He has one last chance to be a fairy tale hero.
But she didn’t agree to be the damsel in distress.
When her longtime boyfriend unexpectedly slides a ring on her finger, Hannah is whisked from her everyday bedroom to a medieval ball. Hannah knew that Dylan would do anything to prove to her parents that he’s husband material, including going into the Fae world—but she never agreed to go through the Veil herself.
Now one of three princess sisters, Hannah is paired with now-Prince Dylan. But, homesick and blindsided, she pretends the Veil has wiped him from her memory.
As her prince scrambles in vain to be the right kind of hero, Hannah ignores her instincts and follows her new sisters onto a mysterious boat—which promptly sails them into a land of giants, magical traps, and enchanted pianos…and away from Dylan.
Read now to journey back to medieval Ireland, complete with the Fae and mythological monsters, in this fairy tale adventure and sweet "it was always you" romance.
Excerpt
Piano:
As soon as she turns away, Nuala makes a face at Mór, who rolls her eyes. It is such a sisterly thing, like I used to imagine with my dolls.
It hits me then. This is more than a history lesson put on for tourists. Their banter feels very real—two sisters and a long-standing argument…About whether the Protestant Reformation happened.
Because it hasn’t yet. Because I’m in an Irish castle in 1536. There is no audience, no tourists, no wires camouflaged against the wall to power security cameras and an automatic sprinkler system.
There is a piano, though.
How did that get here? Maybe I noticed it wrong, because pianos aren’t even invented yet. Maybe it’s…an organ. Or a black shiny swoop-shaped cabinet.
It might be rude, but I need to walk over for a closer look. It’s not a piano, it can’t be—but if it was, everything would be better. If there is a piano here, I could belong. I could make it through the evening—or however long I’m stuck here.
I duck and weave through the people gathered around the king and his family. It is! The piano is a little off to the side, and once I reach it, I finally take a real breath. I open the fallboard, and the familiar pattern of black and white soothes me. I adjust the bench, shaking back yards and yards of linen so my feet can emerge for the pedals.
I’m not thinking, and …when my mind stops working, my hands and heart know what to do.
I go straight into a Schubert impromptu, the notes rippling out. I take it a little too fast, my whole attention pulled in as the patterns whirl under my fingers, putting more dramatic ritardando into the cadences than my professor likes. I can sense the group turning to me, their collective pleasure, and the melody sings even more powerfully under my flying fingers.
My left hand fourth finger sparkles. Dylan’s ring. I will examine that later, but for right now, I just play.
Pick up your copy of
The Boat on the Lake of Regret
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See you on your next coffee break!
Take Care,
Mary Anne xxx