Please join us in celebrating the release of the latest story in Hailey Edwards‘ Araneae Nation, fantasy romance series that both Alisha and Stella like a lot (to see what they thought of the first book check out their dual review). So read on to see what this new book is about and you could even win a Hailey Edwards book, so don’t forget to enter the giveaway at the end!
The strongest net is no match for destiny.
Book # 2.5 of the Araneae Nation series
Daraja has grown up watching her brothers journey down the river on the traditional Deinopidae rite of passage. Each returned with riches from their travels, and lovers with whom to share their lives.
Now she has reached the age where she would strike out on her own to seek her fortune—if she were male. Instead, she is expected to sit patiently, weave her nets and wait for the river to bring a husband to her.
Patience, however, has never been her strong suit.
Brynmor haunts the forest surrounding the city of Cathis, his disembodied spirit inextricably bound to the wild canis roaming his lands. Until the day he stumbles across a brazen trespasser in his woods.
Compelled to step in when the canis suspect her of poaching one of their own, Brynmor fears he has lost a piece of his ragged soul to the feisty, adventure-seeking female. And when the canis confront the real poachers, he is forced to choose which life to sacrifice. Hers…or his own.
Warning: This book contains one heroine with a knack for weaving nets and one hero who relishes getting caught. Expect singing, some howling, ghostly shenanigans, and the start of a love that transcends death.
Tipping his head back, Brynmor inhaled rapidly, filling his lungs with a sharp copper smell. Beneath that, he caught a faint whiff of pine and musk hard to distinguish from the other scents. He was a tracker by trade, all those of his line were, so he caught the scent trail and followed it to where he first heard Daraja sing. There they found a tent and the snuffed-out remains of a fire.
A crossed pair of hind legs extended past the neatly folded bedroll. Brynmor’s blood ran cold as he skimmed their length, his gaze snagging past the hocks, where the paws should be.
Fisting Errol’s scruff, Brynmor tugged to slow him down. “Wait here.”
“No.” Errol snapped at Brynmor’s hand, drawing blood on his knuckles. “You wait here if you like.”
He tightened his grip. “We don’t know for certain the female is traveling alone.”
“Then we find out.”
Brynmor’s hand slid down the length of Errol’s spine when the canis darted past him. He rounded the tent as Errol leapt the bedroll and approached the body. Lowering his head, Errol sniffed at the blood matting the fur until it became more rusted brown than gray.
“It can’t be.” Errol tossed his head. “I saw Scipio only hours ago.”
The kill was recent, but the familiar scent of death made Brynmor’s gorge rise. The corpse’s head and all four paws were missing, but a thin white ring around the right foreleg identified the mutilated canis. Brynmor swallowed past a tight throat. “Scipio is the only pack member with those markings.”
Errol choked on an anguished cry, and Brynmor collapsed as sorrow saturated their bond.
When Errol threw back his head and sang for their departed brother, the chorus was lifted by the voices of the pack. Howls pierced the night sky as canis rushed from their den to the clearing.
“She will pay for this,” Errol swore. “Tonight we will hunt the huntress.”
“We can’t be sure—” Brynmor began.
“—she won’t kill another of us?” Errol circled him. “You came to me as a spirit, as nothing. You asked that I use my body to give your soul shelter. I agreed. All I asked for in return was your vow that you would protect the pack as if they were your own, that you honor my rule and never endanger those under my protection. Yet here you are, eager to lead us to slaughter.”
“I have kept my word,” Brynmor grated past tight lips.
“But will you continue to do so?” Errol asked. “Something has changed. You are no longer the restless soul I offered asylum to. In the past few weeks, you have begun leaching my essence, using my life force to manifest in the flesh. I did not begrudge you this use of my strength. Your triumph was my own. I know how it pained you to be…insubstantial. But it worries me how fast you leapt to the defense of a female you met tonight, when we have been bonded for far longer.”
No ready excuse for his actions sprang to his lips. Through Errol, he all but lived once more.
He was a fool to risk that for anything. He was a fool to risk that for anyone.
Flicking his tail against Brynmor’s leg, Errol asked, “Where do your loyalties lie, brother?”
“With the pack,” Brynmor answered by rote.
Errol was right. They were his family now.
About the author:
Born in the Deep South, Hailey is a lifelong resident of Alabama. Her husband works for the local sheriff’s department and her daughter is counting down the days until she’s old enough to audition for American Idol. Her doxie, Black Ilex, helps Hailey write by snoozing in his recliner in her office.
Her desire to explore without leaving the comforts of home fueled her love of reading and writing. Whenever the itch for adventure strikes, Hailey can be found with her nose glued to her Kindle’s screen or squinting at her monitor as she writes her next happily-ever-after.
Connect with Hailey at
Hailey is gifting a digital book from a select list of her backlist titles to a commenter!
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