About Shadow Rite:
Ripped from her world and her Fayte Guardian friends, Jane Shackle finds herself captive to a vengeful queen in a strange, otherworldly realm filled with mythical creatures, dangerous magic, and shocking clues to the secrets in her past.
When an old ally comes to her rescue, Jane discovers redemption for her past wrongs may be within reach—until a bittersweet revelation changes everything. Since her life isn’t the only one hanging in the balance, Jane must forge new alliances and fight harder than ever to survive and protect those she loves.
Can she defeat her powerful enemy and find a way back to her own world where true love awaits, or will the fight follow her home and destroy everything she holds dear?
SHADOW RITE is the final episode in The Queen’s Fayte trilogy, a thrilling dark fantasy adventure that weaves captivating mystery into the hidden corners of history to keep you spellbound. If you like clever heroines, ruthless villains, and a slow-burn romance tangled up in the Victorian world, then you’ll love this enchanting series from best-selling author D.D. Croix!
Excerpt:
Fingernails struck the edge of the alabaster throne like knives striking flint. Tap. Tap. Tap. That insistent rhythm drew my attention to the throne’s occupant and her inscrutable sapphire stare.
Who was this woman?
Not an earthly woman, to be sure. No human had flesh so smooth or so pale it practically shimmered. A moment shook loose from my foggy mind. This creature, whatever she was, had torn a hole between our worlds and dragged me through it. Only someone like Druansha could do that, or someone like Krol.
A slight tilt of her head confirmed my suspicion. Long teardrop ears poked through that silky curtain of snow-white hair. She was what the Fayte Guardians called an Ancient One. A fae.
Her fingernails, sharpened to points like tiny blades, tapped their impatience again. I shifted for a better view, but an icy cold stone pressed against my cheek.
Wait… why was I sprawled upon the floor?
In my confusion, another memory emerged. I’d been with Lucas and the other Fayte Guardians. The Converging Ceremony had been underway in Balmoral Fayte Hall, or what was left of it after my battle with Krol, when this ethereal figure appeared in the mist. She’d spoken, but what had she said? I sat upright and pressed my temple. Something about the Brightlands. Something about me.
It’s time for you to answer for your crimes against the Brightlands.
She’d delivered those words with the same vexed expression she wore now.
“Good, you’re awake,” she sneered. “Guards, get her to her feet.” She snapped those preternaturally long fingers, and two armed guards standing with others along the room’s perimeter stomped to my side. They aimed iron spears at my face.
I scrambled to my feet. “The weapons are hardly necessary.” The words scratched over my coarse, dry tongue.
Where was I? A quick glance around revealed narrow windows slashed into glassy, opalescent walls that glowed with soft, white light and soared up to a single, crystalline point. Was this the Brightlands, as she’d said? Was this the palace I’d glimpsed from the Gray Woods?
Guards and attendants filled the sprawling room, with the throne at its center. No other chairs or tables or furnishings of any kind cluttered the floor, but upon the walls hung tapestries like those in the Fayte Sanctums. These, however, depicted a single figure, the one perched with feline grace upon the throne.
Her long, willowy limbs reminded me of Druansha, but the others weren’t like her at all.
The guards were of a stockier build with bulbous noses, long beards, and arms and legs as thick as trees. I towered over them as if they were children, but their portly bellies and the crevices around their eyes suggested otherwise.
I tried to ignore them and adjusted the Fayte robe that covered my simple cotton dress and tugged at my gloves. Everything was still in its proper place, which was a comfort. Instinctively, my fingers found my Faytling, still hidden beneath the robe and my bodice. Carefully, and as discreetly as I could, I worked it out from beneath my collar.
The movement earned me a jab of the spear. “Stand still when Queen Rhilasa speaks to you.”Amazon
About D.D. Croix:
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