#faimen

[thequeendomhq]

THE PORT ~

NAME. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. UTP SPECIES. Faimen FACTION. Merchant's Guild OCCUPATION. UTP

Just a touch, a few whispered words, and that was all it took. Usually, anyways. The stubborn ones liked to resist, the aware were nearly impossible. But convincing someone to take a bribe? Assuring someone who already wanted to think you were innocent, that you were? Simple. Child’s play. You were a child when this gift of yours appeared, child of Lysara, born with the knowledge that in the realm only next to your own there were people like you who were made to suffer. You were born upon the sea, the tides around your ankles, the ships moored in your ports. How difficult could it be? You had to ask yourself this, ask yourself what the consequences would be if you were to get caught. It was a noble, selfless, and romantic idea that began as a day dream, but in time grew as you pieced together the practicality. Trader and merchant, all you needed was access to a ship, and something of value to stack the hull. Easy wasn’t how you’d put it, raiders didn’t do anything for free, and ports were inspected at either end. Witchers stood at the ready and you told yourself that if you helped even one person to safety, then that would mean something. From somewhere in Iskaldrik a Nightingale would sing, then in Bjarnheim you’d know where to be and when. If a guard asked too many questions you offered a light touch, a smile, and a promise that there was nothing to be seen here.

CONNECTS

N/A

NOTES

ABILITY: Mental Suggestion: The ability to suggest a thought or an idea to someone through physical touch.

this skeleton is currently closed

[felandcris]

@tamlenx location: Brave New World notes: twink recruitment

"You'll die if you go rushing in there." In the distance the leaves on the silver trees of Telperion swayed without the aid of any wind. Above the blood orchard was one of the flying cities of the Great Old Ones. Manufactured, controlled, powered, and manipulated by virtue of the faimen that were trapped within. The largest of any, the size of it was incomparable to any monument or city previously known to the mortal realm. Tamlen was a warder, a nuisance in the battle by virtue of his blood, but powerful. Power was not something they could afford to lose haphazardly, "Worse, actually. They'd plant you alongside the rest of our kind."

[raffaelexfiore]

@atticusbriggs​ location: Just A Bite notes: blood blood blood slut

Nervous was the last word that Raffaele would use to describe how he felt here, blood was maybe one of the things that the witch was most comfortable around. The vampire in question that he came across was sat alone in one of the back rooms, apparently waiting for someone to find him because he looked lost. Like someone had taken a lion and dropped it on a raft in the middle of the ocean. The guy is sat down as Raffaele lingered in the doorway, languid frame pressed against the frame as some familiar face remarked towards him from down the hall before he offered them a bright smile and easy wave. Even from the vampire’s seated positioned Raffaele could tell he was maybe 5′6 or 5′7 on a good day. Witches weren’t as intoxicating as fey, but Raffaele had learned that everyone had their preferences. They were relative to some degree to a blood witch, eladrins and faimen made vampires trip out but were highly addictive, demons fell somewhere in the same vein but came with an explosive boost of power.

Raffaele had long surmised that witches were the perfect medley of satisfying and alluring without triggering any dependency, all while making vampires stronger and faster without any drawbacks to speak of. It was one of the many reasons why he was so popular here. 

“You look lost.” Raffaele commented before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, he wished there was a spell to let him see the other’s bloodline, but the only one that came to the Narcissus’ mind required some of the vampire’s actual blood. “You want help finding your way?”

[emmawrxght]

@emorystarling​ location: Farenduil’s Cabin notes: Do not stand by my grave, and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep

Micah was outside, he’d been the one to bring her here. Chopping wood they didn’t need for a fire in the wood stove that was already well supplied. Some faint hope perhaps that whatever magic their father had placed upon it might be enough to stave off the inevitable. Her brother had always known more than he let on, it was in his nature, clairvoyant as he was. In the end there wasn’t room left in her for bitterness, Micah was trying and she saw that. She made him promise not to blame Aurora for this but faimen couldn’t lie and her brother hadn’t been able to respond. 

The senate was gathering but Emma was too weak to move now, the magic Elessar had supplied her with was quickly exhausted. It had a detrimental effect, it seemed. Refueling a muscle and then depleting it immediately after had left Emma worse than when she’d started. Rowan didn’t deserve to see this, neither did Gabriel. She thought it would be best if she simply disappeared. Her mother was on her way to Rome, calling her was a kindness that Emma had permitted Micah to make. That way she could say goodbye, even if it was painful, even if it hurt. Aurora was gone to some dungeon of horrors, Meryasek was king, but for all his power there was nothing her uncle could do. There was nothing anyone could do.  

Emory was in the doorway and a weak smile graced Emma’s features as her head lolled across the pillow of her father’s bed to face him. Farenduil had not been told yet, but she suspected he knew, she suspected that he would be here soon. She hoped that meant that she would be able to say goodbye to him then. She hoped she made it that long. Perhaps it was better if their first dance was also their last, in her own way Emma had said farewell to them then - though in truth she’d imagined she would have more time. 

“Hey, Em.” The sound of an axe hitting wood punctuated the background as Micah swung and split logs to keep his hands busy. At least he was here, at least he wasn’t in a ditch somewhere. Maybe he really had changed. Emma regretted much of what she’d said to him now. She tried to lift her head but the effort was beyond what her body would allow, so the weak smile faltered as her eyes began to shine. The sun was warm as it filtered through the window, it felt good to feel it upon her face, at least she had that. She’d lived so long in the dark, if this was where she were to go then it was better in the light. 

[raventeresi]

A CONTRACT FROM THE HARE... Objective: Recover the Silver Feather, a rare trinket lost by a careless noble during a high-stakes festival race. A note from the Hare: "Speed is our greatest ally. You’ll need to be quick, but more importantly, you’ll need to be unseen. The Silver Feather is a symbol of victory, crafted by the hands of an ancient artisan, and it’s been pocketed by an aristocrat too clumsy to keep hold of his prize. It’s now locked away in his personal vault within his manor in Eterna, but the guard changes every five minutes—like clockwork. I want that trinket back in the guild before the city wakes. And remember— don't get caught." LOCATION: Eterna, Lysara.

@eivorxelvhen

Raven was already within Eterna with no intention to leave when she heard of the Darkspawn attacks at a neighboring city, her breath had felt stilled in her chest ever since. She couldn't bring herself to sacrifice her life with no one to remember her or without knowing that it would bring divine intervention. She had felt restless so when she received the challenge by the Hare, it was with satisfaction that she had a mark. The Hare was the one that she took most of her missions from, she was a thief and had always been. The faimen blood that coursed through her veins allowed for her to be light-footed, with heightened awareness and her paralyzing touch devastated anyone who tried to stop her in her crimes.

Even as she claimed a life of solitude and to care for protecting her own skin first, she was a wild thing and yet still needed a place to belong. Being a part of the Thieves guild didn't invite warmth but it brought accomplishment, it often meant slashing the rich at their knees and she would always take delight in that.

The instructions for where the manor was that kept the Silver Feather locked away was not disclosed, it was through connections that she had in the underground dark corners of Eterna that guided her towards where she needed to be. Dark eyes took in the grand slope of the gilded rooftop and statues that remained motionless over the lawn. Aristocratic wealth made her sick as so many starved in the streets and the refugees had nothing more than what they could carry from their burnt and captured land, she took the challenge of taking from those who would spend the rest of their days in comfort and luxury.

The world slept around her in the hours between dusk and dawn, darkness fell lightly over the slumbering household and yet she could see clearly through the bewitching hour. She wouldn't enter through doors, but would take the upper window. Bojangles had flown upwards towards the intended window and with a silent opening of his beak, indicated that the way forward was clear.

She had slept in trees off the Highway, a higher perch meant a clear view and less risk of an attack with being vulnerable on the ground. Climbing wouldn't be a challenge for her as she scaled up the gutters to crouch outside the windows, she had gained much dexterity from dismantling carriages that travelled through the forested area, having to disarm the driver of the couch, she was use to attacking from the skies.

A thin wire managed to slip in between the gap of the wood and with a wiggle, she jimmied the latch to swing open. A quick brush of her hand over any sensor that might have given her away and the mechanic was paralyzed before she crushed it underneath her heel. The guard were destined to change soon, another drink before they would stand for hours circulating the glass case that held the feather within the secured vault.

Relying on her natural gifts at a Faiman, she enters the room before the shift change without notice until she creeps behind the guard and with a touch upon his bare skin, she takes his ability to move or cry for help. Raven's touch paralyzed the body but their eyes always move and with a rapid search, he tried to find who held him captive within his own body but she was a shortie and hidden behind him. With a hard kick to the back of his knees, she brings him to the floor. Placing his helmet over his face, she drags him by the collar, having taken her daily protein into the closet that doubles as a toilet and locks him within.

Now there was only the guard actively and currently on duty to deal with, she relied on Bojangles to swoop in and with the disturbance of her crow friend flying into a closed room, she was able to creep upon the guard. Disarming him from behind, his limbs were no longer his to control, she wasn't a puppeteer but she was capable of paralyzing them where they stood. Feeling defenseless without the capacity to move his own bones, his lips couldn't crack open to scream and with a hard knock of her elbow into his spine, he toppled and in the fall before he could regain his ability to move, she latched her hand over his eyes and with her thumb brushing his temple immobilized him, dragging him to snuff him into awaiting chest filled with soft linen. He'd be in a comfy coffin which locking him inside was similar to being buried alive, his knocks to be let out fell on deaf ears. It was his fault for signing up for the job he did, he served the rich and would suffer for it.

The guards were disarmed and the feather was hers for the taking as she quietly lifted the glass case that held it within, she didn't wear gloves as she needed the bare touch of her hand to disarm any human or machine that she encountered. She exited the building the same way that she entered with a half n hour before the sun would begin to rise. She didn't care for keeping her stolen prize, it was better off from the noble's inventory and she valued her thieves guild. Hoping to keep them happy, proud and pleased with her work.

It was a lone walk back inside the bustling hub of the city, the town still slumbered as Raven and her crow walked along. Finding the statue of Mercury that marked the secret entrance into the hideouts of the thieves, she placed the feather in the inbox of the Hare. A golden statue that represented the higher order, she knew that none of the thieves would be bold enough to take from the higher trio. It would be a fool's mistake to make enemies of them all. It gave her purpose and distracted her from the wounded and worried, she wasn't born with a healing touch but one that was meant for the taking.

[titaniaoftheseasons]

@marscfwar location: Haven notes: kiss kiss

It's borrowed time at best, anyone with sense can see that, but happiness, even if momentary is invaluable. The more Haven grew, the surer it was that the eye of the Great Old Ones would fall upon it. Her sons were all held captive, her people, the faimen she'd failed once before, and this realm she had poured her heart into terraforming all hung in the balance. On a balcony that overlooked the ocean, Titania stood there as she looked out at the churning tides. The salt in the air reminded her of that day with Mars, when she had told him what it was she'd done to their son, and the betrayal that had caused the rift between them.

In the great distance, a city of Elysian gold floated above the water, miles and miles away, but the lack of haze made it impossible to determine just how far it was. Somewhere within faimen were being forced to use their powers constantly as the empire of the Great Old Ones only continued to grow, beneath was garden of blood, silver forests where roots were fed by the bodies of her sons and her people.

"Will you ever forgive me?" Titania asked, she did not have to look to know that he approached. Would anyone? The golden prosthetic curled gilded digits over the corner of the railing, she had tried for so long. Thousands of years of effort, thousands of years of mistakes, nothing she did now would wipe the slate clean; Titania was a shell that was filled with nothing but virulent purpose.

[theportaraceli]

Lorien’dal is not one of Araceli’s usual haunts. As much as the city fascinates her, she has never found herself well at ease amidst the waves upon waves of silver elvhen and faimen that made the capital of the Silverlands their home. The city is a reminder of the line she is threading between mortality and immortality, between her mother’s legacy and her father’s choice. The citizens mingling around, the glimpses of high elvhen in the crowds… They ask questions that she is not ready to answer, putting the conflict between duty and choice in the forefront of her mind when she would rather think about anything else. Still, she can’t keep away for too long either, fascinated by the silver elvhen culture and the city itself. It was on those visits, more than on her time playing the Game, that she had caught a glimpse of Lady Elenweyr. 

Seeing the silver elvhen again, behind the counter of the Wildflower Well had been a surprise, but one that had urged her curiosity forward until she found herself browsing through the wares, waiting for an opportunity to strike conversation. Araceli is unsure as to whether the Lady Elora recognizes her, seeing as they didn’t tend to spend time in the same circles lately, but she supposes figuring that out is part of the fun. 

“Ruining their day would be the goal, yes,” she admits with a quirk of her lips and a playful shrug as she glances over her shoulders to send Elora a wink before focusing back on the flowers she was inspecting. She had been considering them for a while, trying to decide whether the Game player that had last gotten on her bad side deserved to get a warning before she set her plan to get her due into motion or not. “But perhaps I should use something more subtle? I don’t want to alert them that I mean business.”

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: open 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: the wildflower well

Tucked dutifully behind the front counter and pleasantly warmed by the mild humidity that always filled the shop, Elora maintained watch over her post. Sometimes she thought she might have made a good florist. A real one, who relished the feeling of the soil beneath her fingertips, breathing in the loamy musk of a fresh morning’s dew. Instead, she loathed the mud and cursed all that dragged her from her bed before sunrise, regardless of the fact the sun's rays would already find her awake. No, for now, she was masquerading as a florist. The flowers were beautiful, the customers genuine, yet she couldn't shake the feeling of toiling away at something that wasn't quite hers. No matter how many flowers she tended or weeds she pulled from the small garden that backed the shop, no task was arduous enough to shake the weight of the obligation that waited just beyond the horizon. 

The rest of her days were left free to people watch and attend to orders, only intervening when her opinion of one variety of monstera over another was called into question. However, it wasn’t all a loss, and spectating often led to her favorite circumstance: when someone who understood plant symbolism encountered someone woefully unaware of its existence. A magenta petunia given to beguile was received as a declaration of resentment.

A glance up from the inventory list revealed what appeared to be a burgeoning situation amongst the begonias. They were alone; there would be no one to stop them from their blunder. Unfortunately, that only served as a means of entertainment when she could witness the fallout. ❝ Are you looking to make someone’s day or ruin it? ❜ she called over to them, nodding to the fragrant blooms. ❝ Because those are a bad omen, especially the orange ones. ❜

[zahryaofdawn]

where?: tbh i just kinda pictured him popping out of a flower to say hi like any crazy uncle would, idk rome i guess

✿*° ‘° ･

Zahrya’s pity for the faimen had been rejuvenated thanks to recent events. Of course, he couldn’t care less about the fate of other halfbloods, but mortals who shared his heritage at least warranted an inkling of his compassion. Cloe and all who were born like her would be caught in the crossfire because war was inevitable. Siding with the senate or opting to stay neutral would get them killed because it seemed fewer and fewer eladrin were interested in sewing seeds of peace. At the very least, Zahrya wasn’t. “You should really accept my offer. The only place for you in this realm is within the forest. Forget the past, forget your heritage, we noble eladrin are ushering in a new age for your kind. You, blessed child, are wanted. And if you don’t choose us, the blood that runs in the streets of Rome very well may be yours.” Elessar’s considerable lifespan was a testament to his ability, but he was still just a faiman. He was limited and weak, but leaning more into his feyblooded nature may be the key he needs to eternally distance himself from his sullied human half. “Within the forest, I can keep you safe. Out on your own though ...  you’re either an ally or an enemy. The middle ground has been destroyed because that is the lot our enemies have left us with.”

@xelessarx​

[thequeendomhq]

THE GUARDED ~

NAME. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. UTP SPECIES. Faimen FACTION. UTP OCCUPATION. UTP

The Blight always seemed to rear its ugly head when the times were already tough. And you always thought that when the going got tough, the tough got going - but you stayed, for some reason. You’d watched your mother succumb to a desire demon – she’d been a Silver Elvhen long having left the light of the Laurelin, while your father, a High Elvhen, took the brunt of the demon’s attack. It was only your mimicry that saved you, taking hold of your father’s ability to finish off the demon that had torn your little family apart so quickly. When you emerged from the house, the only survivor, your village told you to leave. They wanted nothing to do with the Blight, you had blood and darkness on your hands, so you had no choice. Ostracized, you left the North and traveled South. You found many didn’t believe you when you spoke of the Blight, of the creatures you’d seen, of the horrors you witnessed with your own parents – you found people liked to play blind instead of open their eyes. You wouldn’t stick around to see their fate, no, you would find your own path, no matter how often you hear the whispers of Desire calling your name.

CONNECTS

N/A

NOTES

ABILITY: Mimicry: Ability to mimic the abilities of another through physical touch.

this skeleton is currently open

[maeda-mic]

Faimen様の楽曲「Eisei」に作品を提供させていただきました。 心に響く、とても気持ちの良い作品です。 是非聴いてみて下さい。

----------------------------------------------------- 「Eisei」 ◆Youtube https://youtu.be/gmRCHSriR-A ◆soundcloud https://soundcloud.com/faim_en/eisei

[Music] Faimen (@faim_E_n) ・SoundCloud https://soundcloud.com/faim_en

[Illustration] 前田ミック/Mic Maeda (@m_mic_0707) -----------------------------------------------------

[celayawitcher]

Celaya immediately tensed the moment Araceli crowded her on the balcony; it's a reaction based off of instinct and not wrought from fear, the witcher can't say that she ever thought Araceli would possess even a fraction of the venom which came next. She came to the Lady with vulnerability, something that had once been tortured out of her at the Witcher's Keep until the magic drained not only from her blood but from her eyes and she was a dutiful enforcer, a killing machine.

Despite a ragged memory, that was one fact that had not changed, a snake could shed their skin but the serpentine creature that unearthed was still the same.

Celaya felt a hand slip up, something that felt cold and insincere, and though the Lady dared to speak, Celaya was not listening. Something within Araceli spoke of a sanguinary need to rectify something, but Celaya, even with her current debuffs, was not so easily extinguished. Musculature spoke of rigorous training that was years in the making and though Araceli held a firm grip on Celaya's throat, the witcher's hand slipped up behind the Lady to crack her face onto the outstretch of the balcony railing in tandem with Celaya's other arm swinging down to disarm the blockade Araceli attempted to form with her own person.

Blood graced the gray hue of the balcony railing, Celaya side stepping and retreating after pulling Araceli up from the damning blow, attempting to show this was not a war, simply a daring feat from Araceli which she must correct. She'd been a guest but she'd not be backed into a corner of fearful submission; she'd bite the hand that fed her even if she tore it clean off and relished in the blood. Celaya was calm, years of training imbued into muscle memory that so easily disarmed the faimen, and Celaya tried not to smugly smirk as her arms crossed, though the witcher's body still stood to attention, "Your threat shows just enough fear inside of you, Lady Araceli. I think I recall now that I don't respond well to threats." Fear was a wretched thing, fear was the little death, and if Araceli did not overcome her fear of the predator she let loose unto her home, then she would fall into total obliteration over it.

Silence follows Celaya’s startling confession as Araceli slowly processes exactly how much of a fool the Weave has made her. Head tilting, she watches Celaya expressionlessly for one long moment. A second passes, then another as she absorbs the information and a metaphorical switch flips. It’s as if all light fades from her eyes, but Araceli’s expression remains placid. 

“So it is as they say, no good deed goes unpunished,” she muses softly, the hint of a rueful smile on her lips as she stalks closer, a predator stalking prey. Carefully, she crowds the witcher against the railing, one hand reaching up to gently grasp her chin to keep her head in place as she places a tender kiss to Celaya’s forehead. It's a blessing of sorts, a quiet act of contemplation as Araceli prays to the elvhen gods that she has not made a terrible mistake by saving Celaya's life. It's a curse of sorts, a reminder for Celaya of all the tenderness she would lose if she chooses to follow the blind ideals of a nation born on pain. Araceli reaches up with her free hand, placing her hand against Celaya’s neck, her thumb lingering on the hollow of the witcher’s throat. Once the hand is in place, she pulls back from the forehead kiss and tightens her grip on Celaya’s throat.

Pulling back, she looks at Celaya cooly as a sharp, bloodthirsty grin spreads through her lips. 

“I hope you take my kindness and use it to take a new lease in life,” she begins to say, so very gently but so very coldly, words as sharp as the knives she always keeps in her person. “Otherwise, I will show you how little you scare me, and after? I will rectify the mistake I made on that beach.”

Araceli wholeheartedly believes in second chances, but if Celaya chooses to throw what she has freely given away? Well, she is a player in the Game, and she knows how to eliminate loose threads.

"Was that clear enough of a warning, dear guest?"

[zahryaofdawn]

where: the faerie queen’s forest who: open to eladrin & faimen

✿*ﾟ ‘ﾟ･

The forest wouldn’t begin to feel like home until the Eladrin began to treat it like home. Luckily, Zahrya was in an excellent place of mind today. He’s been contented to detach himself from his memories, and the realm beyond the forest at large. It’s helped him to reconnect to his old thoughts back when his greatest concern was making sure festivities were alive and to Her Majesty’s liking. Back before he learned what it was to grieve, or hate, or harm. 

Every feyblooded in Rome and the faerie realm received an invite to his feast. Within the spring’s gardens preparations were well underway. The blossom sprites were coating every inch of wood in flowers, willow leaves swayed in the wind to create clinking melodies as if made of glass, and Zahrya had creatures of all kinds bringing delicious Otherworldly food to the table for everyone to enjoy. He’s very much in his element planning this party, so much so that the early arrival of a guest is enough to get him in a bit of a tizzy. 

“You’re early, I said sunset,” he says, his approach warm regardless. Spring is joy and life, traits Zahrya exhibits in his beaming smile as he embraces the other. “I guess it’s fine, you get to see the party come to life!” Clearly he’s proud of the progress and more than happy to show it off. It’s unfortunate he can’t stay and watch them soak it all in. “I will have to depart soon. I must return to the maze and fetch Asterion. He’s never been to one of my court’s parties, but I think he would have fun! He may be a little shy at first, but he’ll warm up if everyone else is enjoying themselves, right? I know some may find his presence ... offensive, but I want him here. I may be growing into this new title of mine, but as Chancellor I should practice throwing my weight around more, especially if for his sake.”

[thequeendomhq]

THE FREE ~

NAME. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. UTP SPECIES. Faimen FACTION. UTP OCCUPATION. UTP

You’d never known your father; your mother and her sisters sometimes described him as a wandering merchant. In other stories he was a wounded soldier that had been passing through their woods. In every case, the core of the story remained the same: he had been around your mother for a time, and then he left before you were born. He wasn’t here, and you did not know him. The trees replaced a father figure; they were old and wise and had their lessons once you learned how to listen. The birds in their canopies, the tired bears crawling out of their den - this had to be how the world turned. You were hardly a child anymore by the time you saw a village with its towers dedicated to grain that you mistook for a castle. The city was another wonder, another mystery. You asked yourself at every turn if the man who’d never stuck around was among the faces in this crowd. The air rushed differently through the leaves than it did across the market; the clink of silver didn’t provide the same thrill as the veins that pumped beneath the ground. Bakers didn’t give away anything for free, but that didn’t stop you from starting to trace the lines around their discontent for anything that seemed familiar. He wasn’t here, and maybe you’d never find him, but just because the woods were behind you doesn’t mean they didn’t still live inside of you. Your mother told you that you had a choice: immortality in the light or mortality amidst those who had forgotten how to listen to the wind.

CONNECTS

N/A

NOTES

ABILITY: Seismic Sense: The ability to locate or detect beings and creatures through their movement in the earth.

[ezekielurquhart]

@bloodyrhiannon​

Halfbloodeds were his favourite. Faimen in particular, though they were hard to come across. Distantly they each reminded him of Remi and made him think about the night they’d spent getting passed between a vampire in the backroom of Rome’s blood bar. His fangs broke the other’s skin and the euphoric rush was instant, his nerves felt alive for the first time in weeks, that beautiful spark of life that was almost potent enough to make his heart start pumping again. Zeke’s frame quivered as he maneuvered his mouth for a better angle, he was still new at this and there wasn’t a single person he’d bitten whose neck hadn’t been left mangled when he was done. Zeke had fed more tonight than he had since he’d been turned, and when he pulled away it was to look at one of his pseudo-sires looking over him. “Oh- you want some?”

[lisajunsblog]

Cover Reveal * Laced with Fear * Hayley Faimen

Cover Reveal * Laced with Fear * Hayley Faimen

Title: Laced with Fear Series: Cash Bar Book 1 Author: Hayley Faiman Genre: MC Romance Release Date: April 23, 2018 Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs

A Notorious Devils Spin-off Series –  Ginger knows evil. She’s looked it straight in the eye. Now, she is determined to overcome her fears—one day at a time. Her life began again, with a second chance at love. Snake, the president of…

[kellysbookblog]

ARC for Chosen by the Badman Hayley Faimen

I received and ARC for this book for an honest review. Konny and Kiska!!!! I have a book hangover. I was really looking forward to this story. It was amazing. Konny was super alpha, possessive and hot. Kiska was strong willed and a great match for Konny. Their relationship was raw, gritty and real. This book did not disappoint. The story line sucked you in. I read this book cover to cover in 5 hours. As usual Hayley weaves her past characters into her stories so we get an update on how they are doing. Can't wait for whats next!!