social life, I can usually finish a first draft in about four months. Some books take a little longer, depending on how much overtime I end up with during that time.

Allmother Rising took one day less than four months. The writing started out slow thanks to work, but then Covid happened, and the factory I work at got shut down for two months. So, I still got it done in four months.

However, my current project, The Regonia Chronicles, is an exception. It’s a series that I didn’t know would be a series until I was about 90,000 words in with no end in sight. (Most sci-fi/fantasy novels are between 70,000 and 120,000 words, for reference.) And then, when I started writing what I thought would be book two, I had to go back and add several chapters to book one, which changed the point at which book one ended. Then, book three meant more additions to book one.
So, for this project, I honestly have no idea how long each book is taking because they’re all under construction up until the completion of the whole series. Not to mention the fact that I’ve stopped to write unrelated books a few times, and since I’m making up a complete language for one of the races in the book, I occasionally have to stop writing to fill out their dictionary.

But usually, I can stick to an average of four months per first draft.

Allmother Rising
by Elexis Bell

May 25, 2021

279 pages

Genre: Dark Fantasy with Straight and LGBTQ Romance
A broken-hearted priestess and a deposed prince team up with a ranger and a rebel with one too many secrets. In the name of The Allmother, they go to war to save their lands.

A coup in a neighboring kingdom brings threats of invasion and fire to Priestess Rising Veliana’s home in the forest. Under the guidance of her goddess, The Allmother, she forms an alliance with the deposed prince, Tyrvahn, and his ex, Garle, the leader of a rebellion that’s been brewing for years.

But Garle has many secrets, one of which could unravel Veliana and Tyrvahn’s budding romance and the future of these uneasy alliances. Veliana’s best friend, Kivala, tries to soften Garle with the ways of their fallen homeland, but what she learns chills her to her core.

At war with a vicious man twisted by the god of greed, they can’t afford to fight amongst themselves. Can they overcome their differences to save their home and their goddess from the new king? Or will the forests burn over blood-soaked earth?

Fans of magic and grit, high stakes and godly secrets will love this dark high fantasy novel with straight and LGBT romance.

**Only .99 cents until June 1st!!**

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EXCERPT
The Sailon Forest closes in around me, dark and foreboding in the night. A twig snaps behind me, and I know I haven’t escaped them. With my parents dead and my kingdom stolen, a moon spent on the run has flown by.

Yet my cousin’s men nip at my heels. I feel them getting closer each day.

I pick up my pace, refusing to give them an easy kill.

Sprinting through the undergrowth by the scant bits of moonlight that filter through the leaves, I remind myself who I am. Tyrvahn Mahrdur, Prince of the great nation, Jun. My last shot at an ally, at getting my kingdom back, vanished when the High Seal agreed to Paikon’s terms, but I won’t go down easy.

I try to think through how many of my assailants I’ve picked off, but it’s no easy task. Their numbers change, and I can’t be sure we haven’t passed by another of their camps.

Sweat beads on my forehead and drips down my scalp. Droplets of it trickle around the base of my antlers, matting my thick black hair down. I force myself to focus despite the exertion.

Listen.

I strain my ears, desperate to pick any order from the crashing footsteps behind me. Yet, the cacophony is not as terrible as I expected.

Two of them?

Maybe three?

I try harder to siphon out the sounds of my footsteps and the violent beating of my heart. I pick out the sounds of the river and change direction, heading straight for the rushing water. My legs pump harder as I push myself toward the water and the promise of moonlight.

Behind me, a long, high whistle sounds, and realization hits me. These are scouts. The rest of the party follows behind, waiting for a signal before closing in. The whistle sounds once more, and my blood runs cold.

They’re far too close.

I have to eliminate the scouts before the others catch up.

Maybe then I can slip away.

My heart stutters as I think of the other possible outcomes. Being overrun by a horde of assassins doesn’t exactly sound appealing.

The trees begin to thin, and saplings claw at my clothes, already far from the glory they once were. My shirt rips as a small branch catches my side, but I keep going.

Another sapling reaches out, whipping a thin branch against the black tip of my ear. My breath comes in great gusts, but warmth builds in my chest. The warmth of the Allmother’s approval.

I’ve only come to feel it recently. All it took was nearly dying, but I’ve seen her. And now, I feel her urging me along this path.

So, I run faster.

As I near the rushing river, fewer twigs crunch underfoot, and the sounds of my pursuers grow clearer.

Definitely no more than three.

I smile, liking my odds.

Allmother, grant me strength…

About the Author

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Elexis Bell writes gritty and emotional novels. Born and raised in the midwestern United States, she dreams of a cabin in the woods rather than a house surrounded by cornfields.

She loves writing well-developed characters facing real problems in vibrant, magical worlds. Armed with a degree in psychology and a rollercoaster past, she sprinkles gut-wrenching emotions over high fantasy romance, science fiction, and the occasional thriller.

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