New Release: Edmund, Accountant of the Night – Angel Martinez

QSFer Angel Martinez has a new cosy MM fantasy romance out, Merseton Tales book 2: Edmund, Accountant of the Night.

A vampire on the run. An elf in need of a purpose.

Ro Laceleaf, failed forester, is the sole member of Merseton’s town watch. It’s not an exciting job by any means, but after Geoffrey’s disastrous necromantic experiments, the townsfolk insist it’s necessary. Ro is both diligent and bored out of his skull, until one night he’s called to an emergency at Mrs. Pickle’s. A vampire is attacking her house.

On the run for several years, Edmund is near starvation and out of options. His last hope for refuge? Merseton. He’s heard the town welcomes people outside the ordinary. Edmund’s certainly not an ordinary vampire. While he expected suspicion and initial hostility, he didn’t anticipate a beating with a wet kitchen mop.

Ro needs to make the determination—is Edmund a monster or a potential resident? The more he speaks to Edmund, the more horrified Ro becomes over what he’s been through. Edmund’s telling the truth—Ro’s certain of that—but he’s not telling all of it. Ro needs to gain Edmund’s trust to learn the whole story, about Edmund and the terrifying enemies hunting him, while not letting Edmund become a distraction. Yes, fine, he’s already a distraction. But Ro’s not going to fail, not this time. The town, and Edmund, will be safe, no matter what Ro has to do.

This book contains an adorable fruit bat, geese of frightening properties (since when aren’t they?), co-habitating demons, and a guaranteed HEA.

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Excerpt

Serpentine tendrils of silver mist wove through the autumn fields, coiling through harvested stalks and the last of the season’s squash. The night creature paused atop

the final hill on the road to Merseton, surveying the hamlet below as it lay silent in innocent slumber.

Most maps omitted the town, a speck of a rumor of a place with only shrugs and vague warnings in answer to questions about it. Even the vaguest of rumors could still be lies—and yet, the town was here. Maybe other true things would follow.

No crackle of dry leaves, no stomp of hobnailed travel boots heralded his passage as he glided down the hill, his dark-adapted eyes searching the outskirts. Lights farther on might have been a tavern open late or a bakery starting the first of the morning’s bread. He didn’t want these. Too great a chance of a small crowd.

Too many eyes.

There. A house on the outskirts of town showed a single lamp burning downstairs. Much more promising. He edged closer, waiting for some hint of who the occupant was.

Delicate lace sheers obscured the windows, though enough of a gap remained to reveal a broad trestle table with preparations for baking in progress and a fieldstone oven with an arched iron door. A single shadow moved behind the shears, bustling about with an odd, waddling gait. Possibly an elderly human or someone not human at all.

Silently, he took the gravel path through the kitchen garden, stopping before the neat stones of the little patio by the back door. Experience cautioned him to stop, to observe a bit longer, the decision vindicated as the figure in the kitchen stilled in an attitude of listening. If the person had heard him, they were assuredly not human.

He had just decided to retreat and continue watching from a distance when the door flew open, blinding him with the full light from the kitchen. Something unpleasantly wet and stringy struck him repeatedly in the face while a strange, whistling voice shouted, “Get back! You are not welcome here, blood stalker!”

Author Bio

Angel writes (mostly) Science Fiction and Fantasy centered around queer heroes. Currently living part time in the hectic sprawl of northern Delaware and full time inside her head, she has one husband, one son, two cats, a love of all things beautiful and a terrible addiction to the consumption of both knowledge and chocolate.