Whisper
of Darkness
Banshee's
Curse, #1
by
Kristen Braddock
Genre:
Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance
Cara
Winters is cursed.
Loss
has haunted her through life. A fun night out with her sister ends in
disaster when she learns she's a banshee. With a chance
encounter and life debt owed, she's coerced into a deadly competition
in the far realm. To survive she finds an unlikely ally in Killian, a
mysterious and prickly dark fae.
The
only way to win and get back to Earth is using her powers, but doing
so may unravel her to the point of no return.
Perfect
for fans of fated mates, enemies to lovers, complicated & diverse
characters, slow burn romance, and celtic folklore. Suggested for
ages 15+ due to some language and violence.
**From
June 7-21, 100% of my profits will go to Foundations of Divergent
Minds (instead of the usual 10%), a nonprofit founded and run by
autistic people for disability justice!**
EXCERPT
“You shouldn’t be here, little rabbit,” he purrs.
His obnoxious nickname for me breaks my trance. ““I am. Not. A rabbit.” With murder in my eyes, I poke him in his hard chest with each word.
His hand envelops mine, stopping my physical assault, but not my verbal one.
“I’m not some defenseless animal that needs taking care of! Stop acting like you need to save me. I never asked for your help. In fact, I explicitly told you not to help me. So, stop it, and stop treating me like I’m some distressed, helpless pet!”
“You do not know the nightmarish creatures that live in this land.”
“Oh, yeah? Like you?” I throw the truth he admitted in the second trial in his face. I expect him to flinch, but instead he yanks my hand.
I tumble forward, using my other hand to brace myself against his muscular chest. My shocked expression meets his stern one.
“Yes, exactly like me,” he sneers. He leans forward to whisper in my ear. “I am a Púca, a fae made of your worst fears.” As he speaks he transforms.
________________
Leather clings to his large, muscular frame. He turns my way. A hood covers a majority of his face with only a frown peeking from the bottom.
I stare wide eyed at him.
The man from the bar pulls his hands from his ears and looks at his blood coated fingers. A trickle of blood dribbles from his ear to his chin.
The man in black faces my assailant. His right hand reaches over his shoulder, and metal rings through the air as he unsheathes a sword.
Who the hell casually carries a sword on their back? Is there a convention in town? I pale at the high pitched wail in my head.
With sudden awareness, my attacker lifts his face to check his surroundings. Upon seeing the new addition to the alley, he jumps, fumbling onto his back before scuttling backwards like a crab.
Frozen in place, my fingers dig into my thighs as the man with the sword takes a swing towards him. I cover my mouth in horror as blood spills from the man’s neck. His body goes limp and there’s a small thud as his back hits the tarmac.
___________________________
“I need you to look at me because I need you to hear what I have to say,”
I raise my head to see his beautiful face illuminated by the fire, only a foot away.
His eyes search mine as he speaks. “I know darkness. I am darkness. I turn into someone’s worst nightmare. But you… you’re goodness. You’re someone who understands the dark, who has walked in it, but it allows you to bring light into the world. You’re someone who stands up for the weak and those who are hurt. You find strength where others would crumble.”
“But… my powers,” I sniffle.
He leans closer to me until our breath mingles. “Your powers may be about death, but you can use them to prevent heartache before it begins. To forewarn before the end has occurred. Nothing is set in stone until it has already passed.”
______________________
Killian takes three long strides and drops to one knee in front of me.
In the distance, the battle still rages, but the sounds barely reach me.
He grips my face in his hands and pulls it up until I look at him. His amber eyes search mine. His features are hard and the scowl doesn’t leave when he speaks. “Why aren’t you fighting?”
My tongue is as useful as a lead weight in my mouth. Why was he asking me this? Why did he care? The only person in any world that cares about me is back on Earth and probably thinks I’m dead. It would be so much easier if it were true.
His eyes bore into mine, looking into my soul. It’s like he can see every thought and feeling while words fail me.
There’s a ripple in my chest, but it dissipates when Killian jumps up and leaps over my head. Metal clings together at my back, but I simply sit there while the world unfocuses around me.
Another opponent runs at me, using Killian’s distraction to take their opportunity to end me.
I imagine Shay screaming at me from the stands. I’m sure if I listen closely enough I would hear his curses for me to fight, to win. My small sword sits beside me. I don’t remember when I dropped it. All I need to do is pick it up and block. A technique he ingrained into me, something we practiced hundreds of times. I stare at it, willing my hands to move and grab it, but the need evaporates.
It’s better this way. If Cadan can’t get his wish, I don’t deserve to win either. In the end, my curse will always be what wins, and it’s about time it takes me.
A thud sounds from behind me, and within seconds Killian is upon the fae in front. In his act of desperation, he isn’t as careful this time. When he runs across their front, he slices their neck so fast the person doesn’t have time to respond. Blood gurgles from the wound as the body crumples to the ground.
Another death, but the ringing in my head hasn’t stopped.
At least it was a quick death.
“Get up,” Killians demands from above me.
My blank stare grazes his silhouette.
“Get. Up.” He grabs me from under my arm and hauls me to my feet.
I trip into him.
He catches me around the waist.
A male fae with pointed ears, battle leathers, and a long sword heads straight for us, but with Killian’s back turned he doesn’t see him.
No. I can’t lose anyone else. I may not care what happens to me, but I can’t stomach anything happening to Killian. I shove him to the side, sticking my foot behind his ankle so he falls to the ground so he can’t intervene.
Characters
and their worlds have inundated Kristen's mind since she was
a kid. Traveling to far off places and having words on a piece of
paper transform into entire scenes pulling at her emotions is an
obsession.
Her
goal as a fantasy author isn't solely to relish in her imagination,
but to bring representation to this genre. She wants stories
with characters who are diverse inside and out.
Their differences are not the focal point of the story, but
rather a natural part of their being. Due to this, you will
often not only find characters of varying ethnicities, but of the
LGBTQ+ community, who battle diseases, are neuroatypical, and plenty
of other areas that make us all so different from each other. These
are not their defining qualities. It's simply a part of who they
are. To further support these communities, Kristen donates 10%
of her profits to various organizations.
When
Kristen isn't cooped up on her computer or curled up with a
book, she is often outdoors-- hiking, snorkeling, diving,
camping, etc.
Currently,
she resides in California with her husband and fur babies
(two dogs and a cat).
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