Mirror and Realms Books 1-10 - Super Offer

Ever been magnetized to a man who's as cold as ice yet burns like fire?

That's my tangled saga with Ciaran, the enigmatic CEO of a company I attacked with my words.

Buckle up, because that's where my tale begins.

I'm Madeline Roux, a journalist who likes to write with fire, and my latest muse is none other than Ciaran LeBlanc, the fortress-hearted pharmaceutical king.

Sounds like a classic battle of wits, right? But what happens when the supernatural twists the plot and drops the 'soulmate' bombshell?

Trust me, it's not something they teach you to handle in journalism school.

Ciaran's world is a labyrinth of secrets, heartache, and supernatural conspiracies.

His wounded soul needs a second chance at love. Not that he would admit to it.

And as for me? I'm in the eye of the whirlwind. I don't belong in his world, I know he hates me, yet, if I can't make him fall in love with me, I'll face the gods' wrath and the unimaginable consequences of it.

Think 'A Discovery of Witches' meets 'Outlander', throw in 'Once Upon a Time' for good measure with a sprinkle of a modern fairytale twist.

Welcome to our world, 'Mirror and Realms', where love isn't just a feeling, it's a story, it's destiny, it's the most potent magic.

And this, my friends, is just the beginning.

Chapter 13

Ciaran was still fuming as he swirled the last remnants of Scotch in his glass. He was five seconds from departing for the airport when Alanah informed him that someone from The Trumpet wanted to see him.

He had just insulted the editor-in-chief, threatened to destroy their business, and he fully intended to follow through with that threat if they didn't cooperate with his request.

Now, if anyone at The Trumpet wanted to tangle with him, he welcomed them all.

He looked up and there she stood, Madeline Roux, aka M.R. Cassidy, framed in the doorway. 

He mentally added a third item to his list of things he detested about New York: an oversized green knitted top.

She was tall and fit, if he had to guess at the physique beneath her unfortunately unappealing clothing. An intelligent face with big brown eyes that hinted at a stubborn streak. She wasn’t a showstopping beauty, but there was something about her undeniably attractive.

All in all, definitely not what he expected: a frumpy nerd.

“My apologies for interrupting, Mr. LeBlanc. I promise not to take up too much of your time.”

Now, that was a show-stopping voice - sultry - as smooth as honey - yet strong enough to command attention.

"It's Ciaran."

He stood, rounded the desk and pulled out a chair for her.

That wasn't an office etiquette, but rather a gentlemanly manner toward a lady. He was accustomed to that manner, although in this circumstance, a 'please sit down' statement would suffice.

She stayed standing.

He returned to his seat, settling in with ease. He tilted back in the chair, looking up at her with an ankle across a knee and hands clasped together.

"I'm here to discuss the article."

"Which one?"

"The one about your company. The revised edition."

He silenced her with a raised hand. "Allow me to spare you some time here. If I were you, I would say that I wrote a complimentary article about the LeBlanc. Unfortunately, there was a technical glitch in our system which caused the old and new versions of the articles to mix up. The unfavorable article sent  was not about LeBlanc but about one of our competitors, say GENE5."

She stared at him. "You expect me to come up with something different or do you want me to regurgitate what you just said to stroke your ego?"

“You think this is about ego, Ms. Roux? Pharmaceutical is a high-stakes industry—it's not just about money or ego. Unlike your business that only involves talks, we deal with life and death. GENE5 and LeBlancs operate on different principles; we may be cutthroat competitors in business, but we don't resort to sacrificing people for an advantage. I may believe our business is better than GENE5's, but I don't consider them idiots. And their manner of operation has nothing to do with gender. So, even if you write that article about GENE5, you're barking up the wrong tree."

“You think you know all about women's needs, Mr. Know-it-all?”

“And you think you know all about our business and what we need to do to make medicines that save lives?”

“I don't. I'm just a storyteller. I give people the voice they need.”

“Then take your pretty story elsewhere...”

“Pretty? Do you think I only write about materialistic superficial topics like beauty products, cosmetics, fashion…?”

He shrugged. “Nothing's wrong with those topics. Entertainment has real value - more than you think.”

She narrowed her eyes, leaned forward on the desk, and gritted her teeth. "Oh I see. LeBlanc Conglomerate makes all kinds of products on earth--not just medicines. I don't know what you said to make Paul speechless, but judging by the way this conversation is going, I'm guessing the next step is that you demand us to write you a promotional story for some of your fancy dancy products--like jewelry..."

She spoke too fast for his liking. 

She snatched the pouch off the desk with a vigorous swing as she talked about jewelry. The velvet pouch split open and Juliette's sixpence coin spun out into the air. Like an acrobat tumbling through empty space, the coin flipped and somersaulted through the opened door toward the balcony before hurtling down to the hustle of the street below.

Ciaran recoiled in horror as the metal glinted eerily in the sunlight before vanishing in an instant. His heart shattered into a million pieces, and a wave of emotion surged through him; both grief and fury alike.

It was the same feelings he had when Juliette lay dying in his arms. The feeling of hopelessness. 

They hadn't been married long. They had so much life to share. So much love to give. And yet, while he made medicines to save people, she perished in his arms, and there was nothing he could do apart from witnessing her life slip away. 

She asked for one last thing; to retrieve her artwork. 

It wasn’t the shoe she wanted, it was the sixpence coin inside that made her restless soul find solace. Now, he was losing the only thing that connected him to her memory. 

It felt like he was reliving her death again. In that moment, the loss became almost unbearable as he gazed out into the stark emptiness.

Madeline asked behind him, "What is this? A ring? I can find it. Let me find it for you. It must have just dropped down to the street. This is only level five."

He turned and looked at her. His voice was low and calm but intense like a storm cloud about to break. "It's a sixpence coin from my late wife. I assume you don't know what it means."

"I do. I mean... I'm so sorry that I didn't mean to lose it like that."

"It's gone, just like her." He didn't know what his face looked like at that point, but his rage seemed to radiate from him as an immense weight on Madeline's shoulders. 

She cringed. Her brave and stubborn demeanor had vanished.

“I’m sorry...”

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything, does it?” He knew it wasn't entirely her fault, but the pain was too raw to ignore. “You want to make a difference, Madeline? Well, congratulations. You just made one hell of an impact in my life.”

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