I did it! I'm free. Well sort of. Freedom isn't as cut and dried as the word implies. In this case, I'm at the top of Death's Worst Reaper Ever list. What it signifies remains to be seen. I broke free from Death because there wasn't any other way out of Reaping Vampires. She refused to let me off the hook or consider other arrangements. I'd have been content leaving it at that, but word about my choice got out. Other Reapers clamored for independence too. Death's fury expanded another notch with every defection until nowhere is far enough away for me to run to. If I was only fighting her, it might be manageable. Toss in Vampires who hate my guts, a phalanx of dark gods who want my hide, and a bunch of bigoted mortals who've decided magic is holding them back. Pah. They're their own worst enemy, but they're the least of my problems. It's been a rocky journey. Along the way I've uncovered allies and even a man who loves me. Will we be enough to slam the gates and send darkness packing?We have to be. No prisoners. No choices.

Untamed Reaper - Gatekeeper, #3

Rowan hasn't made a dent in coming to terms with her black-to-his bones dragon father when she gets pregnant. The dragon-child isn't even here yet, but everyone's already fighting over his future. The third (and last) book in a magic-laced, fast-paced, fantasy trilogy. With dragons. I'm being pulled nine ways at once. Brand new mating. Brand new pregnancy. Stronger magic than I'm used to. The Nine Worlds are failing. Rot that began on Earth has spread to Vanaheim. Odin knows more than he's telling us, and no one has any interest in working together. The only thing everybody has in common is a sudden, weird fascination with my baby. The dragons want him raised on Fire Mountain. The Celts want us in Inverlochy Castle with them. Hel hasn't weighed in, but I bet she'd like to see her grandson in Niflheim where she can dandle him on her knees every day. If it weren't for the catastrophe looming over our heads, Bjorn and I would escape to a distant borderworld and never look back. It's always an option. Good to preserve as many of those as possible. Keep your fingers crossed for me. And my son. See you on the other side.

Dragon's Heir - Dragon Heir, #3

Learn magic they said. Or at least shore up your paltry skills. Talk is cheap, and that edict has cost me dearly. I had a comfortable life, once upon a time. A quiet life. One where I'd carved a realistic niche for myself. No more. Power is seductive, and a bitch of a mistress. Once I pulled the cork out of that bottle, a million genies sallied forth. None of them were nice. No one offered me three wishes, or any wishes at all. I've been working my fanny off for the last two years. Most days, I slog along from dawn to dusk and beyond. Sleep has turned into a distant memory. When I do lie down-or fall on my face, which is what really happens-my mind whirls in circles as I relive the failures du jour. And the very occasional success. I am stronger. So much stronger it scares me. My talent sparkles, flowing bright and clean. Soon, I'll leave the well-hidden spot that's allowed me time to claim what's mine. Whether my crash course in sorcery was wise remains to be seen.

Hunted - Wayward Mage, #2

Come fly with me. Catchy, huh? It works for airplanes. Maybe it will work for the dead once I launch my own Reaping business. Except my new tagline will be, come die with me. Back when my life was simpler, I thought all I had to do was hold gateways for the dead to pass through. Silly me, I actually enjoyed Reaping. Almost like a drug or fine old whiskey, it made me high, filled me with delight, and left me glowing with the rightness of providing a last bit of compassion. Good little Reaper that I am, I never examined any of it too deeply, just crafted portals, exactly as Death trained me. Ha! She neglected to mention I command way more magic than she'd let on in Reaper school. Death smiled pretty to my face and then lied to me. Used me. Me and all the other Reapers. I can't not Reap. It's hardwired into me. But I can tell Death I quit. Big words. I have no idea if I've got the guts to follow through, or what Death would do about open insubordination. I've always liked to live on the wild side, though, so I guess I'm about to find out.

Rebel Reaper - Gatekeeper, #2

Urban fantasy and slow-burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds. Faery has changed so much I barely recognize her. I suppose every regent who loses a major war feels the same way about his country. The worst part is I didn't see this coming. A few minor skirmishes, sure, but the Unseelie fielded tens of thousands against us. The King of Winter is finally exacting revenge against the consort who spurned him. The rest of us are collateral damage. He played his hand well, attracted powerful allies, and punted us into a definite one-down position. For the moment. Pegasus is the king's primary ally. I possess knowledge that will blow their partnership sky high. And proof in case neither of them believes me. Timing is everything, though. Not putting my evidence in danger is at the tiptop of my list. I love Dariyah, and I wouldn't draw attention her way if it weren't necessary. She'd pooh-pooh my pussyfooting around. Even if I wanted to muffle her connection to Pegasus, she'd overrule me and throw it in his horsey face. We must wrest Faery from the enemy. I finally hold the land link, but success is far from a foregone conclusion. More blood will flow before we're done. Buckets of the stuff, but I can't let that stop me.

Court of the Fallen - Magick and Misfits, #3

Fitting in has never been in the cards. Not part of the hand Fate dealt me. My superpower is animals, magical and otherwise. They adore me. Birds and insects too. Back when the Celts still roamed the Highlands, I begged them to shed light on how I came to be since my power is unique. You can guess how well that went. They're a taciturn, entitled lot. I didn't shed a single tear when they packed up and left Earth. Other mages don't care for me. They don't trust my one-of-a-kind magic. On my more generous days I don't blame them. For now, I run a tiny private investigator shop in the Scottish Highlands. Mortals are quick to hire me because I always solve their problems. Using magic is cheating, but they'll never find out. Most days, it's a delicate dance. If I get lucky, no other mage has it in for me. But I'm still stuck hanging onto enough of a glamour to fool mortals. Occasionally, I want to pack it all in and vanish to.well, to somewhere else. No one to blame but myself when my life skids off the rails.

Jinxed - Wayward Mage, #1

Vampires don't fall in love. Except I did. Not the best decision of my long life. I definitely cracked an unspoken line, but Ariana trounced me as far as line-crossing went. Very few acts constitute crimes in Vampire circles. Hers was the worst. I fled to the Old Country to buy myself thinking time. I still loved her, but what she'd done was so vile I couldn't set it aside. The world is a very different place from when I went into stasis. I woke to wars on every side. Vampires are scarcely strangers to battle. No one's ever accepted us, but they've mostly let us be. It's different this time. Very different. Mortals won't rest until they've wiped out magic. Normally, their efforts would be laughable, but they've co-opted help from mages. Ones they've imprisoned and systematically stripped of power until the poor sods would agree to anything in exchange for their freedom-and their magic. We face huge problems, but I'm tackling them one by one. I'll return to Ariana's side, but perhaps only as her comrade-in-arms. Time will tell if we can be more to each other. Time and circumstances. In a world without magic, Vampires will wither along with every other magic-wielder. I cannot let that happen.

Cracked Line - Cataclysm, #3

I chose stasis-a long sleep-for me and two of mine. Hard to time these things, but we woke in the eye of a cyclone. When I went to sleep-to avoid being drained of magic and blood by dark Sorcerers-Vampires weren't exactly on the endangered species list, but not many of us are left. No one ever accepted us. Not mortals and not others with power, either. At least one of those dams has developed a few cracks. Supernaturals aren't quite welcoming, but they'll take help from any quarter. Mortals have declared war on magic, and they won't rest until we're all sitting in iron-clad prisons. What a bunch of cowards. If they weren't hiding behind false humanitarian walls, they'd be honest about their intentions and kill us outright if they could. The world turned into an alien place while I slept. Not much point returning to my clan house in Italy. It's probably long since disbanded. Besides, fate tossed me squarely in Ariana's path. She's like me, a Vampire, but I hunger for her in a very un-Vampirelike way. She's done her damnedest to chase me away, but I'm tough to dissuade. She doesn't know it, but I won't back off until she's mine. No matter what it takes.

Warped Line - Cataclysm, #2

The dead are restless, and a whole lot less cooperative than they have been. That was true even before I drew the short straw and ended up with Vampire duty. Since then, Reaping has taken way more time. So much, I'm worried I'll lose all the clients from the career that actually feeds me. I run a small private pilot school. It pays most of the bills and means I don't have to keep regular hours. Death wants me to remain in one piece. She's bailed me out often enough, she's all but ordered me to find other employment. I just smile and nod after our little talks, and then I climb back into a cockpit. Our last toe-to-toe didn't go so well. She went and assigned Vampires to me. That's when Reaping turned into a million-hour-a-week job. I can almost hear the Reaper who was stuck with them before, laughing his head off. I shepherd souls to the other side. Vampires have zero interest in leaving, but I have a quota to fill. Means I have to trick them, but it didn't work for long. They're onto me. Damn Death, anyway. She painted a target on my back, and now the Vamps are out for blood. In more ways than one.

Shadow Reaper - Gatekeeper, #1

If they had one of those anonymous rehabilitation programs for folks like me, my introduction would be, "Hi, I'm Shira, and I kill people." Except rehab suggests killing people bothers me. It doesn't. Neither am I particularly committed to anything other than not being caught. That sounded a shred on the hard-hearted side. I'm not. I'm a lot like you. I get up every morning, clean myself up, and check my phone to see what I have cooking. Everyone has a job. Mine happens to be ridding the world of people who shouldn't be here. Not that I'm making those decisions. People hire me, and I trust they've done their homework. I've always been.different, never had a close circle of friends or even associates. Once I discovered I could do unusual things, I kept to myself. Those rare skills make me a perfect choice because I kill from a distance and leave no evidence. What I do is lucrative. I'm pretty much set even for my rather long lifetime. In theory, I could quit anytime. I say that after every job. That I should walk away, except I don't. Tell you what. Don't judge me, and I might spare you if your number comes up on my dance card. Deal?

Shira - Circle of Assassins, #1

My very existence is under attack. I've kept a low profile, told myself the craziness sweeping the world would pass me by. Yeah, it was wishful thinking, actually an outright lie, but it's kept me sane. I've been hiding out forever in one guise or another. Currently, I run a nightclub. Ascent is an "ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies" haven. For everybody. I'm a Vampire. Far be it from me to judge. My closest ally is a shapeshifting dire wolf. I adopted him when he was a scrawny puppy, but I'm getting ahead of my tale. The fragile détente between supernaturals and humans has crashed and burned. I can't avoid the truth any longer. Lucky for me, mortals don't know exactly what I am. When I moved to Seattle, some vampiric sixth sense urged me to play my cards close to my vest, but I'm done burying my secrets. And my power. It's past time for supernaturals to get over their stupid infighting. Meh. So what if Witches hate Druids? Or Fae never deal with Sorcerers? We have to pull together, or we'll have no chance at all. Not that it's likely, but if any mortals see the light and sign up for our side, we'd damn well better welcome them. I'm Ariana Hawke. No more skulking in the shadows for me.

Harsh Line - Cataclysm, #1

Urban fantasy and slow burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds. Faery's castle lies in ruins, a reflection of the rest of a land I love. My land, my realm, has altered almost beyond recognition. The part that hasn't changed is the incredible people and creatures who live in Faery. Unicorns. Fauns. Satyrs. Fae. Sidhe. To name but a few. Their spirits have been indomitable, and it makes me proud to call them brothers. But then, the Unseelie used to be brethren too. Now they stand against us along with a collection of monsters intent on sucking every last breath of life from Faery. The worst part about all of this has been not knowing whom I can call friend. Faery, the incarnation of the land that bears her name, recovered her body, but I don't trust her. Our lead seer confessed her visions have been tainted. We are in the thick of things. As we lurch into the endgame, my life, soul, and fortunes are linked with the woman I love. We rise-or fall-together. If it comes down to a gut-wrenching choice, will I pick Faery or Dariyah?

Court of Destiny - Magick and Misfits, #4

Urban fantasy and slow burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds. Reluctant recruit to the nines, I became Faery's regent by default. Sure, I was next in line for the throne, but I never believed Oberon and Titania were gone for good until first a decade rolled by, and then two, and then ten. They'll never be back, and the land is mourning. Or pissed. It's hard to tell which, and I'm not sure what difference it makes. I split my time between Faery and Earth searching for a way to mend the rift that's killing my realm. I haven't made much progress. Time is running through the glass, mocking my paltry efforts. A sultry Witch is barely a blip on the radar. So what if she counts cards in the casino I run on Earth and makes my pit boss a little nuts? Out of the blue, she spits out the unbelievable, and I discover she's not a Witch after all. A glamour hid her Fae-Sidhe blood so well, she'd fooled me. Her mixed blood is an affront. By rights, I should haul her before the Court to face justice. She understood the chance she took revealing herself to me, and her offer to join forces is tempting, but it could cost me my throne. Some risks are worth the price. If I cross the line, there'll be no going back.

Court of Rogues - Magick and Misfits, #1

An empty stretch of highway. A freak electrical storm. A bus full of strangers. And a mysterious bus driver with a rather peculiar agenda. America the Horrific: An Anthology of Horror presents eleven tales of terror in the tradition of classic storytelling. When a freak storm strands a bus on a deserted stretch of highway, the passengers find themselves suddenly "disconnected" from the world. To pass the time, the driver suggests that each passenger share something about their hometown ... but only if it is something scary. The passengers soon learn that, despite their differences, they do share one thing in common: their shared world is a very scary place.

Livres