"Bad Spelling," the first book in the Witches of Galdorheim series.
That's exciting for me, of course, but I hope you'll get a little excited about buying and reading Bad Spelling.
For the first time (correct me if I'm wrong anybody), MuseItUp is offering a free short story with the purchase of Bad Spelling. Here's how that happened.
While dallying with ideas for another book in the series, it occurred to me that everybody's favorite boy vampire, Rune, didn't start out as Mr. Perfect. He had a learning curve to master his own magic (at which his sister is a miserable failure). I thought a prequel to Bad Spelling would be fun. Fill in a little of Rune's background. From these thoughts, I came up with the short story, "Spellslinger."
I sent it off to the publisher. MuseItUp offers short stories, but Spellslinger was so entwined with the Witches of Galdorheim books, that we decided to offer it as a bonus to readers who bought "Bad Spelling" from the MuseItUp Bookstore. That's the only place you'll be able to get the story (unless, of course, I decide to offer it as a freebie during the BAD Spelling Book Tour).
So there's an incentive to purchase Bad Spelling. It's part of the first two-fer deal from MuseItUp. I hope everybody who buys the book will enjoy the short story.
I want you to get to know and love the half-vamp/half-warlock rascal as he travels with his magic-challenged sister on her journey. She couldn't have done it without him.
Here's the first two paragraphs of Spellslinger to entice you. Buy the book, get the free short story, and enjoy.
Rune stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and stomped down the street, his shoulders hunched. A clump of dandelions hugging the white picket fence leapt out at him, their squeaky little growls and slashing petals pulled a grin from the eleven-year-old warlock for a moment until he remembered he was in a bad mood.
He punted the attacking flowers with a transforming spell turning them into a tumbleweed rolling along the street. Rune sprinted after and gave it a kick with a Beckham bend. The shrub careened out of control over a picket fence and into a yard. Lilac, a witch who lived in the cottage, stepped out on her porch. “Rune, get that thing out of my garden!”