Prophecy of the Most Beautiful by Diantha jones

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AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE |

Synopsis 
 

She has a destiny so great that even the gods fear her.

Constant hallucinations and the frequent conversations with the voices in her head, have earned eighteen-year-old Chloe Clever the not-so-coveted title of “Whack Job” in her home town of Adel, Georgia. Fed up with prescription meds and therapists, she wishes for a life where she is destined to be more than the butt of everyone’s jokes and mockery.

Be careful what you wish for has never rung more true.

After a vicious attack and learning that her favorite rockstar is an Olympian god, she is thrust into her new life as the Oracle of Delphi, the prophesier of the future. Setting out to fulfill the prophecy she has been given, Chloe learns of how great she is to become, all the while fighting mythical monsters and trying to outwit the ever-cunning Greek gods who harbor secrets of their own. While on a mission to discover the Most Beautiful, she strives to uncover the mysteries of the demigod Prince who has sworn to protect her with his life…and threatens to win her heart in the process

 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
 

Diantha Jones was born the day thousands of turkeys sacrificed their lives to fill millions of American bellies on November 22 which also happened to be Thanksgiving Day (Her mother says she owes her a turkey). She is a Journalism graduate who is working hard to be a career novelist (of books, not Facebook posts). When not writing or working, she is reading on her Nook or Kindle, getting drunk on Red Bulls, being hypnotized by Netflix or on a mission to procure junk food.

The Oracle of Delphi fantasy series is her first series. She is also the author of Mythos: Stories from Olympus, a companion series, and there is another fantasy series in the works.

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Giveaway is open to International. | Must be 13+ to Enter

Winner will receive a Signed print copy of Prophecy of the Setting Sunrise (Oracle of Delphi #2)

plus the matching charm bracelet by Diantha Jones.

Heir of the Dog by Hailey Edwards

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When the wrong fae answers her summons, Thierry finds herself saddled with a royal pain bent on making her life difficult. Well, more difficult. Her ex is back in town, her best friend is heartbroken and to top it all off, the Faerie High Court has issued her a summons.

Black Dog is missing, and the only hope of negotiating a truce between the light and dark fae vanished with him. Eager to avoid another Thousand Years War, the High Court reached out to the one person they believe can track him down–the daughter who shares his curse.

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAuthor Bio: 

A cupcake enthusiast and funky sock lover possessed of an overactive imagination, Hailey lives in Alabama with her handcuff-OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA carrying hubby, her fluty-tooting daughter and their herd of dachshunds.

Her desire to explore without leaving the comforts of home fueled her love of reading and writing. Whenever the itch for adventure strikes, Hailey can be found with her nose glued to her Kindle’s screen or squinting at her monitor as she writes her next happily-ever-after.

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BBBExcerpt

Quinn’s startled bellow when my magic threaded through his veins to his heart was deafening.

My ears rang as much from his screams as the collapse of his charm. Moonlight filtered through the fading tendrils of darkness, casting faint light between the squat buildings sandwiching the alley.

Glittering bones, each one picked clean and most gnawed to splinters, littered the street. Tossed aside like trash to rot among the wet newspapers and crumpled soda cans. Hard to know who or what left those behind. They weren’t troll kills. That much was for certain. They weren’t fresh kills, either.

Trolls were opportunistic. The odds Quinn had squatted in another fae’s territory were high. Yet another use for that blackout charm. Tack it up, say a Word to activate it, and the charm did the rest.

Power that rich could make any spot with a kernel of darkness blossom into an abyss.

One corpse, the girl whose disappearance tipped off the conclave about our rogue troll problem, sprawled in a heap of broken limbs. The toothpaste trick didn’t work as well on humans as it did on fae. Poor kid. I hated breaking bad news to parents who actually cared whether their children lived or died.

The troll’s wheezing forced my attention back to him. Enough stalling. Time to finish this.

“By the power vested in me as a marshal of the Southwestern Conclave, I condemn you to death for your crimes against humanity.” I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached and braced against the coming pain. “Your soul will now be extinguished and your remains claimed by the Morrigan, as is your right as a subject of House Unseelie. If you have sworn fealty to another deity, and if you wish your remains to be an offering to them, speak their name now or forever hold your peace.”

I took his silence as consent and willed a pulse of magic through the runes contacting his skin. A heartbeat later, searing heat cut across my jaw, a scalpel-sharp ache zigzagging past my temple and over my scalp. Razors slashed under my skin with every wicked slice my magic dealt O’Shea.

I hated this part, the severing of a soul from its host, the trimming away of the fat of life and the cauterizing of immortality. Fae were built to weather eternity. Few grasped true death in any context.

But we were all tangles of muscle and bone, flesh and blood, heads and hearts, weren’t we?

We could all die if the time was right. Sometimes we did even if it wasn’t.

I held O’Shea’s terrified gaze while the top layers of his skin peeled away from muscle like ripping off an old bandage. I owed him that. I was ending a man’s life and could damn well look him in the eye while I did it. The vicious teeth of my magic savaged his soul, rent the tatters of his self and devoured it whole.

Pleasant warmth suffused my limbs, sating the darker part of me who stared at carnage a little too long, watched each death a too closely and enjoyed a soul-induced high just enough to shove me spinning down a shame spiral only one person could stop.

I wish Shaw was here.

No. No, I didn’t. Sure he might pull me out of my guilt tailspin, but that meant talking to him, and if he got me on the phone, I knew what he would want to talk about. Us. Except there was no us. Not anymore.

The troll’s pupils had faded to milky white. He was an empty shell suspended by an intricate web of misery. Magic knifed under his flesh, jolting his corpse, seeping out his pores until his skin released with a wet kiss of sound and puddled at his ankles where the pinky-white folds withered into a dried husk.

What remained was a meat and bone sculpture of troll musculature ready for disposal. Time to ring the dinner bell.

Before gloving my hand, I tugged a quarter-size silver medallion from my shirt by its chain and palmed the cool metal. Rubbing a rune-covered thumb across the triskele stamped into its center, I summoned the Morrigan.

A breeze smelling of wood smoke and embers ruffled my hair. A pulse of black magic beat in the air before me. The ball of swirling mist drifted on the breeze. That…wasn’t right.

A carrion crow swarm that blotted out the sky then swooped to encircle an offering in a cawing black feather tornado complete with glowing ruby eyes? That was more her style.

This was something else—someone else. But who had the balls to claim her feast in their name?

I lowered my hand to my side where its luminescent threat remained visible.

“You summoned the Morrigan.” A thickly accented voice throbbed across my skin.

“I did, and you aren’t her.” The cadence of those words shivered through me. “Who are you?”

“Whoever you want, a stór.” His chuckle was worse, all buttery rich and inviting. Dangerous.

“I’m not your darling.” I raised my left hand. “By whose authority have you answered my call?”

A moment of silence passed. “I am the Morrigan’s son.”

“The Raven,” I breathed.

Her son and heir, Raven, an Unseelie prince. A prickle of unease quivered along my nape. A prince in the mortal realm. What on earth had lured him here? And did the conclave know? They had to, right? The prince must have used a tether to get here, and for visiting dignitaries, that required permission from the Faerie High Court on his side and the Earthen Conclave on this one.

Straightening my shoulders, I gestured toward the body. “Then you are welcome to your feast.”

“Who do I owe for this offering?” Amusement throbbed in that nebulous swirl of magic.

“Thierry Thackeray.” Not my Name, but a name nonetheless.

“Tee-air-ree.” He dragged out each syllable as if savoring the sound on his…well, he had no lips in this form.

“Let me grab this…” I knelt and rolled up the troll’s skin, “…and I’ll leave you to it.” Tucking the proof of death under my arm, I saluted the magic blob. “Enjoy your feast.”

Eager to put Raven behind me, I turned on my heel and strode toward the mouth of the alley, tugging my glove back in place. His mother tended to rip off limbs and gnaw on them like chicken wings instead of, oh, I don’t know, someone’s arm. I shuddered and kept on walking. However her son chose to dine, he was doing it alone.

“I will savor every bite.” His voice dogged my heels. “Go bhfeicfidh mé arís thú.”

Until we meet again.

Heir of the Dog: Copyright © 2015 by Hailey Edwards used with permission.

 

Tuesday Tales – Ring – Stars, Strips & Motorbikes

autumnWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is Ring.

Back to Stars, Stripes & Motorbikes.  After an encounter that had Autumn pushing Linc away, he took a step back. A few days later, he’s having lunch with Calli (sister of the hero in Stalled Independence, and whose own book, Luck of the Cowgirl is due out in March):

Linc tried his best to ignore the stare of the woman across from him, but she was relentless. After he’d finished his food and pushed aside his plate, he gazed out the window of the diner. The blonde continued her silent, intense vigil. He sighed. “What is it, Calli?”

“So what are you doing here? I mean, it’s been a few weeks and you’re not showing any sign of moving. So what is it?”

“Go ahead, ask the easy questions.” He chuckled and leaned his forearms on the table. “I don’t know, Calli. I needed a break from what I was doing.”

“And then came here and did it anyway. Clay told me you were helping out Hailey. You want to try again?”

“I really don’t know.” He rubbed his hands over his hair. “I had to move on, go somewhere else. I thought maybe I’d find somewhere along the way.”

“Somewhere to what?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

“So you haven’t found it yet.” She almost sounded disappointed.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my gawd, stop saying that.”

“Well, I don’t.” He laughed and ducked the fry she threw his direction. “I don’t want to disappoint my parents, but I just don’t think what I’m looking for is back home.”

“I’m sure Sally Dawson is so disappointed.” Calli’s mention of his long-ago ex didn’t help his restless mood. They’d dated in high school, but he’d broken up with her senior year after he signed up for the Army. He couldn’t count the number of ‘I’ll wait for you’ letters he got during his whole time in service.

“Boy is she ever.” Linc shook his head and leaned back. He draped his arms across the back of the booth. “I didn’t even try to give her any hope when I got home. No dates, no phone calls. That girl is crazy-persistent.”

“You’ve got the crazy part right.” Calli twirled a thumb near her temple and rolled her eyes around in circles, sticking her tongue out to elaborate her point.

Linc snorted. “Nice.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I wish I could say you were.”

“Trust me, that girl is nuts. I was on the receiving end of her wrath because I dared to be friends with you and joke around. Good thing I don’t pay much attention to smear campaigns, and I had my own problems at the time.”

“If I’d known I would have put a stop to it.”

“Pfft.” Calli waved off his comment. “It’s the past, and I’m not worried about it any longer. I mean, can you believe that was a decade ago?”

“Don’t say that.” Linc groaned. “You make me feel old.”

She leaned in and whispered, “A decade. Ten full years.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I know.” She giggled. Once she’d straightened, she kicked his shin until he met her gaze. “So what’s up with Autumn?”

“Nothing.”

Whether he’d said it too quick, or she simply didn’t believe him, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, she pursed her lips. “Liar. What’s going on? You haven’t been over there in days.”

“That’s because nothing is going on. She’s not interested.”

“Bull crap. That doesn’t ring true.”

He raised his brows. “She accused me of insinuating myself into her life because I was trying to help out. She wants nothing to do with a soldier, retired or not.”

“That’s because Grady—”

“Don’t you dare tell me!” He’d sounded harsh enough to make her eyes widen. He fidgeted in his seat. “Sorry. She doesn’t want to tell me and I’m not going to sneak around to find out what happened.”

“Oh, Linc. You’re hopeless. You like her.”

“Sure I do.  She’s sexy as hell, she’s funny, she knows her way around a garage.”

“Pig.”

“What? A girl grease monkey is hot.” He chuckled. “Let’s just say what little I know about her, I like. She never let me in enough to know if I could really like her more.”

“So? Go for it.”

“She doesn’t want me to. When she wasn’t outright protesting, I was more than willing. I asked her out probably ten times.” He shook his head, remembering their last encounter. The suggestion he was forcing himself in where he wasn’t welcome was enough to make him take a step back. “Whatever happened to her, she isn’t ready. I want to date her, not be her counselor.”

“You’re just giving up?” Her lower lip stuck out in an adorable pout. “What a shame. If Dee had done that with me…well, I’d be a lot more lonely.”

“I’m not lonely. I have a crazy, loony friend right here in front of me, a more sane one back at the shop. Who knows, maybe I’ll get back on the bike and head out west again.”

“You want to just pack up and leave again? Would that make you happy?”

“Don’t kick me for saying it again, but I don’t know.” He grunted when she kicked him anyway. “Stop that.”

“Now you’re just being a smartass. What about settling down? A family?”

“I guess I’ll find those things when I’m ready for them.” Truthfully, he thought he’d found a good place to settle down. He wasn’t so sure he was ready to take off again.

“Hm.” The arrival of their shakes interrupted Calli’s suspicious hum.

Line dove into his shake to avoid further interrogation. Much to his chagrin, she didn’t let him go so easy.

“So you don’t like it here, then?”

“No, I do.” He played with his straw. “You know, you’re worse than my mom.”

“I am not. She’d be relentless.” She flushed under his pointed glance. “I’m your friend, and I like it when you’re happy. I like it better when you’re nearby. You were never meant for Camden anyway.”

“And Lake Point is better, how? It’s still a small town where everyone knows everyone.”

“It just is. You know it, too.”

He lifted his glass in salute. “So you have a point. It is. Doesn’t mean I’ll stay.”

“Doesn’t mean you’ll leave, either.”

“Also true.”

 

*~*

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Sweet Surprise by Candis Terry

 

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Playing naughty or nice . . .


Fiona Wilder knows all about falling in lust. Love? That’s another story. Determined not to repeat past mistakes, the single mom and cupcake shop owner is focused on walking the straight and narrow. But trouble has a way of finding her. And this time it comes in the form of a smoking hot firefighter who knows all the delicious ways to ignite her bad-girl fuse. Can lead to heartbreak . . .

Firefighter Mike Halsey learned long ago that playing with fire just gets you burned. He’s put his demons behind him, and if there’s one line he won’t cross, it’s getting involved with his best friend’s ex. But when fate throws him in the path of the beautiful, strong, and off-limits Fiona, will he be able to fight their attraction? Or will he willingly go down in flames? Or a sweet surprise!

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*SCAVENGER HUNT*
 
Each host will have a
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You can enter ONE WORD per day, five words to find!

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Candis Terry was born and raised near the sunny beaches of
Southern California and now makes her home on an Idaho farm. She’s experienced
life in such diverse ways as working in a Hollywood recording studio to chasing
down wayward steers. Only one thing has remained the same: her passion for
writing stories about relationships, the push and pull in the search for love,
and the security one finds in their own happily ever after.
Find Candis Here
 
SOMETHING SWEETER by Candis Terry is the 
Harlequin Junkie Book Club Read for January!
 
Mark your calendars for Jan 29th!
(6pm PST/9pm EST)
 

Tuesday Tales – Stutter – Stars, Stripes & Motorbikes

autumnWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is Stutter.

Back to Stars, Stripes & Motorbikes.  Autumn has had an accident…and Linc comes to visit her in the hospital the next morning:

Linc stayed at the hospital for hours. While Autumn was in surgery for some internal bleeding, he sat with the now-cantankerous Murphy, who had yet to be officially released from the hospital yet. To keep his new friend happy, Linc demanded and sought out regular updates on Autumns surgery.

Two hours after they’d arrived at the hospital, Murphy was cleared and Clay showed up with clothes for all three of them, plus Murphy’s old prosthetic. Once Autumn was finally out of surgery and in a room, Linc sat with Murphy until she somewhat woke.

In a stroke of luck, as bad as her arm had looked at the accident, it hadn’t required surgery. While she’d been under anesthesia they’d fixed it up as well without having to cut it open. After all was said and done, and Murphy had been set up with a cot, Linc had gone home.

Every inch of him wanted to stay and make sure everything was all right, but he didn’t have the right to sit bedside vigil—at least not an overnight one. First thing the morning, he was back at the hospital though.

In the room sat one simple vase with a single large blue daisy. Spread around it on the table were dozens upon dozens of cards. Murphy sat beside Autumn, his hand on hers.

“Morning, Murphy.” Linc passed the cards to sit next to Murphy. “How’s she doing?”

“Good.” Murphy’s spirits had improved, as he even wore a sly grin as he checked the clock. “Woke up a couple of times last night. She’s in a fair amount of pain still, but overall she’s looking real good. They say she should be out in a day or two.”

“Glad to hear it.” Linc furrowed his brow as Murphy checked the clock again.

After a third check, Murphy smoothed his hands over his short hair and straightened his wrinkled shirt.

“Something going on there, sir?”

“No. Not at all.” Murphy resumed holding Autumn’s hand. “Why?”

“No reason, I guess.” Before Linc could say more, the door opened after a brief, brisk knock. A nurse bustled in, heading straight for the machines beside the bed.

Murphy straightened in his seat, a wicked grin on his features. “You’re five minutes early, Lucy. I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

“Oh, you hush now.” Even as she scolded him, the pretty older nurse blushed. “My rounds went faster than this time.”

“Well then you’re finishing them early. This is Linc, by the way. Now that he’s here, maybe you can show me where that coffee machine is. I wouldn’t mind the help before you head off your shift.”

“It would be my last task of the day.”

Linc couldn’t stop his double take. There was no doubt Murphy knew where the coffee machine was, he’d been to it last night. After another quick glance at Lucy and her rouge cheeks, Linc could only chuckle. “You know, Murphy. I’m happy to sit here for a while. You’re probably starving. Maybe you should have some breakfast.”

“What an excellent idea. That is, if Lucy could show me the way to the cafeteria.” Murphy clapped Linc on the shoulder.  “If that’s all right with you, Peanut.”

Sure enough, when Linc lifted his gaze, Autumn was blinking lazily at her dad. She smiled and nodded. “You need…eat…”  A small sigh slipped through the air as her eyes blinked slow a few times before closing again.

Murphy needed no further encouragement. Linc took his place closer to Autumn as he bustled about, telling Lucy he’d be along in a minute. After a few minutes, Murphy leaned down to kiss Autumn’s forehead.

As the pair spoke quietly, Linc let his gaze wander to afford them some privacy. The slew of cards on the bedside table drew his eye, each one he could see mentioned Grady. Most of them said they would be making a donation in his name in lieu of flowers for her. Linc was distracted from his curiosity by Murphy’s hearty farewell.

Once the room was quiet and still, Autumn groaned and let out a shaky breath. She smiled up at the ceiling, and shook her head. “Thank you, I guess. If you hadn’t suggested breakfast he would have continued stuttering and hemming and hawing. My dad will face battle, but cowers in fear at the thought of asking out a woman. He’ll flirt, but date?”

“Glad I could help, then.” Linc chuckled and rose so he could meet her gaze. “Now that he’s gone, how are you really doing?”

“Fuck, it hurts.” Her nostrils flared when she tried to move. “But what really sucks is being restricted. I hate this. I hate it.”

“I feel your pain on that one.” Linc shuddered. The worst part of his healing process had been when he’d been on restriction. “Something tells me you’re not one to sit still.”

“No, I’m not.”

“If you’re worried about the shop, I already offered to help.”

“No.” She sat up, her features twisted in panic. Immediately she winced and sank back against the bed. “I mean, you don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Linc leaned back and shrugged. Maybe if he kept it casual she wouldn’t freak out again. “I’d planned on being in town for at least a month anyway, I just failed to plan for something to do. Now I have something. I’m not one to sit around and do nothing any more than you are.”

“Did Dad ask you to help?”

He snorted and leaned forward. “Really? You think your dad is going to just straight out ask me for help? He knows you’d kill him, and me. I like your dad, but he’s a sneaky one.”

“Don’t I know it?” The smile she’d lost in her shock flickered back into view. “That’s why I appreciate you doing the same to him a few minutes ago.”

“Hey, anything to help a guy out. You good with him hooking up with your nurse?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve been pestering him to start dating for years.”

“Well, you finally accomplished it.”

“I hope so. Maybe he’ll stop meddling in my life.”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

She giggled, a sound that seemed helped along by the drug. “I know, right?”

 

*~*

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Grave Vengeance by Lori Sjoberg

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CoverBuy Links:  Amazon | B & N | iTunes | Kobo

Blurb

Handsome and haunted, he’s a reaper who prefers to work alone. But Fate has other plans for him and the sassy secret agent who shot him in another life—if their pasts don’t catch up with them first.

Dmitri Stavitsky has never played well with others—a Soviet KGB spy in life turned reaper after death, his work of bringing souls to the other side is best done alone. But orders from the top soon place him alongside fellow reaper Gwen Peterson, the American counter intelligence agent who took his life so many years ago.

Now, as a ghost from Gwen’s past resurfaces with the power to steal reapers’ souls, the two have no choice but to set aside their differences and apprehend the rogue together. But their cross-country mission soon ignites feelings Dmitri thought he was no longer capable of—for the woman who helped destroy him. With an ancient force and a small army against them, he’ll have to let go of old grudges or risk his future with Gwen…as Fate hangs dangerously in the balance.

Link to Follow Tour:  http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/01/grave-vengeance-grave-3-by-lori-sjoberg.html

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23404029-grave-vengeance?from_search=true

Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/114553-grave

*~*

Lori SjobergAuthor Info

Lori was a born a coal miner’s daughter. No wait, that’s not right.  Actually, she was born a carpenter’s daughter. Her mother was a housewife/homemaker/stay-at-home mom – whatever the politically correct term is these days.  Basically, she made sure Lori didn’t get into too much trouble, a task easier said than done.

Growing up the youngest of three girls, Lori never had control of the remote. (Not that she’s bitter about that. Really. Okay, maybe a little, but it’s not like she’s scarred for life or anything.) That meant a steady diet of science fiction and fantasy. Star Trek, Star Wars, Twilight Zone, Outer Limits – you name it, she watched it. It fed her imagination, and that came in handy when the hormones kicked in and she needed a creative excuse for being out past curfew.

After completing her first manuscript, she joined the Romance Writers of America and Central Florida Romance Writers. Now she exercises the analytical half of her brain at work, and the creative half writing paranormal romance. When she’s not doing either one of those, she’s usually spending time with her husband and children of the four-legged variety 

Author Links:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

*~*

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Excerpt 

People this side of town had a nasty habit of killing each other. Dmitri Stavitsky leaned against the wall of the Gas ’N Grub and hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. Stores around here closed before dark, with their doors double-bolted and metal gates rolled over the windows. The ice machine to his left made a continuous thunk-thunk-thunk sound that drowned out some of the traffic noise from the county road less than a hundred yards away. To his right, a group of teenage boys played basketball in front of a house no bigger than a two-car garage. The court was dirt and the hoop had no net, but the kids didn’t seem to mind.

The area was a familiar work site for reapers. Things had always leaned toward the dangerous side in the Midway district, but turf wars had claimed twelve lives in the past two weeks and even the police were keeping their distance after dusk. And with so many people dying in the streets, Dmitri had no choice but to rotate reapers into the area so no face would become too familiar with the locals.

Dmitri stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned away from the flashing blue lights. Without so much as a backward glance, he shuffled toward the main road. The police didn’t notice him and even if they did, they would assume he was just another vagrant passing through town. They’d never suspect his true nature, the predator lurking in plain sight. He reached the gas station about fifteen minutes later, the parking lot brightly lit and only one truck at the pumps.

Some sorry excuse for a human being had boosted his pride and joy. He’d left his classic Dodge Challenger coupe parked along the north side of the building by the pay phone, but now the spot sat empty.

Temper flaring, he kicked the nearby trash can. He’d put a lot of work into that fucking car. Last summer, he rebuilt the transmission and reupholstered the interior. It had taken him weeks to find the parts needed to fix the carburetor. Whoever stole it was in for a world of pain when he hunted them down. And he would. It was only a matter of time.

Dmitri retrieved his phone from his back pocket and scrolled through his list of contacts. All of the reapers in his unit were booked solid tonight, but a few were working in the general vicinity. Ruby had an eleven-fifteen down by Walt Disney World, but Adam wasn’t due to his appointment in Lake Mary for another ninety minutes.

Plenty of time to swing by and give him a lift.

He was waiting for Adam to pick up when a familiar rumble caught his attention. His head whipped toward the sound, his blood pressure spiking when he saw his own car swinging into the lot. The Challenger veered around the gas pumps and headed straight to where he stood. With the dark tint he couldn’t make out the driver right away, but as the car rolled closer, the person slowly came into view.

The driver’s side window rolled down, and an unwelcome blast from the past stared back at him. During their mortal lifetimes, she’d worked counterintelligence for the United States government. She’d updated her hairstyle since the last time they crossed paths, but other – wise she looked exactly the same. Same hazel eyes and angular face. Athletic build. Zero makeup. And judging by the condition of her fingernails, she still bit them regularly. Like most creatures of habit, Gwen Peterson abhorred change.

“That’s my car,” he bit out through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I know. I got bored waiting around for you, so I decided to take it out for a little spin.” After all these years, she still hadn’t lost an ounce of that grating New England accent. The honey-blond nightmare flashed him a grin, and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

She drummed her fingers against the top of the steering wheel. “It’s a really sweet ride, Red. You must have put a lot of work into it. Hop in. We’re late.”

“For what?”

Her grin widened to a smile. “You’ll see.”