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ANNOUNCEMENT: Kissing the Wizard – Lou Sylvre

Kissing The Wizard - Lou Sylvre

QSFer Lou Sylvre has a new MM fantasy romance out: The Wizard’s Kiss.

When worlds collide a shifter joins a warrior’s mission; anything might happen—even love.

  • Valentine’s Day short story, a shifter and a warrior
  • A magical romantic comedy (including a hungry dragon)
  • Undeniable attraction and sweet romance
  • Laugh out loud humor
  • A Lou Sylvre happy ending

On Valentine’s Day, a lonely shifter flies over the Okanogan Wilderness looking for adventure, knowing romance is the one thing he’s least likely to find out there. Imagine his surprise when he finds himself blasted from the sky only to land on a strong, handsome, and oddly calm man dressed something like a gladiator.

The renowned warrior Li did not plan to spend his day trying to free his wizard employer from the clutches of a sorceress. Spells collide, and a big black bird falls on his head and turns into a fine and scantily dressed man, but he’s not sure how much help that will be.

Guthrie is fond of saying, “Anything can happen.” He’s convinced that doesn’t mean romance, but is it possible he’s more right than he ever guessed?

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Excerpt

Guthrie’s day began to go weird when, as he circled above the forested ridges and valleys of the wild country, he spotted a castle. With turrets. And murder holes. And a portcullis barring a stone gateway. The structure could have been conjured from a page out of the Brothers Grimm, and it couldn’t possibly be real.

Guthrie had lived for the past ten years in and around Tonasket. He’d stretched his snow-drifted adolescent wings flying over this part of the Okanogan. If such a castle had been there, he would have seen it before—it would have been hard to miss.

As he flew, he tilted his wings into the wind to smooth out his turns and worked them once, twice to ride the drafts, but all that was done by instinct. His entire mind— which remained mostly human except for an occasional preoccupation with claiming carrion or hunting rodents—was concentrated on the building he could only call a castle. Specifically on a particular stone-framed, unglazed window in the highest turret, and the voice he heard coming from the room beyond it.

“Don’t come any closer, Georgina,” said that voice. “I mean it, you old hex-tosser.”

Curiosity piqued to say the least, Guthrie circled down to get closer.

“Oh you’ve got me scared now, Mr. Charlatan,” answered a reed-thin voice with a cackle and an accent that made Guthrie think of Nova Scotia.

He flew in closer.

“Not another step,” the first voice said. “I promise you I will take drastic measures.”

Guthrie was just drawing even with the window, about to get a look inside, when he spotted something across the canyon, something just as unusual and even more interesting.

A man. An anachronistically leather-clad man with a Grecian physique. Standing on a rock ledge near the top of sheer rock wall.

He was just thinking, never say never, when the sky exploded, and shit got weird…er. Weirder.


Author Bio


Lou Sylvre…

…loves stories and likes to conjure them into books. When the stories are about love, the sweethearts on her pages are most often men who end up loving each other and likely saving each other from unspeakable danger.

Her stories always include magic —sometimes it’s easy to spot, sometimes not so much.

As if you’d want to know more, she’ll happily tell you that she is a proudly bisexual woman—a mother, grandmother, and cat-herder (with a dog). Her love of languages is no doubt a result of her interestingly mixed up heritage. Her over-the-top love of her rainbow-colored demi-tasse set cannot be adequately explained.

She also loves music coffee, chocolate, and wild roses. As a writer, she works closely with lead cat assistant Boudreau St. Clair. Lou grew up in the Los Angeles area, where barefoot was always best for a kid. She now lives in the lush, rainy part of the Pacific Northwest, and hearing from a reader unfailingly brightens the dismal weather.

Her email is louwrites@rainbowgate.com.

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