Part sun fae, part blood fae, all abomination.
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About the Book
Bad Girls Drink Blood
by S.L. Choi
Publishing 17 May 2022
City Owl Press
Genre: Fantasy
Page Count: 437
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Part sun fae, part blood fae, all abomination.
There is only one hybrid fae in existence, and that dishonor goes to Lane Callaghan.
After a life spent dodging slurs, threats, and assassination attempts, Lane gave her past the one finger salute and ditched her former fae home for good. The detective agency she and her sisters run on the edge of Las Vegas continues to limp along, with Lane doing more debt collecting and intimidating than investigating, but anything to pay the bills. Between working for low-lifes to bring down even lower-lifes, eating cheesy poofs by the bucket, and flirting with the criminally attractive bartender where she conducts business, life is good.
That ends when a routine job goes sideways, leaving Lane with a sack full of stolen sun shards—the source of sun fae power. Without the shards, the sun fae face giving up their magic completely, or risk death if they use their power. Considering they would rather see her dead, good riddance, as far as Lane’s concerned—except her father and adopted sister are sun fae. Lane must choose—return home to save the fae bastards that almost killed her, or let them burn.
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Excerpt
The salty, buttery scent of popcorn filled the house. My favorite soft blankets were piled on the plaid sofa I refused to part with. On the television screen, unnaturally beautiful men and women wearing barely there beach attire and drinking champagne were frozen mid-toast on some tropical beach. My sisters’ bantering voices floated in from the kitchen. Something tugged in my chest, and I blew out a shaky breath. Stars, I didn’t deserve them, and I’d spend every day making sure they never regretted following me from Ta’Vale.
I padded across the wooden floors to the river rock fireplace where the broken arm of the sundial hung above the mantle. My pulse thumped in the base of my throat. Iola said she carried me to my family. I’d never considered what my family suffered seeing me unconscious, impaled on a four-foot length of petrified wood.
Reaching up, I traced the bright red streaks of my lifeblood preserved beneath a thick layer of clear shellac. After the accident, I wouldn’t let them throw it away, and I wouldn’t let them clean it. Instead, I’d insisted on having resin laid over the evidence of my almost-death. Never forget.
They call me monster, but it’s monsters who haunt my nightmares, hands slamming into my back, the inexorable tilt over the side of the sun bridge, the moment of breathlessness when my feet still touched something solid as my body fought the inevitable grip of gravity. The screaming wind against my face, and the ground below rushing to greet me.
The microwave door banged. Seconds later came a curse, and I winced as a piece of our dishware shattered on the floor.
“Y’sindra! Those bowls are too big for you,” Mae screeched. “That’s two this week. I swear I’m replacing everything with plastic.”
“No, it’s not too big, the counter’s slippery.”
Their bickering voices overlapped one another, shoving the bitter memories to the back of my brain. I took a deep breath. It was good to be home.
About the Author
S.L. Choi is an urban fantasy author with a deep love for humor, fast-paced action, and hit-you-in-the-heart feels. She grew up imagining goblins living in the rocks outside her bedroom window, while fairies flew through the flowers. Now she puts those stories to paper. When not writing, she is either photographing the beautiful New England area, hiking, gaming with her equally nerdy husband, or attending to the small furry overlords who rule them both.
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