Enter mortal Annie Duran, who hires him to look for her brother Richard, missing and presmed dead for ten years. Annie has seen Richard in the parking lot of the nightclub where she works. Now she wants answers, and Grim’s supposed to find them.
The quest for Richard ensnares both Grim and Annie in a sinister conspiracy involving kidnapped women and outlaw magic. But they also discover their own overwhelming attraction to each other.
When Annie herself disappears, Grim’s need for answers becomes even more urgent. With the help of a dissolute prince and a motley crew of unlikely fairies, Grim confronts a rebellion among the Folk.
And it may take more than just magic and luck to save both Annie and Grim this time.
Just Don’t Call Them Fairies
When I started working on Away, I knew I wanted to create a group of fairies living in Colorado (around the house, we referred to it as my “fairies in the Rockies” book), but I didn’t know much about fairies in general. I had to do a lot of research, mainly in Anna Franklin’s Illustrated Encyclopedia of Faeries. I learned a lot about them, but I also learned that most of the pre-existing ideas I had were wrong.
First of all, I think most of us have an idea of fairies that’s based on illustrations in Victorian fairy tale books: tiny women dressed in tulle with transparent wings and magic wands. Or points of shimmering light like Tinker Bell. But the fairies that show up in most cultures aren’t dainty or cute at all. Some of them, like the Hag fairies, are close to monsters. Others like Frau Hulda, a hag who brings the snow in Germany, are derived from earlier gods or goddesses and demoted to fairy status. In folklore, fairies are more likely to be malevolent than friendly, and some, like Brownies, may start out friendly but turn vicious if they’re insulted.
The more I read about these mysterious beings, the more interested I became. Fairy societies live alongside human societies in most cultures. In some places, it’s common to leave food and drink for the fairies who live in your house, and in others, fairies have their own special places that mortals avoid out of respect with a healthy side order of dread.
So I created the world of the Folk. They’re human, but humans with certain magical powers that may not be immediately apparent. My hero, Grim Morrigan, can communicate with animals and open locks with a murmured hex, a helpful skill for a policeman like Grim. My heroine, Annie Duran, isn’t a member of the Folk, but like humans in fairy tales she stumbles into their society by accident. Her brother Richard disappeared and was presumed dead when she was twelve, but Annie swears she saw him in a nightclub parking lot. Searching for Richard plunges Annie and Grim into the complex Folk society, which is meant to stay secret from humans. As they probe deeper into the mysteries surrounding the Folk, they discover a sinister conspiracy that may destroy everyone around them.
One more thing: fairies in folklore have a thing about not being named. Rumpelstiltskin isn’t the only one who wants to stay anonymous. My fairies don’t like being called fairies. In fact, it’s a kind of insult. Grim tries to explain this to Annie:
“They have lots of names. Most of us call them the Folk. Some call them the Fae.”
“The Folk,” she repeated. When she raised her eyes to meet his, he spotted definite shock. “The Fae. Holy crap. Fairies. You’re talking about fairies!”
He gritted his teeth. “I said they had a lot of names. That, however, is not one of them. Or rather, it’s not one any of them use. In fact, you’d be better off forgetting it, especially if you’re around anyone you suspect of being a member of the Folk. Some of them can get very upset.”
“But . . .” She tilted her head to the side. “But that’s what they are, right?”
“No. They’re the Folk. The Fae. The Fata. The Feadh-Ree. Every country has a name for them. Except this one. Because here they don’t exist. Here they’ve chosen not to exist. At least not openly. Call them by their rightful name, with respect, and you may be safe. Call them by the wrong name, and one of them might decide to do something nasty. They’re not the most principled beings in the world.”
So a word to the wise: they’re the Folk. But yeah, deep down, they’re fairies, too.
First of all, I think most of us have an idea of fairies that’s based on illustrations in Victorian fairy tale books: tiny women dressed in tulle with transparent wings and magic wands. Or points of shimmering light like Tinker Bell. But the fairies that show up in most cultures aren’t dainty or cute at all. Some of them, like the Hag fairies, are close to monsters. Others like Frau Hulda, a hag who brings the snow in Germany, are derived from earlier gods or goddesses and demoted to fairy status. In folklore, fairies are more likely to be malevolent than friendly, and some, like Brownies, may start out friendly but turn vicious if they’re insulted.
The more I read about these mysterious beings, the more interested I became. Fairy societies live alongside human societies in most cultures. In some places, it’s common to leave food and drink for the fairies who live in your house, and in others, fairies have their own special places that mortals avoid out of respect with a healthy side order of dread.
So I created the world of the Folk. They’re human, but humans with certain magical powers that may not be immediately apparent. My hero, Grim Morrigan, can communicate with animals and open locks with a murmured hex, a helpful skill for a policeman like Grim. My heroine, Annie Duran, isn’t a member of the Folk, but like humans in fairy tales she stumbles into their society by accident. Her brother Richard disappeared and was presumed dead when she was twelve, but Annie swears she saw him in a nightclub parking lot. Searching for Richard plunges Annie and Grim into the complex Folk society, which is meant to stay secret from humans. As they probe deeper into the mysteries surrounding the Folk, they discover a sinister conspiracy that may destroy everyone around them.
One more thing: fairies in folklore have a thing about not being named. Rumpelstiltskin isn’t the only one who wants to stay anonymous. My fairies don’t like being called fairies. In fact, it’s a kind of insult. Grim tries to explain this to Annie:
“They have lots of names. Most of us call them the Folk. Some call them the Fae.”
“The Folk,” she repeated. When she raised her eyes to meet his, he spotted definite shock. “The Fae. Holy crap. Fairies. You’re talking about fairies!”
He gritted his teeth. “I said they had a lot of names. That, however, is not one of them. Or rather, it’s not one any of them use. In fact, you’d be better off forgetting it, especially if you’re around anyone you suspect of being a member of the Folk. Some of them can get very upset.”
“But . . .” She tilted her head to the side. “But that’s what they are, right?”
“No. They’re the Folk. The Fae. The Fata. The Feadh-Ree. Every country has a name for them. Except this one. Because here they don’t exist. Here they’ve chosen not to exist. At least not openly. Call them by their rightful name, with respect, and you may be safe. Call them by the wrong name, and one of them might decide to do something nasty. They’re not the most principled beings in the world.”
So a word to the wise: they’re the Folk. But yeah, deep down, they’re fairies, too.
A wall of darkness had appeared in the road, snuffing out the light. The illumination from their chemlights seemed to bounce back, unable to penetrate the gloom.
Behind her, Grim brought the car to a stop. “What is it?”
“Darkness,” Bertie said tersely. “All dark.”
A sound seemed to grow in front of them, a roaring grumble, like a distant waterfall. A distant waterfall that was somehow getting louder. Annie bit her lip, piercing the dark with her suddenly puny flare.
“It’s coming closer,” Bertie said softly.
Annie stared. The wall of darkness was moving, blanking out everything it touched. Annihilating the night around them.
The SUV door opened behind her.
“Annie,” Grim urged. “Get inside.”
“What about the light?”
“Screw the light! Get in the damn car.”
Bertie stepped in front of her, taking the flare from her hand. “Do what he says.” He moved into the middle of the road, extending his arms with a Cyalume in each hand.
Annie ducked into the car beside Grim, slamming the door behind her. The rumble seemed to be coming from the inky wall, like the sound of darkness advancing.
In front of them, Bertie extended his arms from his body in a V. The Cyalumes trembled. Grim opened the door again. “The flares don’t help. Get in, Bertie. Now.”
After another moment, Bertie opened the back door, bringing the lights with him. Their orange tinge glowed, ghostly inside the SUV.
“What is it?” Grim’s voice sounded tight.
“No idea. I’ve never seen anything like it before. What are you going to do?”
Grim pushed the SUV in gear. “Play chicken. With the armies of the night.”
Behind her, Grim brought the car to a stop. “What is it?”
“Darkness,” Bertie said tersely. “All dark.”
A sound seemed to grow in front of them, a roaring grumble, like a distant waterfall. A distant waterfall that was somehow getting louder. Annie bit her lip, piercing the dark with her suddenly puny flare.
“It’s coming closer,” Bertie said softly.
Annie stared. The wall of darkness was moving, blanking out everything it touched. Annihilating the night around them.
The SUV door opened behind her.
“Annie,” Grim urged. “Get inside.”
“What about the light?”
“Screw the light! Get in the damn car.”
Bertie stepped in front of her, taking the flare from her hand. “Do what he says.” He moved into the middle of the road, extending his arms with a Cyalume in each hand.
Annie ducked into the car beside Grim, slamming the door behind her. The rumble seemed to be coming from the inky wall, like the sound of darkness advancing.
In front of them, Bertie extended his arms from his body in a V. The Cyalumes trembled. Grim opened the door again. “The flares don’t help. Get in, Bertie. Now.”
After another moment, Bertie opened the back door, bringing the lights with him. Their orange tinge glowed, ghostly inside the SUV.
“What is it?” Grim’s voice sounded tight.
“No idea. I’ve never seen anything like it before. What are you going to do?”
Grim pushed the SUV in gear. “Play chicken. With the armies of the night.”
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ReplyDeleteThanks for letting me talk about the Folk today!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed getting to know your book and thanks for the chance to win :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for visiting, Lisa.
ReplyDeleteLike the cover, sounds good.
ReplyDeleteSounds good! i love secrets :)
ReplyDeleteAwesome. Thanks for hosting.
ReplyDeleteSounds good
ReplyDeleteThis sounds really good. It seems like it would be hard to put this one down.
ReplyDeleteI loved the fun facts thanks.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing the fun facts and excerpt!
ReplyDeleteAway sounds like a good read. Thank you
ReplyDeleterock on, Let's go!!
ReplyDeleteI would like to give thanks for all your really great writings, including Away. I wish the best in keeping up the good work in the future.
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