by Christina Bauer
Genre: YA Supernatural
Release date: 2020
Monster House Books
Summary:
WARNING
If you don’t like pixies, don’t read this diary.
If you don’t like loud-mouthed pixies who are really cool but sometimes get told they’re immature (for no reason), then definitely stop reading.
Oh, and if you’re His Awfulness The Elf Prince ‘Dare’ Darius, then you can kiss my butt. My hatred for you burns with the fire of a thousand suns. Thanks for getting me kicked out of Pixieland and exiled to attend some rando human high school on Earth. You’re the worst, even if you have a cute smile. And nice eyes. Your hair looks okay sometimes, too. But you’re still a creep and I loathe you.
And to everyone else: if you’ve read this far, then you better finish my entire diary.
My story is supernatural, whacked-out, and overall awesome.
THE SERIES…
Book One. Pixieland Diaries
Book Two. Calla
Book Three. Dare
Book Four. Ivy
Purchase PIXIELAND DIARIES on Amazon, Googleplay, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble & Kobo
PIXIELAND DIARIES SAMPLER
Dear
Dairy,
When we
last left my life, I’d just accepted a magical visit from my future husband
the elf prince Dare. After that, a small sphere of blue light appears nearby.
The shape expands until it turns into what I call Ghost-Dare. Technically, this
is his astral body projecting into my bedroom for a visit.
Ghost-Dare
is just catchier, in my opinion.
For a
moment, I drink in the sight of him. Even though he’s semi-transparent,
Ghost-Dare is still rather attractive. Like all winter elves, the prince is
crazy tall and ripped with muscle. As always, Dare’s longish dark hair
perfectly highlights the straight cut of his jawline. Today he wears his
standard black armor and a fur-trimmed cloak. It’s really a shame that the
winter realm is so cold. I never get to see the guy in shorts.
Dare’s
teeth turn super pointy while his nails stretch into extra-long claws. That’s a
winter elf thing; it means he’s upset. “I just left a meeting with the summer
court,” Dare says in his rumbly voice. “I have terrible news.”
“Let me
guess. Lazare is sending an assassin after me.”
“Yes.
How did you know?”
“I’m
incredibly wise about a lot of things. It goes along with being grown-up and
mysterious.” There, that told him. “Anything else?”
“I’ll
be at Lazare’s court for some days.” He raises his hand, showing off the scar
on his palm. “I may not be able to accept your requests to talk. At least, not
right away.”
That’s
unusual. Dare is always ready for my summons. “Oh? Anything I should
know about?”
“Perhaps.”
Dare rakes his fingers through his messy hair. That’s a sure sign he’s hiding
something. “I don’t want to say until I’m certain.”
“Let me
guess. Does it have to do with naming your bride?”
“Calla.”
Even as a ghost, I can see him blush.
The
pieces fall together. For Dare to ensure I’m his future wife, he must meet with
Lazare. After all, summer fae are more powerful than winter. Most likely,
Lazare thought Dare would wed one of his yucky daughters. What a horror show
those three are. Dare will offer some concessions so Lazare will accept a
different choice of wife. Magic wands, most likely. Those store power and are
crazy expensive. I nod once to myself, confident I have it all worked out. And
once everything is set with Lazare, Dare will spring his surprise proposal on
me. What a sweetie.
“I
completely understand.” It’s an effort not to blab my discovery, but I don’t
want to ruin Dare’s plan. “I’ll be fine while you’re gone.”
All
signs of blush leave his face. Ghost-Dare fixes me with a serious look. “Listen
to me carefully.”
I shift
in my bed and lean forward, as if I want to listen better. Which is sort of
true. However, the movement also gives me the change to rearrange my blankets
in a way that best shows off my pretty PJs.
“Go
on,” I say solemnly.
“Lazare
won’t stop sending assassins. Be on your guard. Summon me if you need me.”
Ghost-Dare raises his hand once more. The scar on his palm glows blue with
power. “I will always find you.”
Sweet,
but not a proposal. I slap on a fake smile. “How nice.”
“There’s
more, Calla.” Ghost-Dare float-walks even nearer and—at last—I know this
is it. His heartfelt confession.
All of
a sudden, it’s hard to pull enough air into my lungs. “Yes?”
“I’ve
always noticed you,” says Ghost-Dare.
“Of
course.” I look up at him through my lashes. According to my kissy novels, this
particular glance works well for romance. “You see me as—”
“The
little sister I never knew I wanted,” finishes Ghost-Dare.
“What?”
I can’t believe this.
“You’re
the only trustworthy person in my life. As an elf prince, you’ve no idea what
that means. No matter what happens, I’ll always protect you.”
“Oh.”
The words echo through my mind.
Protect.
Not
love.
Not
marry.
Protect.
With
that, it’s official. My life sucks. Pulling the covers over my head, I scrunch
lower on the mattress. “Got it,” I say through the comforter. “I’ll stay safe.”
“Am I
being dismissed?”
“I ate
galla root for dinner and you know how filling that is. Bye, Dare.”
“Rest
well, little hob.”
Ugh.
Little hob is a nickname from when we were kids. Like I
need reminding that Dare’s frosty pea brain has me stuck at six years
old. To show my displeasure, I pull down the covers and stick out my tongue
once more. That will show him, part deux.
Ghost-Dare
grins, and it’s a great look on him. Who am I kidding? Every expression works
on this guy. A moment later, Dare’s cloudy self dissolves from the room. Which
is fine. Now I can get some rest. Only trouble is, the more I think about it,
the more I keep wondering about Dare’s visit to the summer elves.
Fat
chance of falling asleep now.
-Calla
About the Author:
Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.
Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.
Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.
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