I finally did it! It’s been nine years, three months, and ten days since I wrote the first word of The Great Dagmaru series. Nine years, three months, and ten days since I met the characters, and I’ve lived with them ever since. And tomorrow, February 11th, 2021, I release them finally and completely into the world.

When I finished writing the first two books, I went into a deep depression for about two weeks. It was a book hangover on steroids. But I began Book 3, The Magician’s Soul not too long after, and I found I was okay. This time? Now that the series is complete? I’m still waiting for it to hit me. I can always write a spin-off series, right? Yeah, maybe. Maybe not.

It’s been a trip, living with Stephen and Herman and all their family members and friends swimming around in my head. Whether I continue to write them or not, they’ll be with me always.

To celebrate the release of The Magician’s Soul tomorrow, the first two books in the series are on sale.

You can get The Magician’s Curse on sale for 99 cents at Amazon US here, and everywhere else (Amazon worldwide and Kobo, Apple, and Nook) here. I’ll post the Prologue of The Magician’s Curse below, in case you’re new to the series. It won an award and everything!

(Note that all of the Amazon US links in this post are affiliate links, which means I get a few cents commission if you buy the book after clicking the link. I’m bound by Amazon’s Terms and Conditions to tell you this.)

 

 

You can pick up The Magician’s Blood, Book 2 of the series for the special price of $2.99 at Amazon US here, and everywhere else (Amazon worldwide and Kobo, Apple, and Nook) here. I won’t post an excerpt of this book for the sake of those who haven’t read the first one (spoilers!!). But you can find the first few chapters at each of the retailers preview links, I believe.

 

 

 

The Magician’s Soul is the longest book of the series at 101,000 words, or about 375 paperback pages. (Book 1 is 67K, and Book 2 is 97K.) The characters made me laugh, they made me cry, some of them even made me angry. But there’s a whole lot of love in this book. A whole lot of love went into it, too. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it. You can get it at Amazon US here, and everywhere else (Amazon worldwide and Kobo, Apple, and Nook) here.

 

 

And finally, the Prequel novella, The Magician’s Sire, which is always free when you subscribe to my newsletter. You can grab it and unsubscribe right away. No harm, no foul. Here‘s the link to subscribe.

 

 

 

Thanks for coming on this journey with me. Through all the layers of my life, so have followed the layers of the Dagmar and Anderson families in these pages. If this series taught me anything, it’s that you can’t choose your family or all the intricacies that go with each facet of it. And sometimes, that’s perfectly okay.

And now for the Prologue of The Magician’s Curse!

       Tarmien Dagmar couldn’t sleep. The clock taunted him as it had for months, even before his first child was born.

At least Stella can rest, he thought, listening to the soft snores of his wife drift through the dark from the other side of their king-sized bed. Breastfeeding was taking its toll, but the mere mention of hiring a nanny or allowing the servants to help with diaper changes was met with a firm “no.”

Murmuring something incoherent, she rolled over to face him and his blood heated at the fleeting thought of impregnating her again. It was what he was made for, after all. The blood that coursed through his veins, handed down for centuries from father to son, contained that of a demon. An incubus. A creature whose sole purpose was to seduce women and to create offspring.

Tarmien was coaxed from his thoughts by the subtle but distinctive sound of a waking infant. He gently eased himself out of bed so as not to wake his wife and crossed the hall quickly.

“It’s okay, Stephen,” he whispered as he closed the door of the nursery behind him. “Daddy’s here.”

He reached into the crib and picked up the restless newborn who settled the moment he was cradled in his father’s arms.

What have I done? Tarmien asked himself for the thousandth time since the baby was born.

Apart from the insatiable desire to procreate, Tarmien hadn’t shown any of the demonic tendencies to which his father had confessed on his deathbed, just months ago. He hoped he could spare his son the knowledge of that horrible confession. At least the curse that tied the Dagmar family to their servants, the Currys, was a burden Tarmien could bear himself; he was determined this child would never have to carry out its twisted conditions.

As he lifted his precious son to kiss his fine, black hair and breathe in his potent baby scent, he prayed that the family’s demonic bloodline had run out, once and for all. Only time would tell.