“Just call me Ishmael”

Well… actually, I prefer Kryssie Fortune, but I’m sure you
recognized the opening sentence from Moby Dick. So why am I talking about whales
when I want to tell you about my new book Curse of the Fae King? Because the story
starts in Whitby.

Still no wiser?

Let me explain. Whitby was once
one of Britain’s
biggest whaling towns. Now, thanks to its Dracula connections, it’s the Goth Capital
of the World. This quaint Yorkshire town, has a
rich history replete with Celtic princesses, dark-age church synods, Viking slavers,
and…wait for it…whalers. Meena–named after the heroine in Bram Stoker’s book
–wants to show you around.

Hi. I didn’t
want to love Whitby,
but when the Witch Council banished me from the otherworld, I found my spiritual
home. It’s got Goth links, and a quayside Dracula Experience, but most of all it’s
got the abbey. That’s where I first met my Leo, but back then he was all arrogance
and pride–a warrior to the core. He thought all he had to do was crook his finger
in my direction and I’d let him into my panties. He really didn’t like it when I
told him no. Okay, it was hard, since with his smooth voice, bullwhip, and rapier
he’s the sexiest thing ever.

Leo even thought I’d tried to poach
his newly hatched war dragon. I didn’t, of course, but the poor thing was lost and
hungry so I fed him my cheese sandwich. Is it my fault they bond with whoever feeds
them first?

Leo should have taken better care
of him in the first place. He hated the name I chose for our dragon too, but he
wanted something menacing like Dreadnought or Valiant, but my name stuck. What is
it? Not telling. You’ll have read Kryssie’s book to find out. Meanwhile, here’s
a photograph of the abbey. It’s always peaceful–and windy–up there.

After Leo left me–freaking left me
when I wanted him so badly–in the grounds, I’d no option but head off back to my
mother’s herb farm. Have you seen the Church Stairs? There’s 199 of them, but going
down’s okay. Going up’s a chore. Back in the olden days pallbearers had a specially
created resting place half way up. The locals didn’t want anyone having a heart
attack before the funeral. I know it’s flippant, but one corpse at a time please.
Leo–King Leonidas of the Fae to you–just glowered at me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have
said that.

Anyway, the Goth shop where I used
to work is on the other bank of the river, right across the Edwardian swing bridge.
It only opens at high tide but it brings the town to a standstill. The tourists
love it. Us locals, not so much.

I dropped in at the Goth shop recently,
and they’ve still got that yappy Yorkshire terrier. I once thought that bad tempered
dog might be my familiar, but I’m really glad he’s not. So, who is? Again I’m not
telling. Leo says that’s classified information, but anyone who sees me at work
has a whopping great clue.

Apparently Maggie, the Goth shop’s
owner, has forgiven me for telling that witch wannabe that working sky clad out
on the moors was just plain dumb. How was I to know her and her giggly friends were
more exhibitionists than witches? Although, what with being naked and all–they
were more likely to get goosebumps than work magic. Those Yorkshire
moors are cold.

Maggie even offered me my old job
back, but I’ve got a new role now, and Leo makes sure I get enough rest between
working. Well, he insists we go to bed early, but that’s not the same thing at all…if
you get my drift.

That’s all my special places, but
since Kryssie started with whales, I’ll finish with

So strong is Whitby’s
whaling tradition that the Inuit Indians gifted Whitby with a mammoth set of whalebones. One hundred
years later, in 1963 they sent a new set, along with the then Miss Alaska who ceremonially presented
them to the town. Gosh, I’ve not even started on Captain Cook, but I thought you
might like to see this scaled down version of his ship, the Endeavour.

Right, got to dash. The Elf Overlord’s
expected at the Fae court anytime soon, but he’s not in my good books right now.
Elves treat their women dreadfully, as I found out first hand. What with their lies,
deceits, and their turn-you-into-a-nymphomaniac sex potion. Later, I’ve got something
special…and very private…planned with Leo. I’m not saying what, but it involves
Lipstick.

See you later.

****

Curse of the Fae King has history, a seemingly impossible romance,
misogynistic elves, and a newly hatched dragon who is up for any mischief. Throw
in the worst carnivorous plant infestation you can imagine, a witch, a vampire–and
of course, the Fae king–and Meena’s about to learn so many secrets she can barely
keep up. And did I mention scorching hot sex? That makes it in there too.

Publisher http://www.loose-id.com/curse-of-the-fae-king.html

Amazon  http://tinyurl.com/pa6ybsr

Website http://www.kryssiefortune.webeden.co.uk/

Twitter https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kryssie-Fortune-Author-Page/267100286738528

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Dar Albert for her sensational
cover..

Thanks to Petr Kratochvil for
the use of his public domain photo. For more of his work check out http://tinyurl.com/nhu3buq

All other photographs are by Kryssie
Fortune.