Margins
Fiona book cover 1
Fiona
Series · 1 book · 2018

Books in series

Fiona Origins book cover
#1

Fiona Origins

2018

The author who helped create the genre sweeps you into a whole new world of paranormal romance! An innocent child… The research facility that is the subject of whispers and wild speculation burns to the ground. That same night, a little girl is found wandering alone, burned and sooty, wearing a hospital gown and a bracelet identifying her as SUBJECT 92751. A lifetime of lies… Fiona Fairweather has spent her entire life in the small Scottish town of Foyers on the shores of Loch Ness. But everything changes when she returns home from celebrating college graduation, to find her parents lying on the floor. With her final breaths, her mother tells the truth, that she wasn't born to them, and that the truth about her origins could put her in grave danger. A dangerous stranger… Quinn Collins arrives from the States to investigate her parents' deaths. Fiona is drawn to him in spite of the threat he represents. Can she trust him? Or has he come to fetch her back into captivity? A daring quest for truth… To find out who she really is, Fiona risks returning to the US where her parents found her, and accepting a job in the rebuilt facility from which she'd fled as a toddler. She jumps into the lion's den, and Quinn Collins is one of the biggest lions there. A soul-wrenching discovery… DPI only does research on extra-humans, so it makes no sense to Fiona that she was once a “subject” there. But what she learns is almost too shocking to believe, for not only was Fiona born in the DPI, she was made there. The truth awakens… On her 300th full moon, something foreign that's been sleeping inside Fiona all her life, stirs awake and begins to grow strong. Will she fight it, or embrace it? Will it co-exist with her or possess her? And will Quinn Collins keep her secrets, or will he be the instrument of her ultimate destruction?

Author

Maggie Shayne
Maggie Shayne
Author · 124 books

I live in the teeny, tiny town of Taylor, NY, (Alliteration Alert!) though my mailing address is Cincinnatus, my telephone exchange is Truxton and I pay taxes and vote in Cuyler. All of these are at least in the same rural county in the southern hills of New York State; Cortland County. There are more cattle than people here. The nearest “big” cities are Syracuse and Binghamton and they are an hour away, in different directions, and not really all that big by most standards, though they both seem humongous to me. I look out my window to see rolling, green, thickly forested hills, wildflower laden meadows and wide open blue, blue skies. My road is barely paved. The nearest neighboring place is a 700 acre dairy farm. My house is a big, century old farmhouse. I moved in here after my divorce in 2006. Just a little over a year later, the house, which I had named, SERENITY, burned. It was 99% gutted, and I lost my two dogs, Sally, an 11-year-old great Dane, and Wrinkles, my 14-year-old, blind bulldog. This was the culmination of my Dark Night of the soul, which had seemed to hit me all at once in 2006-2007. My mother died that year, after a 14 month battle with pancreatic cancer. She was only 60. The youngest of my five daughters had left home that same year, and while that’s not a tragedy at all, it felt like one to me. Then came the divorce. And finally there was the fire—it seemed my darkest night wasn’t quite finished with me after all. I had lost almost everything before that point, and as I poked through the wet ashes and soot the next day, I realized that I had now been stripped all the way to the bone. No better time to start over. (And no, I didn’t come to that realization that day—there were a few days of wallowing in pity first, particularly the day after the fire, when I hit a deer and smashed up my car, which I was practically living in!) That’s when I started to laugh. Just sat on the side of the road as the deer bounded, uninjured and carefree, out of sight, and laughed. It was just too ridiculous at that point, to do anything else! And from there, I picked myself up, and brushed myself off, and said, okay, there’s only one way to go from here. Forward. And that’s what I did. There I was at the age of harrurmphemmph, living in my one, mostly undamaged remaining room, with a dorm-sized mini-fridge, a futon, a TV, my cat (nine lives!) and a laptop. And not much else. (Though thank goodness the room that survived the fire, was a room that had its own attached bathroom!) Since then I have rebuilt my beloved home, which really has become my haven, my “Serenity.” I share it now with my fiancé, Lance, and we have accumulated quite the little family together. “Little” being a relative term. We have a pair of English Mastiffs, Dozer and Daisy, who weigh 203 pounds and 208 pounds respectively, and a little pudgy English Bulldog named Niblet, who is bigger than both of them, inside her mind. We also have the aforementioned cat, Glorificus (“Glory” for short,) who adores her canine pups and keeps them firmly in line. And we've acquired a pair of stray cats as well, a mother and son, Luna (Lulu for short) and Butters aka Buddy. Lulu showed up pregnant during a lunar eclipse, had a litter, and vanished again. We found homes for all the kittens except one. Butters. We got him fixed and kept him. A few months later, Lulu returned, again expecting. This litter was born on the "Monster Moon." Again, all the kittens were spayed and neutered and placed in homes, and this time we got Lulu to the vet in time to spay her before the cycle could repeat. Glory is not amused. She has a story of her own, my old Glory cat, having been with me before the Dark Times descended, she went through it all with me, moved with me, survived the fire, and remains with me still. She's tolerating the newcomers. Barely. My partner is an artist, a mechanic, a welder and an inventor, and the rumors are true, he is much younger than I

548 Market St PMB 65688, San Francisco California 94104-5401 USA
© 2025 Paratext Inc. All rights reserved