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?
Loraine was a dutiful wife to Marco since they got married three years ago. However, he treated her like trash. Nothing she did softened his heart. One day, Loraine got fed up with it all. She asked him for a divorce and left him to enjoy with his mistress. The elites looked at her like she was deranged. "Are you out of your mind? Why are you so willing to divorce him?" "It's because I need to return home to get a billion-dollar fortune. Besides, I don't love him anymore," Loraine replied with a smile. They all laughed at her. Some believed that the divorce affected her mentally. It wasn't until the next day that they realized she wasn't fibbing. A woman was suddenly declared the world's youngest female billionaire. It turned out to be Loraine! Marco was shocked to the bone. When he met his ex-wife again, she was a changed person. A group of handsome young men surrounded her. She was smiling at them all. The sight made Marco's heart ache severely. Putting his pride aside, he tried to win her back. "Hello, love. I see that you are a billionaire now. You shouldn't be with suckers who just want your money. How about you come back to me? I'm a billionaire too. Together, we can build a strong empire. What do you say?" Loraine squinted at her ex-husband with her lips curled in disgust.
What happens when a hook-up gets complicated by a baby? Can she hide the secret from him? Or will he show her how possessive he can be when he learns she's carrying his child? "Seven years ago, I had a one-night stand with my brother's best friend, who also happened to be my lifelong crush. The next day, he vanished leaving me pregnant. Now, I am a single mom raising our son in the same small town. Recently, he returned to attend my brother's wedding and the truth about our son was finally revealed. As he reclaims his place in our lives, the sparks between us reignite. However, danger from his past threatens to shatter our newfound connection. I am torn between my love for him and my fear of getting hurt again, especially now that I have two hearts to protect - our son's and my own."
It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience, but Carrie made the mistake of falling in love with Kristopher. When the time came that she needed him the most, her husband was in the company of another woman. Enough was enough. Carrie chose to divorce Kristopher and move on with her life. Only when she left did Kristopher realize how important she was to him. In the face of his ex-wife’s countless admirers, Kristopher offered her 20 million dollars and proposed a new deal. “Let’s get married again.”
Five years ago, Alessia La Rosa's life took a drastic turn when, suffering from memory loss, she wed to Dominic Carter under her grandfather's mysterious arrangement. But their marriage was a facade, bringing her only humiliation and heartache as Dominic showed no love, and she couldn't conceive. Upon discovering Dominic's infidelity, Alessia sought liberation through divorce. Yet, fate had more in store for her. Five years later, spurred by an anonymous email hinting at her lost child's whereabouts, she returns to the city with her twin babies in tow, determined to uncover the truth. As she navigates the tangled web of her past, a surprising twist awaits. Dominic, upon meeting her again, finds himself drawn to the woman she has become, unaware of her true identity as his former wife. Little does he know, the woman he's falling for is not only his ex-wife but also a powerful Doctor and Master Hacker.
Betrayed by her mate and sister on the eve of her wedding, Makenna was handed to the ruthless Lycan Princes as a lover, her indifferent father ignoring her plight. Determined to escape and seek revenge, she captured the interest of the three Lycan princes, who desired her exclusively amid many admirers. This complicated her plans, trapping her and making her a rival to the future Lycan queen. Entwined in jealousy and vindictiveness, could Makenna achieve her vengeance in the intricate dance with the three princes?
Charlee was left at the altar and became a laughingstock. She tried to keep her head high, but ultimately lost it when she received a sex tape of her fiance and her half-sister. Devastated, she ended up spending a wild night with a hot stranger. It was supposed to be one-time thing, but he kept popping up, helping her with projects and revenge, all while flirting with her constantly. Charlee soon realized that it was nice having him around, until her ex suddenly appeared at her door, begging for another chance. Her tycoon lover asked, “Who will you choose? Think carefully before you answer.”