The second of the illustrations I’ve commissioned from Nicole Deal for the Archivist series is a bit of a spoiler, so I thought I might as well include an excerpt from the first time Dusk lays eyes on Kellan as well (see below). Working with Nicole has been amazing. I love, love her take on characters that currently only live in my head. You can find Dusk and Sisu’s illustration here.
You will find Nicole’s ridiculously gorgeous rendering of Kellan (and the twin wolves) tucked between two scenes in chapter 2 of Invoking Infinity (Archivist 1). It will be in full colour in the eBook version (unless your eReader doesn’t do colour) and grayscale in the paperback. The book releases on May 25, 2021 (SO SOON NOW!!)
*** MILD SPOILER ALERT ***
Though he was some sort of shapeshifter, the stranger looming over a temporary workbench in the middle of what was going to be the main kitchen was definitely not Bethany. He was working with some sort of tool — sanding, maybe?
He looked up as I entered, instantly and steadily meeting my gaze. The plastic sealing the doorway fell back into place behind me.
The air was slightly dusty. Bright pockets of light from work lamps set around the large space gave the room a bright white glow. The sounds of Sisu, Neve, and Lile chattering away in the dining room filtered through more thick layers of plastic encasing a doorway on the wall to my left.
I recognized the stranger, though I’d never met him. In his late twenties, he was the spitting image of his sister, Gitta — and yet somehow looked nothing like her at all.
Kellan Conall.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and so well muscled that his T-shirt had to be cutting off his circulation at the upper biceps, he was one of the largest men I’d ever seen. And I knew plenty of warrior dragons, as well as the treasure keeper of the guardian dragons — Pulou. Though not as tall, Pulou had a body like a grizzly bear’s from the neck down — and looked the part as well, thanks to the enormous mink fur coat he always wore.
Kellan’s hair was dark brown, his skin a lighter brown. And his eyes were the same strange golden-green as the twins. Magic flared in those eyes as he took me in, staring at me as forthrightly as I was staring at him. His nostrils flared as he turned off and set down the tool he’d been wielding.
The sound in the room faded, including the chatter from the dining room. The moment seemed to physically stretch before us, as if some sort of spell had been triggered. Yet the warm but completely disconnected sensation I was feeling wasn’t magic. At least nothing remotely conventional.
“Dusk Godfrey,” I finally said. Was it possible to feel heavy, as if I was rooted to the plywood-covered floor, and yet lightheaded at the same time?
Apparently, yes.
He grinned, revealing white teeth. But the expression did nothing to soften all the hard planes of his face. He looked as though he could run through a brick wall, through multiple brick walls, without getting a scratch, let alone faltering.
That probably wasn’t a particularly attractive quality to anyone except for myself … my hormones? My magic?
And yes, I was still staring at him. And he at me.
“My employer,” he said. His accent was lilting yet still deep, as if his voice or the words themselves were pulled from the depths of his being.
There was something seriously wrong with me.
“Kellan Conall,” he said, pulling off his gloves.
– Invoking Infinity (Archivist 1), Chapter Two
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