Length: 78,000 words approx.
Blurb
When industrial magician John Blake arrives to investigate a case of witchcraft, he finds the peculiar, arrogant Thornby as alarming as he is attractive. John soon finds himself caught up in a dark fairytale, where all the rules of magic—and love—are changed.
To set Thornby free, both men must face life-changing truths—and John must accept that the brave, witty man who’s winning his heart may also be about to break it. Can they escape a web of magic that’s as perilous as love?
***
“Magic, folklore, dark deeds, and hot romance combine in this wildly enjoyable, inventive story set in a lovely alt-Victorian Gothic world. More please!”
—KJ Charles, RITA™-nominated author of THE MAGPIE LORD and SPECTRED ISLE
"Salt Magic, Skin Magic by Lee Welch is the sort of book you want to read again the moment you reach the end. Beautifully written, with a romance that is by turns sweet and scorching, it belongs on the keeper shelf of any lover of paranormal historical."
—Jordan L. Hawk, author of the WHYBORNE AND GRIFFIN and HEXWORLD series
Excerpt
“Stop, Lord Thornby! I want to talk to you.”
Thornby walked faster, slight limp becoming more pronounced.
“Stop, I say!”
John felt in his pockets for his vials and pouches, then changed his mind and simply put on speed. He’d come to this remote part of the grounds in the hope of a rest. He’d not slept much last night with the walls of Raskelf muttering and whispering, and the antiquities from Egypt shrieking muffled curses from the other side of the corridor.
The thought of Thornby had kept him awake as well; so resistant to the Judas Voice—that had given John an unpleasant moment—and so unapproachable, with that aristocratic hauteur you could never breach. And so strange. Why did the man wear such peculiar clothes? Today it was tight black pantaloons and a high stock that would have been fashionable forty years ago. And over this bizarre Regency costume was a rusty black greatcoat with wide cuffs, and a tricorn hat that would have looked well in the previous century.
And, yes, Thornby was handsome—heart-stoppingly so—with arrogant grey eyes, a mane of brown hair that almost reached his collar, and a preposterous red mouth. He was tall and thin and carried himself like a fencer. There was, too, something whip-taut about him, some unbearable tension that made you feel he might lash out. Or suddenly kiss you. Thornby had looked John up and down when he was introduced, finally unbending so far as to give John a slight inclination of the head. And John’s mouth had gone as dry as if Thornby had extended one of those elegant white hands and given his balls a gentle squeeze.
It was tiresome, really. It made it so much harder to concentrate. He must make sure he didn’t allow his attraction to the man to cloud his judgement. Possibly Thornby was using a glamour spell. John couldn’t sense one, but sometimes by their very nature they were difficult to detect.
So, he mustn’t think about how good it would be to slide his fingers inside Thornby’s old black pantaloons, how good it would be to taste his lovely mouth, and wipe that damned snooty expression off his face. If John had been in London, he would have gone to one of the houses that catered to men of his taste, and tried to forget about it. Here in the middle of rural Yorkshire it was far too dangerous to approach anyone, and in any case, farm lads were not his type. He’d simply leave as soon as he could tell Catterall he’d done his best.
They walked in single file for perhaps five minutes. The path smelt of rotting leaves, and a biting wind began to make its presence felt as they crossed into an open piece of moorland. Splashes of muddy water were spotting the back of Thornby’s coat. John used the close proximity to feel for magic. Like last night at dinner, he could sense nothing emanating from Thornby. There was certainly no demon reek, so Thornby probably wasn’t a theurgist, or if he was, he was a very fastidious one.
But then Thornby didn’t feel like a materials man either, and John could generally recognise his own kind. So, how had Thornby broken those charms? Now John was closer, and had longer to concentrate on Thornby alone, he thought there might be something magical, at the very edge of his awareness, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Most magicians used demons or materials, but there were other ways, so perhaps Thornby used some unfamiliar method.
John charged his ward stone, and put it back in his pocket. He patted his bag of salt and checked his Gelomorous twine and the demon trap, just in case. Whatever spells Thornby cared to throw at him, he was ready. In fact, he was almost looking forward to a fight.
They reached an open place a hundred yards from a small pine spinney. The dark trees were contorted sideways as if fleeing the icy wind. The sun, behind its grey pall of cloud, was beginning to set. Thornby suddenly stopped and swung around.
“Well, Mr Blake? I suppose you’d like to explain yourself?” Thornby’s chin was up, beautiful mouth curved in disdain.
Review
Salt Magic, Skin Magic is a
wonderful combination of magic, danger, myth, mystery, and romance with a few comical
moments thrown in for good measure. To say the book captured me from the very
start, would be a huge understatement. So much is going on between the opening
paragraph and the last line and yet, the story never felt overpowering or
confusing.
Allow me to list
everything that captured not only my attention but also my admiration in this
book.
Lord Thornby’s
captivity and the fact that it physically hurts him whenever he tried to leave
his father’s estate, captured my imagination immediately. The reason why, when
the truth was revealed came as a huge surprise and yet was as fitting as it was
inspired.
Because homosexuality
was still a severe crime at the time this story takes place, the developing
relationship between aristocratic Thornby and ‘commoner’ Blake would have made
for an interesting story on its own. Add magic and mystery to this dynamic and
what you’re left with is a thrilling and unputdownable tale of love against all
the odds.
Which brings me to
John Blake’s magic. Lee Welsh has created a world in which magic is an ability
people are born with and which is further developed through schooling, in the
appropriately named ‘Dee Institute’. The idea that practitioners of magic would
choose a specialization according to their abilities made so much sense to me. Although
I have to admit that the moments when John Blake had to ignore everything he’d
been taught and make up new rules to fit the situation fascinated me even more.
If I’m honest I have
to admit I’m not sure what aspect of the story captured me most. The (almost
reluctantly) developing attraction between Blake and Thornby was fascinating
and enticing. Blake’s magic intrigued me, and the mystery of Thornby’s
confinement kept me on my toes from start to finish.
It’s always a special
treat when I discover a new (to me) author who manages to surprise me, keep me
hooked, or is hugely talented at creating a captivating world. In Lee Welsh I
found a storyteller who manages to do all three in one intriguing story.
Suffice to say I will have to investigate what other treats this writer may
have in store for me.
Author Bio
Lee loves to hear from readers. You can find her at:
www.leewelchwriter.com
Twitter: @leewelchwriter
Facebook: www.facebook.com/leewelchwriter
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