About the Book:
Title:
Jules
Author: Kaelia Stevens
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 94
Genre: Magical Realism
Author: Kaelia Stevens
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 94
Genre: Magical Realism
War. It doesn’t
start with armies or bombs. It doesn’t start with declarations or protests. It
doesn’t start with speeches. It starts with one thing. Intent.
Jules understands this concept. She intends to kill a cult leader. She intends to undo magic from the past. She intends to get her family home.
She intends to start a war.
Jules understands this concept. She intends to kill a cult leader. She intends to undo magic from the past. She intends to get her family home.
She intends to start a war.
For More Information
- Jules is available at Amazon.
- Pick up your copy at Barnes & Noble.
When
I entered the blue-lighted nightclub, Sting was at the piano again. He was
thundering out jazz compositions with the energy of a hyper pygmy goat.
There was a twin-headed Doppobocca at the
microphone, scatting like a pro. These squatty, yellow aliens landed somewhere
in Italy, and
apparently enjoyed the culture so much they decided to stop by Earth on a
regular basis. Doppobocca was not their species name, just what the fairies
from Italy
decided to call them. It was an Earthling nickname, as far as they were
concerned, and the Doppobocca didn't seem to mind in the least.
The alien’s two heads were currently scatting
something I had never heard before and probably would never hear outside of
Sting's nightclub. The heads scatted back and forth, while the single, thick
body moved and danced to the beat.
I made my way to the bar, ordered some Pixie
wine, and watched the crowd. I was watching to see if my Hyena contact would
show up. She liked to frequent My Fair Lady as much as I did, if not more
because she had more time. Tonight should have been one of her nights, if I
remembered correctly.
"Quite a turnout tonight, isn't it?"
someone said behind me, loudly.
I glanced over my shoulder and took in intense
brown eyes broken up by a jovial smile on a narrow face. Some of his blond hair
was matted in the front, bobbing with every habitual flick of his head in an
attempt to get it out of his eyes.
I shrugged slowly with a single shoulder. Gave
him a teasing smile as I turned back to the crowd. "Aren't you in the
wrong place, Keeper?"
His expression fell as he looked down at his
outfit; it was a simple, brown vest held open over a grey shirt with
sloppy-looking carpenter jeans. I pointed at the back of his hand, which bore a
tattoo in the shape of the Keepers’ insignia: lady justice. Scales in one hand,
sword in the other, blindfolded.
It was a human insignia that the Keepers
adopted for themselves, in an attempt to maintain the idea that justice is
blind. In their case, justice was not only blind, but mute, deaf, and dumb as
well.
He lifted his hand to stare at it and frowned,
as if he had forgotten it was there. After a moment, he shrugged it off and
smiled. "I'm not on the clock," he responded jovially. "I can be
anywhere I want. And talk to whoever I want."
"Got it," I said. "So get back
to your lonely drink."
He held up a long glass filled with tree sap,
alcohol, a tap of blood and a hint of cherry. It was called a Maiden’s Bluff. I
hated the taste of it, but it was a popular favorite.
"It's never lonely when you're drinking
next to a be-a-utiful woman," he said, toasting me before taking a long
drink.
As he threw his head back, his hair shifted
just enough for me to see an angle to his ears. He wasn't human.
About the Author
Writing from a young age, K. Stevens published her first book in June of 2015 in honor of her father, Rod Bayron. A lifetime nerd, animal care-giver, current student of the arts and aspiring ceramist, Stevens has an artistic nature that is akin to a bloodmoon: It shows up once in a while, it's strange and mysterious, and it has a tendency to freak people out.
Her latest book
is the magical realism novel, Jules.
For
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