We are happy to share with you a sneak peek at our first signed series, Magic at Myers Beach, and book one, Summer Thunder. If you’re looking for a clean, urban fantasy romance with faeries and a problem to solve, this will be right up your alley!



Fairy Dust. No one ever imagined we’d run low. I was strapping on my kitesurfing harness today when my father sent the terrifying message.

His advisers had just alerted him to a potential kingdom-wide contamination of our main supply. It was too soon to know who was behind it, or the extent of the catastrophe, and he tasked me to find new sources of the nine elements that we’ll need to make new dust from scratch.

Like every fairy in our kingdom, I knew how blessed we were that rich veins of those precious elements ran beneath the earth throughout our land. We thought they would last forever, and they should have.

My father and all the fathers before him had demonstrated exemplary stewardship, and while they shared our abundance when the other two fairy kingdoms were in need, never did they squander our treasured resource, which makes the impending scarcity all the more heartbreaking and dire.

He told me again how proud he was of my hard work that earned me the title of Kitesurfing Champion of the World, and the kick he and my mother still get from reading how my fans labeled me “Theos, the King.” Then he added the humorous advice he’d given before: not to let the adulation go to my head. He reminded me that, among other things, I was still only the prince, and he was the king.

And as Crown Prince, finding my consort had been next on my To-do list. Given the gravity of this new situation, my father asked me to begin the search the moment I was finished with the Cavalcade of Champions here in Myers Beach.

In the meantime, it was a perfect day for a competition.


Thanks to a fortunate marine phenomenon that kept the waters of that small section of the California coast spotless and warm year-round, the sand at Myers Beach was exquisite, and the water was ideal for beach sports. Generous warm and gusty summer winds attracted serious kitesurfers and their fans, assuring the success of beach bars and other businesses that lined the boardwalk.

It was not yet peak season for beachgoers, so it was the kitesurfing tournament that drew most of the visitors to Myers Beach that glorious morning. Vans with satellite dishes lined the boardwalk, and food vendors squeezed into any space large enough to hold their pop-up tents. Lily pointed to the banner on the gigantic tent next to the energy drink truck.

Kitesurfing Cavalcade of Champions!

Because of all the hoopla in the news about the top-flight competitors and the excitement that they’d chosen Myers Beach for their big event, the women took a break from managing their shops to see what the fuss was about.

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Lily insisted. “Sales are way down, and––”

“Stop!” said Greta. “You need a break, and these are supposed to be the top kitesurfers in the world. Look over there. You can see some of them warming up.”

She and her best friend Greta had been so focused on the hustle-bustle on the ground, they hadn’t noticed the couple dozen colorful inflatable bow-shaped kites crisscrossing the sky farther down the beach. Lines connected them to nimble athletes below who skimmed over the water on small surfboards and soared into the air to contort their bodies into flips and twists. The spectacle was dazzling wherever they looked.

Though they’d lived in Myers Beach for years, neither she nor Greta had bothered to learn much about the sport, other than that it somehow combined the techniques of surfing, water skiing, paragliding, and skateboarding. They strolled by the tents of the sporting goods companies where salespersons hawked their boards and harnesses and bragged about their “strut designs,” “pigtail positions,” and “suicide rings.” Judging from the price tags, kitesurfing catered to a well-heeled consumer, and they both gulped at packages of equipment that ran into many thousands of dollars.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Greta asked. “This upscale crowd is going to be around all week, and that should be great for business!”

A voice over the sound system announced that the day’s competition was about to begin, and they hustled to the end of the beach to lie back on the sand and gaze up at the death-defying razzle-dazzle from the ones who were still warming up.

They explained to the man and woman next to them that they were newbies to the sport, and the couple told them what to watch for and offered expert commentary as each champion performed their complicated routines. Thunderous applause greeted the last contestant, who waved to the audience as he skimmed across the shoreline. The couple explained that as reigning champion, he was allowed to make the special entrance.

He made a second pass in the opposite direction then unexpectedly pushed his board’s tail around and changed tack a dozen times using a different technique each time. He carved into the wind upward, adjusted the bar, and shifted his feet. The pop propelled him high into the sky, and he seemed to float forever. After he touched the water again, he bent his front leg to send his board upward for a series of back rolls.

Even without her newfound understanding of the basics, Lily could appreciate why he was the champion. Aside from his program, which seemed more complex than the others, when this man jumped, he appeared to fly.

“I like the way he floats in the air,” Lily remarked to their mentors.

“Yeah, his hang time is longer than anyone else’s,” the woman replied. “Sometimes it seems like he can stay up there forever, even when there’s barely any wind. Nobody knows how he does it.”

“Amazing. But some of the others looked like they were faster, am I right?”

“In kitesurfing, speed isn’t as important as agility. But he’s the fastest one on the planet. You’ll see.”

After four and a half minutes of breathtaking aero gymnastics, he segued into his finale, which consisted of a mind-boggling series of complex stunts not attempted by the previous contestants, and it ended with a flawless extreme kite loop. With his long hair flowing straight behind him, he raced atop waves the length of the beach and broke his record for speed.

Lily’s heart was still pumping when the crowd began to disperse. “Did you have any idea this sport was so exciting?” she asked Greta. “And this last guy was so graceful. I wish I could watch him do the whole thing again.

“Then you should check out his online videos,” said the woman.

“I will,” she shouted over the cheering. “By the way, who is he?”

The woman scrunched her face. “Are you kidding? That’s Theos.”

“Interesting name. Well, Theos is really good.”

“Good? He’s the king.”

She gave Lily her program, and on the way to their stores, Lily flipped through the booklet to learn more about the man who had so enchanted her, but beyond his photo on the centerfold and a list of his titles, she could find nothing personal. No short bio. Not even a last name.

Greta grabbed Lily’s hand. “With so many tourists here, we should definitely put on our skit.”

“Great idea! I can be in costume in half an hour.”


“Hang on,” Lily shouted into her phone. “One of my wings is jammed.”

“Can’t you just fake it for now? We don’t want to lose the crowd.”

“Greta, calm down, okay? We’re working on it.” While Lily fiddled with the catch, her assistant, Julie, gave one final tug, and the wing mechanism snapped into place. “There. Fixed it!”

The doors of their side-by-side shops on the Myers Beach Boardwalk flung open, and Lily the Fairy Queen and Greta the Witch emerged in full costume through the swirling thick carpet of theatrical fog, and took their marks. They generally put on the short drama on weekends to drum up business for their two stores, The Fairy Kingdom and The Witch’s Cauldron. That day, though, they made an exception to cash in on the potential of the huge crowds.

Greta’s fog machine never failed to draw a crowd. The fake fog was not novel, but what made the effect so unexpected was finding such eeriness on a bright, sunny spring California afternoon. Equally unlikely was stumbling onto an epic battle between good and evil. The show was always the same, beginning with the fairy and the witch staking out the territory. At one point Lily turned her back, and Greta crept behind her and winked at the audience. She let out a loud cackle and threatened to cast an evil spell, but Lily spun around and waved her luminescent wand in great protective circles to fend off the frightful-looking hag.

“Begone, witch!”

“I’ll show you, my pretty,” sneered Greta, imitating the voice of the Wicked Witch of the West. Thin wisps of greenish-yellow smoke circled up like tendrils from an ornate urn she drew from her cloak and shoved in Lily’s face.

Unafraid of Greta’s taunts, Lily continued to sparkle with goodness. Her perfect creamy complexion reflected glints of silver and gold. Thanks to the last-minute technical support, her motorized pink pointy wings fluttered rapidly in sync with her defensive position. She sneezed and scrunched her nose at the odor but waved away the fumes.

“I said, begone! You have no power over me.”

Greta cackled again, shaking her broomstick at the audience as she limped closer. “Xerbiat Erbidocerim!” she shouted.

Lily’s glass wand suddenly scalded her hand, and when she dropped it on the boardwalk, it broke in half. To improvise her way out of an otherwise tightly choreographed skit, she reached into her pouch and flung a handful of dust into the air.

Sudf!” she shouted, and all eyes of the audience followed the dazzling pinkish cloud as it filtered down and enveloped the witch.

“Ugh! Fairy Dust! Look what you’ve done!” Greta groaned as she picked the glitter off her cloak. “I’ll get you for ruining my day with your prettiness!” She shook a clenched fist at the fairy one final time before she slouched backward through the fog and disappeared into her store.

“Brava!” shouted someone in the audience, and soon others, many still in their bathing suits, joined in the cheers and applause.

Lily turned to the voice and made her signature curtsy. Because she no longer had a wand, she returned the favor by closing her eyes and waving her bare hand to bestow goodness on her enthusiastic well-wishers. When she opened her eyes and saw that all heads were looking at her rival, her face fell.

Greta had reemerged through the fog and was upstaging Lily with ostentatious swishes of her jet-black cloak. She dropped to one knee and bowed her head like a diva to grand applause. After milking the ovation for as long as she could, she rose and transformed back into her wicked witch persona. Squinting with mischievous eyes, she scanned the crowd until she found her target.

She aimed a long finger at a middle-aged woman in the center of the crowd. “Have no fear, my lady,” she screeched. “I have just what you need…inside.”

The self-conscious woman peeked around the friend she’d ducked behind. “Me?” Her voice was shaky.

“Yes, you!” A thick shaft of black smoke belched from the tip of Greta’s pointed hat as she singled out two others. “And you, and you. I have what all of you need.”

Still hiding behind her friend, the first woman managed a nervous giggle. “How do you know what I need?”

Greta’s green eyes shot open, and she let out a blistering series of cackles. “Because I can see things! Come inside my shop and I’ll show you my many mysteries.” With a final swirl of her cloak to add a bit of salesmanship, she pointed to her store’s sign and retreated to her shop, The Witch’s Cauldron.

Lily gaped as she watched nearly everyone in the audience push and shove into the store behind her. Generally, their staged skit drummed up business for both stores, but that morning, Greta not only stole the show—she also stole all the customers.

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