Her Majesty’s Fury
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Tannhauser Press
Date of Publication: Oct. 24, 2019
Number of pages: 311
Word Count: 74060
Cover Artist: TS95Studios
About the Book:
When you're working with the Roman god of chaos, things can always get worse.
Bacchae, the supernatural creatures that spawned vampire lore, are real. For the last several thousand years, they’ve kept to the shadows. UNTIL NOW.
When the worst and most powerful of the Bacchae murders someone she loves, graduate student Serafina Finch, now aided by the ancient god Bacchus, sets out on a journey in search of new allies. They must act quickly before Danae, the Bacchae witch claiming to be Queen, figures out a way to restore the Bacchae to their full powers.
Sera is hellbent on killing Danae before she devastates the mortal world, and it becomes a race against time when the queen reveals her own dark alliances. Sera thinks things can’t get any worse, but when you're working with the Roman god of chaos, things can always get worse.
“Bacchus created us in his image—chaos. And chaos is what we will give them.”
HER MAJESTY'S FURY is the second book in the Immortal Relics series, a New Adult Urban Fantasy adventure. Fans of Deborah Harkness, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Roman mythology will love this blend of magic, mayhem, and wry humor.
Read Excerpt #2:
By the time they located Syros’ Curios at the end of a cobblestone alley, Sera’s nose and cheeks felt numb from the cold. A small bell rang next to the door as they entered, and a voice called out in greeting above the shoppers’ din. It was remarkably busy for the time of year and location, away from the usual tourist destinations.
The store had been a staple of Bergen for centuries, ever since the man who opened it had left Syros in the Aegean Sea to make a new life in the north. Sera had no idea what would make someone abandon the Aegean for a climate as cold as Norway’s, but that’s what she found out reading the brochure while they waited for the elderly shop owner to finish helping another customer. She pulled her scarf up over her nose, hoping to warm up her face.
“Ah, hello, welcome to Syros’ Curios, where one can find just about anything if one looks hard enough. What do you seek today?” The shopkeeper peered at them over round spectacles as he approached, his thinning grey and brown hair falling like a curtain in front of his face. He kept trying to blow it away and failing.
Sera pulled her scarf back down and smiled. She hoped it was a smile, anyway. The numbness in her cheeks made it difficult to tell.
“I’m looking for a necklace for my wife,” Theo said. “Our travel agent recommended your store.” He flashed a disarming smile at the owner, playing the part of the tourist.
“A lovely piece for a lovely lady.” The shopkeeper bowed before them. “Follow me.” He led them past other shoppers and shelves of assorted antique items to a corner of the store where jewelry of all kinds filled glass display cases. “Let’s see, how about this one here? The amethyst would go well—”
“I’m looking for something a bit more rare, ‘a curiosity worthy of the divine.’” Theo dropped his tone and looked around the room as if someone might overhear him. According to his contact, the last bit was a secret phrase used to gain access to the hidden artifacts. He slipped the balding man an envelope. It was all a part of his act, but it worked like a charm.
The man took a glimpse inside the envelope. “I see you’re a man of fine tastes. Please, come with me. Anna, I’ll be back in a moment,” he called out. A woman’s muffled voice answered from the other side of the store.
He waved them behind a curtain separating the shop from a storage area then down a steep stone staircase, which seemed to narrow the farther down they went. Musty air filled Sera’s nose as they descended into almost total darkness until the man flipped a switch on the wall. The switch had been built on top of the stone with visible cables leading up to the floor above. Electricity must have been added in recent years. Continuing to speak to the age of the store, the shopkeeper withdrew a small collection of skeleton keys from his pocket and unlocked a heavy-looking wooden door at the bottom of the steps.
The switch also turned on the lights inside; it was flooded in fluorescent lights that hummed and flickered. Sera couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips as they entered. Artifacts she recognized from her studies lined the walls and covered tables haphazardly, and she would be willing to bet money they were real. She cringed at the ill-treatment.
“I've got a few jewelry pieces over here.” The man pointed to a table, which held three necklaces, but none of them a torc like they sought.
Theo frowned. “I was looking for a specific item, a torc rumored to be owned by Freyja herself.”
The man paused, squinting behind his spectacles. “The torc was sold. Just this morning.”
“Who bought it?” Theo asked.
The shopkeeper simply stared at him. Pulling out a 1000 Krone banknote, Theo placed it in the man’s thrust-out hand.
“An American man. He had white hair, thin frame, glasses. I’m sure he told me his name.” He rubbed his chin as if in thought, looking meaningfully at Theo over the top of his glasses.
“That sounds like Leif,” Sera whispered, her skin prickling with goosebumps.
Theo sighed and placed another banknote in the man’s hand.
“Ah, yes, now I remember. Mr. Karlsson. How could I forget.”
About the Author:
Stephanie Mirro's lifelong love of ancient mythology led to majoring in the Classics in college, which wasn't quite as much fun as writing her own mythology stories as she did as a child. But that education, combined with an overactive imagination and being an avid fantasy reader, resulted in a writing career.
Starting her days with coffee and ending them with wine means Stephanie can usually be found juggling household chores, keeping the kids alive, and trying to write, edit, publish, and market the stories that haunt her dreams.
Born and raised in Southern Arizona, Stephanie now resides in Northern Virginia with her husband, two kids, and two furbabies. This thing called “seasons” is still magical.