Her Irish Treasures

A gargoyle, a leprechaun, and a motorcycle gang walk into a bar....Scratch that. A human woman (me) accidentally walks into a Faerie bar run by a leprechaun who keeps a cursed gargoyle on a shelf. Somehow, that gargoyle goes home with me, and I start dreaming of a man. Doran. He's trapped in stone and darkness, and only I can free him. He says I'm the treasurekeeper, and I need to find his friends, the other treasures, so we can break his curse. He haunts me night and day, driving me to hurry. I can't sleep. I can't think. I have to find them. I have to free him.

Four hot Irishmen sitting in a leprechaun's bar . . . all staring at me like I'm his pot of gold. Oh yeah, I'm one lucky woman. But everything isn't rainbows and lucky charms with my four Irish treasures. Warwick may have helped me break the curse trapping Doran as the stone gargoyle, but the guys don't trust the leprechaun. At all. Worse, demons are pouring into our world unchecked despite the four treasures being reunited. I am their treasure keeper, the conduit that allows their magic to flow, but there are disturbing holes in my memory. Someone doesn't want me to remember . . .

I won. I defeated the changeling who'd been feeding on me. My treasures escaped the trap set by Balor's dark fae. But now I don't even know what I am. Am I fae? Like the monster who trapped me in marriage and fed on me for five years? Or like my leprechaun, Warwick Greenshanks, who plays a delicate game of neutrality between dark and light fae? He swore to never lie to me, but he didn't make that promise on his gold. Only his heart.