Since it's late Sunday afternoon in my neck of the woods, I'm going to do my best to keep this email short and sweet. (Yeah, good luck to me. 🤪) But I'm also kind of in a bind right now because a mama cat with kittens has shown up in our backyard, but they're all rather skittish. So I'm hunting kitties without any TNR traps (because I've never officially done that stuff), in hopes of getting them fixed before they age and inevitably inbreed in my neighborhood.

Therefore my husband's laptop isn't plugged in while I not-so-secretly watch a bowl of food and water. And thus, this email might be shorter than usual JUST because this laptop's battery might run out.

Let's see what happens....

Claimed by the Undead: Out On Tuesday!

You've got just two more days to pre-order the eBook version of Claimed by the Undead, because Helena and Konstantin's saga is about to drop onto the retailers and my book shop like an elemental bomb. 💣

How about some of the basics to let you know what you're getting into if you decide to read my latest Teutonic witchy novel....

Book title: Claimed by the Undead

Series title: This Earthen Cage

Number in series: Book 1

POV: 1st person dual, past tense

Genre: dark historical romantasy

Timeline: October 1898-May 1899

Ending type: cliffhanger (and it's a doozy 😬)

Female main character: Helena Braun, an 18-year-old Teuton witch of light who grew up in a village of non-magical outsiders and has a lot to learn about her status as a witch

Male main character: Konstantin, an 18-year-old Teuton priest of stone who fell victim to the filial curse before this book begins, a curse which transformed him into an undead servant of the demon lord Wuotan

Word count: 100,892 (it's a tome! 📚)

Chapters from Helena's POV: 19

Chapters from Konstantin's POV: 16

Is there spice? In this book, no. The relationship is slow burn, but there will definitely be spice in later books.

Trigger warnings? Since this series falls into the dark fantasy genre, you'd better strap in for those triggers. Being a Teuton witch who's romantically interested in a cursed priest isn't easy, especially since Wuotan has a bean up his nose about the idea of love. Some triggers in Claimed by the Undead include death, murder, kidnapping, loss of a child, graphic violence and torture, depictions of ritual human sacrifice, sexual assault perpetuated by multiple villain characters, occasional profanity, and mature themes. Read at your own risk; you might not agree with how every event unfolds.

✨ Get It Now ✨

Claimed by the Undead: Snippet #3

Not sure if you noticed (because I sure didn't until someone replied to last week's newsletter 🥴), but my last email's title did NOT match the snippet I shared. At all. Backyard chickens, a stone bench, and an insolent rogue.

The snippet I shared? Helena and Konstantin sneaking into a curtained alcove to make out at twilight. Just like today's email title. I changed them up to keep everyone guessing—myself included.

Now let's find out what was going on in the snippet I meant to share last week....

***

“Sounds like there’s been some tension in this village since the raid.”

One of the hens hopped near and pecked at the hem of my skirt, so I released her sister to distract her and stole a glimpse at Konstantin. His hands were tucked into the pockets of a jacket that appeared too tight for him, his right boot propped on his left knee as his gaze roamed over the property. He seemed out of place in a simple backyard, a priest more suited to shadowy corridors and libraries.

“Everyone’s going to struggle this winter since my Papa and Wilhelm didn’t sell our neighbors’ goods in Kufstein. They all know the men in my family brought this upon them. That they diverted from the main route and encountered someone from your castle. Then the Brotherhood showed up and I came home, and . . . I don’t know. Wilhelm’s relationship is falling apart. People are angry Papa couldn’t bring back what everyone needs.”

I crossed my ankles under my skirt, the hens having dispersed for now. The Black Priest beside me frowned pensively, his eyes scouring the cloudy sky. “The gold and silver isn’t enough for every family in this village. Especially if they need products that aren’t produced here. Do you think you could visit each of your neighbors and make lists of the items they’ll need to survive the winter?”

Konstantin lowered his gaze to mine, his jaw firm as if he had discovered his purpose. “I probably could, assuming they’ll speak to me,” I answered.

“Do it, and I’ll visit in spirit form to go over the lists with you,” he said. “I can collect everything your neighbors should have gotten from your father’s trades, and we’ll distribute all of it by Christmas.”

“That’s—do you really have the time to find it all? Fabric, candles, pins and thread? Mechanical parts, schooling materials? Oil for the streetlamps?”

“It’s November. I jogged down here from my castle in just over an hour. It’s not like I have to go everywhere in person, either. One of my predecessors recently informed me my castle has multiple vaults of currency. With your help, I can make sure everyone in your hometown greets the New Year fully stocked.” Konstantin gave an imperious nod, his confidence filling me with awe.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for everyone here to know you’re not exactly . . . a wicked vampire? If you play the role of Father Christmas, some people might try to visit your castle in the spring. If Nemo . . . .” I let it hang, my amazement at Konstantin’s generosity mingling with caution.

“We can both play Father Christmas and leave the goods on the doorsteps. You’re the only Teuton here. If we distribute everything in spirit form, no one will know who’s responsible.” The priest beside me smirked.

“Well, I—I’ll get to work making those lists right away.” I tilted my head at my companion, his enthusiasm rubbing off on me. The back door squeaked open, my father stepping outside with a plate in hand. Jumping to my feet, I ran to take my lunch from him, his shoulders relaxing when he observed my buoyancy.

“This should be enough for both of you.” He handed me the plate and two forks. “Piled high with your favorites. Does your Black Priest prefer beer or wine?”

“You really don’t need to bring him any food or drink. He doesn’t need those things due to his curse. I’ll just take some milk for myself.”

“In that case, I’ll bring you the milk so you can keep having your talk. Young people.” My father’s eyes twinkled at me, and he headed back inside. A blush rose in my cheeks, so I fixed my gaze on the plate and prepared to return to Konstantin. The scent of vinegar tantalized my nose. Along with the lettuce and radishes, my father had added chopped onions, pickles, and goat cheese to my salad.

Konstantin described the situation with Nemo while I dug into my lunch, famished from my earlier work in the garden. He admitted he had not spoken with his cursed peer much since they captured their eleven sacrifices. Apparently four Teutons had raided the castle alongside their non-magical pawns. Nemo had killed three and imprisoned one to torture and bleed for information. He planned to release the Teuton to warn his cult buddies not to intrude upon the Black Castle again, or Nemo would take the fight to them.

“I thought he was already doing that?” I asked after my father dropped off a cup of milk, which I set onto the stone bench between Konstantin and me.

“To be honest, I’m not sure what he’s doing. I just know I don’t trust him. He vowed to leave the Teuton who assaulted you to me, so I could take vengeance upon him. But he killed that brute while I trapped the outsiders at the bridge.”

I sensed Konstantin’s frustration at his peer’s betrayal, though he related the story in a calm tone, keeping his deadly anger sheathed. While I acknowledged his yearning to avenge me, I felt an overwhelming relief that the brute of molten rock no longer walked the earth.

“He’s not the only member of the Teutonic Brotherhood who assaulted me.” Konstantin froze at that, his sharp eyes blazing into me while I worked on my salad. “There’s still one member of the Brotherhood here in town. Berthold Wirth. On the night of the sacrifice, he and my brother tried to steal Papa’s horses and raid your castle a second time. Hoping to free their buddies. I confronted them in the stable, and Berthold took hold of me.”

“Took hold of you.” Konstantin’s voice had dropped an octave, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the bench. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the skin of his left hand darken from tanned to gray. The gray of stone.

“I tried to bring my light out to repel him, but I couldn’t. He wanted me to use my magic to help them reach your castle that night. He put his lips against my neck. Stuck his nose into my hair.”

The Black Priest abruptly transformed into a statue beside me, his thoughts scratching at my brain. Is this Berthold still in town?

“He is.” As much as I wanted to use my light to enhance my vision and show me his superhuman spirit, I kept my focus on my salad. “But he should be leaving with the coach today. Papa told Joachim—the innkeeper—that he broke into our stable, tried to steal our horses, and assaulted me.”

I stuffed leaves and cheese into my mouth as quickly as I could, certain my companion would set out to confront Berthold within moments. Whether the fool would survive that encounter, I could not guess. Konstantin growled in my mind, then stated he was in the process of binding his anger. I see the coach parked in front of what looks like the town hall. Four horses, one coachman.

“Yes, it arrives before noon every Thursday and leaves at one. Sometimes it spends the night at the roadside hut between here and Kufstein. We don’t get many ‘official’ visitors since we’re not connected to the railroad. The coach comes on Thursdays, and long distance mail comes Tuesdays and Fridays.”

You have a telegraph office. That’s all you need. Forgive me for having to jump to my other form. I might have been able to control myself, but when you said he touched you so intimately . . . . Konstantin snarled again, then somehow managed to sigh without physical lungs. I have to get better at control if you truly want to live with me. I want to be able to keep you safe.

“I don’t mind if you become a spirit at times like this,” I assured him, taking a big gulp of milk before conjuring my light to heighten my vision. Konstantin’s spirit stood mere steps from me, clawed fingers flexing, his churning robes of inky translucent marble. His horns shimmered amid the flowing locks of his hair, his obsidian eyes softening when he saw me admiring him.

You have no concept of the thin wire you tread when you’re in my presence. It’s mad to want a partnership with a cursed Teuton priest. No matter how ‘good’ you think I am, death consumes me from the inside out. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hide this—he gestured from himself to me—from my master.

“We’ll figure it out as we go along. That’s what all couples have to do, right?” I favored him with a shy smile and rose to my feet, carrying what remained of my salad to the sand outside the chicken coop.

I suppose that’s true. Now. Let’s pay a visit to Berthold Wirth.

“Both of us?” The hens hurried toward me as I dumped my plate, letting out a cacophony of clucks.

“Of course. How else will he know to never dishonor you again?” Konstantin said as his statuesque body softened upon his spirit’s return to it.

The two of us walked hand-in-hand to the town hall not long after. Though my heart smoldered in satisfaction at Konstantin’s presence, beneath my sunhat I scanned the faces of every person we passed. Most neighbors ignored me, though some likely cast questioning glimpses at my back. Only the Catholic priest, Father Friedrich, bowed his head and wished me well, his brows arching at my mysterious companion. Konstantin had borrowed my father’s wide-brimmed hat, most of his aspect shaded from view.

The clock on the bell tower rising from the town hall read twelve thirty-five when we reached the coach, its driver in the process of watering his horses. The tanner’s wife already sat inside the coach with her young daughter; and two men stood at the corner of the sidewalk, chatting and smoking. One of the two was the innkeeper. The other was Berthold Wirth.

***

Want to know what happens when Konstantin confronts the rogue who assaulted Helena? Get your copy of Claimed by the Undead right now to find out all the details.

https://bf.clcarhart.com/fd9deoy799

If you haven't read Gift of Light yet and want the story of how Helena and Konstantin first met, you can grab that novella for only 99¢ in honor of Claimed by the Undead's release. Get it here:

https://bf.clcarhart.com/z0k1vqfsss

But yes, you can definitely read and understand Claimed by the Undead without reading Gift of Light first. It's totally up to you where you prefer to enter Helena's saga with the Black Priest Konstantin.

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✨ FREE On BookFunnel ✨

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✨ All Retailers ✨

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I left because I had to, my father was selling me off to the most dangerous man in the world like I was a prized pony. There was already so much taken from me at the hands of my father, and I would allow nothing else to be ripped from me – especially my future.

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✨ FREE on KU ✨

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✨ All Retailers ✨

All right, I'd better sign off for now because this laptop's battery is dying a slow death. 💀 Just saw mama cat walk through the yard by herself, but no sign of wherever she's hidden her teeny kittens for now. I'll probably have to leave the food and water out overnight and see if anything (other than bugs) visits the bowl under cover of darkness.

I'm not sure if I'm patient enough to successfully capture this fuzzy family, but time will tell. We do have an affordable spay/neuter clinic not far away, but I'm used to using those for my own cats. Not a semi-feral family.

Wish me luck, and have yourself a wonderfully weird weekend!

Talk to you soon,

C.L. Carhart

Pre-order Claimed by the Undead:

https://bf.clcarhart.com/fd9deoy799

Get Gift of Light for 99¢:

https://bf.clcarhart.com/z0k1vqfsss

Elemental Bloodlines series:

https://clcarhart.com/collections/elemental-bloodlines-series-ebooks

His Name Was Augustin series:

https://clcarhart.com/collections/hnwa-series-ebooks