A Tale of Mirth & Magic

by Kristen Vale

Genres: Humorous Fantasy; Fantasy Romance

Synopsis

A maker of magical jewelry finds her life turned upside down when she ends up on the run with a half-giant in this spicy and cozy fantasy romance—perfect for fans of Legends & Lattes and The Spellshop.
Elikki may not have a family, but she has her fierce independence, boundless charm, and enough talent as a jewelry artisan to make a living on the road. Unfortunately for some, she also can’t yet manage to control her chaotic magic. . . and her temper. Sweet, soft Barra lives a quiet life with his mas and three sisters, managing the books for his family’s business. All he wants is to blend in and not make waves—a bit tricky, as a nearly eight-foot-tall purple half-giant. 
 
When Elikki lands in hot water after dealing with a particularly rude customer, Barra finds himself helping her flee the constables. With a bounty on her back—and a severe crush forming on his end—they decide to travel together to the next town. So begins a journey filled with cozy inns, delicious meals, heaps of excellent sex, and a sprinkling of danger.  As their adventures bring them closer together and the threat of capture rises they find themselves changing in surprising ways. He’s given up on finding love. She’s always refused to try. But traveling together, they may discover unexpected, powerful romance and stronger self-identities—if the bounty hunters don’t get them first. 

Release date: August 5, 2025

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 352

Sample

There. It’s almost perfect.” With a satisfied smile, I placed the final pair of earrings on the deep purple velvet of my booth’s tabletop.

I surveyed my work—shining pieces of jewelry spread out in front of me in an alluring mix of metals, stones, gems, and crystals. The brass hairpins looked particularly pretty today, glinting in the bright daylight. Not to be outdone, the quartz and silver necklace shone brighter, stealing my glance with a cheeky sparkle. “Show-off,” I muttered fondly.

After a couple more minor adjustments—straightening a bangle here, shifting a pendant there—I let out a contented sigh and looked up from my display for the first time in a half hour. The market wasn’t in full swing yet. I had arrived early for once. Early enough to snag a prime spot by the town square’s central fountain, thank the goddesses. I desperately needed to make a few solid sales today.

With sunshine starting to poke out from behind the morning’s fluffy clouds and not a hint of rain in sight, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day. The town of Povon, compact and tucked into the western edge of Willowisp Woods, was distinctly average in most ways. But every day I’d spent here this week, I noticed more and more pops of unexpected beauty. A bright mural of a lake in an otherwise drab alley. Clusters of planted daffodils scattered throughout the town, poking up cheerily into the early spring air. Intricate engraving around the whole of the square’s fountain, clearly the work of many days.

A handful of people walked about the square now. Some picked up freshly baked loaves for their breakfast from the yawning bread maker. Some headed straight to the fountain to wash clothes, pleasant chatter filling the morning air. And some—the ones I had my eye on—wandered aimlessly around, browsing the vendors’ morning wares. Those were the ones I wanted to draw over to my booth.

“Okay, girl. You’ve got this,” I told myself after taking a quick breath in and out. I adjusted my red embroidered corset over my thick curves. A glance in a hand mirror at my auburn hair and rosy cheeks, a second coat of pink lipstain, and a minor straightening of my booth’s wooden sign—now I was ready:. JEWELRY BY ELIKKI was open for business.

Smiling politely at each townsperson who came within a fifteen-foot radius of my booth, I threw out compliments like my life depended on it.

“Look at you, shining like a new gold coin today! Love your energy!”

“A goddess walks among us! Your hair is stunning, wow.”

“Uh-oh, are you a thief? Because you’re stealing my breath away with that smile!”

I got laughs, grins, and more than a few pleased blushes for my efforts. People started to wander over and peruse my pieces. I sank into the rhythm of my favorite activities—making strangers happy and matching the right piece of jewelry to the right person.

First I sold an intricate gold cuff earring to a cute dwarf, discounting it heavily for the joy of her shameless reciprocal flirting. And I thought I was good at pickup lines! She outcharmed the charmer, and I adored it. With a wink and a “Maybe I’ll see you at the tavern later?” she strode off with a confident smirk, leaving me chuckling after her.

A set of musical copper bangles went to a shy young human next, his face lighting up at the sound they made as he jangled his wrist. The smile faded when I told him the price, making my heart squeeze. So I told him it’s his lucky day—today was my monthly and definitely very real Half-price for Humans Deal! Delighted with his find, he thanked me repeatedly and headed out in a happy daze.

The morning passed in a busy blur. Townspeople filled the square until it was a lively, bustling crowd. Folks browsed booths like mine, travelers selling specialty pieces or practical homewares, while others gathered provisions for the week ahead. Friends and couples strolled around companionably. A few well-dressed, harried servants were shopping for their well-to-do employers. A group of children played next to the fountain, where their parents could easily keep an eye on them.

It was loud and sometimes raucous—arguments breaking out here and there over high prices or unpaid accounts—but lovely all the same, and I soaked up the feeling of a new place, a new town. The baker sold all his loaves by midmorning and packed up, but no matter—there were more vendors peddling delicious wares. Carts and booths sold steaming hand pies, fruit-studded scones, and some kind of messy, mouthwatering local fried dough treat on a stick, swiped with a thick glob of dark jam.

I had just started to consider taking a break for my midday meal when another customer ambled up. A short human, he had greasy hair and a sneer that looked permanently fixed on his face.

“So how much for this?” he grunted, grabbing one of my pewter cuff bracelets. They were a costly new design I was particularly proud of. I’d inlaid the thick metal of each with large flat agate stones and carved runes of protection on the underside. They took painstaking work to finish. I’d made only three so far, each one taking days to create, and had sold… zero.

“Five gold for that,” I replied with a sunny smile. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an extremely tall, broad person dressed in drab brown clothing, complete with a thick hood that hid their face. For a moment I thought they were watching me. But they were just carefully inspecting the hilt of a broadsword, nodding occasionally at the smithy’s sales pitch.

“Five?!” My customer’s loud scoff drew my attention back. “This isn’t worth five. I’ll give you one gold.”

He slipped the cuff on his hairy wrist, and I checked my urge to lunge across the table and snatch it back. It was not only an expensive piece, but it was also my favorite of the cuffs—a lovely cerulean agate that reminded me of the sea. I’d just finished it yesterday.

I took a calming breath.

Injecting a drop of venom into my normally sugar-sweet voice, I said, “The price is five. Five gold coins. With the high materials and labor cost that it takes to produce this kind of metalwork, I cannot accept less than that. The delicacy of the stone and the complex detailing of the runes takes—”

Clink. Clink.

“All right, enough.” He placed two gold coins on the velvet in front of me. “I’ve been watching you barter all day. How about I give you two, and you give me some of that cutesy shit you’ve been doling out to everyone else?”

I stared at him, momentarily stunned.

“I’ve seen you flirting, pushing up your tits, giving out discounts and smiles to everybody who bothers to throw some coin for the scrap metal you’ve got here.” He leered at me with a grin, eyes moving down to my chest. “Where’s my discount, huh?”

Suddenly a shadow fell over my booth.

“I think you should leave,” said a deep bell of a voice.

The hooded person loomed over us, focused intensely on the rude man. They shifted from side to side a bit, as if uncomfortable with speaking out loud. If they were trying to be intimidating, they weren’t doing a great job at it. The man barely glanced at him.

“Mind your own business, pal.”

Still ogling me, he picked up his two coins and grabbed my arm with his other hand, another oily smile plastered on his face.

Everything slowed down. As if from a distance, I heard the tall person shout brusquely and start reaching out as if to tear the customer’s hand off me. Half frozen, I felt a trickle of fire sparking in my chest, tendrils burning their way to my brain, down my legs, through my arms.

Fury. Burning fury shot through my veins.

With a half step, I yanked out of the rude man’s grasp. Inhaling a sharp breath through my nose, I swept my right palm in an arc that came to a halt by my wide hips. My gesture had raised every piece of jewelry on the velvet tabletop two feet into the air. They hovered there, at the man’s eye level. He paused, stock-still. Glancing around him at the metal, he hissed, “Calm down, elf.”

I raised my palm and squeezed it into a fist. My jewelry snapped to attention, soldiers to their general’s call, moving a few inches closer to the man and sparkling with malicious intent. The hairsticks looked particularly menacing, sharp points directed right at his sweating face. He backed away with a slow step. I smiled.

“Time for you to go.” I flicked the fingers of my other hand, sending his two gold coins back at him. He grabbed at them, missing, and they fell to the cobblestones.

Clink. Clink.

Then I twisted my wrist slightly, the motion tightening my pewter cuff that still encircled his wrist. Obeying the pounding drum of my fury, I twisted more… more. I could feel my power so acutely in the man’s panicked face, his fragile limb in my invisible grip. When I heard a small crack of splintering bone, I released my magic’s hold.

I gestured toward myself, and the cuff flew happily into my hand. “Good work!” I told it, and it warmed at my touch. I swept my right hand in a reverse arc, and all the jewelry drifted softly back onto their velvet.

The man had paled to a parchment white, gasping at the pain. He scrabbled at the ground for his coins. Staring around at the passersby, he shouted in disbelief, “Did you see what she did?! Did you see that nasty elf attack me?” Some watched him in disgust—they had seen the whole interaction. Some began to look at me with suspicion. Most passed by with indifference.

I smiled sweetly at all of them. The crowd moved on. The man gave me one last look of hatred and fear, then staggered off out of the busy square. Once I knew he was gone, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

I began packing up my wares quickly, fingers shaking a bit. I tucked the three cuffs away first. Then the hairsticks, taking comfort in their solidity and sharpness. Then the earrings, the pendants, chains, bracelets, necklaces, and rings. Mind racing, I rolled up the velvet cloth and secured my coin purse in my skirts. Someone cleared their throat nearby. I looked up.

It was the tall one again. I hadn’t even noticed them still standing there. They were like a big brown boulder, quiet and forgettable. Even with my height of nearly six feet, they still towered over me and everyone else in the square. They were at least seven feet tall, likely more. A half-giant, perhaps? Sparks of my anger still lingered, and I glowered at them. What had they been trying to do? Rescue me from that doofus? Play the big strong protector? Thanks, but no thanks.

Now that they stood in front of me, only part of their face hid in the shadow of the thick hood they wore. I peeked up curiously.

Warm brown eyes gazed back, a deep smoky quartz. Soft lips, now wearing a slight frown, were a muted violet a few shades darker than the lavender skin. Yes, a half-giant man, from the looks of it. My mind blanked for a few moments.

As I came back to, he cleared his throat uncomfortably again and looked away. I shook myself and tried to rouse the annoyance I felt a minute ago. It didn’t come, but I snapped anyway, “You didn’t have to step in, you know. I was handling myself fine.”

He considered me quietly for a moment. “You’re right. I should have asked if you needed assistance first. I apologize.”

“Well… good,” I replied.

“Good,” he repeated.

We stood there awkwardly, seconds passing. He looked at me with a steady gaze, as if he wanted to say something else. My skin prickled with sudden warmth as we watched each other. I felt aware of my breath, the tight stays of my corset, my palms still tingling with magic. Our eyes were caught. The noises of the marketplace faded, and I felt like one of my jewelry pieces just minutes ago—frozen in the air, poised to fly.

As I opened my mouth to introduce myself, he blinked rapidly and strode away.

After a second of shock—and perhaps a small twinge of disappointment—I shook myself into action again. I gathered my things, did a last visual sweep of the booth, then headed in the opposite direction with a huff, in search of a well-deserved meal.

First, though, I needed to stop by the Artisans Guild to restock my metalsmithing supplies. It was basically on the way to the tavern where I was staying anyway. To appease my rumbling stomach, I grabbed one of those dough sticks that had been tantalizing me—appropriately called sticklers, according to the street vendor. Then I set my boots toward the guild, tallying up a mental list while I wove around people through the busy square, trying and failing to eat the deliciously sweet fried confection before the jam ran down to my fingers.

Silver, definitely. I barely had enough left to make a thin ring or two. A new file, since the handle on mine had broken clean off and was rusting to boot. More spare chains, particularly the long dainty ones that were in style and too tedious to make myself. I’d much rather have more time and creative energy to spend on my pendants that hung on the chains.

Twisting to avoid passersby, I turned left down a quieter side street that led to the guild, wiping the last of the sticky jam off my fingers with a handkerchief. Spotting a couple of the town’s many stray cats lazing on a stoop, I placed the stick between them so they could enjoy the remaining tidbits of dough. After a few quick pets, I moved along. The sun was still shining, and the townspeople of Povon strolling through the streets seemed in high spirits.

Most of them anyway, I thought, the rude man’s angry face flashing in my mind. Hopefully he’d learned his lesson, and I wouldn’t have to see him again. But it might be time to move on soon.

As I reached the wide, welcoming entrance of the Artisans Guild, my thoughts strayed from that dickhead to the mysterious lavender-skinned half-giant who’d tried to intervene. I wished he hadn’t rushed off so soon. I passed underneath the open stone archway and walked through the small courtyard, its floor inlaid with rustic mosaic tiling, and headed toward the main hall where the vendors would be setting up for market day. Inside, it was nearly as bustling as the square. This wasn’t a large town, so its guild buildings were modest. The Artisans Guild of which I was a longtime member, occupied this cozy spot consisting of a central main hall where artists displayed and sold their works, a few tiny side rooms used for meetings, a long shared underground room filled with cots for starving artist types, and a small outdoor forge tucked in the back. I was welcome to sell my wares here in the hall—and had a couple times so far, making some new friends with fellow artisans—but I’d opted for the square today to take advantage of the general town market. It was wonderful to see, however, this turnout in the guildhall. Povon seemed to have a deep appreciation for art and culture, I’d already gathered from my short time here—rare for such a small town, but always gratifying to discover.

I spotted Shree, a friendly middle-aged human vendor I’d met a few days earlier, and beelined to her table in a corner of the hall. Her warm brown face cracked in a smile as I approached.

“Morning, dear!” she chirped.

“Good morning, ma’am! I’m on the hunt for a new eight-inch hand file,” I said, returning her grin before scanning the wares laid out across her space. “And I know you’re the best woman to come to for tools around these parts. Got some I could look at?”

She chuckled, pulling over a wooden box. “You flatterer. Yes, dear, I’ve got some. Coarse or fine?”

“Fairly fine. A half-round if you have it,” I said as she laid out a few. “Oh, these are perfect!”

We talked through options, gossiping about guild drama all the while. After a time, I settled on a file, and we pleasantly haggled a bit just for the sake of it.

The steady buzz of voices in the hall suddenly dipped, and I looked round to see what had drawn people’s attention.

Him. It was the half-giant from the square, so tall he had to duck slightly under the doorway. What was he doing here?

The noise filling the hall went mostly back to normal, the nosy but mostly kind people of Povon not outright staring at the massive man towering above the crowd. He slowly made his way through the room, waiting for folks to move or carefully shifting around them rather than pushing through like I’d seen many big men do.

As he grew closer to Shree’s table, stopping at a couple of other vendors to check out their wares, I passed her my payment and quickly ducked into the neighboring stall of a tapestry artisan before he could spot me. My heart thudded uncomfortably in my chest. Safely hidden behind a huge woven image of a squidspider—who would want this hanging in their home?!—I peeked around to see what he was doing. The elderly artisan slouched in an armchair behind me seemed to be in the middle of a very deep, snore-filled nap. They wouldn’t mind me using their booth as a temporary hideout.

I didn’t even know why I felt the need to hide. Maybe I wanted a chance to observe him, after the way he’d ruffled me in the square and then had the nerve to just walk away.

He looked distinctly uncomfortable, big shoulders hunched up to his ears as he muttered gruff apologies to passersby. When he came to Shree’s table, his eyes lit up. Lifting a pair of long iron blacksmith tongs that looked, frankly, like a set of children’s training chopsticks in his large hand, he cleared his throat and asked, “Excuse me, how much for these?”

Shree looked him over from head to toe, an appreciative glint in her eye. “For you, sugar, one silver and four coppers.”

The man reached into the coin purse at his belt, not even trying to haggle. I snorted at his naivete, and he turned. In a flash, I ducked back behind the tapestry and held my breath, vision going wonky. A beat passed, and then another.

Shree, seeming to interpret his silence as a customer’s hesitation, chirped, “But I could go down to one silver and a small favor.”

“A favor?” he replied.

“Mm-hmm. Our guild here has been trying to reach that wee kitten up on the rafter all morning.” She pointed to a high beam near the ceiling behind her, from where I now noticed the occasional plaintive meows through the din of the guildhall. Some wooden boxes were piled up on the ground below.

“Poor thing got stuck up there sometime in the night, and none of us can reach it. Always getting themselves into trouble, these stray cats,” she said, shaking her head affectionately. “We were waiting for Farmer Ling to bring her ladder later today, but since you’re here…”

Shree raised her eyebrows, tilting her head back toward the trapped kitten. After a few moments, in which the half-giant seemed frozen in place, he finally placed the tongs back on the table and moved wordlessly around it. Stepping close to the back wall, he reached one long arm up. From my perch behind the wall of tapestries, I could distantly hear him murmuring, “Come on now, you. Time to get down, love… We’ll get you a nice chicken dinner, how about that, hmm?”

After some truly pitiful yowls and more gentle coaxing, the man finally scooped up a small gray ball of fur and held it to his broad chest. After doing a quick inspection, he passed it over into Shree’s hands. A few of my fellow guild members nearby clapped at the rescue. I got a glimpse of his lavender cheeks tingeing mauve as he ducked his head.

Well. That was fucking adorable. Be still, my clit.

“Seems all right,” he said quietly, eyeing the kitten. “Probably just needs water and some food.” He reached into his coin purse, then placed some money on the table and picked up the tongs. Nodding a polite farewell to Shree, he turned to go, posture rigid.

“You forgot your discount, lad!” she trilled, pushing a few coppers back across the table to him with a smile.

He shook his head. “Keep it, ma’am. Just give that fluffball a good meal, all right? And try to keep it from climbing if you can.” Cheeks still flushed, he hunched farther into his brown coat when a couple people tried to talk to him, seemingly trying to disappear despite looming a good two feet above folks. He moved toward the exit as quickly as he could without bumping into anyone.

I stood there awhile longer, eyes closed and back pressed against the squidspider tapestry’s bulk as I replayed the image of that man cradling a tiny kitten in his palms. So gently.

The stall owner’s snores ratcheted up to a choking crescendo, startling themself awake and jolting me out of my reverie. We blinked at each other. Then I flashed them my most stunning smile, saluted, and pushed aside a heavy tapestry to reenter the fray of the guildhall. Stopping at other vendors to collect the rest of my supplies, I forced myself to put the lavender dreamboat out of my mind by focusing on charming my way into the best deals. It mostly worked. Sort of.

With my purchases safely tucked away, I hefted my rucksack and slipped back out onto the city streets, rumbling stomach leadin. . .