by Kari Edgren
A Grave Inheritance
By Kari Edgren
Book two of Goddess Born
Selah Kilbrid may descend from the goddess Brigid, but her heart beats—and breaks—the same as any human. Yet enduring the scorn of London’s most noble lords and ladies is a small price to pay for a chance at true happiness. Selah would endure much more for love, and her betrothed, Lord Henry Fitzalan, is prepared to challenge anyone foolish enough to stand in their way—even another goddess born.
But when a captivating young gentleman draws Selah into a world shadowed by secrets, she is forced to confront her darkest fears. What if some differences are too great to overcome and a future with Henry is doomed from the start?
With these doubts threatening her impending marriage, a violent attack on an innocent child pushes Selah to the very edge of her power. She must find a way to cross into the Otherworld and regain her strength—or forfeit the streets of London to death and disease.
100,000 words
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the December 2014 releases and happy summer! Okay, so some of you are going “what??” but these letters are often so seasonally directed that I think it’s only fair that our friends in the New Zealand and Australian parts of the world get one fit for them. Plus, I really miss summer so I’d rather talk about that than winter. Also, I’d much rather prefer to imagine I’m on a warm, sunny beach somewhere than in the cold. But whether you’re looking for a beach read or for a book to heat things up, our December releases can fit the bill.
Michele Mannon wraps up her Worth the Fight trilogy with Out for the Count. Beautiful, all-American kick ass fighter Huntley Wittaker knows in order to win an MMA championship, she must perfect her punch. But when a ball-busting brute of a biker—undercover narcotics detective Bracken Kelly—answers her ad for a trainer, she finds them both drawn into a battle far greater than she’d imagined. Though all three books in the trilogy stand alone, go ahead and pick up the first two, Knock Out and Tap Out.
Historical romance fans will be pleased to see Caroline Kimberly return with another standout historical romance. Love hurts…especially for Ethan Ashford, who’s been charged with making sure his beloved nemesis, the high-spirited Lady Kyra Deverill, makes it to the altar—to marry someone else—in An Inconvenient Wife. Don’t miss Caroline’s first book, An Inconvenient Kiss, described as Regency meets Romancing the Stone, which has gotten fantastic reviews.
If you love the reunited lovers trope, Amylynn Bright’s contemporary romance is perfect for you. In Finish What We Started, no matter how many adorable animals he brings into her clinic, Dr. Candace Claesson doesn’t plan on forgiving her ex-boyfriend for the way he ended their relationship five years ago. But when Lee to proves to her that the passion between them is still there, Candace has to decide if she’s willing to trust him with her heart one more time.
Geek girl Lexi Carmichael is back with another action adventure—and more romance. Now Lexi has to face her worst nightmare—going back to high school in order catch a group of exceptionally talented student hackers. Don’t miss No Test for the Wicked, or go back to the beginning of Julie Moffett’s entertaining series with No One Lives Twice.
If you’ve been hoping for something different in the new adult category—no college, no contemporary, something that stands out, take a look at Anne Tibbets’ futuristic dystopian duology The Line: Carrier and The Line: Walled. Naya may be former sex slave but no one will stop her as she fights to conquer both the wall around her city and the one around her heart.
Danube Adele also offers a unique look at the new adult market with her paranormal romance, Dreams of a Wild Heart. Kidnapped from Earth and taken to a planet millions of light-years away by a seemingly cold-hearted warrior with steamy aquamarine eyes, Dr. Cecilia Bradford desperately tries to find a way back to Earth before she loses her heart to the precious people in need and to a man who claims to need no one, but who won’t let her go.
With A Grave Inheritance, Keri Edgren continues her foray into the new adult historical paranormal market. Gifted healer Selah has chosen love over duty and followed her husband to London, but can she keep her dangerous secret in her new home?
Urban fantasy Firewall by Sonya Clark brings the Magic Born trilogy to a thrilling conclusion when reunited lovers risk everything to change the world. Check out the first two books in the trilogy, Trancehack and Witchlight (at least take a look at the gorgeous covers!).
In the spirit of the holiday season, don’t forget to check out some of our backlist titles including our collections of contemporary holiday romance and male/male holiday romance. All of our seasonal titles can be found here: http://bit.ly/CPHolidays. We have a wonderful collection of holiday novellas to keep you company while you wait in those long shopping lines!
Coming in January 2015: Marie Force’s romantic suspense Fatal Scandal, and Lisa Marie Rice is back with another Midnight installment. Releases in mystery, historical romance, paranormal romance, steampunk and more!
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press
Dedication
To Grace and Elsa
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the family and friends who continue to support me through this incredible journey; Dale Miller, Rebecca Jones, Dan Edgren, Tom Miller, Tonya Edgren Bindas, Cindy Burt, John Burt, Megan Curtis and Francesca Miller. This story would be for the dust bunnies without you. My utmost gratitude to my editor, the exceptionally talented Kerri Buckley at Carina Press, and my agent, the ever patient Courtney Miller-Callihan at Sanford J. Greenburger Associates. Your guidance and advice keep the threads tight. Thank you to the remarkable ladies of the Savvy Seven for the laughter and much needed perspective. To Hailey Boren and Allie McKay for saving my sanity. And finally, a love-filled thank you to Grace, Ethan, Connor, Elsa, Caelen, Vigo and Gedde, all blessings and the joy in my life.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
Mr. Chubais
Pennsylvania, August 1730
The knife felt good in my hand. The smooth bone handle curved into my palm, covering the tang and separating my fingers from the long metal blade. Etched into the burnished steel were the Gaelic words Brigid Buadach.
Brigid Victorious. The smith god Goibniu had forged the knife for the high goddess Brigid on the eve of battle against the Fomorians. It was a formidable weapon, perfectly balanced and sharp enough to remove a man’s fingers in a single stroke. Or his head if need be. The enchanted steel served one purpose—to defeat the enemy.
I tightened my grip and pushed the knife into my own enemy, lying inert on the table in my apothecary. By no means a Fomorian warrior, the mound of feverfew leaves easily submitted to Goibniu’s steel. Each downward thrust bit deeper into the pile, smearing the wooden table with green blood and filling the air with a strong, bitter scent.
Sweat beaded my forehead, both from the exertion and the fire that burned in the hearth at my back. The door, leading outside to the herb garden, had been left open for what little relief could be found on such a hot August day.
Though Brigid’s direct descendant and thus rightful heir to her knife, I was feeling far from victorious in my fight against the feverfew. A score of Fomorians would have been a welcome sight if it meant a reprieve from the seemingly endless piles of flora that had fallen beneath my blade these past few weeks. But that race had vanished from Ireland long ago, assuming they ever existed at all. No longer a child, I knew such tales of invading armies and ancient battles contained more fancy than fact, especially in light of the irrefutable evidence clenched in my right hand—in the past six years, I had nicked myself countless times with Brigid’s blade and had yet to lose a finger.
Since no Fomorians were forthcoming, I would have gladly settled for the magistrate who had sent Henry back to England without me. Lord Henry Goderic Fitzalan to be more accurate, the man I loved and planned to marry—the man who was halfway across the Atlantic by now while I was stuck in Pennsylvania chopping leaves.
Angered by these thoughts, I quickened my pace, decimating the feverfew as I reduced the pile to a fraction of its original size. Then wiping a finger along the side of the blade, I distributed the shredded pieces among a dozen glass jars, and filled each one to the top with whiskey. In a few weeks the tincture would be an effective remedy for headaches.
Late afternoon sun spilled into my apothecary, and I still needed to finish the various concoctions brewing in the hearth. No matter what the townsfolk might say about my sham marriage to Henry, they could never speak against my devotion as a healer. The room was scorching hot and my body ached from working non-stop since dawn. Reaching up, I used a sleeve to mop the sweat from my forehead.
In mid-motion, a sudden chill passed along my spine. My damp skin puckered in response, and I snapped my head up to find a man standing just inside the doorway, watching me. Sunlight haloed his long body, and a broad-brimmed hat cast deep shadows over his face. Peering closer, I glimpsed solid black eyes, so bulbous and misshapen they couldn’t possibly be human. With a gasp, I stepped back toward the fire.
The man said nothing, just continued to stare at me, his eyes glittering like an enormous beetle. A shower of white hair fell to his shoulders, framing his near-white skin and large pale mouth. He slanted forward and lifted his nose to sniff the air.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “What do you want?”
My questions went unanswered as he sniffed once more before moving farther into the room. Already backed against the fire, my only escape was through the door leading to the servants’ quarters.
On the verge of bolting, I watched the man reach up and pull off his eyes. Heavens Above! My knees swayed beneath me and I nearly screamed from the sight. Two thin metal arms appeared on either side of the bulging pupils—much like a pair of spectacles.
My scream turned to a strangled laugh, and I forced a smile to help cover my embarrassment. Only a simpleton would have made such an error, no matter the spectacle’s bizarre shape and color. From what I could tell, the lenses were not made of glass, but precious stones that had been carved to the exact size of his eye sockets.
The man folded down the metal arms and tucked them into his coat pocket. “Good day,” he said politely. “Please forgive the intrusion. I am looking for Mrs. Sarah McBres. Do you know where I may find her?”
He had managed to surprise me yet again. “Sarah McBres?” I repeated, thinking I may have misheard him.
“Yes. Are you acquainted with her?” He came farther into the room until only the table stood between us, and I saw at once why he had been wearing the odd spectacles. An albino, his pink irises were no match for the bright summer sun.
“No...I mean yes,” I said, dragging my thoughts back to his question. “Sarah was my grandmother, but she died before I was born.”
He stared at me, his pale brow folded in thought. “We received no word of her death. Nor was there word of any offspring. Tell me, how many children did Sarah beget?”
“Just my mother.” The fire cracked behind me, and I stepped forward to avoid catching my gown on fire.
“Is your mother at home?”
His directness disconcerted me. Or maybe it was the unusual softness of his voice that sent another chill along my spine. “First, I would know your name, sir, and the nature of your business with my family.”
“You may call me Mr. Chubais. I have traveled a great distance to deliver an urgent message to Sarah McBres. Since she no longer lives, I desire to speak with her daughter.”
“Well, I’m afraid that’s impossible. My mother has been dead these past four years. I am Mistress of Brighmor now, and the last of my family in the Colonies. Any message will have to be delivered to me.”
He cocked his head to one side, causing the white hair to fall away from his face just enough to reveal a grossly disfigured ear. Thick scabs covered what looked like a bite mark on the bottom lobe. More blood crusted the tip where a large chunk of cartilage was missing. The inflamed sores stood out in sharp contrast against his pale skin.
“You’ve been hurt,” I said, nodding toward the ear.
“Yes, on the road from Philadelphia. A fellow traveler did not care for my company and set his hound upon me. The attack was limited to my ear.”
His story should have moved me, but for some reason it did little to provoke my sympathy. “You are indeed fortunate,” I said matter-of-factly. “Such creatures have been known to kill men.”
A low growl emanated from deep inside his throat. “The hound took me unaware. Otherwise it would never have survived long enough for even the one bite.”
The man unnerved me, and duty alone forced my next words. “I can tend to your wounds if you wish. An ointment should take care of the infection though there’s not much to be done for the missing cartilage.”
His direct gaze moved over my face, taking each feature in turn. “Your grandmother was a renowned healer in Ireland,” he said after a moment. “You have some of her look about you. Did you inherit her skill as well?”
“I don’t know,” I lied. “She died before I was born, as I’ve already told you.”
“Maybe someone more experienced would better serve my needs. Is there a doctor in the village?”
It was an effort not to laugh. Unlike any doctor, I could have grown him a new ear in less time than it took to boil a pot of water. A bit more effort, and I might have been able to restore the color in his skin. Not that I was about to display the full extent of my power when a well-concealed fragment would do. “The closest doctor is in Philadelphia, but those sores will be seeping by the time you make it back to the city.” I shrugged indifferently. “It’s your ear. Do as you please.”
“I see.” The man’s wide lips stretched to a queer smile, revealing sharp white teeth. “What is your name, child?”
“Selah Kilbrid.” I bit my tongue to keep from adding that I was no child.
“How curious,” he said. “How curious, indeed. A Kilbrid and a McBres together in the new world.” He leaned closer and drew in another deep breath. “I should have known sooner—the scent is undeniable.”
My skin turned to gooseflesh. Without thinking, I reached for the knife, curling my fingers around the handle. The movement caught his attention and I watched his pink eyes widen in surprise. “Brigid Buadach,” he said softly. “Brigid Victorious.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, followed by the appearance of Mr. James Roth, Henry’s personal secretary and my least favorite person. For the first time in a month, I was actually glad for his company.
“Mr. Roth!” I cried. “What an unexpected surprise.”
He looked from me to Mr. Chubais. “I require some remedies for the journey
tomorrow. I will come back at another time when you are not engaged.”
“No, no, please don’t go.” I hurried from around the table to James’s side, the knife still clamped in my hand. “I believe our business is concluded, Mr. Chubais, unless you have any further questions for me?”
There was no trace of his earlier smile. “Our conversation has been most illuminating. I thank you for your time, Miss Kilbrid.” He bowed and turned to leave.
Just then I remembered the reason for his visit. “Mr. Chubias,” I called, stopping him at the door. In my panic, I had nearly let him leave without delivering the contents of his urgent message. “Did you wish to tell me something?”
Mr. Chubais half-turned and looked at me. He studied my face once more before his gaze traveled to the knife in my hand. “The heat has made me weary and the exact phrasing has slipped my mind. I shall remember later and send you word.” He reached into his coat pocket for the dark spectacles and placed them over his eyes. “Good day, Miss Kilbrid.”
I stared at the empty doorway, unsure what to make of my short interview with the albino. No doubt, he knew about Brigid’s descendants or he never would have understood the significance of my parents’ marriage, the marriage of a McBres and a Kilbrid. And what did he mean that the scent was undeniable?
James cleared his throat. “An acquaintance of yours?” he asked, with open disdain for the albino. Not that I expected otherwise—he had yet to approve of anything about my life, me included.
I shook my head. “This is the first time I have ever seen him. He inquired about my grandmother, and by the way he spoke, he seemed to have known her from before she came to the Colonies. I’m not sure how though as she left Ireland more than forty years ago.”
“Oh, yes,” James said. “I almost forgot about your unfortunate connection to that godforsaken land. The king, I’m sure, will not be so negligent once he learns how you’ve stolen his nephew’s attention from Princess Amelia.”
