Tuesday, February 25, 2014

THE WISH LIST by Gabi Stevens

I met Gabi at Bubicon in Albuquerque, NM last year, but only recently did this work come up on my reading list. I ended up reading these books back to back, and got more drunk on magic than her reluctant fairy godmothers. These stories are pure reading fun. ~ DM

Book 1 of the Time of Transition Trilogy

In the magical world a Time of Transition occurs every seventy years. Old Council members step down and new ones are chosen, but the biggest change is the appointment of the Fairy Godmothers. Unlike their role in storybooks, Fairy Godmothers protect the barrier between the magical and human world.

Only this time the transition won’t be smooth.

When Kristin Montgomery discovers her three aunts are fairy godmothers and she's next in line for the job, her uncomplicated life disappears like magic. No, not like magic; it is magic. Kristin not only has to deal with burgeoning magical powers, but also a reluctant arbiter, a selfish sprite, and a suave French sorcerer. When one of them turns out to be the bad guy, Kristin must learn to trust her heart and her instincts to keep herself and the ones she loves out of danger.

Set in contemporary San Diego, The Wish List combines fantasy with romance with and a touch of humor. ~ Gabi Stevens

eBooks and print where available

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“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She whirled around, and her throat closed in fear. A hulking brute of a man stood beside her, glaring at her. In the next instant, his fist shot out. Screaming, she cringed and braced herself for the blow.

It never came.

“Stop that noise.”

Startled silent, she stared at him. His hand was behind her back, and he was practically growling at her. He cast his gaze skyward. “God, Aldous, what did you get me into?”

The man’s scowl almost made her scream again, but instead she wrinkled up her forehead. “Are you going to hit me?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t hit women.” He held out his hand. “What were you thinking?”

Clutched in his fist was the red wand. Startled, she looked up at him. “Where did you get that?”

He shook it at her. “It was following you. Why didn’t you stow it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your wand. It was following you. Do you want to be seen?”

“Seen? What the hell are you talking about?” She stared at the wand in his hand, and then looked into his eyes.

And froze.

A burnished copper gaze blazed back at her, its fire summoning images of Vulcan’s forge. Black hair shadowed his brow, and an aquiline nose guided the burning gaze into hers. Her breath rushed out of her.

Wow. What a face.

Wow. What an angry face.

He glowered at her. “Take this thing.” He thrust the wand at her.

She took it. “Who are you and how did you get this wand?”

He closed his eyes as if seeking patience. “I didn’t get the wand, it followed you. That’s why you either stow it or carry it with you.” He reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and brandished a long white willow stalk wrapped in gold and inlaid with ebony. “Like this.”

“Oh my God, you think you’re a fairy godmother ... er, godfather too?”

“Very funny.” He squinted at her with a mixture of disbelief and disdain. “I am a wizard, not a fairy.”

“Oh, well, pardon me.” She didn’t care how lovely he was to look at, she wasn’t about to hang around with some delusional man. “Thanks for your help. I’ll be seeing you.” Not.

She slipped her key into the lock and opened the security door. As she pulled it open, the handle jerked from her hand, and the door slammed shut, reverberating with a loud crash. “Hey, you can’t--“

“I haven’t finished with you yet.” The “wizard” was pointing his wand at the door.

“Did you do that?” She faced him, anger riding high in her blood. How dared he bang the door shut. Then she noticed how far her head tilted back to look into his gaze. Her eyes widened. God, the man was tall. He towered over her. She swallowed hard.

“Now you look terrified.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Should I be?”

“No.” He drew his hand down his face.

“And I’m supposed to trust you?” Panic rose in her throat. “I don’t know who you are--”

“Ritter. Tennyson Ritter. I’m your arbiter.”


About the Author

Gabi Stevens lives in Albuquerque, NM, where she dreams up new stories to tell.

You can reach her at:

email:  GabiStevens505@gmail.com

website: www.GabiStevens.com

Twitter twitter.com/GabiStevens

Facebook facebook.com/gabistevensfans

Blog GabiStevens.wordpress.com

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