Shadows of Asphodel Box Set: The Complete Trilogy  by Karen Kincy and Giveaway

Many, many reasons why I took this trilogy. First, the cover is great; the time-setting is unusual; no clue what dieselpunk means, and it made me curious; it’s alternate history, which I really enjoy; the Hero is a Necromancer. Because of all those reasons, I have this trilogy here today.

Shadows of Asphodel Box Set: The Complete Trilogy  by Karen Kincy (Shadows of Asphodel #1-3) Genres: Dieselpunk, New Adult, Romance


She never asked for the undying loyalty of a necromancer. Discover a fantasy romance set in 1913, a world of dark magic on the brink of war. This box set includes Shadows of Asphodel, Storms of Lazarus, and Specters of Nemesis.

“Fans of alternate history will enjoy Kincy’s lively and sensuous steampunk-influenced tale of a magical WWI.” – Publishers Weekly BookLife

“Shadows of Asphodel is a great, rollicking adventure with plenty of steam! Kincy’s world-building is some of the best.” – Bec McMaster, author of Kiss of Steel

“A gripping alternate history of World War I, filled with magic and swordfighting, steamy romance, and general badassery–a daring adventure you don’t want to miss!” – Chelsea M. Campbell, author of The Rise of Renegade X


ShadowsOfAsphodelBlitzBannerExcerpt  from Shadows of Asphodel:

“You feel so cold,” he said. “Shower. Now.”

Ardis could feel Wendel’s feverish desperation, and it was contagious. She followed him into the en suite bathroom. Her fingers unsteady, she unbuckled her scabbard and tossed her sword onto the carpet in the bedroom. He pulled her back into the bathroom. Laughing, shaking, she let him peel away her shirt.

“Help me,” he said. “I don’t want to rip your clothes—”

“Oh, I think you do.”

Ardis danced back before he could call her on her bluff. She wriggled out of her clothes and tossed them onto the floor. Wendel turned on the water in the shower and held his hand underneath to check the temperature. Rainwater dripped from his clothes and pattered on the tiles. She struggled with his waterlogged coat.

“Let me,” he said.

Wendel shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the floor, then shook his head and picked it up again. He brought the coat to the bedroom, and she realized he must be taking out Amarant and hiding the black dagger somewhere.

He returned with the tin of preventives held aloft. “Can’t forgot these.”

“These?” she said, with a teasing smile. “Plural? What makes you think—?”

He silenced her with a kiss, stopping only to strip naked and drag her into the shower. When the steaming hot water hit them, he closed his eyes and let out a moan of a sigh. He tilted back his head and let the water fall over his face.

“Better,” he said.

Wendel rubbed his hands over his face, then leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. His hair ran in black rivulets down his back. Ardis lathered the soap, then ran her hands along his shoulders. He let her massage away the tension still tight in his muscles. Her fingertips lingered on the scars crisscrossing his skin.

“Ardis,” he said.

She froze, afraid she had touched a scar he didn’t want to remember.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I—I can’t stop thinking about the catacombs.”

Ardis lifted her hands from his back. She felt an ache in the pit of her stomach.

Wendel turned around, his hair straggling in his face, and took the soap. Without looking at her, without saying a word, he rubbed the soap over his hands like they were still bloodstained. He stopped only to wash the rest of his skin, then returned to his hands, scrubbing under his fingernails to rid himself of imaginary dirt.

“Talk to me,” she said.

Wendel’s hands clenched around the bar of soap. “What is there to say?”

“You don’t like to touch the dead. You don’t like to feel anyone die.”

Wendel grimaced, and the soap squeezed out of his hand. He fumbled as he tried to catch it, and Ardis couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry!” she said. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…”

“It’s ridiculous, I know. I’m a necromancer. It shouldn’t bother me.”

Ardis shook her head. “If it didn’t bother you, I would worry.”

Wendel made a show of picking up the soap, though he looked at her with hesitant eyes.

“Help me forget,” he said.


Karen Kincy (Duvall, Washington) can be found lurking in her writing cave, though sunshine will lure her outside. When not writing, she stays busy gardening, tinkering with aquariums, or running just one more mile. Karen has a BA in Linguistics and Literature from The Evergreen State College and an MS in Computational Linguistics from the University of Washington. She is a member of RWA.

Find Karen on Twitter at @karenkincy
Sign up for Karen’s mailing list: http://eepurl.com/HeLSP

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