Get Bent!

Book 1: The Hybrid of High Moon

by Rick Gualtieri

Genres: Humorous Fantasy; Urban Fantasy; Occult & Supernatural; Contemporary Fantasy; Witches; Shifters; strong heroine; magic; paranormal fantasy; supernatural fantasy; witches; werewolves

Synopsis

My name is Tamara Bentley, Bent to my friends, and I'm not supposed to exist. I was born of the forbidden union between a witch and a werewolf, and they've been trying their damnedest to hide my existence ever since.

But now my secret is out, and my uncle, the leader of the wolf pack, is pissed beyond belief. In his eyes, I'm something that should've never been born. He wants me dead and doesn't care who he has to sacrifice to get the job done.

I'm far from helpless, though. Not only am I a champion athlete, but I'm strong enough to punch out a bus. Good thing, too, because a rare lunar event is about to increase my uncle's already terrifying power. I'll have to call on every last ounce of strength I have if I want to survive the night and save the lives of everyone counting on me.

Release date: June 15, 2018

Publisher: Freewill Press

Print pages: 358

Sample

PROLOGUE - BEFORE 

All things are possible beneath a blood moon.

 

Lissa MacGillis, the future Queen of the Monarchs, considered this as she stepped into the sacred glade. Her magic was the equal or better of any in her coven, and tonight, she intended to prove it.

 

While the others celebrated the rare lunar event with a barbecue, of all things, she’d slipped away. The walls between worlds were thinner on a night such as this. If she could make contact with an outsider, she could conceivably conscript it to her service, increasing her already formidable power. Elder spirits could be notoriously short-tempered, but it was worth the risk, partially thanks to increasing tensions between her people and the lycanthropes.

 

Those mongrels had been growing bolder in recent months. She’d heard it was all due to a young male vying for the position of alpha. He was seemingly intent on testing the limits of her people’s patience – seeing how far he could stretch his leash before someone rapped him on the nose.

 

In a sense, it was ironic that, in scrying to find a suitable location for her ritual, she’d discovered this clearing deep in the lycanthropes’ territory. It was a place of power, not unlike Stonehenge in centuries past. Unlike that old ruin, however, the energy here was fresh, untapped.

 

Tying her auburn hair into a tight bun, the young witch unpacked her supplies, then carved a circle into the dirt with a garden trowel. She filled the shallow trough with melted wax from a blessed candle, lit three more, and placed them all to match the four corners of the compass.

 

Perfect. Let’s do this.

 

Lissa tentatively sat down inside the circle, immediately sensing a hum of power through her lithe frame as she opened the weathered tome she’d borrowed from her mother’s personal library.

 

She cut both her palms with a ceremonial dagger, allowing the blood to slowly dribble out between her fingers and onto the ground – a tempting sacrifice for any spirit.

 

Almost as if in response, the plants, the ground – the very glade itself – began to glow a dull bluish green. It would seem something from outside had already noticed her presence.

 

Lissa smiled, noting the welcome side effect of now having more than enough light to read the incantation she’d opened up to.

 

The future queen chanted in an ancient tongue, and the glow of energy began to pulse in tune to her voice. She could sense the barriers between worlds beginning to peel away like an onion. It was starting to work.

 

Lissa raised her bleeding palms to the sky and the glade flashed a brilliant crimson, matching that of the moon high in the sky above.

 

Soon, very soon, the spirits of this place would answer her and then she would...

 

“You know, you might want to put something on those cuts.”

 

The witch spun toward the gravelly voice but saw nothing except the brush at the edge of the clearing. “Who’s there?”

 

“All I’m saying is that isn’t very sanitary. You could get an infection, contract a flesh-eating virus, get your head bitten off. Stuff like that.”

 

A pair of yellow eyes appeared between a gap in the trees. Lissa sensed a powerful body beneath them, barely hidden by the shadows. One of them had found her. “Come out now and I might let you live.”

 

The eyes blinked once then changed, becoming smaller, more human. A young man in his twenties stepped out from the tree line. He was shirtless and shoeless, wearing nothing but a pair of ripped jeans beneath the washboard abs of his stomach. One side of his mouth was raised in a half-grin. “Such generosity humbles me, especially coming from the mouth of a silly little girl trespassing where she clearly does not belong.”

 

He wasn’t half-bad looking, for a filthy beast anyway, but the witch quickly pushed that thought away. After all, one did not consort with pets. One either assumed dominance over them or had them put down. It was up to him which of those two it would be. “This is a place of power. My people are attuned to them, as you well know.”

 

“A pathetic excuse, nothing more.” He crossed his muscular arms. “As you well know, these woods have already been claimed.”

 

“Perhaps I know no such thing.”

 

“Then you’re either playing dumb or really stupid, but I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume the former.”

 

“And why is that?” The witch forced her voice to remain calm, but she began gathering her energy, sensing how this was likely to play out.

 

“I’ve seen stupid. Lord knows I have plenty of family who fall into that bucket. Believe me, I know the look. You don’t have it.”

 

“Too bad I can’t say the same.”

 

He put a hand over his chest and gave her a pained grimace. “Oh, you wound me so with your words, princess.” At her surprised look, he smiled. “Yes, I know who you are. I’ve heard all about you. The Princess of Peaches or something dopey like that, isn’t it?”

 

“Monarchs,” she snapped.

 

“Oh yeah, that other is from a video game. I always get the two confused.”

 

“Maybe I should educate you as to the difference.” A wave of energy surged through the young witch, unraveling her hair and letting it fall loose where it began to glow as if aflame. She held up a hand, and a ball of fire appeared above it.

 

If the shirtless man was alarmed, he gave no indication. “And here I was hoping it would be a mushroom.”

 

“Pretend it is,” she replied. “Just like you’re pretending to lead your people to a new future when all you’re marching them toward is their destruction.”

 

“I see my reputation precedes me.” The man bowed before her, the impish grin never leaving his face.

 

It infuriated the witch, partly because she could imagine all the girls who’d probably fallen for his charm. Weak-minded fools. Not her, though. “It’s a reputation that could easily get you killed.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t have any plans for tomorrow.” He looked up longingly at the full moon, bathed as he was in the glow still emanating from the glade. “Tonight, however, I’m all booked up.”

 

“Oh? Am I keeping you from humping someone’s leg?”

 

“Close. I have to teach a spoiled little brat a lesson she’ll never forget, assuming I actually let her walk away.”

 

“I’ll do more than walk, wolf.” The ball of flame above Lissa’s fingers grew in intensity, changing color from orange to blue. “Maybe I’ll find a nice spot in my bedroom for your pelt. I could use a new throw rug.”

 

“First humping and now your bedroom?” he replied with a wink. “Who would have thought the princess of buttercups would be such a flirt?”

 

She gritted her teeth. “Monarchs.”

 

“As you wish.” He smiled at her and his teeth became noticeably longer. “Pity for you I’m more Dread Pirate Roberts than Westley.”

 

“Who?”

 

A look akin to horror appeared on his face. “You’re kidding, right?”

 

“About what?” she asked.

 

“You mean you’ve never seen...?” He trailed off, glanced at the moon again, then turned back toward her. “What? Were you raised in a closet under the stairs? No. On second thought, don’t answer that.”

 

“Are you finished?”

 

“Sorry, but that’s a serious mind-blower to me. I mean, I was just going to kill you, but now I’m wondering if I should take you to a movie first so you don’t die culturally bereft. Seems the least I can do.”

 

The witch made a derisive sound. “Nice try, but the only date you’re getting is with your destiny.”

 

“Ooh, more clever than I gave you credit for, princess.” He blinked and his eyes turned yellow. “Still, I think you’re right. An evening like this is made for destiny. What do you say? Shall we see whose ends here tonight?”

 

For a moment, the two stared at each other, neither moving a muscle in the reddish glow of the enchanted glade.

 

“So be it.” The witch unleashed the stored energy of her spell in his direction, but in her haste, she telegraphed the attack.

 

At the last second, her would-be target dodged out of the way, his muscles already rippling with the change, growing larger with each step.

 

He leapt at her, claws at the ready, but in the blink of an eye she brought up a defensive shield to ward off his strike. The werewolf hit it, bounced off, then skidded to a halt facing her.

 

The first blows struck and rebuffed, the future queen and alpha circled each other in the center of the clearing, power from the interrupted ritual surging around them.

 

With magic crackling off her fingertips and a snarl on his lips, they came at each other again – both intent on finishing their respective foe there and then.

 

What they didn’t realize was that they were only partially correct. Destiny was about to change, but it wouldn’t be for just one of them. It would be for both, and in a way neither would have ever guessed.

 

All things were possible beneath a blood moon, and that was especially true when it came to the extraordinary.