Katya is in love with Azovka, the Mistress of Copper Mountain. Katya's fiancee Danilo dares carve Azovka an impossible flower of stone. They witness the ruthlessness of the Romanovs and clutches of corrupt Bailiffs in the Ural Mountains, where Azovka's Copper Men have ruled since they were first mined out of Mount Azov. But when Azovka begins to turns to stone, Katya fears the worst - and that Danilo will follow Azovka to a Hell of malachite shadow. With Baba Yaga's guidance, and the magick in her veins, Katya must save them all! retelling of pavel bazhov's "the stone flower"
"Yekaterina, work at your needlework!" Teacher Alina snapped. I was gazing out the window onto the bustling town of Podentsky, a mining metropolis in the thick of the Urals fifty miles from Yekaterinburg, my namesake. I watched copper-tinged snow fall. It was winter, 1910, and I was seventeen years old. The Popovas, our regents – we knew no tsar in the Copper Lands save Tsar Nikolai's despicable Bailiff – graced our mountains with mineral and vegetative bounty, but everything here was tinged green as crabapple ice. Even the emerald snow.
I giggled, braiding Azovka's black hair. It had streaks of green and cinnamon striated like veins of ore throughout. She was my dearest friend.
"What a vision you are!" I crooned, ignoring Teacher Alina. I tugged lightly at Azovka's hair and twirled it round my thumb. Azovka smiled, her malachite eyes and scaled legs shining in the oil lamplight. Teacher Alina trimmed the wick as Azovka practiced her algebra.
"Use the malachite hair tie," Azovka whispered, smiling secretly. She drew a band of copper from her purse and enchanted it to be a ribbon as fine as the tsarina's silk. You could find malachite like that – a gown – in sheets at Snake Hill. Azovka, the Mistress of Copper Mountain, liked to grow it like Japanese bonsai trees. She had whole gardens of gems, below the Urals in her Copper Mountain.
I ooohed and ahed as my classmates looked on in fear. The townsfolk treated the Popovas with awe and superstition. But Azovka was my friend – though immortal. I trusted the Copper Men in a way Prokovitch the Stonecutter did not. I confided in Azovka like our Landlord Peter swallowing dirt from Mokosh before striking a rent deal – a holy bond. The mining men, they said the Copper Women were their deaths. But to me, Azovka was life.
"Okay, Azovkalisha," I cooed, my blonde hair and ruddy fat cheeks – I was plump as a partridge, with muscles from hunting and lifting heavy stones for father – shining in contrast to Azovka's slim elegance. I tied the living stone around her hair. It was any day in Podentsky. It was all there would ever be.
We played P'yanitsa, what Americans called War, and our old playing cards had green crowned lizards on them with maiden's faces and brown braids – the Popova family crest.
"Ha!" I said, triumphing over Azovka's queen with my king of hearts. "I've stolen your heart, Azovkalisha."
"It has always belonged to you, my bosom friend." She said, then winked. "I'm hungry, Katya," Azovka whispered, fingering her freshly plaited braid. The malachite ribbon snaked like her lizards around her copper-black tresses. We bundled up in our dresses, malachite belts, kerchiefs, elk boots and white fur coats and ate lunch down by the stone works. The grain mill churned in the river'd distance, and horses and buggies rode through the crossway, carrying iron, copper, malachite, semiprecious stones, and even the rare diamond or sapphire – all guarded by vila militias. Dedushka always warned me to stay away from the vila – the storm spirits would suck you dry.
Azovka's nanny Rubenya, a crinkly Copper Woman, had made us white borscht. We ate it with some ham sandwiches Azovka had fixed. Azovka had spent all night with the dough – she really liked to bake. We dipped the rye bread in the soup from the thermos. Our mothers had both died in childbirth, and my father, Stepan Petrovich, was the captain of the Copper Guard, an ancient order of warrior miners that served the Popovas.
Alina and her father Alexei Popova needed minerals to survive – the finest Yakutian diamonds, jade from China, topaz from Brazil. The Copper Guard ran a vast network exporting the Ural Mountain's riches past the Malachite Gates and importing minerals from abroad. They let the rest of the world in past their diamond swords. My dedushka was a quiet man, a man of action – I was the only talker.
"Here, Azovkalisha – I picked this one from the river," I smiled, handing Azovka a tumbled moissanite.
Azovka's eyes brimmed with tears. "Why are you so kind to me, my Katy?" she said fondly, taking a bite with her pearly teeth. They cut the gem like butter, and the lizards that always thronged by her feet thrummed with excitement. Azovka's scales foiled. Her eyes turned black as she absorbed the mineral's essence.
"Because, Prokovitch the Stonecutter said that someday, you will be my dearest treasure – more precious than malachite to the Copper Kingdom. And I always liked pretty girls – I am ugly, dearest Azovka! I need a polished best friend to harp up my strengths when it comes time for us to wed some awful, belching husband. Ah, dedushka has his eyes on the Landlord's son: stinky, ugly Mikha. Blech!"
We skipped around her lizards, hand in hand, then fell down into the snow, laughing, and made green angels out of the cloudy powder. It cushioned our fur jackets. Azovka stuck out her tongue. "Not the pimply, doughy landlord's son. I think you'd do well with a stonecutter like old Prokovitch."
"Hey!" I smiled, pulling at her embroidered mittens. "He is 53!"
"A joke," Azovka said, her peacock eyes brimming with mirth. "Promise me you will never leave me for a boy, Yekaterina."
"I do."
We swore on Mother Mokosh, the earth goddess', skin, swallowing and spitting out some red clay, crossing our arms, and throwing her lizards into the air.
"May I have some food?" a willowy voice came. Azovka and I froze, caught in the act of sisterhood. It was a tall, gaunt boy, with a mop of dusty blonde hair – a beggar in tattered clothes. But he had soft blue eyes, and he reminded me of Ivan Tsarevich chasing a Firebird.
My heart dropped. He was the most beautiful creature, save Azovka, I had ever seen. "Sure," I said, offering the beggar the rest of my rye and borscht.
Azovka smiled. "What is your name, stranger? I am princess of this town. Someday, I will become Queen of the Copper Mountain."
The beggar hungrily tore into the bread. "That's nice I guess."
Azovka folded in on herself, blushing.
I tapped the boy gently on his elbow. "You should bow down, fool."
"I am older than you. You look like childish maidens. I'm eighteen. Girls are the foolish ones."
"You don't look old," I said.
"Whatever," Azovka sighed. She made the lizards crawl up his legs. The boy just smiled and kissed one. "Weirdo," Azovka replied.
"What's your name, beggar?" I asked. I wanted to clip this stranger's wings and keep him. Fatten him up with my blinis. Make him pierogis and borscht. Ask him to stay. Just like I had Azovka. They were both horribly broken. I wanted to fix them.
All I could do, though, was ask the wanderer's name.
"Danilo," he said. "Someday, I will be famous."
Azovka smiled. "For what? Begging? I am already famous."
"Spoiled, maybe," Danilo said obtusely. "Look at the malachite on you."
"I am the princess, I told you!"
He winked. "Titles don't churn butter." Danilo toyed with a lizard. "Things are changing beyond the Malachite Walls. Rasputin rides. I fled St. Petersburg to find a better life – rode the rails to here, last stop past Yekaterinburg. Outside the Malachite Walls, beyond the reach of the Copper Guard – no one even dares think what kind of magick lives in the Copper Kingdom, with the Copper Men. May I meet you two here for lunch tomorrow?"
Azovka and I shared a look and smiled. "Sure," we said in unison.
He smiled back, a bright wound of red.
"Ask Prokovitch on Georgin Street for a place to stay. He's in need of a shepherd. You look fit for that, beggar boy," I said with all the love a seventeen-year-old girl could tease the object of her desires with. I liked the dirt on Danilo. I liked his dreaminess and odd charm.
Azovka just stared at her lizards. I liked that about her too.
And thus began the winter of our lives.
Three fated lovers: a shieldmaiden, a Troll Queen, and a Valkyrie. One price: the fate of all Midgard. Turiel is crown princess, but from the outlawed Northern Holds, bloodbound to Troll Queen Jarngrimr, and best friends with the stablelass Yolanda, her first love - until her poison kiss turned Yola into a Valkyrie, and whisks Yolanda from Turiel's grasp. Now, Turiel has been stolen into wily Queen Jarngrimr's realm, with only the goddess Skadhi and Yola - back from the dead! - to guide her. Lussi, the Snow King, craves a bride - and it is Dia's troth alone. Dia, the last blood mage from the line of the Isa, is all that is left of Turiel's legacy. Dia has been raised as Lussi's Magdalene - his ritual Bride - and ritual Slayer - for the past three years. Every Winter Solstice, Lussi can die, and Dia must kill him. But as Dia falls deeper into Lussi's sexy web - and in love - her heart is on the line! Other works and Ko-Fi: linktr.ee/avnelson
Death has a mate - a teenage girl, the Grim Reaper's Bride. All Callie has known is that someone watches her in the woods - Samael, the Grim Reaper. Drawn into his intoxicating web of desires, secrets, and shadows, and hating him with a burning passion - can these two unlikely heroes stop the Apocalypse? Or will Samael start it for love?
The Frost Demon Morozko, Prince of Russia's immortal land of Buyan, has waited ages for a mate. And she is Stravinksy's fabled Firebird - incarnated as an orphaned witch! Cast out by the King of the Ice Kingdom, Morozko wanders Buyan, a Miyazaki haven for cherti, nechist, and witches - but a dark curse plagues the land - Koschei the Deathless. Can this bastard prince and the young human girl Anya that conniving Baba Yaga gave Morozko to raise with his found family of cutthroat spirits stand a chance against the immortal sorcerer King Kaschei, who has trapped Anya's soul in the Deathless realms, in gardens of dead wives? Anya is burgeoning with power, living a double life between Cold War Russia and D.C., and coming into her own as a witch to rival Baba Yaga. When her newfound love for Morozko is at stake, she will risk it all to follow the darkly tempting Kaschei to the Deathless lands, face the travails that put all Russia in peril - and save Morozko, as much as he saves her. With epic love, sorcery, adventure, treachery, a Slavic inn for spirits, and plenty of blini warm by the fire, come read this daring journey, and find out if an immortal love can withstand death Himself!
Mom, Dad, Help! - I'm Mated to the Alien Alpha! Ziggi Moondust Collins is a manic pixie dream girl that went on a bender and never recovered. At least, that's what her bandmates think. Pink-haired with a moonbow on her butt, Ziggi is your average punk barista searching for meaning in suburbia. Too bad her artistic roommate Cyrus. He's experimenting on her, manipulating Ziggi's genome in order to accelerate humanity's evolutionary conga line. Oh yeah, and he's been at it for centuries, meddling with human biology so long the Sumerians started a religion after him. At least he makes a mean fettucine alfredo? After a concert goes sour, Ziggi and Cyrus blast off into space in Cyrus' VW Beetle when Ziggi tries to turn off the radio. Stranded on a spaceship suited for amphibians, not punks, Ziggi learns that her new tenant Cyrus, real name Lahmu, isn't remotely human! Gone are Lahmu's good looks, replaced by beautiful tentacles - he looks like a sexy sewer mutant! Lahmu is the heir to the Milky Way's dysfunctional overlords, the Anunnaki: shapeshifters who feed off information. In order to sexually mature, Lahmu has to shepherd humanity into his parent's galactic dictatorship via good old genetic manipulation - and taking Ziggi to bed! Galactic pirates, space rock bands, and tons of hot and heavy tension between an Alien Alpha and his Chosen Mate abound!
He tipped his baseball cap. The stranger's grin revealed bits of crumbs. "And you are...?" I noticed the checkered scarf around his neck. "Hermes." "The brand?" "The man." He sent dancing fingers through the air in a snazzy salute. "G'morning, sweetheart. Loved the sandwich." "Apparently," I mumbled. "So, how did you get in? The doors are locked, and I didn't hear any breaking glass." I looked him up and down. "Get lost on the way to a toga party?" Maybe he was a crazy frat bro. "My life's a party - I bring it with me, or steal Dionysus' thunder." He sipped from a chipped coffee mug, then ah'ed appreciatively. "By Jove's hairy derriere, what a drink. Wine pales in comparison. To the gods of old, and young days long since gone." He wandered into my dining room. "We don't love them til they're gone." My eyes convulsed. "Sorry, but who did you say you were?" I looked at his hands. They were tapered like the fingers of an artist who smuggled on the side. His eyes bespoke whimsy. Looking at this stranger was, in fact, like taking the first, dangerous bite of a melty grilled cheese. "Hermes: the man, not the scarf," ___ My George Foreman grilled cheese was so unholily good, it summoned the Greek God Hermes! Now, I'm on an epic quest to save my father Prometheus from the clutches of Zeus, and restore Hestia's temple flame to Olympus with the fabled Prometheion flower my beloved father Prometheus spent his life hiding. But with the Titans plotting, Cronus rising, and Zeus as dastardly and cunning as ever, all enemies to Hermes and I, can the sexy Messenger God and I make it through, or will I become the ultimate Human Sacrifice?
Maria took her sister’s place and was engaged to Anthony, a disabled man who had lost his status as the family heir. At first, they were just a nominal couple. However, things changed when things about Maria were gradually exposed. It turned out she was a professional hacker, a mysterious composer, and the sole successor to an international jade sculpting master… The more that was revealed about her, the less Anthony could rest easy. A famous singer, an award-winning actor, an heir of a rich family—so many excellent men were chasing after his fiancee, Maria. What should Anthony do?
Janet was adopted when she was a kid -- a dream come true for orphans. However, her life was anything but happy. Her adoptive mother taunted and bullied her all her life. Janet got the love and affection of a parent from the old maid who raised her. Unfortunately, the old woman fell ill, and Janet had to marry a worthless man in place of her parents' biological daughter to meet the maid's medical expenses. Could this be a Cinderella's tale? But the man was far from a prince, except for his handsome appearance. Ethan was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family who lived a reckless life and barely made ends meet. He got married to fulfill his mother's last wish. However, on his wedding night, he had an inkling that his wife was different from what he had heard about her. Fate had united the two people with deep secrets. Was Ethan truly the man we thought he was? Surprisingly, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the impenetrable wealthiest man in the city. Would he find out that Janet married him in place of her sister? Would their marriage be a romantic tale or an utter disaster? Read on to unravel Janet and Ethan's journey.
Kara Martin was known as Miss Perfect. She was a beauty with good personality and successful career. Unfortunately, her life changed at one night. She was accused of adultery, losing her job, and abandoned by her fiance. The arrogant man who slept with her did not want to take responsibility. He even threatened to kill her if they met again. What's worse, Kara was pregnant with twins and she chose to give birth to them. Four and a half years later, Kara returned to work at a large company. As the secretary, she would frequently face their notorious CEO. Kara thought it wouldn't be a problem, but as it turned out ... the CEO was the father of the twins!
She thought she was the love of his life, and he became the love of her life that fateful day she had seen him at the pack's party. Selene Grace was only a replica of Alpha Leo's real mate, and when he spotted her, Leo immediately claimed her as his Luna in order to suppress the rumors of him being mateless. Being unable to conceive turns Selene's marriage into a nightmare, and as if that wasn't enough, Alpha Leo finally reunites with his long time lover and mate, rejecting a pregnant Selene as a result. 5 years later, Selene, a now successful doctor, receives an invitation to the moon shadow pack in order to rid the pack of a deadly disease which has struck it. Will Selene return back to the pack which had caused her so much pain, and what would she do when she realizes that she is mated to the Alpha who had betrayed her in the past?
Lucia Balstone thought she had chosen the right man to spend the rest of her life with, but he was the one who ended her life. Their ten-year marriage seemed like a joke when her husband stabbed her with a dagger. Fortunately, God is never blind to people's tears. Lucia got a second chance. She was reborn at the age of 22, before all the terrible things had happened. This time, she was determined to avenge herself and let those who hurt her pay! She made an elaborate list of her goals, and the first thing on her list was to marry her ex-husband's enemy, Alonso Callen!
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.