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New Release: Legacy of Light – Nita Round

Legacy of Light - Nita Round

QSFer Nita Round has a new queer urban fantasy out (Bi), Angels of the Veil book 1: Legacy of Light.

Cassie Evans is more than your average supernatural hunter.

Cassie’s the daughter of a fallen angel, who vows to protect the innocent and defends the veil between the supernatural and humankind with fierce determination. Whilst investigating supernatural disturbances, she expects to find herself faced with monsters, or irate supernatural beasts. But this time it’s different.

A seer warns of a threat to the delicate peace between good and evil. Demonic forces are gathering. Unlikely alliances are forming, seeking to tip the balance in their favor. War is coming and no one is safe.

To face these dark and malevolent creatures, Cassie will have to team up with a British, fiery-tempered witch and her occult expert husband. The problem is they parted on bad terms.

And they are both her ex’s.

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Bone Yard

Night covered Highgate cemetery in a blanket of shadow. Midnight had come and gone, and even though it was late, the many lights of the distant city glowed bright against the horizon. Overhead, thick clouds scudded across the sky and hid the moon and stars until even the lights from the rest of London didn’t impose.

Cassandra, Cassie to her friends, a warden of House Aevrael, stood on the grass-covered roof of the tombs the brochures called the Circle of Heaven. She peered over the edge into the darkness between the rows of crypts and her night vision sharpened the longer she stared in to the darkness.

She was not alone in her task. The twins, Malek and Morana, stood beside her. Neither of them looked comfortable, but while Morana kept herself still, Malek fiddled nervously with his crossbow. Nothing moved and barely a sound reached Cassie’s ears. It was all still, quiet, and peaceful.

A scream rent the air, and Cassie stiffened. Malek visibly jerked at the sound and almost dropped his cross‐ bow. “What the hell?”

“Shush!” Cassie hissed.

Morana dropped into a crouch, her blade already in her hand. Malek joined her. At least they were quiet.

Cassie kneeled at the edge of the tombs and the shrub‐ bery at the top of the mound helped to reduce her outline. She cocked her head from side to side to listen to the sounds below. There was nothing. Her leather armor, dark‐ ened for night raids, helped her to blend in with the shadows in case ordinary, mundane people caught sight of her. She bore two short swords in scabbards at her side and a gun strapped to her waist, although for most of the crea‐ tures she hunted, guns were less than useless. Sometimes the monsters she encountered were decidedly human, and then guns were very useful.

Another scream, but this time the sound seemed marginally less human. “It’s a vixen,” she said, and relaxed.

“Damned animals,” Malek muttered. He slumped down, his feet dangling over the edge of the tombs. “This is a waste of time. They should have shown by now.”

“Ghouls are not here on your schedule,” Cassie said.

“Since when do ghouls miss a chance at a feed? Even old bones are better than none,” Morana whispered. She at least kept her voice down.

Cassie agreed. “Something isn’t right. But it is more than the lack of ghouls that concerns me.”

“Because the bones here are old and they prefer more meaty feasts?” Morana asked.

“Partly. But their feeding is rather more complex than feeding on just the new.”

Malek’s eyes turned golden and glowed dimly. He was not one of the most powerful members of her house, and the relative dimness of his Aevrael eyes reflected that level of power.

He scanned the nearby tombs. “Nothing here.”

“Are you sure?” Cassie asked.

Author Bio

Hello, I’m Nita and a British author. I live with my wife and a little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in Staffordshire, United Kingdom.

When I’m not writing, I’m an avid gamer. I love to escape to any world, any format, any console, and any time. I also play Role Play Games (AD&D, Werewolf, Cthulhu) and I’m sadistic enough to be the dungeon master whenever I can.

I write every chance I get, which is every day. Except Saturday. That’s when I pretend I’m not writing.

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