Title: The Endless Sea Between Us
Author: Lucy Mason
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 10/31/2023
Heat Level: 1 – No Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 66600
Genre: Fantasy, Romance, fantasy, family-drama, witch, mermaid, magic, prince, quest, body swap
Add to Goodreads
Description
Five years ago, Faeryn Moss lost her family and home to a plague that swept her village. As the sole survivor, she was rumored to be a witch—a rumor she never denied because it was the truth. Ostracized and cast out in fear, she now lives a quiet life in a cave on the beach, alone with her magic and the only thing that never let her down, the only thing she loves: the sea. But when she sings up a storm borne from her grief in order to collect a net full of the sea’s treasure, she gets more than she bargained for. There’s a mermaid tangled within it.
Zale, washed into the net by the storm, is full of questions about humanity. Banished from her society for rescuing a drowning human, all she wants is a chance on land to start over. Seeing an opportunity for both of them to get what they want, Faeryn creates a transmutation rune—but as they go from reluctant allies to something else and Zale thaws Faeryn’s frosty heart, they struggle with what’s more important…their chance at a new beginning or their budding romance.
Everything changes when the kingdom’s witch-hunting prince decides to take Zale as a member of the royal court and the potential future queen against her will. Faeryn must follow her across the sea so their transmutation rune can be completed by the next full moon or risk losing her love and her life to the very magic she cherishes.
The Endless Sea Between Us
Lucy Mason © 2023
All Rights Reserved
Everything my pod and my clan ever told me went against this. Humans were dangerous, murderous monsters. We were to drown them if they managed to find us and avoid them at all costs…but there was a reason I no longer lived in the palace. I had saved a human once before and paid the price. And now I was doing it again, my mouth pressed against hers, breathing air into her lungs as I shook free the last of the net.
She had saved me. I would save her. It was only fair.
I swam toward the light, the warmth of the morning sun turning the surface of the water a luminous crystal blue. She was limp in my arms, weighed down by the thick dark fabric covering her body, and I was so tired, so weak, but we managed to break the surface. I hauled her toward land and heaved her up onto the wet packed sand.
She wasn’t breathing. I shoved her onto her side and slammed the flat of my hand against her back until she started coughing, gagging on the saltwater in her lungs. Somehow, she was still dry. I pushed her hair, black as squid ink, away from her face, holding my ear down close enough to hear her rattling breaths.
Alive. She was alive, and so was I.
The last human I saved had not looked like this. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and tan, with hair bleached from the sun. She was smaller, delicate, breakable. Also unconscious. I took a fingertip and lifted a strand of hair from where it lay fanned out around her. I rubbed it in my hand, astonished at its silkiness. She should have been drenched. It was baffling, delightful, a puzzle I couldn’t wait to solve.
But I couldn’t yet. I could be seen.
Letting a human see you was as good as a death sentence. I knew that better than anyone.
I retreated into the water. Being seen was riskier than a shark tracking the scent of my blood. I might be able to get away from a predator in my own territory, but on land I didn’t stand a chance. The net hung like a ghost near a rocky outcropping that dropped off into a trench, the human artifacts it once held perilously close to the edge. The ground was littered with satiny pearls as big as my fists, gifts from the giant clams the sea had swept away.
The currents had gone wild, reaching the calm depths where I had made my home in the remains of a human sailing ship, pulling me helplessly into the eddies. There had been a light, golden and warm and pulsing softly in the confusing darkness of the tide, and I had made my way to it—only to find a trap, the net that had almost murdered me.
I scooped up an armful of pearls and went back to the surface. I emerged just enough to see land. The girl was alive, crawling back toward a cave set deep in the rockface. I would bring her the sea’s treasure as a thank-you, and it would give me a quiet place to learn more about her. I would never understand her—human words were low-pitched and gravelly and impossible to learn—but there was more than one way to communicate. I would draw, gesture, do whatever it took.
She might not even be human, or how else would she stay perfectly dry after leaving the water?
When the tide rose, bringing water into her hiding place, I sneaked in, deposited the armload of pearls by the edge of the pool, and settled in to wait. It was the perfect lair, serving as protection from the weather, with plenty of food washing willingly right inside. My rescuer was curled up on her side, sleeping off the trauma.
Her eyelashes were thick and dark against her cheeks. Two limbs were curled up toward her chest where her tail should be. I dug my fingers into the rock and dragged myself up next to her, pulling the coverings from her…I reached for the word. Father had taught it to me only in the context of making me aware of danger and enemies.
Legs. They were legs, like two muscled fins, naked of scales. And underneath the coverings, which I tossed to the side, was more fabric. Why were humans so obsessed with layers? Why cover their skin? There was nothing shameful in it. Maybe she was cold. I peeled off that layer and saw the ends of her legs, digits like fingers but shorter and stubbier curling against the cool air.
She was amazing.
There was a rush in my stomach like I used to get when I’d sneak out and do all the dangerous things my parents warned me about—holding fast to dolphins as they hurtled through the strongest currents, lurking under the silhouettes of human ships so close I could see the sun shining through the waves around them. She was dangerous and thrilling in the same way. I laid beside her on the stone until my tail ached, my scales growing stiff and uncomfortable. When I slipped back into the pool, the tide had ebbed, leaving a stream so shallow I couldn’t escape.
Oops.
Purchase
NineStar Press | Books2Read
Amazon
Lucy lives in rural southern Illinois with a frankly ridiculous amount of yarn and books. During the day she works in adult education and by night she’s a writer and dabbler in yarncrafts. She knits, loves video games and podcasts, and cries over fictional characters regularly.
Website | Twitter
One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!
