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Winter Swans by Danica Winters
The Nymph Series Book Three

A curse that forbids her to love…A child that he must accept… And a battle that could get them killed…

After the death of his troubled ex-wife, the professional poker player, Chance Landon, finds out he is the father of a strange girl who carries even stranger secrets.

Swan-shifting nymph, Harper Cygnini, is a driven by the need to succeed in her professional life. When she meets Chance and his daughter, it becomes only too clear that there are things missing in her life—feelings and needs laid dormant after the mistakes of her past.

When Chance makes a choice that puts them all in danger, Harper must choose between her job and her heart.

Chance may be the gambler, but should she risk making the same mistakes and pinning her hopes on a future that may cost Chance his life and his daughter—or is that one bet she is unwilling to take?

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Content/Theme(s): Nymphs, Shifters, Pro poker player
Release Date: October 7, 2013
Publisher: Crimson Romance

Bonus, Excerpt & More

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Bonus Feature
What would you do if your world was turned upside down?
by Danica Winters
When I started writing Winter Swans this was the first question that came to mind. In the case of Harper Cygnini, this is exactly what happens when her sister is found dead in rural Montana (in Montana Mustangs). This is also the main impetus for the creation of the hero, Chance Landon, a professional poker player who has more than his fair share of secrets.

I had an incredible time asking myself the questions “What if?” and “What is the worst that could happen?” which led me to write a novel filled with incredible twists and an unusual, but addictive, romance.

Without giving anything away, I can say that when you are done reading you will be cheering and also asking, “What is going to come for X?” (No spoilers!)

If you loved the movies Maverick, The Italian Job, or the television show Grimm, you will LOVE Winter Swans and the full Nymph Series.

Wishing you the happiest of reading,
Danica Winters
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Excerpt:
The chapel of the funeral home was filled with familiar faces, each one drawn into a somber expression as they wandered past Harper Cygnini’s sister’s casket. A blonde nymph laid a single crystal swan inside the box, carefully placing the bird by the hundreds of others. The bird sat with its wings touching those next to it, looking as if they would come alive and fly Jenna to the realm of the gods.

Harper stepped to the head of the casket and shook hands as people passed by, never looking her in the eyes. There were no words to express the sadness which filled the room. This didn’t happen. Nymphs rarely died.

She dabbed at her stinging eyes. She had cried so much in the last week it came as a shock to her there were any tears left to be shed. Her heart wasn’t merely broken—no, the pain ran much deeper—it was almost as if she had died as well. Maybe she should have—the gods knew she deserved to be struck down. If she had just been more involved with her sister, if she had paid more attention, perhaps this would have never happened. She could have stopped her sister from being kidnapped. She would have noticed that Jenna had been missing. Instead Harper had merely gotten the call that Jenna’s body had been found frozen in a snow bank on some mountain.

The only comfort she could find was the men responsible had been incarcerated and awaited trial in Montana. They would pay for their atrocious crimes.

The only man in the room, Beau Morris, sat next to his fiancé, Ariadne Papadakis, the leader of the Sisterhood of Epione. Ariadne, noticing Harper’s gaze, dipped her head in a humble tribute to Jenna. Harper recognized a few of the other women within the room as mustang, snake, and swan-shifters. It was easy to tell them from the non-supernatural attendees as, even in mourning, the nymphs were perfectly beautiful—unscathed by time and the ravages of living.

The same couldn’t be said of Harper, but she didn’t care. She glanced down at her black dress. She couldn’t remember putting it on or doing her hair, but what did it matter? Even as a demigod life was short and filled with pain. What difference did her appearance really make—it was like so many other unimportant things that both humans and nymphs seemed to deem worthwhile. She couldn’t strike the impious thought that life was only some god’s sick joke—they merely sat up in the heavens playing around with everyone’s lives, striking down those who displeased them and testing to see how much pain those that remained could withstand.

A hand touched her shoulder, making her jerk to attention.

“Harper?” a redheaded woman asked. She was beautiful and clearly a nymph, but she didn’t have the same youthful, healthy glow of the others that filled the room. Instead her face was thin and her eyes tired.

“Yes. Thank you for coming to show your respect,” she answered robotically as she readied herself for the onslaught of well-deserved but undesired condolences.

“I’m Carey Jackson, a friend… I mean I was a friend of your sister.”

The words pierced Harper’s armor and drove straight to her heart. The tears stung her tired eyes. She could only nod, or any control she had would be lost.

Carey dropped her hand from Harper’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but your sister was my landlord and, well, she promised she would help me. She owed me a favor. And now I don’t have anyone to turn to, except you.”

Harper looked around, checking to see if what she was hearing was really happening here, at her sister’s funeral. Some of the pain she had been feeling dissipated and was replaced by red hot anger. “You can’t be serious. You didn’t come here to ask for a favor. You didn’t come to this place… and this time… and want to use my sister’s death to your advantage. No one can be that callous.”

The redhead stepped back from the onslaught of verbal strikes. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just need help. You don’t understand.”

Harper’s gaze dropped to Jenna. Her makeup was perfectly applied and her pale face unmoving, as if she had merely fallen asleep. Her brunette hair haloed around her and, even though she lay there in the white metal box, it was still hard to believe she was really gone.

Carey reached into her purse and pulled out a picture. “I’m looking for this man. I need to find him, it’s important. Please.”

Harper didn’t know what to say. She knew her anger at the woman’s response was based mostly in her own grief. The redhead needed help, even if she had made a mistake in approaching her here on this day.

Carey offered her the picture. Harper looked down at the image—the man was muscular and tan, almost the color of fresh honey. His copper-tinted brown hair framed his face and accentuated his stubble-covered jaw. He was laughing at some secret joke that had been lost in time and only his smile was preserved. She flipped over the picture and scrawled across the back was the name Chance Landon.

“Look,” she started. “I don’t think I can help…” She glanced up, but the redhead was gone. The next mourner in line, a petite woman with a sharp beak-like nose, stepped forward.

“Where…” Harper looked past the mousy-haired woman in front of her in search of the mysterious redhead.

“Excuse me?” the mousy woman said with an out-of-place smile.

“Yes, sorry,” Harper said, forcing herself to look at the gray business suit clad woman in front of her. The top button of the woman’s white dress shirt was fastened and there wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen anywhere on her perfectly put together outfit. “Thank you for coming.” The practiced words tumbled from her lips.

“You are welcome. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Redbird. I was the chief medical examiner on your sister’s case.”

Harper tried to keep the shock from striking her down. So many emotions invaded her all at once. Anger. Pain. Resentment. Thankfulness. “What are you doing here?”

The woman’s smile flickered slightly and she glanced over her shoulder, like she was looking for some kind of attack. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your sister’s death. I thought I would pay my last respects to her family…and your kind.”

Something about the woman seemed off, but then again everything that was happening in Harper’s life didn’t seem to fit. She’d never prepared herself to be standing in a room full of acquaintances, mourners, and a favor-asking redhead—especially when they were all there to pay respects to her sister, a woman she had thought would never die.
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