Welcome to The Faerie Race—an epic adventure through a realm as compelling as it is deadly…Fame. Fortune. Your most extravagant wish granted. These are the prizes promised to the team that wins The Faerie Race, the first and only reality television show to venture into the dangerous realm of the fae. But that’s not why Jacqueline Cunningham wants in. She’s after any sign of her sister—who vanished without a trace into the faerie world two years ago.Jacq thought getting into the race would be the hard part. But she didn’t count on the other competitors—who will stop at nothing to finish first. Or her distractingly-handsome jerk of a partner, who seems to be hiding secrets of his own.Plunged into a world where everything wants to kill her, what starts as a hunt for the truth turns into a desperate contest for survival. Now that Jacq’s in the race, it will take all her wits to make it to the finish line alive.The Sorcery Trial is Book One in The Faerie Race, a nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat thrill ride through a realm unlike anything you’ve ever seen.
Genre: FICTION / Fantasy / Urban LifeIt is currently at 5000 in the US Amazon store
I noticed two things in quick succession. One—the tips of his ears tapered to a delicate point. And two—his white button-down had been soaked in a tidal wave of coffee. The first meant he was a faerie. The second meant he had the misfortune of running into me.
My hands shook before me, empty of the carrying tray and the four venti quadruple shot Americanos I had just bought with the intention of ferrying them back to the studio headquarters. My pulse pounded like a jackhammer in my ears, adrenaline coursing through me.
The perky woman behind the counter goggled at us, adding to my unease.
I narrowed my eyes at her, hoping she would get the point that I didn’t really need an audience right now. We were in Hollywood for goodness sakes—huge stars of the screen frequented this coffee shop day in, day out. Of course, if it was merely a famous actor I’d thrown coffee all over, my heart wouldn’t be beating like a marching band, and none of this would be an issue. No, the male in front of me was no actor. He was a faerie. Here. In Los Angeles.
I took a deep breath and tried to keep my breakfast on the inside. Down on the floor, the four now-empty cups with my name misspelled on all of them—Jack instead of Jacq mocked me, swimming as they were in a sea of black and pale brown liquid.
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French
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Already translated.
Translated by Vieru Raluca Maria
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Carmelo Massimo Tidona
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Jesus Ocando
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