In a city where nothing is unexpected, one meeting changes their lives forever.
A Shifter, A Vampire, and a Fae Walk Into A Bar
Humor has always found its way into my books, but with the series Rab Renroc, my characters didn’t seem to want to take themselves seriously. And the series name is right where that starts. You’re probably wondering what Rab Renroc is, right?
Everyone knows their corner bar. It’s where everyone meets. Well, at Rab Renroc things happen a bit strangely. Maybe it’s the intuitive barkeep who instinctively knows when a customer’s other-half is nearby and is known for shooting arrows when they least expect it. Maybe it’s the fact it’s frequented by the paranormal set. Maybe it’s the fact humans stumble into the bar never having seen it before and yet it’s there when they most need it. Or maybe it’s just the fact that Rab Renroc is Corner Bar spelled backward.
Whatever the reason, this corner bar has a 100% chance of finding their customer’s other half. Don’t blame them if your soul mate is a blood-thirsty vampire or flesh-eating zombie. It’s not their fault.
Rab Renroc: Where Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance meet Humor dead on.
The hardest thing for me was deciding what author pseudonym to put on this book. The second book in the series, which is coming out next fall, ~ Of WereRhinos, Vampires, and Flaming Arrows ~ clearly falls under Thianna D. as it’s hot as well as PNR. However, this one straddled a line between Thianna D and Cynthia Kimball because while it is PNR, it’s also humorous and while the sexual tension is there, the real heat happens after the book ends.
I hope you’ll give this new twist a try. It’s fun, it’s quirky, and I hope you love the men, women, and creatures of Rab Renroc.
In a city where nothing is unexpected, one meeting changes their lives forever.
Jillian Michaels has had some strange things happen in her life. She’s met angels and demons, fought zombies and battled Elvis’s ghost. But nothing prepares her for running into three strange men one night. She’s the only one who can see or hear them and they won’t let her out of their sight.
For 157 years, Mavik has been stuck in between due to a curse and has been looking for someone to break him out. The only problem is the witch he’s found does not want to release him from his spell. Not ready to give up, he and his companions, Casper and Brinnian, stick to Jillian like glue.
When she tries to help them, things go from bad to worse when the council over psychic and paranormal phenomena take a stance and send Mavik to another realm and her in between with Casper and Brinnian. Time is running out for Mavik and unwittingly Jillian makes a deal with a demon for his release.
With a vengeful council on their tails and love brewing between human and shifter, who knew a deal with a demon would be the least of their worries?
She should have known not to enter that pub on a Thursday. It was never a good idea to do anything on a Thursday. At least not for Jillian Michaels. Her grandmother told her once that all spirit workers had one day of the week or month that they were particularly attuned to. For her, that meant she saw her first spirit on a Thursday. Jillian also had her first encounter with a demon on a Thursday. And, as fate would have it, she got her period every month on a Thursday.
The fact was if she had been in a sane state of mind instead of having driven twenty hours straight to try and get away from the intense psychic hole that was New Orleans, she might have paid more attention to the fact there were still four more hours left in that particular Thursday and it would have been best to stay in her car until it was over. As it was she wandered inside at just after eight in the evening and sat down at a corner booth.
She had been to Vegas a time or two but usually skirted the city unless her presence was requested by the council. Somehow she’d ended up not only in the city, but just off the strip. “I need a full night’s rest.” She yawned as she looked at the little menu stuck between a salt shaker and a container of catsup.
“What can I get for ya?” asked a rotund woman with a harried expression. Jillian completely understood it. She’d just spent three days in New Orleans and felt like her brain had been wrung ragged what with all the spirits that called that place home.
“I’ll take a pint of your dark lager and I’ll have the chicken fingers and fries.”
“All right.” The waitress walked away and Jillian leaned back in her chair.
What she wanted to do was close her eyes and relax. But that was impossible anywhere but home. At home she had wards up that would protect her from all forms of psychic or paranormal attack. Anywhere else, she had to stay alert. And in Vegas, the spirit realm took on all sorts of appearances. Hell. Once she even saw Elvis. He was pissed at all the men and women who dressed up like him and threw a fit right in the middle of a casino. It took the whole council to contain him. She was one of the workers assigned to calm down the masses who “Saw Elvis alive and well.” It was a tiring five days.
Slowly she scanned the interior of the place. Most of the tables were taken by what looked like locals. Nobody in fancy clothes or who looked like they were out to impress. No. They wore jeans, T-shirts, and tennis shoes. Well. If the locals ate there, the food must be good, she surmised. Or maybe it was the cheap prices that brought them back.
Movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn slightly. Okay, so they weren’t all wearing local wear. Three men stood near the bar and they stuck out. One was dressed like a gunslinger from the 1800s, complete with six shooters and an ankle-length leather duster. Next to him stood a man who looked even more out of place. At just around six feet tall, he had slicked-back black hair, a face so white it was obvious he was wearing makeup, and he wore a black leather cape that came down to his ankles. He looked like a modern take on Dracula. The third man was almost a foot shorter than the other two. While he had on jeans and a button-down shirt, the style was wrong. His leather jacket and the cigarette sticking out the side of his mouth dated his clothing as 1960s. The green tint of his skin would have piqued her interest if it weren’t the fact that she felt no supernatural energy coming from them.
Those men did not belong. So why wasn’t anyone else watching them? Well, she supposed, as the waitress placed her lager and dinner in front of her, it was Vegas after all. The locals had probably seen just about everything.
The headache which started the day she arrived in New Orleans beat roughly against the back of her skull. As she sipped her beer and ate her food, she rubbed lightly over the spot. In just a few days she’d be home and she could take a psychic break. A soft sigh left her lips as she thought about it.
A frisson of energy wafted from the door of the pub and she swung around, recognizing it instantly as non-human. Standing just inside the door was a demon. At almost seven feet tall, he was humungous with yellowish skin covered in boils and two large horns on the top of his head. Great. Just great. Those suckers loved Vegas as they could cause mayhem and it was put down to drunk tourists.
Humans as a rule could not see the other world. They knew of its existence, but most of them acted as though it didn’t. If I can’t see you, you don’t exist. And the humans in the diner were no different, going on and eating their suppers and drinking their beer as if a dangerous creature wasn’t stomping through the place. At any moment it would upend a table and the problems would start.
She reached for her weapon and swore under her breath. So exhausted and run down, she had not even thought about anything but getting some food as she got out of her car. It was still sitting on the passenger seat. Way to go, Jilly.
Well she couldn’t just leave the creature to destroy the place. Her hand went to her pocket to remove her phone so she could call for help from the council when something so strange happened that she froze in place. The three strangely-dressed men turned as one to look at the demon. And the demon looked back. Demons never looked at a human directly but it was definitely looking at them. Its attention was so fixed that it even stopped walking.
“Be gone,” said the gunslinger, in a form of English that sounded strange to her ears. “Your kind isn’t welcome here.”
A low growl came from the demon which didn’t surprise her. They weren’t known for taking orders.
“He said to leave,” the vampiric man said in a cultured voice that rumbled through the room. “If you do not, you know what will happen.”
The demon took a step forward and Jillian winced as she knew with his next step he would knock over the table in front of him and send the diners there flying in all directions. But he did not take another step. Instead he froze there and roared, the walls of the pub shaking and the sound of several items dropping back in the kitchen.
“Damned earthquake,” someone said.
She slowly rose to her feet, her phone in hand, when the short man held out his hand, palm out. The sigil drawn on it made her gasp. Fae or warlock. Her sharp intake of breath drew the attention of all three men and no sooner had they turned in her direction than so did the demon.
Book Page: http://mf.thiannad.com/rab-renroc/walk-into-a-bar
A Thia Thing: http://store.athiathing.com/product/rab-renroc-1/
Smashwords : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/707645
Thianna D. is a writer by day and supernova by night. Or at least that’s what the faeries tell her. And who is she to deny those pesky *cough* lovely little creatures?
She lives in the Pacific Northwest, though her heart belongs elsewhere. In the meantime, until she can return to the place she calls home, she happily lives in a city that still thinks it’s a small town. Thankfully, it has given her muse lots of amusing places to start a story.