Title: The Raven Prince and Other Stories
Author: Jean-Paul Whitehall
Publisher: NineStar Press (SunFire Imprint)
Release Date: December 18, 2017
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male, Female/Female
Length: 54700
Genre: historical, paranormal, contemporary, LGBT, YA, fantasy, coming out, kidnapping, sports, family, shifter, gay, lesbian, romance
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Synopsis
Our Lady of the Axe: In a Regency
England where magic used to be real, Eleanor, her dear friend Diana, and three
young girls are kidnapped. It will take all of Eleanor’s strength and courage,
plus a magical axe and cleavage (not that kind) to set them free, and foil the
man behind the kidnapping.
Edging: Will a mistake about meaning
make a mess for Tommy and Vince? Or maybe lead to something more?
The Plan That Didn’t Gang Aft Agley:
Jack’s plans have a tendency to go way agley. He hopes his special plan for
Billy at football practice is the one that won’t.
Family Be Damned: Look for the two Br’er
Rabbit moments. One: She wasn’t unhappy Tommy got paid to take her to the
eighth grade dance. She even slipped him $25 to agree. Two: Her mom made her
older brother take her to the dance. The $50 she paid him was just a sisterly
bonus.
The Raven Prince: Sixteen-year-old Mike
hopes he can blend in at his new school. Except he’s short, slender,
goth-looking with the shiny black hair, black eyes and thick lashes, wears an
elegant suit and tie, and drives a Mercedes convertible. He’s also gay, a raven
shifter in a human school and eventually he has to be the Raven Prince.
Standing up to the bullies who rule the
school—Preacher’s Son, Banker’s Son, Sheriff’s Son, Principal’s Daughter—isn’t
blending in. When the Four can’t get to Mike, they go after him through his
best friend, Johnny, the devoutly straight wrestling star who doesn’t care
about the gay thing.
If Johnny is hurt, will it take the
Raven Prince to get justice? Raven justice?
100% of the author’s royalties will be
donated to a local LGBT youth organization.
Excerpt
The Raven Prince and Other Stories
Jean-Paul Whitehall © 2017
All Rights Reserved
Our Lady of the Axe
Saturday, 19 May 1804
Cavendish House
London
I looked up at the painting in pride of
place. It is not a large painting, no more than two feet wide and not quite
three tall. The frame is plain wood, as if the artist did not want to draw
undue attention to what it surrounded. The colors are muted, age-dimmed, the
oils dried with fine cracks marring the clarity of the woman who is the reason
for the artist’s work. The lady. She wears ragged furs, but you know they’re
not poverty-forced—they’re what a warrior wears. She stares off to the viewer’s
left, her eyes intent on whatever it is we cannot see. A single thin braid
frames each side of her face, and smears of dark paint make a half moon around
each eye, a slashing line along her cheeks, a vertical one on her chin. If
anyone ever knew what the paint symbolizes, if anything at all, the knowledge
is long gone.
In her hands she clasps a two-headed
axe. Something about the handle makes it appear it was designed for her and no
other. The blades are long arcs, and you can tell when the painting was new
they would have been shining with the bright silver glow of magicked steel.
I didn’t understand why it was hung
above the large fireplace in the parlor where, even at such a young age, I knew
our guests were always welcomed, and it was an important part of the wonderful
parties Papa and Mama gave. It looked quite small in a space large enough to
hold a full-length painting of Grandpapa, even one with a wide, ornate, gilded
frame.
Paintings like the ones I saw in the
homes of my friends when I went to visit. No one else had a painting like that.
So, since Papa was in his chair and his
neatly folded and carefully ironed copy of the Times was still on his lap, I
asked him.
He lifted the newspaper, unfolded it,
snapped it open to its full width and height, and raised it before his face.
This was his signal he was not to be bothered further. But still, his “Earl of
Cavendish, do not disturb your father, child” voice drifted over and down,
instructing me to speak to my mama.
When I inquired, in my best,
eight-year-old “I don’t wish to be a bother, Mama, but I would truly like to
know” voice, Mama’s reply was odd. “It always is, my dear. And one day, when
you are married, it will be yours, and it will hang in the same place in your
new home.”
I kept my lips clamped tight around
several opinions. One being the painting was dumb and old and faded and not at
all impressive. The other being, when I married ten-year-old William, heir to
Viscount Delacourt, in our home we’d have a grand and glorious and gold-framed
painting of his wonderful father above the mantel. Or maybe even one of Papa.
If asked immediately after those
thoughts, or any time later, I would swear a solemn oath I felt a sharp,
twisty, hurting pinch on my bum and heard the words “Don’t be impertinent,
little girl.” But Mama’s lips were closed and smiling, her face remembering
something pleasant, and there was no one else in the room.
I kept my imaginings to myself, and
carefully rubbed my bottom so Mama did not notice. The right part. Where the
imaginary pinch didn’t happen.
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Meet the Author
Jean-Paul is, as they say, older than dirt. The stories in The Raven Prince collection are the first YA he’s written, although he’s been reading YA since before it was well-known genre. He’s been a Tamora Pierce addict pretty much as long as she’s been writing. He has some YA stories in progress, like “Prospero’s Zipper” and “The Day After” but has no idea when another collection might be ready. He lives in the Midwest with two elderly rescue dogs—the Peke (Max), and Australian Shepherd mix (Lucky Dog)—and the recent addition of a younger Rottweiler mix (Rocky).Giveaway
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