by Various Authors
Release Date: September 21st 2015
Summary from Goodreads:
Our collection includes fourteen unique mermaid tales with over 900 pages of enchanting stories from award-winning and best-selling authors!
From mermaids to sirens, Miami to Athens, dark paranormal romance to contemporary stories with steam, the fourteen award-winning and best-selling authors of the FALLING IN DEEP COLLECTION are bringing you mermaid tales like you've never seen before. Are you ready to fall in deep?
Scales by Pauline Creeden
Ink: A Mermaid Romance by Melanie Karsak
Of Ocean and Ash by A. R. Draeger
Deep Breath by J. M. Miller
At the Heart of the Deep by Carrie Wells
The Mermaid's Denby Ella Malone
The Water is Sweeter by Eli Constant
The Glass Mermaidby Poppy Lawless
An Officer & a Mermaid by Blaire Edens
How to be a Mermaid by Erin Hayes
Cold Water Bridegroom by B. Brumley
Immersed by Katie Hayoz
Siren's Kiss by Margo Bond Collins
To Each His Own by Anna Albergucci
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**The Falling in Deep Collection is on sale for $0.99 through September 28th!**
The Authors
GIVEAWAY:
Excerpt
Title: The Glass MermaidAuthor: Poppy Lawless
CHAPTER 1:
KATE THE SURF LAPPED OVER MY FEET, sea foam tickling my toes. It was early summer, but the lake water was still icy. I closed my eyes and felt the cool waves. In the deep of winter, when the lake would freeze, we always sheltered on one of the small islands that dotted Lake Erie. The humans in those days had called us lumpeguin. Sighing deeply, I opened my eyes and looked down at the rocky shoreline. “There you are,” I whispered, bending to pick up a piece of green beach glass. I lifted it and looked at it in the diming sunlight. It was tear-shaped and worn smooth from its time in the water. A soft white sheen coated the green glass. That made seven green pieces, five light blue pieces, eight white pieces, and seven amber pieces. Not a bad haul. Alas, no red. I rarely found red anymore. The lake had stopped giving up her most beautiful treasures. If I wanted, I could swim down deep to the troves of wave-kissed glass. But I hadn’t been below the surface in nearly three hundred years, and I certainly wasn’t going to ruin that stretch over some sparkly bauble, even if all my customers begged for red beach glass. I tucked the green beach glass into my satchel, pulled my long, straw-colored hair back, and then bent to pick up my sandals. I looked out at the lake. The sun was dipping below the horizon. There was nothing more glorious than a Lake Erie sunset. Shimmering shades of rosy pink, orange, and magenta illuminated the sky and reflected on the waves. Breathing in deeply, I tried to inhale the scene. The briny scent of the fresh lake water was perfumed with the lingering smell of snow and flowers. Not for the first time, I wondered what my old home looked like now. Forgotten under the waves, the eerie sea kingdom had been left to be ruled by ghosts and memories. I sucked in a breath and turned to go. I wouldn’t cry. Mermaids’ tears were, after all, a special and rare commodity. They carried life itself, and I didn’t have much of that magical spark left in me. A single tear could spell my end, sapping out the last of the gift from the deep. No, I’d managed to live for over three hundred years. It wouldn’t do to weep over an amazing sunset, a nearly-forgotten past, nor the realization that I was truly alone. It was what it was. I couldn’t change the fact that I was the last mermaid.
Interview
Ink: A Mermaid RomanceInterview with Author Melanie Karsak
1.What is your favorite mermaid story or myth?
When I was a teen, I fell in love with the Slavic/Russian novels written by C. J. Cherryh, including her work Rusulka. Rusulka is the story about a drowned girl who becomes a haunted spirit. Rusulka are prevelant in Slavic myth. They are often depicted as spirits, but sometimes they appear as nymphs or water sprites. I was really inspired by Cherryh’s Rusulka character. 2.What was the inspiration for your mermaid novella? I moved to Florida about five years ago, and I was really inspired by all the sights on the coast. We’ve taken trips to Miami on a few occasions. I enjoy the architecture, but dislike the vibe of the city. It’s the same vibe Ink feels when she is there (sorry, Miami). I live on the Space Coast, not far from NASA, and I love this area. We are close to Cocoa Beach which has the feel of a “once-happening” place. There is a quaint charm to its faded, sea-side glory. I adore Cocoa Village, a quaint downtown area. There are lovely little shops and old oak trees with Spanish moss. It was the perfect setting for Ink’s eventual rendezvous with a good friend. 3.Cast your characters. If your novella was made into a movie, who would play your main characters? Ink is hard to cast, but I would probably choose someone like Megan Fox. For Hal, I would definitely cast Jason Momoa. Because, well, Jason Momoa. 4.What was most challenging thing writing about mermaids? The world building! Oh my gosh, it took me forever to figure out just how “under the sea” functioned in terms of a society. There was nothing to go from so I just made it all up! It took a lot more time and brain-power than I expected. 5.Ursula or Ariel? Ursula’s attitude with Ariel’s looks. Ariel is too “I need a man” for me. Ursula is too “I need power” for Ink. But they both have good qualities. I actually really love cecaelia, mer-octopus like Ursula. They play an important role in Ink. 6.What else should we know about your novella? There are alligator shifters and nyotaimori (Google it). I now know way more about alligator mating calls than a normal person would find useful. Don’t judge me by my Google searches.
Title: The Glass Mermaid
Author: Poppy Lawless
CHAPTER 1: KATE
THE SURF LAPPED OVER MY FEET, sea foam tickling my toe
s. It was early summer, but the
lake water was still icy. I closed my eyes and felt t
he cool waves. In the deep of winter, when the lake
would freeze, we always sheltered on one of the small is
lands that dotted Lake Erie. The humans in those
days had called us lumpeguin. Sighing deeply, I opened my eyes
and looked down at the rocky shoreline.
“There you are,” I whispered, bending to pick up a piece of g
reen beach glass. I lifted it and looked
at it in the diming sunlight. It was tear-shaped and worn s
mooth from its time in the water. A soft white
sheen coated the green glass. That made seven green piec
es, five light blue pieces, eight white pieces, and
seven amber pieces. Not a bad haul. Alas, no red. I ra
rely found red anymore. The lake had stopped
giving up her most beautiful treasures. If I wanted, I could
swim down deep to the troves of wave-kissed
glass. But I hadn’t been below the surface in nearly thre
e hundred years, and I certainly wasn’t going to
ruin that stretch over some sparkly bauble, even if all my c
ustomers begged for red beach glass.
I tucked the green beach glass into my satchel, pulled my
long, straw-colored hair back, and then
bent to pick up my sandals. I looked out at the lake. The sun
was dipping below the horizon. There was
nothing more glorious than a Lake Erie sunset. Shimmering s
hades of rosy pink, orange, and magenta
illuminated the sky and reflected on the waves. Breathing i
n deeply, I tried to inhale the scene. The briny
scent of the fresh lake water was perfumed with the linge
ring smell of snow and flowers. Not for the first
time, I wondered what my old home looked like now. Forgotten under
the waves, the eerie sea kingdom
had been left to be ruled by ghosts and memories.
I sucked in a breath and turned to go. I wouldn’t cry. Me
rmaids’ tears were, after all, a special and
rare commodity. They carried life itself, and I didn’t ha
ve much of that magical spark left in me. A single
tear could spell my end, sapping out the last of the gift fr
om the deep. No, I’d managed to live for over
three hundred years. It wouldn’t do to weep over an amazing
sunset, a nearly-forgotten past, nor the
realization that I was truly alone. It was what it was.
I couldn’t change the fact that I was the last
mermaid.
Title: The Glass Mermaid
Author: Poppy Lawless
CHAPTER 1: KATE
THE SURF LAPPED OVER MY FEET, sea foam tickling my toe
s. It was early summer, but the
lake water was still icy. I closed my eyes and felt t
he cool waves. In the deep of winter, when the lake
would freeze, we always sheltered on one of the small is
lands that dotted Lake Erie. The humans in those
days had called us lumpeguin. Sighing deeply, I opened my eyes
and looked down at the rocky shoreline.
“There you are,” I whispered, bending to pick up a piece of g
reen beach glass. I lifted it and looked
at it in the diming sunlight. It was tear-shaped and worn s
mooth from its time in the water. A soft white
sheen coated the green glass. That made seven green piec
es, five light blue pieces, eight white pieces, and
seven amber pieces. Not a bad haul. Alas, no red. I ra
rely found red anymore. The lake had stopped
giving up her most beautiful treasures. If I wanted, I could
swim down deep to the troves of wave-kissed
glass. But I hadn’t been below the surface in nearly thre
e hundred years, and I certainly wasn’t going to
ruin that stretch over some sparkly bauble, even if all my c
ustomers begged for red beach glass.
I tucked the green beach glass into my satchel, pulled my
long, straw-colored hair back, and then
bent to pick up my sandals. I looked out at the lake. The sun
was dipping below the horizon. There was
nothing more glorious than a Lake Erie sunset. Shimmering s
hades of rosy pink, orange, and magenta
illuminated the sky and reflected on the waves. Breathing i
n deeply, I tried to inhale the scene. The briny
scent of the fresh lake water was perfumed with the linge
ring smell of snow and flowers. Not for the first
time, I wondered what my old home looked like now. Forgotten under
the waves, the eerie sea kingdom
had been left to be ruled by ghosts and memories.
I sucked in a breath and turned to go. I wouldn’t cry. Me
rmaids’ tears were, after all, a special and
rare commodity. They carried life itself, and I didn’t ha
ve much of that magical spark left in me. A single
tear could spell my end, sapping out the last of the gift fr
om the deep. No, I’d managed to live for over
three hundred years. It wouldn’t do to weep over an amazing
sunset, a nearly-forgotten past, nor the
realization that I was truly alone. It was what it was.
I couldn’t change the fact that I was the last
mermaid.
Title: The Glass Mermaid
Author: Poppy Lawless
CHAPTER 1: KATE
THE SURF LAPPED OVER MY FEET, sea foam tickling my toe
s. It was early summer, but the
lake water was still icy. I closed my eyes and felt t
he cool waves. In the deep of winter, when the lake
would freeze, we always sheltered on one of the small is
lands that dotted Lake Erie. The humans in those
days had called us lumpeguin. Sighing deeply, I opened my eyes
and looked down at the rocky shoreline.
“There you are,” I whispered, bending to pick up a piece of g
reen beach glass. I lifted it and looked
at it in the diming sunlight. It was tear-shaped and worn s
mooth from its time in the water. A soft white
sheen coated the green glass. That made seven green piec
es, five light blue pieces, eight white pieces, and
seven amber pieces. Not a bad haul. Alas, no red. I ra
rely found red anymore. The lake had stopped
giving up her most beautiful treasures. If I wanted, I could
swim down deep to the troves of wave-kissed
glass. But I hadn’t been below the surface in nearly thre
e hundred years, and I certainly wasn’t going to
ruin that stretch over some sparkly bauble, even if all my c
ustomers begged for red beach glass.
I tucked the green beach glass into my satchel, pulled my
long, straw-colored hair back, and then
bent to pick up my sandals. I looked out at the lake. The sun
was dipping below the horizon. There was
nothing more glorious than a Lake Erie sunset. Shimmering s
hades of rosy pink, orange, and magenta
illuminated the sky and reflected on the waves. Breathing i
n deeply, I tried to inhale the scene. The briny
scent of the fresh lake water was perfumed with the linge
ring smell of snow and flowers. Not for the first
time, I wondered what my old home looked like now. Forgotten under
the waves, the eerie sea kingdom
had been left to be ruled by ghosts and memories.
I sucked in a breath and turned to go. I wouldn’t cry. Me
rmaids’ tears were, after all, a special and
rare commodity. They carried life itself, and I didn’t ha
ve much of that magical spark left in me. A single
tear could spell my end, sapping out the last of the gift fr
om the deep. No, I’d managed to live for over
three hundred years. It wouldn’t do to weep over an amazing
sunset, a nearly-forgotten past, nor the
realization that I was truly alone. It was what it was.
I couldn’t change the fact that I was the last
mermaid.
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