Honey
Queen by Christina Mercer
Young Adult Fantasy
Love
is honey sweet, but it comes with a fatal sting . . .
Melaina Maris needs wings to fly the gap between loving Sam and her family’s ancient curse that forces carnal love and then kills the male lovers. She won’t let the same fate that killed her father befall another. She refuses to allow her goddess-created bloodline to continue. But there’s no easy way out, especially after the curse turns her into the Honey Queen—savior to honey bees—intensifying her charms.
To help her fulfill the curse’s demands in the least harmful way, her grandmother takes her to mate with terminally ill Boyd. But Boyd’s gay. And an expert in mythology. Instead of having sex, Melaina learns how she might summon the goddess who created the first ancestor bee-charmer and cursed her bloodline. Melaina's magic—tears to save honey bees from endangerment—could be enough to persuade the goddess to end the curse. But an unexpected discovery soon changes that hope, spinning Melaina into a swarm of love, friendship and death.
Melaina Maris needs wings to fly the gap between loving Sam and her family’s ancient curse that forces carnal love and then kills the male lovers. She won’t let the same fate that killed her father befall another. She refuses to allow her goddess-created bloodline to continue. But there’s no easy way out, especially after the curse turns her into the Honey Queen—savior to honey bees—intensifying her charms.
To help her fulfill the curse’s demands in the least harmful way, her grandmother takes her to mate with terminally ill Boyd. But Boyd’s gay. And an expert in mythology. Instead of having sex, Melaina learns how she might summon the goddess who created the first ancestor bee-charmer and cursed her bloodline. Melaina's magic—tears to save honey bees from endangerment—could be enough to persuade the goddess to end the curse. But an unexpected discovery soon changes that hope, spinning Melaina into a swarm of love, friendship and death.
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About Christina
Mercer
Christina Mercer is an award-winning author of fiction for
children and young adults. She took Writer’s Best in Show at the
2012 SCBWI CA North/Central Regional Conference, was a Semi-Finalist
in the 2010 Amazon Breakout Novel Award Contest, and won Honorable
Mention in the 21st Annual Writer's Digest Self Published Book
Awards. She holds a degree in Accounting from California State
University at Sacramento and a Certificate in Herbal Studies from
Clayton College of Natural Health. Christina resides in Northern
California enjoying life with her husband, two sons, four dogs, and
about 100,000 honeybees.
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EXCERPT
1:
Nettles
stung Lia’s flesh. She pressed her fingers against her mouth for
relief. This
is what I get for letting my thoughts wander. Grandma
wouldn’t have been so careless while harvesting sting-leaf. She
wouldn’t have let the villagers’ opinions prick at her mind, no
matter how many called her mad for crafting remedies in the old
ways.
Koun
whined and nudged Lia’s arm with his nose.
“I’m
all right, boy.” Lia gazed into her hound’s violet eyes and then
turned her attention to the friendlier mallow plant. Its white
flowers matched Koun’s coat and its leaves and roots promised a
soothing balm for the nettle’s bite. She’d make another batch of
salve for Da, too. He swore her “potions” kept his hands fit
enough for hewing wood and soft enough for holding Ma. Her ma could
use a bit more mallow infusion for her soaps, as well, and she’d
take a bundle of clippings to Granda—
Her
thoughts scattered as Koun shot from the garden. Lia whirled around
to the pair of horses charging up the path. She squinted in the dusky
light and recognized Da’s friend, Kenneth, on one of the horses.
Then her insides went cold. Across the other horse’s back lay Da’s
limp body.
She
dropped the harvested mallow and sped from her garden toward them.
Ma’s scream shot like a bolt through her, but Kenneth’s words,
“He’s alive,” offered Lia a morsel of hope.
Kenneth
carried Da into the cottage, and Lia caught a glimpse of her father’s
torn and bloodied clothing. “I’ll fetch Granda,” she cried, and
hurried to her filly.
Clad
in her usual boy’s breeches and high leather boots, Lia raced her
horse down the path with her heart pounding in rhythm to the hoof
beats.
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