Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Savannah Stephens to HJ!
Hi Savannah and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Witch Queen Rising!
Hello out there Beautiful Souls. Thank you so much for your interest in my debut novel Witch Queen Rising.
Please summarize the book for the readers here:
Witch Queen Rising is a dark, Southern Gothic fantasy for fans of True Blood and the Originals. Seraphine “Phine” Barreau is the Witch-Who-Never-Wanted-To-Rule. Daughter to a dynasty of powerful witches, the normal life she wanted was snatched away before it even began. Ten years ago, she fled New Orleans to start over. But when her mother the Prime, ruler of witchkin, dies under mysterious circumstances she’s dragged back to continue the legacy that nearly killed her. Between her werewolf-ex, the skeletons in her family’s closet, and deadly politics she’ll have her hands full. But when a parasitic curse threatens to poison her people, she’ll have to find a cure or all of witchkin will die along with her.
Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:
“If I let my actions be dictated by how people treated me, I’d already be the monster they think I am.”
“Fate makes tools of us all when there is work to be done.”
“People don’t oppose me, Phine. They just don’t see the vision yet.”
“Bless his heart. I love my ex-husband, but if that man had a thought it would die of loneliness.”
Please share a few Fun facts about this book…
- Of various possible titles, Blood in the Bayou was one of them. As I began looking for music for the book’s soundtrack, I actually did find a song called Blood in the Bayou which became one of my preferred ones to advertise with. Said playlist can be found here.
- The whole book is owed to this image from the Formation video. As a Black Alt woman, I was struck by the aesthetic and the storytelling. I saw it and thought “What is this world and who are these characters?” The following year, I started the draft.
What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?
Hero #1 was attracted to Phine from the night they met as teenagers. He loved what a spitfire she was and that she wasn’t afraid to challenge him. Hero #2’s attraction to Phine grew from watching her quiet strength, kindness, and humor. Seeing Phine’s dedication for her people and the love they eventually returned was what won him over. Phine was drawn to Hero #1 for his big heart, slick mouth, and lop-sided grin. He became her dream for a normal life with a loving family. Hero #2 originally for his striking eyes. But as they got to know each other that grew to include his loyalty, his charm, and his compassion.
Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?
For Hero #1 – Crying, definitely crying. Phine and Remy have such a tragic story of what could have been. The love between them is very real, but real life keeps getting in the way.
“But our lives are different now…now we have more at stake. And I’m afraid…” her voice broke around the words. She was afraid he’d see her as some pet project to fix. Or try to make up for the past. She didn’t want that for either of them. “It would kill something in me to watch us crash and burn now.”
Remy shushed her softly and held her. He stepped back enough to cup her face in his big hands; and wiped away her tears. His thumbs were soft as silk in their tenderness. But still less tender than his eyes when they met hers.
“There is no lifetime I wouldn’t crash and burn with you.”
For Hero #2 it was blushing. He’s charming and patient. He deeply respects Phine and is aware of the complications anything between them could bring. But did I mention he’s an incubus?
“Didn’t you say you were in a hurry.”
Phine took another step to the side to let him pass. He did not take her invitation to go about his way. Instead, he watched her with the patience of a man who suddenly had all day.
“I was,” he replied and let the silence stretch between them.
“As an expert in running away from things, I have to tell you you’re doing it wrong.”
He laughed and it caught her off guard. The taste was like caramel kisses, sweet and smokey on her tongue. Amusement simmered in his eyes as if they were sharing a joke.
“Or maybe now I have something to stay for.”
Readers should read this book….
You want to escape reality for a bit and enjoy losing yourself in worlds you can sink your teeth into. If you want a cast of characters you can see yourself in.
What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?
I am currently reading An Arcane Inheritance by Kamilah Cole and Daggermouth by HM Wolf. Upcoming releases I’m excited for are These Walls Remember by Del Sandeen, To Steal a Throne by Gabi Burton, and Black as Diamond by U.M. Agoawike.
Thanks for blogging at HJ!
Giveaway: One copy of WITCH QUEEN RISING for a U. S. only winner.
To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Would you rather build a future with someone new or get a second chance at what might have been?
Excerpt from Witch Queen Rising:
WITCH QUEEN RISING by Savannah Stephens
Ace Trade Paperback Original | On Sale April 21, 2026
ExcerptIf home is where the heart is, Seraphine Barreau had played the part of the Tin Man all her life. New Orleans had more ghosts than a graveyard, with painful memories worn into every cobblestone and wrought iron fence. For the last ten years, she had stayed as far north as she could to avoid even the idea of coming back here. And yet here she was, being driven down streets she remembered from another life.
New Orleans was as beautiful and dark as the night sky. Its bustling streets full of starlight. But as they drove with the windows down, something was . . . off. Something in the air was different. The wind carried a sickly sweetness that danced just out of reach of her perception any time she paid too much attention to it. It nagged at her thoughts. But the steward was either unaware or unbothered by it while he drove Phine’s mother’s car.
The Rolls-Royce Phantom IV was Maxine Barreau’s pride and joy. A car fit for a Queen, her mother liked to say. The aged leather was soft as silk under her fingers, which flexed and released each time she forgot and remembered to breathe. Each time she did, she caught a whiff of cedarwood and roses. The haze of her mother’s scent was thick enough to make her chew the inside of her lip. The Barreau matriarch wasn’t in the car; couldn’t be, truth be told. But the threat of her presence had Phine stroking the scar along her right palm. Its smoothness soothed her while she studied the man she knew only as Charles.
He was six feet tall, with a wiry frame and pecan brown skin. The Ankara suit he wore was starched within an inch of its life. Bushy brows framed eyes so deeply brown they melted into the black of his pupils. He had narrow, hard features like someone had pinched them onto his face. His mustache and beard were trimmed with exacting precision to frame lips set permanently in a frown. If one could get past his grim stateliness that eerily reminded her of a vulture, he could even be called handsome. But Phine couldn’t recall a single time he had smiled or laughed. This was the man to whom her mother had left the care of her two daughters.
“Where are we going?” Phine asked, daring to break the silence.
“To your mother’s house.”
She chewed her lip, considering a question she didn’t know if she wanted answered. “Have the Heads of House been informed of my arrival?”
“If they didn’t know before, they knew the moment you crossed into the city.” His eyes moved briefly to meet hers. “The power calls to them.”
For anyone else he would have said Your power, and the distinction was not lost on Phine. A crack of lightning drew her eyes back outside as it split the sky. She rolled the window up. Thunder growled while dark clouds chased behind them like wolves. By the time they pulled up to her mother’s house in the French Quarter, the sky poured rain. They arrived at a beautiful double-gallery home with ivory paint, rose red shutters, and a black roof. The front porch was enclosed by complementing red rosebushes in full bloom. The sight of them made Phine want to shudder. Charles opened the door for her while holding a golf umbrella open for them.
The Barreau house stood proud and unfazed by the storm, dwarfing her in its shadow. The windows were dark save for the flickering of candles in a few and firelight in one lone room on the second floor. For a moment, Phine swore a figure stood outlined in the window of her mother’s study. It was gone as quickly as it appeared. That was their destination. But the idea made Phine swallow the bile trying to creep up her throat. Bad things happened in that room.
Charles cleared his throat, drawing her from her thoughts, then led her up the grand porch. When he ushered her inside, the house was as still and quiet as a tomb. But for her, it echoed with memories. It was just in her mind, but the giggle of young girls tickled her ears before images of two little girls rounded a corner. Xiomara. They couldn’t have been more than six, but one of them looked like a little version of her. As they ran, mischief glinted in her younger self’s eyes. Even as her older sister came hurtling after them threatening to tell their mother, young Phine still laughed carefree as a breeze. The images faded, but a lingering ache in her chest did not. Phine knew they weren’t real, but she feared what other ghosts of her past this old house would conjure.
Original hardwoods creaked underfoot, breaking the heavy silence as they walked. When they passed the large French country kitchen, more images from her memories gripped her. An elderly woman with an easy smile to match her kind eyes stood behind the counter. The younger version of Phine, this time maybe nine or ten, balanced next to her on a stool. She and her Gigi Rosaline had been making biscuits for dinner, which her mother said were horrible. Later that night, Gigi comforted her while Phine cried herself to sleep.
Phine lost sight of them after she and Charles passed tastefully opulent room after tastefully opulent room. The Barreau house was supposed to reflect its witches: elegant, stately, traditional. The house was spotless, and everything had a place. Curated, she grumbled to herself. But what struck her most was, from the antique moldings to the decorative furnishings, everything was exactly as she remembered. Not one thing had moved or changed. It was like the Barreau house had held its breath for ten whole years. It felt more like a museum than a home.
After climbing the grand mahogany staircase, Charles led her down familiar hallways to her mother’s formal study. Phine’s pulse began throbbing in her ears. With each step, her pounding heart drowned out the creak of her steps. Charles stepped aside as they reached the doors to let her pass and made no move to follow. Phine stared at the doorknob where a Barreau B stared back at her. She couldn’t bring herself to touch it. Memories of that room reared up to consume her. The tightness in her chest spiked as her vision started to blur.
The groan of the door snapped Phine back to herself with a gasp. It opened and waited for her to walk through it. Just enough tension eased out of Phine so she could breathe. Bracing herself, she squared her shoulders and stepped into the room she had nearly died in.
Excerpted from Witch Queen Rising by Savannah Stephens Copyright © 2026 by Savannah Stephens. Excerpted by permission of Ace. All rights reserved.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Book Info:
A reclusive witch who fled the burden of her bloodline rises to be the greatest among them in this lush and haunting fantasy debut.
For New Orleans witchkin, there is no greater honor than to become the Prime—chosen to rule. But the title is meant to pass between two rival Houses of magic. Not to the wayward daughter of the former Prime who died under mysterious circumstances.
As a girl, Seraphine Barreau was dubbed the Tick Witch for her ability to feed on magic and make it her own. Even among those who alter fate and manipulate reality, she was a powerful outcast feared and misunderstood by her people. Now dragged back to continue the legacy that nearly destroyed her, Phine has her work cut out for her. She must earn the respect of her people, navigate the politics of the paranormal communities residing in her city, and heal a broken heart all the while battling a parasitic curse poisoning witchkin. Between her werewolf ex, power-hungry vampires, and the skeletons in her family’s closet, Phine must learn to make peace with her past to save her—and all of witchkin’s—future.
Meet the Author:
Savannah Stephens is a genre-blending fiction author, most notably dark and paranormal fantasy. She proudly creates the representation she did not have growing up. Her protagonists are warriors, queens, assassins, witches, dragon riders, and more. She hopes to not only give readers fantastical worlds to escape into, but tools to survive the real world they inevitably return to once the pages stop turning. Savannah lives in Central New York with her feline familiar, Sir Beaumont of Fluffbottom. When not writing, she indulges in any one of her ever-expanding hoard of hobbies.
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