February 13, 2014

Touring Whitby: Curse of the Fae King @KryssieFortune #RLFblog #paranormal

Curse of the Fae King 
"Just call me Ishmael"
Well... actually, I prefer Kryssie Fortune, but I'm sure you recognized the opening sentence from Moby Dick. So why am I talking about whales when I want to tell you about my new book Curse of the Fae King? Because the story starts in Whitby.
Still no wiser?
Let me explain. Whitby was once one of Britain's biggest whaling towns. Now, thanks to its Dracula connections, it's the Goth Capital of the World. This quaint Yorkshire town, has a rich history replete with Celtic princesses, dark-age church synods, Viking slavers, and...wait for it...whalers. Meena--named after the heroine in Bram Stoker's book --wants to show you around.

Meena's Whitby Tour

Hi. I didn't want to love Whitby, but when the Witch Council banished me from the otherworld, I found my spiritual home. It's got Goth links, and a quayside Dracula Experience, but most of all it's got the abbey. That's where I first met my Leo, but back then he was all arrogance and pride--a warrior to the core. He thought all he had to do was crook his finger in my direction and I'd let him into my panties. He really didn't like it when I told him no. Okay, it was hard, since with his smooth voice, bullwhip, and rapier he's the sexiest thing ever.
Church Steps
Leo even thought I'd tried to poach his newly hatched war dragon. I didn't, of course, but the poor thing was lost and hungry so I fed him my cheese sandwich. Is it my fault they bond with whoever feeds them first?
Leo should have taken better care of him in the first place. He hated the name I chose for our dragon too, but he wanted something menacing like Dreadnought or Valiant, but my name stuck. What is it? Not telling. You'll have read Kryssie's book to find out. Meanwhile, here's a photograph of the abbey. It's always peaceful--and windy--up there.
After Leo left me--freaking left me when I wanted him so badly--in the grounds, I'd no option but head off back to my mother's herb farm. Have you seen the Church Stairs? There's 199 of them, but going down's okay. Going up's a chore. Back in the olden days pallbearers had a specially created resting place half way up. The locals didn't want anyone having a heart attack before the funeral. I know it's flippant, but one corpse at a time please. Leo--King Leonidas of the Fae to you--just glowered at me. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that.
Ship in harbor 
Anyway, the Goth shop where I used to work is on the other bank of the river, right across the Edwardian swing bridge. It only opens at high tide but it brings the town to a standstill. The tourists love it. Us locals, not so much.
I dropped in at the Goth shop recently, and they've still got that yappy Yorkshire terrier. I once thought that bad tempered dog might be my familiar, but I'm really glad he's not. So, who is? Again I'm not telling. Leo says that's classified information, but anyone who sees me at work has a whopping great clue.
Apparently Maggie, the Goth shop's owner, has forgiven me for telling that witch wannabe that working sky clad out on the moors was just plain dumb. How was I to know her and her giggly friends were more exhibitionists than witches? Although, what with being naked and all--they were more likely to get goosebumps than work magic. Those Yorkshire moors are cold.
Maggie even offered me my old job back, but I've got a new role now, and Leo makes sure I get enough rest between working. Well, he insists we go to bed early, but that's not the same thing at all...if you get my drift.
That's all my special places, but since Kryssie started with whales, I'll finish with
Castle ruins
So strong is Whitby's whaling tradition that the Inuit Indians gifted Whitby with a mammoth set of whalebones. One hundred years later, in 1963 they sent a new set, along with the then Miss Alaska who ceremonially presented them to the town. Gosh, I've not even started on Captain Cook, but I thought you might like to see this scaled down version of his ship, the Endeavour.
Right, got to dash. The Elf Overlord's expected at the Fae court anytime soon, but he's not in my good books right now. Elves treat their women dreadfully, as I found out first hand. What with their lies, deceits, and their turn-you-into-a-nymphomaniac sex potion. Later, I've got something special...and very private...planned with Leo. I'm not saying what, but it involves Lipstick.
See you later.
Whalebone arch
Curse of the Fae King has history, a seemingly impossible romance, misogynistic elves, and a newly hatched dragon who is up for any mischief. Throw in the worst carnivorous plant infestation you can imagine, a witch, a vampire--and of course, the Fae king--and Meena's about to learn so many secrets she can barely keep up. And did I mention scorching hot sex? That makes it in there too.

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Thanks to Dar Albert for her sensational cover..
Thanks to Petr Kratochvil for the use of his public domain photo. For more of his work check out http://tinyurl.com/nhu3buq

All other photographs are by Kryssie Fortune.

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