A stolen alpaca sock. A grumpy prince with scientifically engineered cheekbones. And a sentient hurricane that refuses to stop playing metaphysical matchmaker. Sylvie Mallow had very simple life goals: bleach the palace linens, balance the lye budget, and wrestle an eighty-percent alpaca sock away from Percival, a runaway goose with sociopathic tendencies. She did not plan on being struck by a corkscrewing, neon-fuchsia bolt of divine succession.
For six centuries, the living Storm of Barometria had dutifully chosen royal heirs who smelled of crushed lavender and practiced heroic crouches. But the ancient atmospheric entity is suffering from crippling aesthetic fatigue-and it decides that a common laundress with iron in her blood makes a far more entertaining Vessel. Now Sylvie is floating three inches off the ground, her hair is humming in B-minor, and an ancient, theatrical deity is living inside her frontal lobe, loudly critiquing court fashion and demanding pancakes.
Archduke Evander von Stratus spent twenty-five years training to become the voice of the sky. He has the royal bloodline, the tactical broadsword, and an absurdly sharp jawline. Watching his sacred birthright get hijacked by a soot-smudged scullery maid is infuriating. But when corrupt bureaucrats demand Sylvie's execution, Evander's sworn duty forces him to become her personal grounding rod and sworn shield.
To survive the deadly Trials of the Troposphere, Sylvie and Evander must learn to balance each other's charge. Armed with scullery physics, high-voltage banter, and a goose who bites visiting dignitaries, they'll have to tackle: A sentient storm providing unhinged romantic advice directly into Sylvie's skull Grumpy sixty-foot stone titans turned into zero-gravity party balloons A rogue, eight-tiered wedding cake generating its own localized weather system An explosive grumpy-meets-sunshine enemies-to-lovers bond that threatens to short-circuit the entire empire If you love cozy fantasy romcoms, hilarious romantic banter, delightfully chaotic magical familiars, and swoon-worthy protectors, grab The Talking Storm Chose A Queen today and get ready for a forecast of pure chaos!
A stolen alpaca sock. A grumpy prince with scientifically engineered cheekbones. And a sentient hurricane that refuses to stop playing metaphysical matchmaker. Sylvie Mallow had very simple life goals: bleach the palace linens, balance the lye budget, and wrestle an eighty-percent alpaca sock away from Percival, a runaway goose with sociopathic tendencies. She did not plan on being struck by a corkscrewing, neon-fuchsia bolt of divine succession.
For six centuries, the living Storm of Barometria had dutifully chosen royal heirs who smelled of crushed lavender and practiced heroic crouches. But the ancient atmospheric entity is suffering from crippling aesthetic fatigue-and it decides that a common laundress with iron in her blood makes a far more entertaining Vessel. Now Sylvie is floating three inches off the ground, her hair is humming in B-minor, and an ancient, theatrical deity is living inside her frontal lobe, loudly critiquing court fashion and demanding pancakes.
Archduke Evander von Stratus spent twenty-five years training to become the voice of the sky. He has the royal bloodline, the tactical broadsword, and an absurdly sharp jawline. Watching his sacred birthright get hijacked by a soot-smudged scullery maid is infuriating. But when corrupt bureaucrats demand Sylvie's execution, Evander's sworn duty forces him to become her personal grounding rod and sworn shield.
To survive the deadly Trials of the Troposphere, Sylvie and Evander must learn to balance each other's charge. Armed with scullery physics, high-voltage banter, and a goose who bites visiting dignitaries, they'll have to tackle: A sentient storm providing unhinged romantic advice directly into Sylvie's skull Grumpy sixty-foot stone titans turned into zero-gravity party balloons A rogue, eight-tiered wedding cake generating its own localized weather system An explosive grumpy-meets-sunshine enemies-to-lovers bond that threatens to short-circuit the entire empire If you love cozy fantasy romcoms, hilarious romantic banter, delightfully chaotic magical familiars, and swoon-worthy protectors, grab The Talking Storm Chose A Queen today and get ready for a forecast of pure chaos!
