**Fireborne by McKenzie Hunter**
Good Morning,
Everyone! So thrilled to see you all today! Today I have another new-to-me
author to share with you! She is here to tell us more about her Raven Cursed series and the book that started it! Please
allow me to feature on the blog McKenzie Hunter and her book, FIREBORNE, book one in the series ... Plus, a GIVEAWAY!
**MCKENZIE HUNTER**
**BIO**
McKenzie,
as a child, discovered that her life could be a whirlwind of adventures by
simply opening a book. To this day, reading is still her favorite activity.
She has a fondness for fantasy and mystery, which is probably why she
writes urban fantasy.
When McKenzie isn't working on her next book she is usually binge-watching paranormal and comedy shows, maintaining her title as "favorite auntie", or trying to create a tasty low-calorie pizza. McKenzie loves to hear from her readers. Feel free to contact her via her website, Facebook, or email.
When McKenzie isn't working on her next book she is usually binge-watching paranormal and comedy shows, maintaining her title as "favorite auntie", or trying to create a tasty low-calorie pizza. McKenzie loves to hear from her readers. Feel free to contact her via her website, Facebook, or email.
To
find out more about Ms. Hunter, please visit:
**FIREBORNE**
Publication
date:
November 1, 2019
Series:
Raven Cursed #1
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy
**BLURB**
My magic isn’t
just a curse – it’s an addiction. I crave it the way some people crave
chocolate. But, chocolate doesn’t kill – my magic does.
I’m Raven Cursed. When I borrow magic from someone, they die. That’s always been the case—until I met my client, the devilishly handsome and enigmatic Mephisto. He has his own brand of unique magic and a mysterious past he’s determined to keep to himself.
He knows that I’m the one to call anytime a curse goes wrong, a magical object is lost, or a rogue supernatural needs apprehending. So he offers a trade. He’ll give me his magic, and in return, I accept a job from him.
It seems like a simple deal until all hell breaks loose. We have to team up to stop a god from unleashing destruction upon the city. It leaves me to wonder: can I battle a god with the devil at my back?
I’m Raven Cursed. When I borrow magic from someone, they die. That’s always been the case—until I met my client, the devilishly handsome and enigmatic Mephisto. He has his own brand of unique magic and a mysterious past he’s determined to keep to himself.
He knows that I’m the one to call anytime a curse goes wrong, a magical object is lost, or a rogue supernatural needs apprehending. So he offers a trade. He’ll give me his magic, and in return, I accept a job from him.
It seems like a simple deal until all hell breaks loose. We have to team up to stop a god from unleashing destruction upon the city. It leaves me to wonder: can I battle a god with the devil at my back?
**EXCERPT**
“Emotions—fear, anger, frustration—they all have a distinctive
smell, a noticeable physiological change.” The languid lilt to his voice
matched the way he sat on my sofa. He sighed, his voice cloying—annoyingly
sweet. “How can I mend the rift in our friendship?” he asked.
“First we would have to have a friendship. We were never friends
and never will be. I don’t trust you.”
“And that breaks my heart,” he purred. “Tell me how to get that
trust?” It had a hint of mockery to it, and I knew he didn’t care that I didn’t
like him. This was just another challenge. It was obvious he thrived on them.
“How did you do it?”
“I’m a predator. I follow the footprints and scents. It’s what I
do.”
“Does that mean you followed my digital footprints?” Had that
asshole hacked my computer?
He leaned forward, his face pensive, and for a brief moment, I
thought maybe I was mistaken. Maybe he was being serious about repairing the
rift between us. The people I dealt with daily had made me cynical. Then it
dawned on me. When it came to shifters, it all came down to protecting the
pack. Adding “corp” behind their pack name didn’t change their dedication and
priorities.
“Why did you need it?” The Salem Stone was a magic connector that
allowed the user to siphon magic from others and strengthen the borrower’s
magic. It wasn’t as malicious as it sounded. A person had to willingly
sacrifice their magic by invoking that spell. Contrary to how dramatic and
portentous the STF made it sound, it wasn’t as if a person carrying the stone
could rip magic from people and become an overpowered, unstoppable magic
wielder. It had limitations. It also required magic to use it, something that
shifters didn’t possess.
“How does it affect your pack? What’s going on?” I asked
pointedly.
His casual smile faltered. “What goes on with my pack, stays with
my pack. Are you interested in being part of it?” he asked in a cool challenge.
His brown eyes flickered. Slowly, measuredly, very intentionally, his features
shifted. Skin stretched, the carved lines of his jaw relaxed, allowing the jaw
to elongate. The narrow slope of his nose extended and reshaped, as did a
partial facial shift into his wolf counterpart. It stopped mid-transition, to
give me a look at his canine, and before it could fully register, he shifted
back to human form. I expected a sheen of perspiration, panting, increased
heart rate, rapid breathing, or some sign of distress. Nothing. He’d donned and
doffed his wolf half with the ease of someone changing a shirt.
“If that creepy performance was a true recruitment effort, you
need to work on it.”
His laughter filled the room, and for a fleeting moment, I
wondered if I could actually be changed and how shifter magic would affect my
magic. Was becoming a shifter even an option? Would it take away my desire for
magic since I’d have a different type of magic working through me? I didn’t let
the idea linger too long—especially in front of someone as perceptive as Asher.
“Then you know I can’t tell you anything. I needed it and now I
have it,” he said bluntly. “Now, my goal is to make recompense.” He seemed
earnest, someone a less cynical person would believe. If someone could tell
when someone else was lying, it gave them the necessary tools to be a good
liar, too.
“Are you really sorry?” I asked.
He nodded. “Not for what I did. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat
if I needed to. I’m sorry that you got screwed over.”
Direct but honest. I could work with that.
“Get me the Mystic Souls,” I blurted. “Then we’ll be even. No more
bad blood between us.”
I didn’t have to be a shapeshifter to see the change in his mood.
His tension was palpable, and he sat up and eyed me, his interest kindled.
“Mystic Souls,” he repeated, his voice grim. “You know it is
rumored that only two copies exist in the entire world, right?”
“I only need one.” He wasn’t going to be able to get it, but it
was worth the shot.
His hands washed over his face and then scrubbed along the shadow
of beard that accentuated his jawline. For a while, he seemed to contemplate my
request. I needed the Mystic Souls book and if he could get it, I’d mend our
pseudo friendship.
“If you are asking me for this, you really need it, don’t you?”
The arrogance and playfulness had melted from his face and words. Whatever he
was doing with his eyes, I didn’t like it. The intensity of his gaze was hard
to hold. I nodded. Standing, he straightened the sleeves and nodded.
“Okay, give me two weeks.”
Okay, give me two weeks? What the actual fuck? I’d like a unicorn,
a zero-calorie Snickers, and snow on my birthday in July, too.
Hiding my shock, I just nodded again. Of course, it would only
take a couple of weeks to find one of the rarest books in the world. I
swallowed hard with my hands balled at my sides as I kept my breathing normal,
trying not to show my excitement. In a couple of weeks, my life was going to
change. Or was it? I snuffed the excitement. He would probably come back with
some knockoff consolation prize, one of the spell books I already had or had
access to. I didn’t allow myself to hope too hard.
Stopping at the threshold of the door, he looked over his shoulder
and smiled. “You’ll get your book.”
“Okay.” I loved that I sounded so nonchalant. Whatever, Mr. CEO,
Alpha Man, just drop off the book whenever. It’s no big deal.
Madison believed the book contained a spell that could remove my
curse and give me access to magic, and I wanted to believe it, too. I wanted to
believe it so much.
Buy Links
**GIVEAWAY**
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$25 Amazon Gift
Card
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