Rainfall is now available in ebook and paperback formats!! As of right now, you can get a copy on Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Scribd, Overdrive and... honestly a shitload of places, I’m not going to list them all here but check out the universal link to see everywhere it’s available! You can select your preferred retailer from there. You can also find it on Goodreads!
Here’s the summary:
Fate doesn't take kindly to broken promises.
After an extremist group called the Spring overthrows the king and queen of Hiedos, Hiedean god Larai grants Silan Baridu magic to save the kingdom. Only the Chosen One can save Hiedos, but Silan refuses. His sister Aurie steps up and promises Larai that she will defeat the Spring instead.
With the help of a growing rebellion, Aurie works to resist the Spring's regime, but how can she defeat them without Silan's magic? She needs to figure something out fast. Because if Aurie can't keep her promise, then she—and Hiedos—will be in even more danger.
I’m so excited to be able to share this work with you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
As always, reblogs are incredibly helpful for spreading the word about Rainfall. Thank you for all you’ve already done to support me in the publishing process!!
Perhaps she should have expected as much. It had been six years since she had been here — six years of austere living, shut up first in a mountainside abbey, then in a mountainside fortress, all of it stark and simple and perfect scenery for a princess in exile, the last of the royals of Barviel, the fugitive hiding from those who had usurped her family’s throne.
Strangely perfect scenery, in fact.
Someone more paranoid might call it suspiciously so. After all, when Dominilde was sent to the abbey, no one had had any idea that House Angouver would kill her entire family in a vicious bid for the throne scarcely a year later. It had come as a complete surprise to everyone, and Dominilde’s being tucked away safely in a mountain abbey on the fringes of Barviel was a lucky coincidence. Obviously.
(Her deportment tutor had often told her sarcasm was unbecoming for young ladies. In the mountains, Dominilde had found that a few carefully placed barbs could make Annys laugh so hard she snorted. She’d never placed much significance on the no-sarcasm rule, but that had been when she’d officially deemed it useless. Besides, Dominilde was not just any young lady, not even the king’s youngest granddaughter. Not anymore.)
No one had seen the coup coming.
Except for the people who had plotted against her family, of course.
Ordinarily, the solarium would not have been Dominilde’s first choice of location in which to take a break from coronation planning. It was the worst offender in the palace with regard to glitter, but it couldn’t be helped. This was the best place to meet with the abbess of Montlinet Abbey, an order of nuns who devoted themselves to Veifrea, the Sun-Saint — the same order of nuns that had sheltered her for six years and supported her return to the throne. They were a formidable group, despite their near-exile from Barviel decades ago, and navigating the path from being their ward to being their queen would be… delicate.
It would have been easier, if not for Annys.
Dominilde gritted her teeth until her jaw ached. She couldn’t start thinking about that right now. The scarlet lace veil over her face would help to hide her expressions, just like it helped to dim the glitter of the solarium, but her voice would give her away if she let it.
She’d explained the veil as a symbol of her mourning for those who were lost in battle, which wasn’t a lie so much as it was a helpful coincidence. Dominilde did intend to mourn those who were lost in battle, once she had the time to spare — the time to let herself think about how pointless it had all been. In the meantime, her eyes hurt from the polished marble floors and the gilded picture frames and the sparkling crystal sculptures that lined the broad corridors of her childhood home, and the solarium was only making matters worse.
She refused to be hindered by little things like sparkles, or like six years of being molded into Montlinet Abbey’s ideal queen. Dominilde prided herself on her ability to make decisions with a cool head and clear sight, and she would walk away the victor.
But it was easier said than done. The abbess of Montlinet was as sharp as her saint and taught doctrine with all the hair-splitting precision of the philosophers and scientists that used to debate at Dominilde’s mother’s salons. It would be very easy for her to treat Dominilde as a stubborn, spoilt child, and very easy for Dominilde to respond to that treatment with a temper that had never done her any favors. She’d spent half an hour earlier going through the sword drills Annys had taught her years ago, then reducing several cabbages to shreds, both of which were Annys-approved methods of venting her less pleasant emotions.
Dominilde could not lose control.
Even though she hadn’t spent time in the palace, much less the solarium, in years, she knew the sound of the glass-paned double doors swinging open like she knew the sound of her own voice. Glass and crystal filled the solarium, all the better to reflect and magnify the light of the sun, and on bright days, like today, the double doors that led into the solarium seemed to glow. It was a place for contemplation, for communing with Veifrea, for paying respects — the perfect place to meet with the leader of the Sun-Saint’s disciples.
Brisk footsteps crossed the marble floor, and the abbess announced her presence with a crisp “My lady, I hope you are not overextending your energies. Once you are crowned, you will have very little time to yourself.”
Her robes swept over the marble as she approached the cushioned bench Dominilde had dragged into the center of the room, under the largest skylight, which was a circular pane of crystal-clear glass instead of the rich tints and intricate designs that flowered outwards to the edges of the solarium. Veifrea had devoted herself to clarity, to the bright path of truth, and Dominilde had never taken religious orders, but she had learned her lessons well.
“I’ve been coming here when all the bustle becomes too much.” Dominilde indicated the space next to her on the bench, upholstered in violet brocade that clashed gloriously with her red silk gown. She’d missed wearing silk. “It reminds me of the solarium at Montlinet, I suppose.”
The abbess sat down with a swell of creaking bones that made Dominilde think of the fragile statues of saints and ancestors in the Crystal Gallery. That was where the resemblance began and ended, though; the abbess’s white robes were a heavy, shapeless mass of wool, the only nod to beauty in the delicate filigree of the chatelaine that hung from her belt. The weather was too warm here for her to keep her many-layered hood up, as was common practice in the mountains. It hung down her back instead, revealing a neat blonde chignon streaked with silver. Her age and the sun had wrinkled her tanned face, which was free from cosmetics; the disciples of Veifrea did not cover their faces, except in grief.
“I am sorry that such a burden has been placed upon your shoulders,” the abbess said.
Dominilde’s veil also gave her the freedom to roll her eyes in private. She couldn’t grit her teeth again, couldn’t let the tautness seep into her voice, so it had to be rolling her eyes and pretending she didn’t want to shout. Pretending she believed a single word the abbess said.
She folded her hands together in her lap, delicately, not white-knuckled the way she wanted. “To be born royalty is to be born into the line of succession, like it or not. I will do the best that I can for my people. Earning their trust is hardly a burden.”
“You have faced terrible loss.” The abbess spoke like the saint of the sun was speaking through her: clear, direct, undeniable. But she was not the Vessel of Veifrea. Vessels were rare, almost the stuff of legends: a saint choosing a mortal body to inhabit so that they could descend to the earth. “I cannot even imagine how it must feel, to lose so many at such a young age.”
Many people had expressed similar sentiments to Dominilde — so many, in fact, that they were beginning to lose their meaning. Instead of saying so, or scoffing, she responded, “But the sun still rises, and I have work to do.”
The abbess half-smiled. “Our lady would be proud, but she is not compassionate, and balance is necessary. Perhaps you ought to spend some time with the disciples of Morimert. The queen should possess a deep understanding of the ethos of each of her saints.”
“I have work to do,” Dominilde repeated. “I know you must be eager to return to Montlinet, but I would beg your assistance one last time before you leave.”
“I am at your disposal for as long as you wish me to be. I would not abandon you to begin your reign alone. That is not our way.”
Dominilde had never expected the disciples of Montlinet to abandon her. That would defeat the purpose of all of their actions for years. But she didn’t say so. She did know how to hold her tongue, when the situation called for it — she could bide her time and watch for the perfect opening. Her blood buzzed in her veins, beating a war drum, while she smoothed the folds of her gown and pretended.
“What is your will?” the abbess said, and someone more paranoid might say it sounded patronizing.
Dominilde steeled herself. “Did you know Annys was meant to become the Vessel of Veifrea?”
The sun glared down at them through the skylight, glistening on the silk spread out over Dominilde’s lap, glinting off of the abbess’s chatelaine. Annys, rough-spun and freckled, with sun-streaks in her hair and a sword at her hip, had not been a nun — but she had been raised by them, dedicated to Veifrea, at Dominilde’s side in those years of exile, the sword who would bring her victory. People were calling her the Flame of Barviel now, a reference to both her patron saint and her fire-colored hair.
To become a saint’s Vessel, the host had to die.
The scarlet silk of Dominilde’s gown suddenly felt constricting, squeezing like steel around her chest. Trapping her lungs so that she had to force herself to breathe. There had been so much blood — and she’d only just begun to suspect, she hadn’t been ready.
“Annys? Did she…” The abbess trailed off, too fast, too neatly. Then her hand, cool and dry, settled on Dominilde’s shoulder. “Oh, you poor dear.”
Dominilde didn’t let herself shake the abbess’s hand off. She was grateful for the veil. This was the real reason she’d worn it — but it still wasn’t enough to hide the grit of anger lodged in her throat. “Did you know, Mother Superior?”
“I had hoped she would be taken at the end of a long, full life.” Her voice rang off the marble and glass, as if she were an actor performing for a crowd. “Forgive me for not telling you, my lady. I thought to permit you to devote your attention to your throne.”
“You must have known how her loss would affect me.” She forced it to be quiet, measured, though the abbess surely must have been expecting an outburst. Dominilde did not have Annys’s easy calm, but she was a creature of the court, and she knew how to set a trap. The abbess couldn’t hear the way her heart was pounding against her ribs. Only Dominilde could. “You must have seen how I had come to rely upon her.”
“We all have our time.” She sounded as if she truly believed it. “We will grieve Annys, even as we celebrate the arrival of Veifrea on our earth. If she has chosen now to arrive, there is a reason.”
“There must be,” Dominilde agreed, the words sour in her mouth. “I confess I do not know what it could be.”
The abbess’s grip on her shoulder tightened. “The disciples of Veifrea have spent many decades theorizing about what might inspire her to take a mortal form. If you desire counsel…”
“I never took orders,” Dominilde reminded her. Not that the abbess would have wanted her to. A nun couldn’t be queen. “You possess knowledge that I do not. I don’t wish to infringe upon the secrets of your order, but — “
“For Annys, and for Barviel, and for Veifrea, I will be glad to tell you.” Her voice glittered with the same fevered light that bounced off of every corner in the solarium. “The sun brings light and life to all who live upon the earth. She is the foundation of our world. For many years, too many peoples have taken her gifts for granted. Veifrea’s arrival can only be for the purpose of revitalizing her worshippers, beyond what little her mortal disciples can achieve in her absence.”
Dominilde’s jaw ached from being clenched shut. She inhaled through her nose, slowly, silently, let the air fill her lungs steadily. It didn’t help.
“It is a most auspicious beginning to your reign,” the abbess continued. “Veifrea has shown her approval by inhabiting a Vessel to walk with you.”
“Will she?” It came out curt.
The abbess considered it, then said delicately, “The natural place for a Vessel is with their disciples, of course. And the palace is many days’ travel from Montlinet Abbey.”
Of course.
“However, there is no reason why she should be restricted to the grounds of Montlinet — not when we could spread our rays to cover the world,” the abbess said. “The Vessel could make her home here, at the heart of her new realm, at the heart of yours, and your futures could be intertwined in a way that I think Annys would have wanted.”
Dominilde bit the inside of her cheek to hold her tongue. This was exactly what she’d expected, exactly what she’d known to expect, and she’d been ready to hear it.
But the abbess did not have any right to speak to what Annys might have wanted.
None at all.
“I am sorry,” the abbess said. “I know the pain of losing her must still be very fresh. Was it in battle that she fell?”
“That’s not important.” Dominilde twisted her hands together in her lap, tightly enough that her fingers throbbed. “My apologies, that wasn’t the matter I intended to request your help with at all. I am afraid all of this has taken its toll upon me.”
“That is understandable, my lady. Do not be afraid to ask for my assistance. I and all of the disciples of Veifrea will always be ready to aid you in any way.”
Dominilde shrugged the abbess’s hand off of her shoulder, shifted to face her. The abbess couldn’t see more than the outline of her face through her veil, which was made of the dense lace of deep mourning, but turning would do to convey the significance of what she was about to say. “There is one thing that only you can do for me.”
“Anything.”
“Leave my palace and never return.”
The words landed like the blow that they were. The abbess reeled backward — then collected herself enough to shape two pinched words. “My lady?”
So Dominilde had taken her by surprise. That was good. She hadn’t expected the abbess to anticipate this, but she’d also learned not to underestimate the abbey. The disciples of Veifrea were not easily fooled.
But after Annys, Veifrea had seen fit to withdraw her favor. Not that the abbess knew anything about that.
Dominilde turned to face forward again, addressed her remarks to the solarium, even though they were the only two people in it. “How did an order of nuns defeat an aristocratic family with six years’ time to strengthen their rule over Barviel? Why did you even try to help me retake the throne, when you seemed so utterly outmatched?” It should have been a fool’s errand. House Angouver had every advantage over Montlinet Abbey. A clear-eyed disciple of Veifrea never should have thought supporting Dominilde was a good idea. Unless, of course, they stood to gain no matter who won. “Annys swore to protect me. What better way for a saint’s host to die young, at the height of her strength?”
“My lady, you are seeing enemies in every shadow,” the abbess said. “I fear your mind is overexerted. You need to rest.”
Her mind had never felt clearer. Everything had clicked into place with grim, cynical satisfaction — and now she could throw her conclusions in Montlinet’s face. “With a Vessel walking the earth, and a queen incapacitated by grief, you could have inspired a new era of devotion to Veifrea. I might have asked my trusted guardians for counsel on matters of state. I would have honored Veifrea in the form of Annys, and that honor would have strengthened your order, given you what you needed to spread your doctrine, perhaps even brought you back down from the mountains — you were sent there by my grandfather to learn restraint, were you not? As was I.”
“Really, Your Highness.” It was sharp and disapproving, a tone that might have made someone else feel guilty. “You would turn your back on your staunchest allies on the strength of mere speculation? This is not the behavior of a queen. I know you know better.”
“You sheltered me during the reign of the usurper and helped me reclaim the throne, and for that your order will be rewarded.” There had to be a peace offering. Barviel had seen enough war recently. Dominilde couldn’t begin her reign by inciting another. “As you yourself say, balance is necessary. You came to my aid, and I have judged that sufficient recompense for the treason you committed by placing an enemy on the throne for me to defeat.”
The abbess was silent.
Dominilde let her think. Montlinet had not been careful enough; signs of its support of the coup had been all over the palace. Or, more precisely, all over the palace’s treasury records. There had also been books on Veifrea taking pride of place in the royal library, and the solarium dedicated to her was pristine, scrupulously maintained — which was odd, when it was well-known that the disciples of Veifrea were sheltering the last member of the royal family, the greatest danger to House Angouver’s rule. That was supposedly why they’d had to flee the abbey and make their base in an abandoned fortress, although the feared attempts on Dominilde’s life had never come to pass. Not even once.
The head of House Angouver had also done Dominilde the courtesy of copying a letter from the abbess into the chronicles of his reign. She’d affirmed Veifrea’s support for his rule and suggested that he deal with the last heir of the royal family by inviting her to swear fealty to him and end her exile.
That invitation had been Dominilde’s opportunity to get inside the palace and reclaim the throne.
And if she’d done what the abbess had no doubt expected — if she’d wilted after losing Annys, retreated into grief and relied on her allies to arrange peace — she never would have noticed just how easy it had been to reclaim.
“Be wary of your emotions,” the abbess said finally, in a voice as chilly and bright as the mountain peaks at noon. “I maintain that our order has always been loyal to you, and I hope you will not repay us with mistrust.” She stood, slow, spine straight. “Farewell, your highness. If you truly desire me to go, I will leave, with Veifrea’s Vessel, after I have fulfilled my duties at your coronation. Montlinet Abbey will always be ready to offer aid, should your pride permit you to request it.”
“I advise you against celebrating the arrival of Veifrea’s Vessel.” Dominilde raised her voice slightly — pitched it to carry across the entire solarium. It wouldn’t do to shout, but someone listening at a door would hear her easily. “I’m afraid you’ll seem a dreadful fool. And there’s no need to stay for my coronation.”
A door opened.
She didn’t turn her head, or raise her veil. She already knew who had entered.
“Hello, Mother Superior,” Annys said tonelessly. She had not taken well to the discoveries they’d made, to the picture Dominilde had assembled from the puzzle pieces given to her by Annys and by Veifrea herself. “The Sun-Saint refused to descend to our world. She did not wish to become a weapon for disciples that desired to abuse her gifts for their own gain. Montlinet Abbey no longer has her patronage. Veifrea has charged me with founding a new order.”
And Dominilde raised her veil, so that the abbess could see her smiling.
---
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, I'd really appreciate a reblog. You can also support my writing on Ko-fi!
popping in to say that the ebook of rainfall will be 50% off on smashwords for the entire month of july - it's part of their annual summer/winter sale, so if you're the type of person who likes ebooks and getting things at a discount, you are in luck!
there are going to be a ton of ebooks on sale, all of which you'll be able to find here: https://www.smashwords.com/shelves/promos/
you can find rainfall in the $2.99 and under category (it'll be $2.49) starting july 1. happy reading!
popping in to say that the ebook of rainfall will be 50% off on smashwords for the entire month of july - it's part of their annual summer/winter sale, so if you're the type of person who likes ebooks and getting things at a discount, you are in luck!
there are going to be a ton of ebooks on sale, all of which you'll be able to find here: https://www.smashwords.com/shelves/promos/
you can find rainfall in the $2.99 and under category (it'll be $2.49) starting july 1. happy reading!
rainfall extras: you take my breath away (derogatory)
(yes i decided to keep that title i like it lmao, i struggle enough with titles normally that when i have a good idea for one i am Not going to just let it go)
this is a missing scene from Rainfall (book 1)! also, if you'd like to see ren's wanted poster, @leloqier did an amazing commission of it here.
*
Silan knew he was being followed. He'd hoped (stupidly, it would seem) that he'd be able to outpace the tiny person covered in an enormous dark brown cloak. Silan had much longer legs, and it was true that he was also wearing an unseasonably heavy cloak pulled half over his face, but at least it hadn't consumed his entire body. He was half convinced there was no person following him and it was just a cloak being controlled by a clother.
But he couldn't run forever. So when he'd gotten to the artisans' district, chosen a decent-looking back alley to have a breakdown in, and ducked into the deepest shadows he could find... well, he'd put it this way: he was disappointed but not surprised to find the exit blocked by that tiny person (or possibly animated cloak).
"Are you a weatherer?" the person asked.
Silan could not emphasize enough how much he was not in the mood. Every time he blinked he saw Gardeners' bodies, still smoking from lightning that Silan had called without even really meaning to. That he had called after Larai had struck him with lightning first.
So, yeah. It would seem that he was. But 'are you a weatherer' was the first part of one of the worse pickup lines he'd heard before, and he didn't feel like giving this person a straight answer, so...
"Because I take your breath away?" he grumbled.
"I mean, a little," the person said, unbothered. "I did just chase you across half the East Quarter. Look, are you the Chosen One or not, and did that lightning come from you, or did it not?"
"What does it matter to you?" Silan said, with a fair amount of suspicion. Sure, this person wasn't wearing green, but it would be easy enough for a Gardener to change their clothes.
"Ugh." The person pulled their hood back.
Silan immediately knew who he was talking to. There were only so many different faces on the wanted posters around Urbo, after all. And only one of those faces had the mismatched eyes, one dark, one light, that always left Silan feeling a little off-balance. They left him feeling that way now, as Elliren Lindair stared him down.
He'd thought Lindair would be taller.
"I see you know who I am," they said. "Guimond hates me, and the Spring is hunting me down, so hopefully that convinces you I'm not on their side. If it doesn't, you're just going to have to take my word for it until we run into some Gardeners and I can prove it. My friends and I could use someone like you. Our hideout is protected. The Spring won't be able to find you there. What do you say?"
"No."
Lindair blinked. "What?"
"No," Silan repeated, feeling stronger about it now. "I'm not fighting in some kind of rebellion."
"We're taking the country back from the Spring." One of Lindair's feet was tapping impatiently on the paving stones. "With the Chosen One on our side, we're practically guaranteed to win. How far are you going to get on your own? You should come with me."
There was a hint of glitter to those words that set Silan's teeth on edge. If Lindair was a charm leading a rebellion, then no fucking wonder the Spring was after them.
He had to end the conversation before Lindair decided using magic to persuade him was the right way to go. So he gritted his teeth. "I said no. Fuck off."
Lindair folded their arms. "No."
Great.
The longer this took, the more Silan would be delayed in getting to the Hamadys'. Not that he planned to stay for long—he'd be out of there by morning, no matter what Aurie said—but getting there after curfew would be tough. The shadows were already lengthening. Silan didn't have much time to convince Lindair to go away.
But Lindair was trying to defeat the Spring.
That was what Aurie wanted to do, too.
Silan could make this work.
"Find my sister," he said. "We're twins, it shouldn't be hard." The strong resemblance between them used to make him irritated and uncomfortable, and there were still times when it did, but now he was just glad for the convenience of it.
"Yeah, I saw her before you split up," Lindair said. "Red shawl, right?"
"You were there?" A knot of something twisted in Silan's stomach. If Lindair had been there, had seen what Silan could do, and was still trying to recruit him...
It definitely wasn't the kind of rebellion Silan wanted to be a part of.
"Of course I was there." Now they seemed annoyed. "There was a lightning strike. That wasn't going to go by unnoticed. I hauled ass over to the East Quarter to get to you before the Spring did. They're after you too. Your other options aren't great."
"I'll handle that," Silan bluffed. "Don't bother with me. But my sister doesn't have any magic. We split up so I could lead the Gardeners away. If they followed her instead..."
"She'll be worse off than you, yeah." Lindair gave a strong impression of only giving half a fuck what happened to Aurie, but that was good enough. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Get to her before they do. She wants the Spring gone too. She'll help you. And, uh..." Silan dug around in his bag and found a scrap of paper and a stick of charcoal. "Give her this."
It didn't take long to write out the note. Signing it felt a little like sealing his fate, whatever that might be.
But Silan couldn't just jump into a rebellion with no plan. He had to figure out what he was doing. He had to figure out if destroying the Spring was even what Larai wanted. If he found out that all he was good for was deadly lightning strikes, then sure, he'd think about joining up. But for now... he couldn't make himself do it. Not after the bodies he'd already left.
He folded it and handed it to Lindair, who stuck it in a pocket without so much as glancing at it. "So you're set on it, then? You're running away?"
"Fuck off," Silan repeated.
"Fine, I will." Lindair glowered at him. "Enjoy your shirking. Where do I find your sister?"
"She's heading straight for the Hamady house in the Old Settlement. I told her I'd meet her there before curfew. Do you know it?"
"Do I know—yes, dumbass, everyone knows the Hamady house." They pulled their hood back over their face. "Guess I'll just run across half the East Quarter again. The Spring likes to use people as leverage, you know. Your sister probably would've been safer if she'd stuck with you."
And with that, Elliren Lindair was gone in a swirl of dark fabric, off to continue doing whatever it was they did that made the Spring hike up the reward money for their capture every week or so.
Silan put the stick of charcoal back into his bag and tried to breathe.
He was committed. He'd leave Urbo, get some space, and figure out what the fuck was going on with his powers and Larai. Then he'd do whatever it was they wanted him to do. And then he'd... what? Go back to Urbo, where they'd undoubtedly still be looking for him? Go home to Rowa and explain his sudden reappearance, without Aurie, to their parents?
Whatever. That was a problem for future him. Right now, he had to get out of the city.
thanks sm for the tag @magic-is-something-we-create!! here is a chunk instead of a line because i didn’t feel like restraining myself lol
“He doesn’t know how having magic works.” Ren found himself pacing. Corporal magic was finicky, as a rule—he didn’t know what sort of tricks Rashana employed to keep hers in line, but she had to have them—and nobody was exactly an expert on how nature magic worked, since it was so rare, but how different could they really be? There were always consequences for not managing it properly. “He’s just throwing all of it at the sky every chance he gets and not resting enough in between, and if he dies then Liss and Aurie will both be upset, although for slightly different reasons, I think.”
Rashana was leaning against the wall, watching him go back and forth with her eyebrows still sky-high. “How long did it take you to figure out how to keep your magic under control?”
“Too long, that’s why I have the cloak.” It wasn’t perfect, but charm relied on other people’s perception—making sure other people couldn’t see him under the cloak had helped minimize the effects of uncontrolled magic when he was little.
“Uh-huh. And he’s had magic for, what, a month?”
Rashana was, unfortunately, right. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Maybe it was a natural result of being the eldest.
i honestly do not know which of my followers have wips so! if you’re writing something consider yourself tagged, i’d love to see what you’re working on!!
okay after a lot of *insert attempting to spell yiddish words with the latin alphabet* you can FINALLY actually see paperback copies of rainfall as an option on the barnes & noble website!
They’re currently up on Amazon and processing on my non-Amazon distributor, so if you’re looking to get a print copy from somewhere other than Amazon, give it a few days.
You can go here to purchase a print book or ebook (the page links to every online retailer where you can get a copy)!
Rainfall is WLW YA/NA fantasy featuring bladesexuals, dumbass rights, People Who Identify As Tired™, and women who would play rugby in a modern AU. Come for the blacksmiths and princesses and magic, stay for the banter and the found family. I’ve also got a more thorough About Rainfall page on my blog.
I’ll end this post in my customary way: if you’ve read Rainfall, please, please rate and/or review it! I’m publishing with a teeny-tiny press so I don’t have the PR/promotional might of one of the big publishers, and word-of-mouth (like reblogging this post!) and reviews are the best way to spread the word.
Also, a note--if you haven’t snagged a copy yet, putting Rainfall on your to-read list(s) on sites like Goodreads and Storygraph is also a great way to help me out!
They’re currently up on Amazon and processing on my non-Amazon distributor, so if you’re looking to get a print copy from somewhere other than Amazon, give it a few days.
You can go here to purchase a print book or ebook (the page links to every online retailer where you can get a copy)!
Rainfall is WLW YA/NA fantasy featuring bladesexuals, dumbass rights, People Who Identify As Tired™, and women who would play rugby in a modern AU. Come for the blacksmiths and princesses and magic, stay for the banter and the found family. I’ve also got a more thorough About Rainfall page on my blog.
I’ll end this post in my customary way: if you’ve read Rainfall, please, please rate and/or review it! I’m publishing with a teeny-tiny press so I don’t have the PR/promotional might of one of the big publishers, and word-of-mouth (like reblogging this post!) and reviews are the best way to spread the word.
what is UP folks, i am back from the dead (jk my semester’s just almost over so i have more time for author social media) to hint that something cool and rainfall-related is coming!! stay tuned for updates, insert eye emoji here
ok i now actually have a vague timeframe, THE COOL THING WILL BE ANNOUNCED IN EARLY JUNE but if you do some digging around you can probably figure out what it is now
most of the characters in rainfall never actually set foot in a kitchen on the page, but because the vast majority of them are 19 or 20, they mainly range from hopeless cooks (liss) to ‘i can make. 2 things. one of them is dessert’ (aurie)
what is UP folks, i am back from the dead (jk my semester’s just almost over so i have more time for author social media) to hint that something cool and rainfall-related is coming!! stay tuned for updates, insert eye emoji here
i’m so glad cly gets more screen time in this book (that’s not something that’s impacted by the rewrite) because they just burst onto the scene on pg 1 with ‘i hate talking to people so fucking much’ so naturally i’m gonna make them talk to people. but it’ll be great
