Frost Giant Greenleaf Snow Angel Plum snippet

2020 was stupid. Hopefully 2021 will be less so.

It's come to my attention that I'm taking this writing thing too seriously. LIFE has been too serious.

So...here's a work in progress. It's not political. It has no major life lessons. What's in it? Whatever I want.

Messy, unedited, and just for fun...enjoy.

Autumn Dawn

Mother of Ice & Frost

 

by

Autumn Dawn

 

PUBLISHED BY:

Autumn Dawn

 

EDITED BY:

To be determined (let me know if you're interested in the job)

their email address (if applicable)

 

COVER IMAGES: Shutterstock.com

 

Find out more about upcoming releases: www.autumndawnbooks.com

Sneak peeks of works in progress: authorautumndawn.blogspot.com

Friend me on Facebook

 

Title Copyright © 2021 by Autumn Dawn

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

 

 

 

Contents

 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

About Autumn Dawn

Bibliography

 

 

 

 

Title

 

It had been thirty years since the Convergence, when the dimensions aligned and combined Earth and the world of Gwyllon, known in human mythology as “Underhill”. Elven castles and ancient ruins sprouted in vacant lots, on major highways, sometimes merging with existing buildings, twisting into completely new structures. Roads and rail systems reformed, and after the rioting, starvation and death, agriculture finally sorted itself and food began to flow. A new government formed of elves and men had arisen, a society of human tech and elven magic. Cell phones and frost giants, race cars and elven steeds, dungeons and dragons…

And everywhere, monsters.

 

Mother of Ice and Frost

 

 The Convergence had changed their world. Years ago, Earth and the fabled elven world had melded, causing earthquakes, raising sunken islands and unleashing monsters. The catastrophic disaster disrupted every facet of transportation, agriculture and caused widespread death. When the shaken citizens of both worlds finally sorted things out, roads got fixed, farms and factories started to produce, and oil and natural gas once more fueled the nations. The world ran on a mix of magic and science, allowing dragons to rule the skies and satellites to dominate space.

These days, resources were focused on infrastructure, communications, manufacture and monster control. Meat and animal products were especially rationed. It took a lot of manpower to protect herds of animals and helpless, delicious chickens from hungry monsters. WW2 memorabilia and rationing posters were back in circulation, as people were encouraged to “grow your own” and “have a monster garden”. Etsy sold framed posters of Rosie the Riveter, people were encouraged to “made do and mend”, and homemaking was a full-time job again…

Which is why Hakon and his brothers were struggling. Women were naturally superior at homemaking; at least Fern thought so. Didn’t mean they couldn’t do other jobs, just meant they knocked it out of the park on the home front. The ability to shoot and fix tractors if they needed to was a definite bonus.

Fern serves the perfect frost giant family, until a disaster forces her to find a new home. Turns out another family is in need of a live-in housekeeper. It’s not exactly a dream job.

He needed a cook. Maybe someone to clean house. The little human woman seemed like a good idea, but it was tricky keeping her alive.

 

Heat level: sweet. Contains no graphic love scenes.

Expect reasonable amounts of gore as monster heads explode and plenty of action.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

“Daddy? Why are there monsters?”

“Because people complained that they couldn’t believe in things they couldn’t see. So God opened their eyes and all hell broke loose.”

Fern finished blending the soap and removed her stick blender from the bowl of emulsified fat and homemade lye. She hummed along with the radio as she poured the soap into the greased wooden mold. After it set but before it was hard, she would slice it into bars and let it finish curing for a few weeks.

She took the mold and carefully stepped down from the stool behind the tall kitchen counter. At 5”8, she was hardly short, at least by human standards, but this wasn’t a human household.

The laundry room was right off the kitchen, and she placed the soap on a low shelf next to the cleaning supplies. The shelves ran all the way to the ten foot ceiling, but she didn’t feel like climbing the ladder.

It was time to start on lunch, so she moved the stool to the stainless steel sink and started scrubbing enough potatoes to fill the five gallon stock pot for creamy potato soup.

It took a lot of soup to feed a family of frost giants.

The snow was January thick, and the thermometer outside read -40 F, typical for North Dakota. It didn’t bother her here in the warm kitchen, though. She could see the hay barn stuffed full of giant round bales, food for the goats, sheep and cattle her bosses owned. The goat shed was directly in front of the window, so she could see her boss, Embla, pitching hay to the goats and knocking ice out of the water bins. Dressed in nothing more than suede pants, boots and a gray t-shirt, the seven foot giantess wasn’t at all bothered by the cold. Her long blond hair was braided, and she wore an ax strapped to her back, within easy reach. Bare handed, she pulled the metal bound gate closed and latched it, unconcerned with the frosty metal’s bite.

Fern caught a glimpse of her face in the triple pane windows and checked to make sure her hair was still mostly tamed by her own braid. The wild curls would never perfect, but at least they stayed out of her face with this style. The freckles she could do nothing about.

Embla’s feet stomped snow off outside before she breezed in. She toed her boots off and padded across the hardwood floor. “Snow coming. Good, you started the soup.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Embla opened the industrial steel fridge and polished off a quart of fresh raw goat’s milk straight from the jar. Embla took care of her precious goats herself, preferring the outside work, but Fern filtered the milk for her and made cheese, just as Embla had taught her.

She also made the household bread, pickles, kombucha and almost all the meals. She loved the kitchen work, loved tasting the delicious food she created. She was constantly reading, learning new recipes and techniques to expand her knowledge.

If she could have lived here, life would have been nearly perfect.

Sadly, her apartment was in the city, less than ten miles away, but worlds apart. She couldn’t see how her dream of having her own country home would ever work out, despaired of meeting a man who shared her vision, but she was grateful for the job that let her have a piece of it.

The radio buzzed with an important weather announcement. Snow was supposed to start by early afternoon and become a blizzard. School would be dismissed early.

Embla grunted. “You’ll have to take the bus home early, then. Probably run late in the morning, too. Figures. I was going to make beer tomorrow, too! Now I’ll have to cook breakfast.” She scowled at the big basket of eggs on the counter. Ebla was a good cook, but she’d rather be outdoors with her animals.

There was nothing she could do about it, so Fern stayed silent. She would have happily stayed the night on the couch and got up early to cook, but Embla’s seventeen year old son was a flirt. He was way too young for Fern, who was twenty-four, but Embla would never stand for the human to stay overnight. She was taking no chances; a human female was not suitable for her son.

Fern didn’t take it personally. Embla wanted the best for her boy. In her world, marrying a human was literally marrying down. Who wanted short grandchildren? Embla’s parents were both nine foot plus, and Embla was considered petite (she had a bit of a complex about it). She’d never hear the end of it if her grandkids were puny and weak.

Fern had heard Embla’s mother’s deep alto voice (she was a loud talker) through the phone often enough to sympathize. How could such a booming voice sound shrill?

Kory, Embla’s son, stomped off the snow on the porch a little past one PM as Fern was cleaning up the lunch dishes from Embla and her husband.

Seventeen, dark blond, 7”9, Kory was decent looking, with hands and feet that promised more growth to come. He grinned at Fern and sniffed the air. “Smells like good things cooking.”

She smiled back and set out a big bowl, fresh bread and utensils. “Creamy potato soup with bacon. Here’s the shredded cheese.”

“Awesome! I’m starving.” He wolfed it down, followed by two more.

“They let you out early,” his mom remarked from her loom. Although she had her sheep’s wool commercially carded and spun, she enthusiastically wove and knit. She also used the tanned hides to make pants and such for her family, producing most of the textiles for her household. She’d even made a couple of pairs of pants for Fern, amused at the tiny size.

Sadly, Fern wasn’t as talented with fiber arts, but she couldn’t be good at everything. Besides, she more than made up for it in the kitchen.

“Yeah. They’re warning of storm hags,” Kory said.

Fern froze with her hands in the dishwater. She’d turned the radio off after the storm warning, figuring she was up to date. Quiet time was expensive today.

Embla paused in her weaving. She put on her boots and went outside. Fern watched her take a deep breath, sampling the air. When she came back in, her face was grave. “Leave the dishes. I’ll drive you home.”

She’d never offered to do that before.