There are two things Darby Adler wants more than anything: to take a vacation, and to find who is responsible for the rash of witch abductions in Knoxville.
With an ancient vampire in town and a slew of fugitives on the loose, her suspect pool is vast. But Darby has a sneaking suspicion she knows the culprit all too well.
And if she can’t catch him on her own, she might just have to resort to more creative measures to get the job done.
Here’s hoping she doesn’t lose her soul in the process.
Hooking a finger in the bridge of my sunglasses, I pinned him with a cold glare. “Tell me, is it fibbies in general, my gender, or me in particular you don’t like, Preston? Because this is the second time in a matter of days that you have skirted around another agent to tell me to get off a crime scene, and I gotta say, it’s pissing me off.”
A sneer curled his lip as he planted his feet, leaning forward just a touch too close for my comfort. “Maybe I don’t like your kind, Warden,” he growled, cutting through any and all levels of pretense. “Maybe I don’t like trying to clean up arcane fuck shit on my only day off. Maybe I—”
I caught sight of his KPD brethren stopping to stare, and cut him off.
“Shut. Up,” I growled, fighting off the urge to cover his mouth with my hand. The absolute last thing I needed was a cranky beat cop exposing the arcane world to all a fucking sundry. “If you know who I am and even an inkling of what’s good for you, you will keep your fucking mouth shut until I tell you to open it.”
Snatching my cell from my back pocket, I dialed Tobin’s number.
“Yeah, boss?” he answered, the timid waver to his voice gone now that he was alone in the house and couldn’t see my face. Tobin didn’t like direct contact of any kind, but on the phone? In front of a computer? He was an absolute powerhouse.
“I need everything you have on an Officer N. Preston.” I squinted at the shield pinned to his chest. “Badge number 745632. And I need it yesterday, if you please.”
Tobin paused briefly, a faint snicker rattling down the line. Tobin loved it when other people were in trouble. His keyboard clacking like machine gun fire was music to my ears. “On it. Give me five.”
Without so much as a nod to polite phone etiquette, the line disconnected, and I stuffed the cell back in my pocket. I’d have to talk to him about that.
Staring at the prick whose face had turned an unhealthy shade of puce in the short time I was on the phone, I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes.
“Now that’s done, what were you saying about my kind, again? Not that you know what my kind even is or what I’m capable of.” The subtle buzz around the guy had a solid human flavor to it, but I’d been wrong before. I’d been wrong about a lot of things.
Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life… interesting.
Title: Arcadia Author: Al Stone Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
AN UNTOLD PROPHECY, A BROKEN COVENANT AND A FALLEN ANGEL AS AN ALLY.
WILL CHARLIE SURVIVE?
Arcadia, 10th Anniversary Edition is a complete collection, featuring three full length novels in a single volume for the first time. A young-adult fantasy series full of magic, mythology and adventure. Perfect for fans of Harry Potter, Percy Jackson and Lord of the Rings.
Talisman Of El They have always been here … watching in silence. Now both worlds are about to collide.
Charlie Blake has always known he was different. He hears what others don’t. He sees what others can’t. In his quest for the truth, he discovers he is the physical embodiment of a powerful ruler and finds himself locked in an ancient battle between good and evil that threatens the life of every being on Earth.
Blackout Hold your breath. It’s contagious.
Saving mankind becomes near impossible when Charlie’s visions start to invade his reality. He can no longer identify what’s real. When he starts exhibiting symptoms of a deadly disease, he faces a race against time to find a cure, but shocking revelations makes him question where his true allegiance lies.
Ground Zero Mankind’s only hope is not human. Approach with caution.
26,000 years ago, a supernatural apocalypse almost wiped out civilisation. Now that time has come again and no one is destined to survive. Charlie Blake is determined to stop the apocalypse, but fate might not have the same agenda. Is Charlie destined to save the world or destroy it?
The image vanished, and Charlie found himself staring at Derkein, who was standing in front of him, gripping his shoulders. ‘Charlie, can you hear me?’ Derkein asked.
Charlie blinked hard. He looked through the single-arched doorway behind Derkein, but all he saw was the forest.
‘Hey,’ Derkein said, ‘talk to me.’
‘There used to be a palace here,’ Charlie said.
‘Doesn’t look like a palace now,’ Richmond observed.
Derkein let go of Charlie, his expression anxious. ‘All right, I think it’s time we head back to the campsite.’
They started to head off when Charlie suddenly stopped.
‘What is it?’ Alex asked.
Charlie’s eyes swept the forest. ‘I heard something.’ He expected Candra to pop out of her hiding place. Instead, he saw the red-haired boy he had seen earlier that day, watching him from behind a tree. ‘Hey. Where’s my bag?’
The boy’s eyes widened in shock, and he took off.
‘Hey.’ Charlie chased after him.
‘Charlie,’ Derkein called. ‘Charlie, get back here.’
Charlie didn’t stop. With the burning torch still in his hand, he raced through the forest after the boy. ‘Stop!’ he yelled. ‘I just want my bag.’ The boy was a good thirty feet ahead of him. What do they feed this kid?
‘Charlie,’ he heard Derkein call. It wasn’t until a loud cry reached him that he stopped.
It was Alex.
He turned around but saw no sign of the others. Panicked, he looked back at the boy, who had also stopped, and then he turned and ran back the way he had come.
It didn’t take him long to spot Derkein. When he got closer, he saw Richmond, who was now on his feet, Alex’s burning torch slowly fading on the ground beside him. But where was Alex?
Seeing Derkein and Richmond glancing up into a tree, he followed their gazes and spotted Alex trapped in a rope net.
‘It could be worse,’ Richmond said. Charlie and Derkein glanced at him. ‘What? It could be.’
Derkein’s gaze shifted to Charlie, and the lines on his forehead smoothed out, his expression stern. ‘Didn’t we just have a conversation about you running off?’
‘I know,’ Charlie said, ‘but I was trying to get my bag back.’
Derkein looked confused. ‘It’s not just going to fall out of the sky.’
‘What? No, that kid –’
‘Ah, hello,’ Alex said hotly. ‘Girl in a rope here. I don’t know about you guys but I’m thinking whoever set this trap might come back.’
Charlie looked up at her, her body bent in an awkward position with her legs reaching high above her head, and a faint smile crept onto his face. ‘Hang in there, Alex,’ he called up to her.
‘You just wait till I get down, Charlie Theodore Blake,’ she threatened.
Charlie looked at him, his smile fading. ‘Shut up.’
Derkein cleared his throat to refocus their attention. ‘How are we going to get her down, boys?’ he asked.
Charlie glanced back up at the tree. The distance between Alex and the ground was at least twelve feet, twice Derkein’s height. To get her down, Derkein would have to hoist Charlie onto his shoulders and then some.
As Derkein pondered a strategy, Charlie’s focus shifted to the thudding sound he heard coming towards them. Before he even had time to panic, the sound died almost as soon as it had begun.
He turned around and froze, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears as he stared at the line of people armed with shiny blades and arrows pointed at his head.
Al Stone is the author of the Arcadia Saga (YA Fantasy). After graduating with a BA in Film & Television, Al worked in the television industry for a brief period before a disabling injury led to a pursuit in storytelling. Talisman Of El is Al’s debut novel. The sequels Blackout and Ground Zero are currently available for sale.
There once were two children, a girl and a boy. One could create, the other, destroy.
Within every heart lies the power to bond or break.
On an isolated port of floating garbage called Hop, Gaiel Izz and his sister, Lynd, never imagined they’d be able to change anything…
Not their nasty neighbors, not their hungry bellies, and especially not their missing father.
That will change when they discover the power of myracles — magic that either creates or destroys.
As the brother and sister set across Esa to bring their family back together, this power will either unite them or shatter their entire world to pieces.
It will all come down to what truly lies within their hearts…
What a delightful sign to have hanging in front of one’s home — a mix of “watch out” with “you’re on your own.” But that’s living in Hop for ya, a’kay?
As a floating port in the middle of the sea, there weren’t any roads to or from Hop. On their own, indeed. But it wasn’t always so lonely. Fifty years ago, Hop was a bustling pitstop for the hundreds of trade ships sailing across the Domus Gulf every year. A place to “hop” from one side of the gulf to the other. Being a travel hub made it bursting with exotic goods and fresh ideas. But the wild waters of the gulf were hard to predict, and they only seemed to grow more dangerous over time. One shipwreck was enough to send thoughts and prayers, but after ten and twenty ships washed back blown to bits, it started to nip at the profits. Soon traders found alternate land routes that may have taken longer, but at least weren’t so death-y.
Practically overnight, Hop and its people were forgotten like a used hanky in a puddle. Trapped on a floating port amid the unfor‐ giving sea, a stagnant idea stuck to them — anything made would just be unmade. What was to stop anything they worked hard to build from falling to pieces like Hop did? Nothin’ lasts butsalt in yer ass became the most graffitied words on the splintering streets, a series of long planks called “Boards.” Was there any point in shining your shoes, doing your hair, brushing your teeth? They would all end up dirty, tasseled, and yellow. Undone, eventually. Was there any point in building relationships, then? Nothing lasts but the salt in their asses, indeed.
Just behind that friendly “red tide” warning sign on Boulie Board, a skinny wreck of a home rose from the battered planks. Its number, 76, was drawn large and wide on the front and side in “Hopper White,” a local specialty paint whose main ingredient was seagull poop. Nothing could be wasted in Hop, not even waste. The pieces that made up the home had a kind of widely used look about them, like maybe that wall had once been the barnacled belly of a rowboat, and before that, it was a sign that said HOP: POPULATION 600. Its door was a full fourteen shades of a should-I-touch-that sort of green and was cracked at the bottom up to the knob. Its two sea-weathered windows were small and narrow like suspicious eyes squinting at the neighbors. By Hopper standards, the Izz family actually had quite a fine little nest.
The only reason the Izz house somewhat outshined its raggedy neighbors was because of the family’s firstborn, Gaiel Izz. Gai liked to fix things when they broke. Something about broken objects made him queasy, compulsive even; a roar in the belly yapping at him to make it better. As for the things he couldn’t fix, he’d at least insist on putting a sheet of soggy newspaper over it or something. In fact, he patched so many holes in his clothes with newspaper that it became the dominant fabric. It crinkled as he walked.
One special night, this industrious fifteen-year-old was lying motionless on the floor in one of the home’s damp upstairs bedrooms. His right ear was practically suctioned to the floorboards as he listened carefully for any signs of movement downstairs. He’d been listening so long his ear had become a bright, throbbing mushroom. This night, he’d embark on his most ambitious fixing project yet — his twelve-year-old sister, Lynd.
While Gai may have been on the floor, he wasn’t out of bed. The floor was both of the Izz children’s bed. Many, many things floated by Hop in the strong currents, like sunken ship junk or garbage from far off Electri City on the mainland. But few were “cozy” materials for them to scoop out and use to make bedding. Since nothing came in or out of Hop, if a Hopper wanted something new, they’d best grab a scoop and pray to Zeea that whatever they needed happened to be floating by that day. Gai once scooped an armful of braided anchor rope and wove it into a nice blanket. He looked over at Lynd sleeping on it, snoring like a ship headed out to sea
— Twaahhh! Peaceful as she seemed, her little hands kept pulling at the fraying edges of the rope-blanket, almost like tearing it apart soothed her as a babe suckling their thumb would. She was definitely not a fixer like her brother. Truly, she was quite the opposite.
