Beth Alvarez's Blog

Last week, I completed fulfillment for my first-ever Kickstarter campaign, which had the goal of making a pretty hardcover edition of my fantasy romance novel The Assassin’s Bride. Now that it’s done, I can finally sit down and share a look at everything I made.

The list of digital swag was much longer – there was a new novella, three bonus scenes, printable stickers, coloring pages, all sorts of stuff! But the physical swag that went with the book was pretty nice, too. And of course, the book itself turned out gorgeous.

The hardcover edition got a new cover, and a slightly different, simpler design underneath the dust jacket. Not only that, but the upgraded edition got improvements. I added luxe satin ribbon bookmarks to the binding by hand, and also hand-airbrushed solid-color sprayed edges that went with the oranges in the cover and really pop on the shelf.

Not everyone would enjoy the process of doing their own sprayed edges, but I had so much fun with it… and the extra swag was pretty fun, too.

From the beginning of the campaign, each book came with a double-sided bookmark that was drawn by me and colored by my sister, Lissie.

The print quality on these turned out fantastic, and I love the double-sided image!

Another extra made available from the beginning was a sticker of chibi versions of Gil and Thea, which was something I also drew and colored on my own.

I had them produced in weatherproof vinyl, so they can go on just about anything. I love how these turned out, and an alternate, magic-less version of the chibis where Gil is just himself and not half disguised was part of the digital swag pack.

Then we unlocked two bookish sticker designs, which I also drew and colored. One book and one leaf, both also made in weatherproof vinyl. Since the campaign happened in the fall and so does the book, it seemed like a perfect choice.

One of the first extras made was a color version of the map as a postcard… which doubles as an art print. It’s a bit smaller than the map in the book, but coloring the map was really fun, and it’s also a functional postcard with a stamp spot on the back and everything!

Then we have the vellum overlay, which I posted about recently, since getting that made was an entire ordeal… Out of everything done for this campaign, this is the one that gives me second thoughts the most. I am super hesitant to do it again. I love how it looks inside the book, though, so I guess it’s sort of worth it.

The last stretch goal was one we actually didn’t hit, but I was so sure we’d reach it that I’d already done a lot of the work to make it happen… so I added them to the digital swag pack, and then at the last minute, a printer came through for me and was able to produce the character portraits as trading cards. Hurrah!

They feature the character’s portrait and name on one side, and the series name and a callback to the book cover design on the other. Thea and Gil both got their own cards.

And while that’s all I made as far as physical goods for the campaign, that was enough to make it a huge ordeal, especially since I was hands-on with the art production. Lissie coloring the vellum overlay and the bookmark for me was a huge help, but the rest was all me, as was the formatting and production management, and in some cases, just… the production in general. But I as a reader love bookish swag, and I’m hoping to make even more exciting things in the future.

I’ll be running a campaign for the second book at the end of January, so I can ensure the hardcover editions match. I know that’s a big deal for readers, so I want to do right by them.

I don’t know how much swag we’ll get done for that one, but we’re working on bookmarks and stickers already… so you can at least count on those!

The post The book swag I made for The Assassin’s Bride appeared first on The World of Ithilear - Home of author Beth Alvarez.

Well, sort of. The ebook edition released today, so if you had it preordered, you can go ahead and start reading!

If you didn’t preorder, you can grab the book now or read it with Kindle Unlimited.

And if you’re waiting for a print edition… The paperback will be ready before Christmas, but printing delays always hit this time of year, so getting a proof copy is taking longer than I hoped. The hardcover… well, we’ll see. The printing delays for hardcovers has proven to be a problem for the hardcover edition of The Assassin’s Bride, as well.

The interior formatting took a little longer to get done the way I wanted, too, since I wanted the book to be similar in design to The Witch and the Wyrm. These two books are officially part of a series now, set in the same world and following the same rules, but taking place in different regions.

I shared the book’s description last time I spoke about it, so this time, we’ll discuss a few other things about the book!

The Cinders and the Crown is a fairy tale retelling, but instead of being a single fairy tale, it’s a Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty mash-up.

Some of the Cinderella elements were my favorites from the old fairy tale. In particular, the ball lasting 3 nights, with each dress being more splendid than the last, was a fun thing to include. But I’m a sucker for masquerades, so you know that had to be included, too.

Prince Corin is sort of different from the heroes I usually write: Elise is the brave one, while Corin is very reserved and a bit timid… although for good reasons.

Corin’s mask is dyed specifically to match his hair. It seems like it would sell the illusion better, don’t you think?

I wanted to do some art for this book, but all I had time for was a pair of chibis. Now that I have them on my desktop, the colors are pretty washed out on this monitor, so they’ll probably need some tweaking. I’d love to make them into stickers at some point, but fortunately I still have the file with separate layers in Procreate. I don’t always have them, since I use an iPad Air – it doesn’t have a ton of memory, so I can only have 17 layers at a time. Fun fact: My book cover designs (including the one for The Cinders and the Crown!) usually have at least 50 layers. So, working with very few is an interesting challenge.

I had hoped to complete a map for the book, but as I said above, I didn’t have time. It’ll end up being a printable instead, whenever it’s finished. It might be a long way off!

I’ll be sure to update you whenever the print editions are available. Since I don’t know when that will be, I’m not taking preorders at this time, but I will stock signed copies in my shop once they’re ready.

Until then, happy reading!

The post The Cinders and the Crown is out now! appeared first on The World of Ithilear - Home of author Beth Alvarez.

If you’ve been following along with the Kickstarter updates, you’ve already seen this, but I recently got the first proof copy for the hardcover version of The Assassin’s Bride.

This was the project launched by the campaign, with a goal of having the book available through retailers toward the end of spring in 2026. But campaign backers will be getting their books in the next 2-3 months, so they’ll be arriving soon. It’s amazing to finally have the hardcover edition in my hands!

This is the 16th time I’ve formatted a book for print with Ingram, and it’s also the first time the colors have turned out nothing like what I submitted. Printed covers always turn out darker than the files you submit, and for years, my go-to solution has been boosting the midtone levels by .15. Even for purple, what is notoriously the hardest color to print accurately, the covers have always turned out well. I ran dozens of test prints at home and then adjusted accordingly, knowing that Ingram prints even darker than that. So unlike other covers I’ve done, this one was actually adjusted layer-by-layer instead of overall, and despite ramping up the frame background to be 30% lighter than the original version… it still turned out too dark.

Such is life! The warm, orange-brown background in the middle almost completely disappeared, so we’re on to round 2 of proofs for the hardcovers.

All you can do is take things like this as a learning experience. All the practice I’ve already had didn’t save me this time, but it did make me very glad that this campaign funded as well as it did.  The Spymaster’s Prize will be released as a hardcover too, and because this one did well, I’ll be able to start the proofing process for TSP much sooner and will have photos of the actual hardcover book ready when it’s time for the campaign to launch. That will let me get colors on the graphics much closer to actuality, so I won’t be scrambling to fix it after the campaign is already over and shipping is supposed to begin.

When I have time to sit down and write it all out, I’ll share a look at all the awesome things I’ve made for this campaign, because it was unbelievably fun and I can’t wait to get to enjoy every little extra I created while packing up these rewards.

The post The Assassin’s Bride Hardcover is coming soon… appeared first on The World of Ithilear - Home of author Beth Alvarez.

I have a confession to make: Every time I see other authors getting cool book stuff made, I think to myself, I want that.

But, you know, for my own books.

I’m also a prolific crafter. Creative person. You know. I do a lot of stuff “in house” as it were–I have a grossly well-stocked craft room, a nice printer (that decided not to be nice this time) and decent proficiency with Photoshop.

I also draw a little, so most of the time, if there’s some kind of book swag I want? I can probably make it.

One of those things I saw and wanted was vellum overlays. If you haven’t seen overlays before, they’re an image printed on vellum paper, small enough to fit in the pages of your book. They’re often made with illustrations of specific scenes in a book. Vellum is semitransparent, so when you put the printed overlay in your book, you can (sort of) see the text through the image. They’re pretty neat.

So when the campaign for The Assassin’s Bride started, one of the stretch goals was a no-brainer: I’d finally get a chance to do a page overlay for a book. I knew of a local print shop that could handle vellum, which is great, since it’s hard to print on a regular inkjet printer, even if you have a really nice one like mine. The slick surface of vellum means the images often smudge as the paper moves through the print rollers. It can take up to 15 minutes for a vellum print to fully dry, which means if you want good results, you need a laser printer with good image quality. The print shop had one, the images were nice and clear, and the price per page was affordable. The only catch was I needed to get my own vellum.

So I got it, and a few days later, when I had a dentist appointment, I knew I’d be on that side of town and could stop by to get my vellum overlays printed. I’d illustrated a sweet (and heavily highlighted by readers) scene where Thea is mending Gil’s shirt while they have a heart to heart, discuss hard things, and he comforts her. It’s probably my favorite part of the whole book. My sister colored it for me, since I was really tight on time, and I pulled up to the shop with my flash drive in my pocket and my pack of vellum in the passenger seat.

Only one problem.

The print shop was gone.

They’d removed the flowers from the front garden. The windows were covered up. The sign was gone.

The print shop was closed.

I sat there panicking for a moment. There were other print shops, sure, but the pricing was well outside my budget, and I’d already paid for the vellum, and not everyone is willing to use papers brought in from outside. I knew of a few places online that could do the job, but the wait times were as painful as the price. I’d already run well over budget for the project due to a lot of dropped pledges that ultimately ate up whatever padding was left from previous goals, which was a hard learning experience that will help shape future campaigns. But the vellum overlays were already promised, so I sat in my car, racking my brain and trying to think of where on earth I could go that might have a nice printer.

That’s when I thought… you know what? Maybe the library.
The library has a lot of great services they offer, and a nice quality printer is one thing that’s available for public use, though they limit the number of pages one can print each day to ensure nobody can monopolize it for huge jobs. And as it happened, the library was just a few blocks away.

So I took my paper with me and went to the desk, explaining my plight. I need 60 overlays. I need them in color. I have the image on my phone and on my flash drive. Is there any chance your good color printer can handle vellum?
The librarian I spoke to first wasn’t sure what vellum was. I pulled out a sheet to show him, and the other librarians clustered around. Eventually they all concluded there was only one way to find out. The first printed page of the day is free, so they loaded it into the printer and asked me queue up a print job for my illustration.

And see, it’s funny–I felt really good about the drawing I’d done until this shirtless man in my art was displayed on a huge monitor in the middle of the entire library for everyone in the place to see.

All of a sudden, I was just a little self-conscious about my latest creative endeavor. And everyone was looking.

With a little help getting the printer loaded, we discovered it would print, and the image turned out beautifully. The only problem was the printer could only manage one page of vellum at a time, or it would jam. For a commercial grade printer designed for speed, that was a problem: Not only did we have to feed it one page at a time, we needed break points between each sheet so we could reload the tray.

Which meant queuing 60 vellum overlays, one at a time.

Loading the sheets of vellum in, one at a time.

Approving the prints, one at a time.

The task took two computers and multiple people manning the printer. But the system only lets library patrons use a computer for 60 minutes a day, so I had to get each page printed in less than a minute. And while I’m pretty long-legged and still sprightly enough to run across the library from computer A to computer B to keep the queue going, it was a lot.

Librarians stepped in to help. One to load the sheets of vellum. One to approve each print job at the second computer. Someone else had to constantly un-jam the printer, which proved to struggle with even one sheet of vellum. And I had to keep putting prints in the queue.

And so the library turned into a factory, pumping out page after page of my shirtless man drawings on ultra-thin paper while everyone stared.

I apologized to the nearest librarian. “I’m your weird one today, I guess,” I told him.
He sighed. “Not even in the top five.”

In the end, we finished within the hour allotted, but a system issue meant the print jobs hadn’t been logged and no receipt had been generated. So last of all, I toted my stack of overlays up to the circulation desk, where me and a librarian worked together to count all these slick pages with my shirtless man on them and confirm how much I owed.

They charged me a convenience fee.

By that point, I think it was more than fair.

Anyway, the overlays turned out great. But if I’m ever foolish enough to make them again, I’m buying my own printer and doing it at home.

Not pictured in The Assassin’s Bride this time, by the way. After all that, going upstairs to get a copy was asking too much.

Fall is the perfect time for fairy tales, and I’m glad to announce my next fairy tale story will be available November 6. Allow me to introduce The Cinders and the Crown!

Forget pumpkins. The clock just struck midnight, and the prince turned into a dragon.

Elise doesn’t care about the ball. All she wants is to protect those who raised her after her father died and her stepmother seized control of the estate that should have been hers. So when her stepmother proposes a deal, it’s all too easy to agree. In exchange for staging a theft for her sister to solve to win the prince’s favor, Elise will get her estate back—and with it, the safety of those she loves.

But safety isn’t so easily won.

Prince Corin’s fairy godmother couldn’t save him from his curse. All she could do was tame it with an enchanted amulet, one he must never remove. But when a masked princess of unrivaled beauty reels him in with her laugh at his birthday masquerade, the amulet is stolen and the curse is set free. Now trapped as a dragon from midnight until dawn, Corin must hunt down the thief and regain control of his curse before the monster he’s become lays waste to the kingdom he was meant to rule.

If only she hadn’t stolen his heart, too.

The Cinders and the Crown is a sweet, no-spice fairy tale adventure combining Cinderella with elements of Sleeping Beauty.

Preorder the book now!

This is an ongoing companion piece to be read after completing the Snakesblood Saga. Because it takes place during the final chapter of the last book, it will be very full of spoilers. It’s also unedited first draft fluff… just for fun! Read at your own risk, and expect installments no closer together than once a month.

* * * * *

Too much.

Too fast, and too soon.

Rune was not surprised to see his room empty when he emerged, but the disappointment was still there. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the simple tunic and trousers that waited at the foot of his bed, folded far more neatly than anything he ever did for himself.

He dressed in silence before he found a comb to drag through his hair. It had gotten long again, but he liked it that way and always had—first because it had irritated those who expected things from him, and later because it felt like freedom after years spent as part of the Triad’s army. They’d insisted he keep it short, lest an enemy catch hold of it on the battlefield, and while he could not say the fact he never felt like himself in those years had anything to do with appearances, it did not strike him as far-fetched.

Now, again, he found himself facing that same quandary.

His hands felt wrong when he took a stack of papers from his usual place at the window. The paper was too rough and his fingertips too sensitive.

There was discomfort, too. His claws and scales had been protection of a sort; without them, he had blisters on palms and the fleshy parts of fingers. He rubbed one with a thumb and wondered how much longer it would be before a decent callus formed.

But the blisters and tenderness did not affect his ability to write, and when he settled on the window seat with a thin board against his legs to support his notes, he grasped his pen the same way he always had. It settled between the terminal joints on his forefinger and middle finger, and while much had changed, his handwriting stayed the same—still loose and swirling, relaxed and smooth.

He’d etched notes into the margins of half the first page before the door creaked open and made him pause.

He had not expected Firal to return.

She lifted a tray in her hands, then ducked her eyes. “I thought you might want to eat something before you slept.”

“I should.” It was easy to forget, when he was invested in a project.

“And then you should sleep,” she added, almost scolding. “In your bed. Not at your desk.”

“I wasn’t planning to go back downstairs.” He had a desk in his private quarters, but it was so piled with notes and books that it wouldn’t have been usable, anyway. Sooner or later, he needed to make time to sort things out. It hadn’t bothered him when the house was his own and the only person there was Rhyllyn. Now, all of a sudden, someone else was in his private space and he found himself self-conscious about the mess.

Firal carried the tray to his bed. “No hunching over notes at the window, either. Come. Sit. Eat.”

He slid from his perch and carried his papers and pen with him. There would be no need to stay at the window if he could take his worth with him. His eyes flicked to his table. That, too, had somehow gotten covered in papers. Hadn’t it been clean yesterday?

The moment he sat, Firal settled next to him and filled his cup with water from the pitcher on the tray. “Your work can wait, you know.”

“I want to present this before Vicamros as soon as I can.” He ate something off his plate without looking to see what it was. His board balanced on his thigh well enough, and he kept writing.

She stared at his hand. “What is that?”

It took far too long for him to realize she meant the pen. He tilted it, letting the fine steel nib glint in the streaming moonlight. “Oh. It’s a capillary pen. The ink draws down from inside.”

Firal shook her head. “Being here is an experience, that’s for certain. Some advancements came to Elenhiise through trade, but it seems we missed a great deal of what the mainland has to offer.”

“One of the benefits of working with a lot of scholars is being first in line to test new inventions.” He cracked a smile and offered her the pen. “It’s far more convenient than ink wells.”

Her fingertips brushed his hand, the brush light as a feather and soft as down, yet it was enough to make his pulse quicken.

How desperately he wanted that—simple proximity and a tender touch. He swallowed against a thickness in his throat and stared at her hand as she drew an experimental squiggle across the top of his page. It folded itself into a star, and its looping tail twisted into a heart.

His chest tightened until he thought he might burst.

“It writes so smoothly. No one will want to use quills at all once these are in common production.” She offered it back.

Rune couldn’t make himself take it. “They’ll be in markets all over the Triad within a few months, most likely. More than a few innovators have come up with something like it, and they’ll be eager to be the first one to have something for sale.”

She smiled, a genuine spark of interest in her eyes. Those sort of smiles had been so rare since her arrival, he dared not look away. “Do you make things like this?”

Somehow, the question caught him off guard. He stared a moment, then shook his head as he finished a mouthful of food. “No. I don’t—I’m more…it’s…civil engineering, I suppose. Bridges. Water supply systems.” He spread a hand toward the papers on his lap and the faint etching of a scar on his palm made him pause.

Odd, how he’d never noticed the mark was on both sides of his hand until after the scales were gone. He’d spared it little thought. Its presence made sense, knowing how he’d gotten it. But in the feeble moonlight, the silvery lines struck him as more stark, and he ran the thumb of his other hand across them.

Firal touched his wrist and he grew still.

Her hand was soft, warm, and he found himself longing to feel it anywhere else. His arm, his shoulder, his back, his face—anything, just to have more contact.

“It’s a worthy purpose,” she said gently. “Peaceful service.”

And that was a harsh criticism, when his hands had only ever known cutting claws and the hard hilt of a blade.

He slid the tray aside, whatever appetite he’d remembered now gone. “Thank you. For the food.”

She withdrew and took the tray from the bed, only to move it to the top of the chest of drawers—one of few places where his books and scrolls and loose notes had note yet taken over. “I’ll leave it here, in case you want more. Don’t stay up too late.”

“You’re leaving?” In spite of how the words hurt, his voice stayed steady. Calm. All but disinterested.

She lingered. “Should I stay?”

Rune dared not move, lest she bound away like a deer frightened in the woods. Again, his hands drew together and he found himself rubbing the scar.

“Yes,” he said, and the single word made his mouth go dry.

Today’s the day the new hardcover edition of The Assassin’s Bride launches on Kickstarter!

If you haven’t been keeping up with me on Instagram or Facebook, you probably missed all the updates regarding all the extras that go with the campaign!

First there’s a double sided bookmark, featuring line art by me and colored by LissieDixonArt.

But if you’re a fan of coloring, you can also get a digital printable version of the line art to color your own bookmark!

There’s a sticker featuring a chibi version of Thea working her magic to create Gil’s disguise…

And a new digital version of the map that’s in color instead of black and white, like what’s printed in the books. And if we hit the launch goal today, we’ll unlock our first reward: a printed version of the map to go with every physical copy of the book!

There’s a LONG list of stretch goals, from more sticker designs to character portraits, and an all-new bonus scene to go with the book.

If you want to see even more of the goodies in store and get a peek at what the inside of the book looks like, check out the campaign on Kickstarter now.

It’s only running for a bit over two weeks, so don’t wait—especially since a successful campaign means helping bring a fourth book for the series to life!

This is an ongoing companion piece to be read after completing the Snakesblood Saga. Because it takes place during the final chapter of the last book, it will be very full of spoilers. It’s also unedited first draft fluff… just for fun! Read at your own risk, and expect installments no closer together than once a month.

* * * * *

The house was quiet when he led her through the front door. Firal did not know if Minna slept, but she tried to tread lightly as Rune drew her across the parquet floor of the entryway and up the stairs.

She had not yet gotten over the grandeur of the estate or its house, though she understood how it came to be. He had always been resourceful, and though she hated to admit it, he was good at manipulating those who held power.

Of all the terrifying skills he’d held, that one frightened her most—but it was that one which ahd planted seeds of doubt in their marriage, that had led to their downfall to begin with.

He manipulated everyone else so easily. Why should she ever believe he would not do the same to her?

“This way.” His voice was jarring, soft as it was, and Firal worked to keep her nerves from showing.

He led her to the uppermost floor of the house, the loft kept aside for his own personal refuge, and her heart fluttered hard enough that it tangled against her ribs.

She’d been there only that morning, yet this was different.

He held her hand. He’d drawn her in. He brought her into his sanctuary without hesitation, a wordless promise he wanted her there.

Her fingers tightened on his.

He squeezed back, then turned her toward a door at the far end of the room, past his bed.

Firal held back her questions and instead wondered at the odd familiarity of it all.

Was it supposed to feel natural? The way his skin slid against hers as he removed his hand from her grasp? The way the air felt so disappointingly cool in the absence of his warmth?

Rune pushed the door open with his shoulder and touched something against the wall. Mage-lights roused themselves, casting a warm, pleasant glow across a wide copper tub at the far end of the room.

She almost laughed. “I should have known.”

“You don’t know anything yet.” He flashed her a grin and her heart skipped.

It was the first time he’d done that since her arrival. There had been a few faint smirks and the forced smiles that manners dictated when they were in the Royal City, but this was different—warm, welcoming and genuine.

Her chest ached.

Whatever emotions and longing he’d stirred up in her, he didn’t notice. Instead, he crossed to the tub and reached for a ring on the wall. “A lot of this is Rhyllyn’s work. He’s got a talent for imbuing and cycling power.”

Firal lingered beside the door. “Imbuing?”

“Creating charged items. Planting magic inside objects.” He waved a hand as if that explained it.

Her brows rose. “I wasn’t aware there were any mages still capable of such things.” It was a priceless skill, one her teachers had called a Lost Art, and he meant to tell her they’d done that exact thing… to build a bath chamber?

“He can’t do anything like Gate-stones, if that’s what you’re thinking. Maybe after he has a chance to train as Alda’anan.” Rune pulled the ring in the wall downward and the wooden slat pulled free. It tipped down to create a spout, and steaming water poured from it to splash into the copper tub below.

Again, his nonchalance made her all the more surprised. “It’s hot?”

“A heating element in the basin.” He clapped the spout shut again and pointed toward the ceiling. “Rhyllyn attuned its power cycle the to the mage-lights. Once they awaken, it heats as the water pours through.”

Firal crossed her arms and pretended not to be impressed. “And what if you don’t want a hot bath?”

“Then you’re welcome to bathe downstairs in one of the traditional bath chambers. This one is still…” He trailed off and tilted his gaze upward before he produced a satisfactory term. “Experimental.”

“And it’s water,” she remarked. “So of course that’s where your experiments are.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips and he turned away, though he did not look abashed.

Firal gazed at him expectantly, though she did not know how to push him to share.

In the end, he needed no coaxing. He pressed the ring flat to the wall and traced it with a fingertip, then bent to check the drain in the tub. It was open, and what little water he’d poured into the basin was already gone. Where it drained to, she did not know, but she suspected it was as creative and efficient as the rest of his strange ideas.

“We always want what’s forbidden,” he said at last. He still stared at the drain.

She did not follow. “What do you mean?”

“Water.” He smoothed back his hair, though it refused to lay nicely, dampened with sweat and streaked with dust and dirt. “My father always said it was too great a risk. I had the stone Medreal made for me, but there was only so much a glamour could do. Water was forbidden. Reflections don’t always lie.”

The quiet resignation in his voice made her chest tighten.

“But it was an island. How did he plan to keep you away from water forever?” The impossibility seemed at odds with the version of Kifel she knew. All her time leading the island he’d once ruled had shown her what sort of person he was; he’d been pragmatic, modest in taste, eschewing luxury in favor of the practical. To believe he could hold an entire ocean at bay was nothing short of absurd.

“Fear, maybe. After all, I never learned to swim.” The smile he offered was grim now, laced with irony.

Even she had learned to swim, and she’d grown up in the temple, as far away from the shore as anything on Elenhiise could get.

No; she corrected that thought a moment later.

The ruins had been farther still.

But even there, it had called to him, for the use of the waterwheel and the water races that fed the bathhouse had been his favorite project there, too. Recollection of the two of them standing in the river’s shallows and the effortless way he’d lifted the water from its course flitted through her thoughts.

Firal tilted her head, ever so slightly. “Are you certain you don’t have an affinity?”

“I think I’d be the first person to know if I did.” He left the tub and strode instead to the opposite corner, where a low wall that served no obvious purpose jutted into the room. He caught the back of his shirt and pulled it off overhead.

A squeak escaped her throat before she caught herself and she spun away.

His chuckle was soft enough to be a caress. “Nothing here you haven’t seen before.”

“I’m not certain I agree with that.” It hadn’t been all that long since he’d greeted her shirtless at the door to his quarters in the Spiral Palace. She had certainly noticed a few differences then.

“Well then you can relax, because I won’t take long.” The sound of more fabric hitting the floor told her he’d finished undressing.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “You’ve always been very brazen for a man with so much loathing for your own body.”

“My distaste for certain parts of it never meant I was not aware of my other qualities.” Something creaked and a patter like rainfall filled the room.

It was just strange enough to spark her curiosity and make her turn back.

Water fell from the ceiling in narrow streams and he stood beneath them, conveniently behind the low wall she’d thought pointless.

Ah.

Her cheeks colored. “Modesty was never one of those qualities, either.”

The smirk that curved his lips was nothing shy of roguish. “I know what I’m good at.” His fingers slid through his wet hair before he retrieved a sliver of soap and scrubbed it clean.

Firal fought to keep her gaze on his face, on his infuriatingly knowing eyes that stared back at her in a silent taunt. No matter how she struggled, her gaze tried to follow the water that coursed down the rest of him, so she sniffed and turned away. “You’re as insufferable as the day we met.”

“And yet you’re still here.” The statement was dry, though laced with amusement. “But if you don’t want to be, I could use something clean to wear to bed.”

Without hesitation, she stepped from the bath chamber and shut the door behind her. Never in her life had she seen him in a nightshirt, and she doubted he had one now, but something ordinary would do.

It was only when she reached a tall chest of drawers and pulled open the top drawer that she realized what he’d said.

Brant’s shaking branches, how could she be so dim?

An invitation. A subtle suggestion of everything she’d tried to elicit and failed.

Firal gritted her teeth and leaned forward until her forehead touched the drawer’s edge.

Seduction, it seemed, would never be her strong suit.

If you haven’t seen it on social media yet, big news: I’m starting a special project to create hardcover editions of all my books that are currently missing them, beginning with Artisan Magic!

The Assassin’s Bride is up first, introducing a beautiful new design for the hardcover edition.

And even better, you’ll have the opportunity to upgrade your hardcover book with a satin ribbon bookmark and solid-color sprayed edges, hand-airbrushed by me.

I always regretted that these books came out during a period in my life where I was too busy to give them the incredible launch they deserved. Now it’s finally happening with this campaign, which means there are tons of extras to go with the books, from digital printable goodies to stickers and beautiful new bookmarks. There are also tons of incredible stretch goals planned to go with the campaign, including new and updated character artwork!

This hardcover project launches on August 28.

Follow the campaign on Kickstarter now to receive notification when it goes live. I can’t wait for you to see all the new things in the works to go with this series!

This is an ongoing companion piece to be read after completing the Snakesblood Saga. Because it takes place during the final chapter of the last book, it will be very full of spoilers. It’s also unedited first draft fluff… just for fun! Read at your own risk, and expect installments no closer together than once a month.

* * * * *

Firal had not set foot inside the study often. She hesitated at the door as she battled with her own sense and the almost reverent sense of respect she held for what she interpreted as private space. Had others regarded her study in Ilmenhith with the same regard?

Yet hers had never been unwelcoming to visitors. Often, her door had stood ajar, the tiny gap letting people know she was inside.

This door was always closed.

But open or closed hardly mattered, she reminded herself. The person she sought was not inside and she still stood with a plate in her hands and a pitcher tucked in the crook of her elbow

If he was not there, she had no reason to be there, either. She stepped back and drew the door shut behind her, then turned on her heel with the plate atop her palm, as deft as any barmaid. If he wasn’t in his study, there was one other place she expected to find him.

She carried the food up the stairs and wished she’d thought to bring a tray, but she hadn’t thought she’d have to go far. The latch on the door at the top of the second stairway was gone, so the door swung open with a gentle nudge of her elbow. The loft on the other side was dark, though that was no guarantee it was empty. She slipped inside and scanned the space, half expecting to find him hunched over a book or working figures on some scrap of paper. Instead, her eyes drifted to the large windows and the estate beyond them.

Outside, a light glowed among the trees.

Firal could not fathom what might have drawn him out there, but there was no one else who might be so close to the house. She returned to the kitchen and considered fetching a tray, but toting food through the woods in the dark did not strike her as pleasant.

She covered the plate and left it on the table instead, taking far longer to straighten the corners of the cloth than such a task required. Then she turned the cup just so beside the plate, and rotated the pitcher until its handle was oriented perfectly.

Did she go outside now? Encourage him to stop whatever he was doing and settle for the evening? Or was she better off finding herself a book to read and retire on her own? He hadn’t requested help or company. He hadn’t even let anyone know he meant to venture outside. Any other time, she might have thought that meant he wanted to be alone. Yet he’d welcomed her the night before, dragged her into his arms and curled close to sleep after she’d done everything her power to earn his ire.

After all these years, she still did not know how to read him.

Frustrated, Firal skimmed her hands through her hair and stepped out the back door.

If he wished for privacy, he could tell her. Or else he could sulk, or ignore her. Any of them would get the message across.

The moment she set foot outside, a steady thud reached her ears. An axe, she thought, or maybe a hammer, and she skirted the edge of the woods in search of some trail or some sign he’d passed through.

The light in the woods was harder to detect from the ground, but she found a place it glowed brighter—a trail that led down a gentle slope to the creek nearest the house.

Firal had not ventured down there more than once. The trail led to a pretty place, a flat clearing where the creek meandered through across a bed of pretty gravel, but the thought of Lulu playing at the water’s edge had filled her with discomfort and she had decided it was best to wait until the girl was older before they visited again.

Rather than a clearing, Firal found a mess.

Piles of tangled sticks and heaps of stripped-off leaves littered the clearing. Thicker branches supported a log that had been split in half, its insides hollowed, while both ends hosted… something. Right in the middle of it all, Rune stood with a knife in one hand and a tree branch in the other, stripping bark to leave the smooth, pale wood underneath.

She looked between him and the strange, fin-armed columns beside the hollowed log until her brows drew together and crinkled her forehead.

The bare stick transformed into a pin of some sort before he noticed her there. No surprise registered on his face—maybe he’d sensed her approach. There had been a time when his magic had burned like a beacon in her awareness, but much had changed. She no longer felt him so clearly and they had not discussed what that meant for his magic.

Instead of greeting her, Rune gestured to the contraption at the foot of the log. “Hold that?”

Firal bit back the sharp greeting that sprang to the tip of her tongue and did as he asked. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she caught it by the fins and held it steady as he wiggled the newly-carved pin into a hole in its top. When it refused to go any farther, he shaved off the excess with his knife and gave the fins a turn.

They moved without sticking.

Satisfied, he strode past her to take a bucket from the ground and stepped down into the creek bed to gather water.

Waterwheels, then. Upon closer examination, she noticed the slight angle at which the log sat. The strange, finned waterwheels sat at both its mouth and its end. Whatever for, though, she could not decipher. “What are you doing?”

“Getting water,” he replied, as if it should have been obvious.

Firal gave him a long-suffering stare.

“Testing,” he added. “I think vertical fins will be a lot more reliable. If one breaks off, it’s less likely to form a gap that keeps it from turning.” He upended the bucket at the top of the log and let the waterwheels explain on their own. They set to spinning at once, the water directed by the angled fins, and both turned a crank on the side of the log that was attached to nothing.

She watched the water spill from the log’s end, its impact digging a little farther into the already-wet soil. Mud splashed everywhere. “And this is related to your bathhouse…?”

Rune poured another bucket of water through the ramp. “Instead of windmills, waterwheels. The pipe will be small enough it will bring no security risk in running it straight into the city. Waterwheels go inside the pipe, and the water moving through it will power its own lift out of the reservoir.” He pointed at the muddy furrow at the log’s end, then gestured upward.

“That’s what this is for?” Firal motioned toward the crank, though it was little more than a spinning disk of wood for now. She could picture the sort of complicated gears it would require. She’d seen enough of them in Core.

He nodded. “That’s the idea, anyway. I wanted to test the fin placements first. The real ones will need to be bronze, most likely. Steel would make rust a problem. We’ll need to figure out some kind of filter, though, something to keep debris out of the pipes so the fins don’t break.” His gaze unfocused as he spoke.

Firal couldn’t resist a smile.

His eyes flicked to her face. “What?”

“It was water in Core, too. The baths. Why water?” She arched a brow.

Rune snorted softly. “They had baths in Core before I ever got there. I just made them better. And this…” He lowered the bucket and as he rested a hand against the log, a hint of wistfulness touched his face. “Just a project to bring back a piece of home, I suppose.”

That tugged at her heart in a way she hadn’t expected. She touched a hand to her chest and willed away the ache that spawned there. No matter what they built, there was no bringing back what they’d lost in Core. Or Ilmenhith. Or any of the rest of the island.

“Besides,” he added as he tossed the bucket aside and wiped his wet hands against his already-dirtied trousers, “have you smelled the nobles in the Royal City? I’d prefer not to live someplace where baths are considered a luxury and not a part of essential grooming.”

She snorted a laugh, the momentary morosity broken. “Oh, I beg your pardon.”

“What?” One of his brows twitched, though it didn’t quite surrender to his quizzical tone.

“I’ve not had a chance to properly wash in days,” Firal said. “That is, I do make use of the washstand in my room, but—”

Rune stepped forward and caught her by the hand before she could finish. “Come with me,” he said, even as he pulled her along and gave her no choice. “I have something to show you.”

Her heart thumped against her ribs.

The abandoned lantern cast long shadows against the path as he led her back to the house, but all she could look at was their hands.

It felt so natural, the way their fingers met and twined together.

The lantern winked out, extinguished by some thread of power she only barely sensed, leaving only his touch to guide her in the dark.