Havan's Heavenly Haven: Book Tour: Bad Magic @PridePromo @dreamspinners

Let the excerpt begin…

Bad Magic

Evelyn Elliott

Series: Spell Slave, book one

Release date: October 28, 2015

Blurb:

Morality is relative. At least that’s what young sorcerer Regis Teller convinces himself. He’s done what he must to survive: working for a witch since he was nine, helping her throw the kingdom into anarchy, and taking his only comfort in her mysterious son, Crow. And soon, Regis is going to commit his first murder.

A do-gooder named Jonathan White has information the witch needs, and it’s Regis’s job to get that information and slit Jonathan’s throat. But then Regis actually meets Jonathan. And Jonathan is perfect—a hero with a passion for justice and little regard for civility.

Lucky for Regis, Jonathan has a weakness for attractive men. Lucky for Jonathan, Regis is fast developing a conscience and a heart. But for Regis, keeping both of them alive at their adventure’s end means breaking a magical oath and surviving his ruthless boss—all without telling Jonathan the truth. Falling in love is never easy, especially when everyone involved is lying through their teeth.

Categories: Bisexual, Fantasy, M/M Romance, Romance

161 pages – 55,000 words

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Christine Griffin

Exclusive Excerpt:

Regis woke up on a hard floor. His head hurt, and his wrists ached. For the longest time, he lay there, content to focus on not hurling. When he was certain he could open his eyes without dying, he did, and was almost blinded. It was noon.

He was in a cage-like cart being pulled by a horse, and his wrists were bound behind his back. There were two others with him: a girl he had never seen before and Jonathan.

When they had first met, Regis had thought him artless. Now he saw that what he had mistaken for a lack of emotion was, in fact, a meticulously crafted mask. For a split second, that mask vanished, and Regis saw concern, then relief. Then it smoothed away. “You’re awake,” Jonathan said.

“I hate you,” Regis said.

Jonathan glanced away again. “It’s good to see you’re still yourself. I was worried they’d hit you too hard.”

Regis struggled upright. “This is your fault. You said a dragon would scare off anyone. You said we didn’t need to worry about bandits!”

“She probably went hunting.”

“She went hunting yesterday.”

“She’s the size of a horse,” said Jonathan. “She eats a lot.”

The girl across from him giggled. “What are you looking at?” Regis snapped. “Yes, we have a dragon, and you know what? It’s going to come eat you.” Jonathan kicked Regis hard in the shin. “Ow!”

Jonathan’s hands were untied, Regis noticed. And so were the girl’s, come to think of it. He squirmed, trying to reach the knot at his wrists, but failed. “How did you untie yourself?” he demanded.

Jonathan’s mouth quirked up. “Her name is Aveline,” he said, nodding to the girl. “I was polite to her. Maybe you should try it.” He made no motion to help Regis, and when Regis looked at the girl, she cowered.

He scowled at the floor and concentrated. Sparks crackled at his fingers, and they singed the rope until it broke. Smirking, he rubbed his wrists.

He sat up and looked around. They rode in the midst of a group of armed men. Ahead, a larger cart held five captives and a pile of stolen goods. For outlaws, they were surprisingly well-equipped.

Jonathan watched one of the bandits intently. The rich man who was apparently their leader. “What?” Regis asked.

“He has my sword,” Jonathan whispered.

Regis took one look at the expression on Jonathan’s face and decided not to pursue that line of questioning further. “So what’re they doing with us?” he asked the girl.

“I, I think we’re going to be slaves,” she said.

Regis frowned. “There’s slavery here?”

“In this barony, yes.”

Jonathan sat with his hips canted as if trying to keep his weight shifted to the side. He rested heavily against the back of the cart, and despite his casual air, he hadn’t moved his upper torso at all since Regis had woken. Regis nudged him with his foot. “Hey. Take off your shirt.”

Jonathan arched his eyebrows. “What?”

“Don’t give me that innocent look,” Regis said. “You’re injured. Take. Off. Your. Shirt.” Carefully, moving as little as possible, Jonathan unlaced and discarded his tunic. Regis’s breath caught. A mass of purple bruises covered Jonathan’s right side. “What happened?”

Jonathan looked away. “They hit you. You collapsed.”

“You fought them?”

“I lost my temper.”

“You lost your temper,” Regis repeated. “They had you at knifepoint and on your knees. You’re lucky they beat you.”

“Lucky,” Jonathan said through gritted teeth.

“You’re alive. I can help you.”

Jonathan took care of himself. He had quite a few scars, but all were evenly healed and thin. His muscles weren’t massive or encumbering, but they were noteworthy, and they were just about everywhere. It wasn’t the first time Regis had seen Jonathan bare-chested, but it was the first time he’d had the opportunity to touch.

He raised his hand and laid it on Jonathan’s side.

He remembered vividly how Jonathan had attacked him during their first meeting. The way Jonathan had slammed him into the floor and held him there. He remembered how Jonathan had looked when the slavers had captured them, bound and on his knees, hair mussed, eyes dark with fury. And then it hit him: a rush of dark emotion, the realization that he was a sorcerer, and this man—though larger than him—was essentially weaker. It was simple to exert force, and it would be easy to hold Jonathan down, or to….

Well, to do anything he wanted at all.

“Regis,” Jonathan said in a low voice. “Are they frightening?”

Regis’s fingers twitched on Jonathan’s ribs. “What?”

“The scars,” Jonathan said. “The bruises.”

“No.”

He pressed lightly, checking for broken bones. Jonathan didn’t make a noise, but he tensed. It was fascinating to see the minute shift of tendon beneath skin. The way his jaw locked, the lone indication of pain.

Then Jonathan fidgeted and cleared his throat. “Regis.” Regis cocked his head expectantly. “My side hurts,” Jonathan said.

“Oh! Right, right. Sorry.”

He pushed more power into healing Jonathan than he should have, silently encouraging the magic to soothe Jonathan as well as repair him. A rush of dizziness overcame him. When he came to, he was collapsed against Jonathan, his head on Jonathan’s shoulder. Jonathan was perfectly still beneath him. Regis struggled to his hands and knees. “Sorry,” he said. He couldn’t quite pull together the strength to crawl off.

Jonathan relaxed. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

It took Regis a moment to realize what he was doing. How close they were. The way Jonathan’s eyelashes were lowered, the sole show of emotion on his face.

Carefully, he got up and went back to his side of the cart.

The village became hushed. Passersby peered into their cage. Without warning, the door to the cart swung open. Several hands seized Regis from behind, and he was unceremoniously thrown out of the cart onto his back.

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It’s all about the author…

At first glance, Evelyn Elliott seems like a perfectly normal person. Do not be deceived.
Her hobbies include watching grisly horror movies, torturing her characters, and tending to her flower garden. She enjoys long walks on the beach and collecting the souls of small children. Whenever she reads a book, she always roots for the villain.

Avoid her at all costs. Certainly do not find her on facebook or befriend her online. You have better things to do.

…and stalking them :)

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