When it comes to urban fantasy, Dianna Love
is a master.
Tristan’s Escape (novella) falls in the timeline between WITCHLOCK and ROGUE BELADOR.
Holidays rate just above Tristan having his fingernails ripped off.
He was a fool once over a woman, a human no less, and that little moment of insanity got him imprisoned for four long years. He’s never had someone special to share holidays with and doubts he ever will, but December does matter to the other half-blood-Belador Alterants stuck alongside him on Treoir Island. To help his friends, Tristan has been secretly teleporting them to Atlanta for short visits. Sure, the Belador goddess warned him not to teleport in and out of Treoir’s hidden realm without her permission, but she ranks below holidays for Tristan. Screw her. His secret trips are going great until Elaine “Mac” Mackenzie, the five-foot-six, red-haired genius Tristan vowed to pay back for the four years he lost, steps between Tristan and a powerful sorcerer with a deadly agenda. If Tristan exposes his preternatural abilities in the human world, he’ll forfeit his freedom forever.
Saving her may destroy his world, but once he has Mac back in his arms, no one else is going to touch her.
“I am always amazed how Dianna Love continues to give us wonderful tense action packed stories. In Tristan’s Escape, Dianna outdoes herself by giving us such a great story in a short format.” ~~ The Reading Cafe
*This book available in print from all Amazon sites.
Swooping into an approach pattern over Treoir Island, Tristan spread his gryphon wings for descent before he ran out of power and crashed.
He’d flown two double shifts of surveillance flights in the past two days. Exhaustion pushed him to hurry up and get done, but rushing could be hazardous. He’d prefer a nice, smooth landing to slamming into the angry waves dousing boulders below the bluffs. Sunlight faded as the only sign of a day ending. A mist over the Irish Sea hid this realm from the other worlds.
Visitors were not welcome.
The goddess Macha ruled this domain that was inhabited by her warrior queen and Treoir castle minions.
Plus eight unhappy gryphons.
Including the one now in human form, waiting at Tristan’s private landing spot. Just seeing him there was a bad sign.
What was up with Bernie?
That skinny guy could shift whenever he wanted in this place. When he did, he turned into a badass, silver-gray gryphon that rose ten feet in height. On the other hand, Bernie was on the weak side as a human and panicked easily.
Like now. He was wringing his hands.
He wouldn’t be here about a rift among the gryphons.
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