Title: Regna Born
Series: The Regna Sagas, Book One
Author: Erick Holmberg
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 08/06/2024
Heat Level: 1 – No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 86100
Genre: Fantasy, urban fantasy, paranormal, literature/general fiction, M/M, slow burn, murder mystery, magic, super powers, super humans, psychic abilities, culture war, action adventure, pets
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Description
“Beneath the veneer of everyday life, a clandestine world thrives in the shadows, filled with powerful telepaths who call themselves adepts. These superbeings have guarded their secrets for millennia, but when a brilliant scientist, Joe Martin, maps and prepares to publish their genome in a famous medical journal, the adepts realize they can’t hide forever and further exposure to the human world threatens their existence.
Gabriel Kelly has his life turned upside down when someone murders Joe, his ex, and the race to find the genetic map begins. Gabriel, an average adept, enlists the help of his best friend Sellers, who has his own secrets, in exposing the killer and securing the map.
Gabriel finds himself caught between the human cops who think he killed Joe and don’t know about the map, and rival adepts who don’t care who killed Joe but want the map for their own ends. Will Gabriel be the key to preserving the secrecy of adept society, or will the revelation of their existence alter the course of history forever?”
Regna Born
Erick Holmberg © 2024
All Rights Reserved
A slender colossus in a flowing baker’s apron fills the store entrance. One vertical arm holds a tray, and the other flung the door open. One size twelve foot, at the end of a very long leg, holds it open.
“Stand aside, mortals, stand aside. You’re about to be graced with the finest croquembouche in this and every universe! For the peasants amongst you—and that would be all of you—that’s pastry.”
Enter Sellers, Gabriel’s childhood friend, maker of wickedly good strawberry scones, and proprietor of Journey’s End Bakery. Sellers always draws attention. It is, as he has often lamented, his burden to bear. As a younger man, he tried to tone it down, but as he’s grown older, Sellers has come to realize it’s an exercise in futility. His creamy alabaster skin sets off jet-black hair, which Gabriel suspects he dyes. This crowning glory adds another three inches to his prodigious height. As tall as he is, he never shies away from heels. Sellers trained as an actor, so he can’t help but sound like Anthony Hopkins despite being from the Boston suburbs. He is also a witch, a literal cauldron-stirring witch, as Gabriel likes to say. Sellers’s famous croquembouche pastry is as tall as Zuko and an all-time favorite of Gabriel’s.
Sellers catches Gabriel’s eye and surreptitiously mouths, What’s wrong?
“Sellers!” Gabriel exclaims. “You brought croquembouche!” He has to look up to meet the eyes of only one person in his life, and it’s his best friend. “Later,” he whispers.
Sellers winks in reply and says with a flourish, “Indeed! Gather around and partake of the food of the gods via my blessed oven.” He sets the dessert down on a counter and turns toward Zuko. “And for you, dear Zuko—stalwart guardian of Charles Street and all that is good—for you, I’ve baked the most delicious treat of all.” Sellers gingerly places the biscuit in Zuko’s mouth, and he gratefully accepts it and trots off.
“Margot!” Sellers exclaims while opening his arms wide and rushing in for a hug. She is the only person Sellers willingly hugs.
“You’re a dream,” she says. “What have you done now?”
“I know, I know. It’s difficult to take in so much talent and delicious goodness all at once, but do try.”
“I’ll do my best.” Margot plants a well-placed kiss on Sellers’s cheek, then turns to Gabriel. “A white girl came in looking for you. Her name is Keira, and she bought a diamond tennis bracelet. Do you know her?”
“Oh? I don’t know any Keira.” Gabriel considers a moment. “Marg, come on over. This is Ankit. He’s here about the store manager position.”
“I didn’t know we posted already,” Margot says as if deep in thought. “Thanks for coming. It’s your lucky day. We get to talk over choux pastry puffs.”
Sellers lean in and whispers to Gabriel, “Who’s the adept snack?”
“You can tell he’s an adept that quickly?”
“Really?” Sellers raises his aquiline nose. “What do you take me for? Adept power radiates off him.”
Gabriel nods in agreement. “It does. He’s a Koli Provectus.” Gabriel glances around the store. “Did you cast the sound spell so no one can overhear us?”
“Indeed, I did,” Sellers replies and puffs out his chest. “What do you take me for? I also cast an obfuscation spell, so we’ll be ignored for a few minutes or, at least, very difficult to notice. I bet you missed that! Please tell me you missed that. Still, it hurts my pride that your handsome friend has noticed my clandestine spell-casting. And what’s a Koli? You can’t expect me to keep up with your Byzantine politics.”
“The Koli House is the great adept clan of western India,” Gabriel says, afraid he might sound like his lecturer father.
Sellers speaks slowly and deliberately until he’s barely audible. “I can feel his mind pushing up against the protective spell that shields my thoughts, but he camouflages it. He’s subtle or trying to be.” Sellers tilts his head. “I can’t believe that cutie isn’t all over the—what do you call it?—the matrix by now.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes. “It’s the grid. It’s called the grid.”
Sellers never calls it the same thing twice. Last time, it was the adept Amber alert.
“Well,” Sellers says, half laughing, “I do love a man of mystery.” He waves his hands around the store to impress Gabriel with his handiwork, proving no one notices them.
“You’re a scary good witch.”
“Correction.” Sellers raises a finger. “I’m a scary, amazing witch. So amazing, our high priestess called me to the conclave.” Sellers takes a slight bow. “Please, hold your applause.”
“The witch conclave?” Gabriel says with some alarm. “That’s quite an honor, but seriously, is that good or bad?”
Sellers take a deep breath. “That remains to be seen.”
In the Americas, before witches and adepts struck their fragile armistice, they fought one another. They warred over prominent dall humans to wield influence, and they fought for control over industries, land, and wealth. Anisa was part of the last war in the 1800s. Gabriel often wondered if that was how she lost her husband, but she never speaks of it, at least not with him. For now, the cold war between witches and adepts is at no risk of thawing.
Both species have long memories. The unlikely friendship between Sellers and Gabriel, while not openly discouraged, was never encouraged either. It was years before they were allowed into each other’s homes. They learned early not to share too much information about their witch or adept sides or risk ostracism. It was unspoken yet obvious.
They became friends at a private school favored by the wealthy families of Boston’s Beacon Hill. Gabriel was the husky kid dressed in fine yet old-fashioned clothes. Exceptionally long-lived beings like adepts have difficulty adapting to new fashions.
The sad outfit invited vitriol from his elementary school peers, who gawked and guffawed. Gabriel swallowed his feelings. He would eat those feelings later.
Sellers was quick to come to his verbal defense. He said that while Gabriel may talk funny, he was under his protection. At recess, Sellers demonstrated that he was just as capable coming to Gabriel’s physical as well as verbal defense. Years later, Gabriel learned that Sellers having three older brothers with pugilistic reputations helped to buttress his courage.
Gabriel crosses his arms. “I’m going to hire him.”
“What?” Sellers exclaims, jerking back his head. “Already?”
“I think he’s a spy.”
“Okay,” Sellers says, all the mirth gone from his voice. “What must be discussed under the power of a spell and in the middle of my hectic workday? My scones are flying off the shelves. Why the cloak and dagger intrigue?”
Gabriel looks around, not to ascertain if it’s safe to proceed but to avoid the unavoidable.
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Erick grew up in Lunenburg, Massachusetts, where it was impossible to find fantasy novels with diverse characters and points of view. Erick lives in Boston with his husband and their dog, a giant Bernadoodle named Niko, and writes the books he always wanted to read and the lyrics he always wanted to hear. When he’s not writing, walking the dog, or making pasta, Erick is a vice president at an asset management firm.
Regna Born is Erick’s debut novel with NineStar Publishing.
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