Title: The Trickster's HuntSeries: Three Tricksters Harem #1Authors: Carrie Whitethorne & Kel Carpenter Genre: Paranormal RomanceRelease Date: May 18, 2018
I get that feeling a lot. I thought it was normal. I didn’t know it was a warning. I didn’t know it was there to keep me alive.There’s a lot of things I didn’t know, but what I now know…it’s got me scared senseless.Turns out, the Gods are real.Destiny is real.Fate is something that we can’t always control.And me? I’m just a human caught up in a game of the Gods. Except—I’m not. Not really. I’m someone else entirely, according to the three genies who have sworn to protect me.From what? Well to explain that, we’re going to have to go way back to Ancient Egypt. A land of monsters and Gods and wars.Where do I fit in? Smack bang in the middle, by the looks of it.
I managed five lengths of the pool before I lost the ability to breathe and positioned myself on the steps leading down into the water for a rest. That was when he walked in.I’m pretty sure I gawked. I couldn’t help it. Most people would have found it odd that all these fit guys were wandering around, but not me. I was damn grateful for them.He was tall; taller than the other two, broader across the shoulders, and ripped. Not that I was comparing. I make a point of appreciating the male form in most of its varieties.He ignored me, walking around to the deeper end of the pool. I shamelessly watched him pass. The past two days I’d been subject to the torture of two flirting men. The one passing me now, with his honey coloured skin, rippling abs, and short boxed beard, was one too many. His choice of swimwear didn’t help either.Nope. Nothing left to the imagination other than how his blood pressure fared.
There was no one else there, and I was about to go back to my room when a cat sauntered over. I didn’t see where it had come from, but it had a collar and was a gray striped color.It sat there for ages, staring me out, its tail flicking from side to side. Then it walked around the table a few times. When it came right up and pawed at my leg, I wasn’t sure what to do. “Umm...go on. Shoo.”It didn’t.It kept tapping at my leg. I was going to swipe it away when it jumped up into my lap, purring and pressing its face down the side of the chair next to my hip. I grabbed it and dropped it on the floor next to me.Rather than take the hint, the tenacious little shit leapt effortlessly onto the table, barely avoiding knocking the glass over, and turned to face me as it sat down. It looked pissed off, until it sat its arse down, lifted its leg, and began to clean itself.
At her childhood home in Yorkshire, Carrie was encouraged to utilize her imagination, to see things for what they could be, and to ask the question “what if?” Her mom introduced her to worlds filled with magic: Barrie, Lewis, Tolkien, Blyton. That magic evolved and continued to inspire her when she discovered Rowling and Sanderson. They all asked the question and explored the possibilities, opening doors to new adventures that would forever change generations to come. Even as a child, Carrie preferred creative outlets and writing. But as an adult, Carrie had not yet had that moment of inspiration to begin writing a novel of her own. That all changed one normal morning, on a normal walk to school, when a small boy slipped from the pavement and on to the road. There was no accident. No horror. Just a near miss that later formulated into one question: what if he was able to save himself? Fueled by this question and Carrie’s love of fantasy, European folklore, and mythological creatures, The Riftkeepers emerged. This world answered her question. The series gave birth to characters that took on a life of their own, many telling continued stories in novellas and spinoffs.When Carrie isn’t writing and annoying her editor with endless typos, she barely sleeps, thinks about her characters, indulges in an unhealthy Facebook addiction, exploring the beauty of the Lake District as her backyard, and contemplating which she loves more: pizza or wine. Definitely wine. Considered to be one of the most boring people she knows, writing her own biography was a definite weakness. Her first draft was rubbish and was picked apart by friends who insisted she was funnier and far more interesting than she gives herself credit. She was no longer allowed to write her own biography, so she provided input.Carrie now resides in West Cumbria with her husband and two children. They are her inspiration. Her world.
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