UFI welcomes Author Lee Roland. Thanks for Joining us!!
World Building
Writers of the paranormal, be it romance or urban fantasy, excel at creating
new worlds for their stories. Medieval worlds, Sci Fi future worlds, dystopian
worlds, ethereal worlds wherein dwell the angels and demons—the possibilities
are endless. The modern world can have pockets where magic lives, but no one
sees except the heroes and heroines of our books. There can be vampires and
werewolves hiding among us. The alternate histories are intriguing, the worlds
where magic is revealed and the populace has to deal with it.
Thus far, my own world building has involved hidden magic within modern
society.
In Casual Curses & Meticulous Magic, the world is modern in Ashburn,
Florida. Ordinary city, magical underworld. Magic is dying and the witches are
fading. It’s up to Melian, the protagonist, to save the vital magic and her
people. She accepts her world as it is and moves through her problems, not
well, but with courage. Her world offers her friends and family to help. Her
magic comes from a distant place that she must seek for renewal.
The Earth Witches Series (NAL 2011-2013) again involves an ordinary city.
The magic lies in the Barrows, a section of town in ruins. The Barrows is
hidden from ordinary eyes, but the protagonists see it and its dark evil quite
well. Magic exists in the Earth Witches world, but not in the traditional form
as it does in Casual Curses. There are no spells, no potions. It comes from the
witch-warriors, the damaged souls who battle alone. Their magic rises from the
earth itself, deep and old, the first magic.
Urban fantasy, paranormal romance, each story will create a different world.
Those worlds, and there are as many as there are writers, are never ordinary.
Who wants ordinary when you can live in the fantastic?
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Lee Roland is a full time writer who lives in North Central Florida. She
loves the peaceful rural area where she shares a home with three small dogs who
think they are pit bulls and an evil cat with sharp claws.
Lee writes stories of urban fantasy and paranormal romance where strong men
and women battle the wickedness hiding under the surface of the modern world.
Her characters are passionate in life and love and are formidable enemies to
the malevolent criminals in their worlds.
Her first series, the Earth Witches, was published beginning in 2011 by NAL.
Her website, www.leeroland.com offers samples of the Earth Witches books and
information on their world. There are short stories and news of any upcoming
books and events.
Find Lee and her books
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Casual Curses and Meticulous Magic
Gramarye #1
Amazon
BN
Smashwords Books
A Million
What
happens when a dysfunctional witch and a tough PI work together to save
an aging apartment house filled with ghosts, dragons and one oversexed
house plant?
Spirits, spells and mayhem…Magic rises in the Gramarye
Melian Devlin is a witch who often resorts to exotic and slightly
illegal methods of acquiring money to maintain the 300-year-old
Gramarye, the stone apartment house that’s her heart and home. Her life
is a series of skirmishes that occasionally end with her behind bars.
Titus
Moran is a no-nonsense PI who makes big bucks busting insurance fraud
schemes. So how did he wind up in a tortuous battle to keep Melian out
of jail? Did the delightful young witch with her gray eyes and magic at
her fingertips enchant him—or does the Gramarye hold greater mysteries?
Titus
will enter a new exciting world when he joins Melian in her quest to
save the Gramarye. Melian will fumble along in her usual impulsive way,
leaving a trail of disasters behind her. If they’re lucky, they might
survive.
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Chapter 1
Melian Devlin considered her arrest late Friday evening an ill omen, a
portent of dire thingsto come. At the very least, it would ruin her weekend. Her
bad luck had continued after her arrest when she’d found herself standing before
Judge Franklin P.O. Merkle. Merkle’s exact words were, “You again?”
He’d set her bail at an obscene five thousand dollars.
Psychic readings weren’t illegal in the City of Ashburn, Florida, but selling
magic potions skirted the legal line of medicine, hence her arrest. And then
there was the sticky issue of not having a business license—again. Minor
infractions. So why did Merkle have such a burr up his ass? Maybe because he was
working late on Friday? The malicious cop with an aversion to psychics hadn’t
helped either.
Standing behind bars at ten o’clock that night, listening to her Great Uncle
Will royally chew her butt, confirmed Mel’s dismal assessment of the situation.
“Psychic?” Will’s deep voice rumbled the word. His tired eyes watched her
from a weather worn face. “Mel, honey, you ain’t no psychic. You’re a witch.
You’re supposed to use magic.”
He shook his head. “I understand why you can’t get a regular job, but can’t
you find something irregular you’re good at? Or at least something legal?” He
glanced over his shoulder and pitched his voice lower. “You should’ve marked a
cop soon as he walked in the door, then spelled him out of making an arrest.
You’re allowed basic self-defense. I taught you that.”
Mel winced at Uncle Will’s words. He had taught her. She was simply
incredibly incompetent at casting spells and making potions, and utterly
terrified of making a mistake. What if she hurt someone? Pretending to be a
psychic and selling a few harmless herbal elixirs was easier—and safer.
They’d put her in a simple holding cell inside the precinct station after
she’d seen the judge. The arrangement gave detainees a chance to post bail
before they moved them to the main jail downtown, something Mel had hoped to
avoid. Prospects didn’t look good.
The sparse cell had a single bench bolted to the floor and air filled with
the odor of acrid, nose-searing bleach. Her cellmates, two tough prostitutes,
sat on the bench staring straight at the wall. Imperfect witch she might be, but
she could still deal with the bullying they tried when she first came in.
“Will, please,” Mel begged. “Go talk to Milo for me. Give him an IOU. I’ll
get the money some way.” Milo the Bail Bondsman, her father’s second cousin,
usually handled her bail. Milo hadn’t returned any of her numerous calls.
“Yeah. Sure.” Will laughed, but it didn’t sound funny. “Gettin’ money some
way is what landed you here. I can hear Milo now. Cousin Melian? She told my
Granny Panopoulos to put all her money on a horse named Show-Too in the third
race and—”
“I told her thirty dollars to show on the number three horse, not… Oh, hell.”
She wrapped her hands around the bars to steady herself.
Granny Panopoulos had cried to Mel about not being able to pay her mortgage
and buy food in the same month. She figured Granny could lose thirty dollars and
learn an excellent lesson about the futility of gambling. How was Mel to know
the woman had fifty thousand dollars tucked in her mattress and a persistent
bookie looking over her shoulder? Oh, right, she was supposed to be a psychic.
“Okay, girl, here’s the deal.” Will shoved his hands in his pockets like he
always did when he had to deliver bad news. “I’ll get you out on Monday—”
“Monday?”
“Yep. I’m not going to call Milo on a Friday evening or ruin his weekend. And
I don’t trust anyone else.” Will’s head bobbed. His sorrowful expression tore at
her. His eyes remained bright and his mind-dagger sharp, but time had worn his
aging body. He loved her, and she shouldn’t have troubled him.
“Ya’ know Mel...” He sighed. “Honey, you’re twenty-seven years old. Couple of
days and nights in jail won’t hurt. ‘Bout time you learned a lesson. Past time,
in fact. While you’re there, think about having to stay longer, what might
happen then.” He turned and shuffled out of the room.
Mel leaned her forehead against the cold hard bars. What a stinking mess. She
wasn’t a true psychic, but the power, the magic she lived by, occasionally gave
her glimpses into the situations surrounding people. A haphazard thing she
couldn’t control, but between it and the potions, she made a little money—as
long as some cop with an attitude didn’t arrest her.
Mel had paid little attention when the nervous young man with dark, curly
hair entered her low-rent storefront room four hours ago. He had a sweet, shy
smile and almost pretty face. Not a hint of a cop in him. He paid her forty
dollars for a reading and asked her if he would ever find true love. His precise
words. “True love.” That alone should have tipped her off. She felt sorry for
him and tried to sell him a magic potion. Only a twenty-dollar mixture of
Vitamin B and Ginseng, but with the power of suggestion, it might be enough to
adjust his outlook on life. He was far too good-natured and attractive to be
alone. Then his partner had charged in and gleefully busted her. It didn’t take
much to make some cops happy.
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