Dushevnayasvyaz, Fated Mates, & Other Life Sentences by Marilyn Barr

Valentine’s Day never fails to bring advertisements for diamonds, fancy candies, and over-priced flowers all in the name of love. Every year my soulmate gripes that he wishes romance were cheaper. Why not simply deliver the head of a nemesis or clamp onto a shoulder for a mating bite? Now every kiss begins with “cha-ching” and ends with “sign here, sir.” Even though we are forever Valentines, my spouse and I disappear into our books for the first half of February to avoid the commercial hubbub. Wouldn’t life be easier if we instantly knew our fated mates and didn’t have to jump through the financial hoops of wooing?

This is why I write “insta-lust” or the “fated mates” trope. Whether he falls first, or they experience love at first sight, I prefer to skip the wooing and go straight to facing adversity as a team. This is easier said than done—especially when writing a snow monster romance. I had to create dushevnayasvyaz…

What is a dushevnayasvyaz? The approximate translation from Russian is soul-bond-bond, so it is the magical mating bond between a Chuchunya (Siberian yeti) and their chosen mate (another monster or human.) They are born with a perfect match—no heart-shaped box of chocolates is required. The dushevnayasvyaz also provided a means to rectify some giant plot holes when writing about getting freaky in Siberia.

The first glaring problem I found was the cold. Taking off your clothes in negative eighty-degree Fahrenheit temperatures (-62 Celsius) is stupid at best, and fatal at worst. What if this dushevnayasvyaz changed the Chuchunya biology to heat the cave? He would be uncomfortably warm and would know his soulmate on a biological level. They would have all the fun and none of the frostbite.

The second problem is predators. From wolves to tigers, Siberia has an abundance of hungry animals hunting endangered herbivores. They would love a Chuchunya or a human meal and follow their scents for miles. More important to romance readers, how would a heated, furry individual smell after a few months of hibernation? Yikes! The dushevnayasvyaz causes the Chuchunya to emit pheromones in conjunction with his mate’s cycle to not only entice her but also to confuse predators. What’s the scent? Find out with Dr. Vera when she travels to Siberia and is Cuddling My Chuchunya (now available on kindle unlimited here.)

But why stop at monsters? Pirates, always interested in acquiring wealth, need fated mates without the expensive three-course chef-inspired meal, too. My next release, Quartermaster, is part of a multi-author series called “The Mortar & Pestle.” This magical stone bowl and grinding implement show the user their heart’s desire with sensory clues such as a whispered message of true love, a scent, or colored smoke. Grab your copy of the sneak peek book of the series here for my favorite Valentine’s Day price—free.

Since Chub is the Quartermaster of a 1725 pirate ship, the Mortar & Pestle grabs his attention with golden smoke pointing to his destined lady love. Who am I kidding? This is a Marilyn Barr book—of course, she’s no lady. She’s hiding a monstrous side. And he’s a man of action, so the Mortar & Pestle doesn’t deliver the message in the quiet confines of a kitchen. 

Chub is struck with inspiration—literally—in the middle of a bar fight. Here’s an exclusive look at Chub’s epiphany in Quartermaster.

I bend below the soldier’s cross-slash and twist to look for Cookie under the table, where I left her. Our hiding place is empty. She couldn’t have gotten past me, right? Folded in my crouch, I pivot on my toes to check Teeth’s path for the girl’s feet. Nothing. I pivot to the other side to check for her under Flash’s feet. When I can’t see her shoes, I stand to full height…

Only to get clocked over the head with a stone bowl.

I stumble until my hands plant on the table beside me. A buzzing fills my ears to drown out the battle sounds. I think I’ve split my tongue because the coppery taste of blood coats my mouth. Tingles race up and down my limbs like mice scurrying within a larder, and black spots wink in my vision as the room is lost in a haze of golden smoke.

An ethereal voice says, “true love.”

I swing around to backhand my assailant with the hilt of my sword, but my arm wobbles. A soft, slender hand grips my forearm. I alternate squinting and forcing my eyes wide to take in who has my limb. Cookie’s feminine features blur into clarity, only to be lost again to the haze in my head. I miss her sandy brown eyes. Her pupils have blown with hysteria, so they block out the color.

Did the disguised wench smash me dome with a bowl?

“Chub, are you okay? Can you see me?” Cookie yells with increasing pitch. “What have I done? Chub, we’ve got to go!”

Quartermaster is on preorder for 99c here until 3/14/2023 as part of the Mortar & Pestle books series. One-click the entire 7-book series from 900 AD to modern-day romances for $6.93 here and get lost in true love that never dies…unlike the fresh roses at 10X the price.