C. Gockel has been writing stories for her friends and family since the dark ages (i.e., before word processors existed.) A few years ago, she started posting those stories to the intertubes. She received emails, messages, and reviews from her fans telling her she should 'do this professionally.' She didn't; she is a coward and life as a digital designer, copywriter and coder is more dependable. But in the end, her husband's nagging wore her down: "You could be the next '50 Shades of Gray' and I could retire!" Unfortunately, the author writes science fiction and fantasy, and isn't particularly good at writing erotica. She is sad about this; she'd love for her husband to be able to retire and just work for her so she could nag him.

C. Gockel has been writing stories for her friends and family since the dark ages (i.e., before word processors existed.) A few years ago, she started posting those stories to the intertubes. She received emails, messages, and reviews from her fans telling her she should 'do this professionally.' She didn't; she is a coward and life as a digital designer, copywriter and coder is more dependable. But in the end, her husband's nagging wore her down: "You could be the next '50 Shades of Gray' and I could retire!" Unfortunately, the author writes science fiction and fantasy, and isn't particularly good at writing erotica. She is sad about this; she'd love for her husband to be able to retire and just work for her so she could nag him.

Blood So Red (Includes Book 1!) by C. Gockel

Once upon a future-time, in a city of steel, concrete, and Magick, a wicked queen trapped a mighty warrior with a curse … In the tiny village of Somer, far from the city, Cherie knows nothing of the evil spell. Her home is a safe, Magickal place. The Fae travel freely along its roads, Magickal humans and animals are welcome, and everyone is hidden from the Queen's sight by Jack Frost, the local ghost, who blurs the Queen's mirror with snow and ice.

But when Jack's spell begins to crack, the Queen's eyes fall on Somer. Nothing will keep her from abducting all of Somer's Magickals, not even a war with the Fae.

To avert a war, save her village—and herself—Cherie strikes a perilous bargain. Aided only by Jack and her own small Magick, she'll set off on a quest … If she fails, she'll lose more than her life.

CURATOR'S NOTE

StoryBundle readers are in for a treat with this double offering from C. Gockel. Her unique spin on fairytale retellings, queens and curses, and steadfast heroines has won her many happy readers. Plus, she's a wonderful author to work with on collaborative projects, which I've been lucky enough to do for many years. I know you'll enjoy these first two books in her Urban Magik & Folklore series. – Anthea Sharp

 

REVIEWS

  • "I was hooked from the first page, reading late into the night past normal sleepiness"

    – AKS, Amazon U.S.

  • "I loved this futuristic urban fantasy! The romance was so good and the way it developed throughout the story was amazing. It was central but not central. The story and the addition of Grendel was engaging and I absolutely loved the humor!"

    – Hoops, Amazon US

  • "Brilliantly crafted story, loving the characters, Grendel is awesome. Unexpected yet successful mythology included, will def be getting the next."

    – Kindle Customer, Amazon UK

  • "This as one of the best stories I've read in a really long time...take a childhood story, set it in a mystical, fantastical dystopian earth, twist and warp the characters to be complex and compelling, subtle plot formations and twists...full page turner."

    – LF, Amazon AU
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Mirror, Mirror on the wall,
Have I all the Magickals?
My Queen you control all I see
But there are places unknown to me
Look you to the land of snow
That is where I cannot go
* * *


Pain screamed up Cherie's arm and shoulder, and she was flung against the bus with teeth-rattling force, breath rushing out of her, knees going weak from the shock of it.

"Where do you think you're going?" the driver asked. There was the click of a safety, and something metal and cold was pressed against her temple. It was not so cold as the charm Nnenne had given to her, and the cold of its Magickal warning of danger biting at her throat.

He shook her, rattling her teeth again, wrenching her arm higher.

Think, think, think … Cherie told herself. But she couldn't formulate anything in the haze of pain.

"Did you hear somethin'?" the driver's companion asked.

The driver's hold slackened, and with it, the veil of Cherie's agony and fear.

"You're imagining things," the driver replied.

The charm's Magickal cold became like a lance, shooting through Cherie's layers of clothing. She knew with sudden, crystal-clear clarity, there was something more dangerous than the driver and his friend out there. Something more dangerous than the Queen and her guard chasing her. Something more dangerous than the cold and thickly falling snow. Cherie forgot to be afraid of the man holding a pistol to her temple, even forgot her pain. "Have to get away," she whispered, trying to warn the man who had trapped her, who was hurting her. She could bargain with the two of them later, convince them she was Magickal and could help them … or something … to keep them from harming her, but they had to get away, now.

Mistaking her meaning, the driver wrenched her arm, making her cry out. Yanking her away from the bus, he hissed, "You're not going anywhere."

Back to them, standing in the headlight beams, the other man said, "I'm sure I heard somethin'."

There was a murmur in the night, like that of a gentle breeze, a sort of sigh, and then a thud. The charm on Cherie's neck made her chest feel as though it had turned to ice, and she screamed.

The driver shook her. "Be still now, girl! Bobby, get over here."

Cherie whimpered, but not with pain. The driver pushed her toward the front of the bus, using her body as a shield. "Bobby? Bobby, what the hell are you foolin'?"

Cherie bit her lip, the cold spreading from her charm to her limbs. They rounded the front of the vehicle, and in the headlights' glow, she saw what looked like a bundle of rags with a man's lower torso and legs protruding from beneath it. A shadowy stain was slowly spreading across the snow like spilled ink.

It was the driver's turn to whimper. "What?"

And suddenly the heap of rags had eyes that were human but shone in the night and a bloodstained maw for a mouth. The pistol left Cherie's temple. Shots rang out, leaving her right ear ringing.

The driver flung Cherie aside, and she found herself staring down at "Bobby" without the bundle of rags covering him. His shotgun was bent and useless. His eyes were wide open, and his throat was a deep red-brown gash in the headlights. The stain in the snow bloomed around him, crimson where the lights touched it.

Cherie's heart stopped. For a moment time seemed to halt, too. Only the snow moved, fluttering and sparkling through the headlight beams.

The whole horrible day flashed through Cherie's mind. When it had begun, it had almost been … normal. She swallowed.

They'd warned her she'd face monsters.