Follow Me by Joanna Scott
I really enjoyed this long and well written book. It had a complex plot with characters that you actually cared about so I think that is one reason why I enjoyed this book. I liked the character of Sally alot I think her character was very complex and interesting. This is a great book and I would highly recomend it!
I would like to thank Valerie at Hachette Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Rise Again: A Zombie Thriller
Today I am participating in a blog tour for the book Rise Again by Ben Tripp.
Book Info:
(from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
A MYSTERIOUS CONTAGION. MASS HYSTERIA. SUDDEN DEATH.
And a warning that would come all too late . . .
Forest Peak, California. Fourth of July. Sheriff Danielle Adelman, a troubled war veteran, thinks she has all the problems she can handle in this all-American town after her kid sister runs away from home. But when a disease-stricken horde of panicked refugees fleeing the fall of Los Angeles swarms her small mountain community, Danny realizes her problems have only just begun—starting with what might very well be the end of the world. Danny thought she had seen humanity at its worst in war-torn Iraq, but nothing could prepare her for the remorseless struggle to survive in a dying world being overrun by the reanimated dead and men turned monster. Obsessed with finding her missing sister against all odds, Danny's epic and dangerous journey across the California desert will challenge her spirit . . . and bring her to the precipice of sanity itself. . . .
Filled with adventurous human drama—and shocking inhuman horror—Rise Again marks a vivid and powerful fiction debut.
My Review:
I thought this book was ok. I liked its writting style. I thought I would enjoy this book alot more then I did so I was disappointed. I would recomend it for people who like to read zombie novels but if that genre is not for you than I would not recomend it.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Book Info:
(from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
A MYSTERIOUS CONTAGION. MASS HYSTERIA. SUDDEN DEATH.
And a warning that would come all too late . . .
Forest Peak, California. Fourth of July. Sheriff Danielle Adelman, a troubled war veteran, thinks she has all the problems she can handle in this all-American town after her kid sister runs away from home. But when a disease-stricken horde of panicked refugees fleeing the fall of Los Angeles swarms her small mountain community, Danny realizes her problems have only just begun—starting with what might very well be the end of the world. Danny thought she had seen humanity at its worst in war-torn Iraq, but nothing could prepare her for the remorseless struggle to survive in a dying world being overrun by the reanimated dead and men turned monster. Obsessed with finding her missing sister against all odds, Danny's epic and dangerous journey across the California desert will challenge her spirit . . . and bring her to the precipice of sanity itself. . . .
Filled with adventurous human drama—and shocking inhuman horror—Rise Again marks a vivid and powerful fiction debut.
My Review:
I thought this book was ok. I liked its writting style. I thought I would enjoy this book alot more then I did so I was disappointed. I would recomend it for people who like to read zombie novels but if that genre is not for you than I would not recomend it.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Ecstasy in Darkness
Today im participating in a blog tour for the book Ecstasy in Darkness by Gena Showalter.
Book info:
(from publisher Simon & Schuster)
New York Times bestselling sensation Gena Showalter enthralls with a dark, tantalizing world of humans, otherworlders, powers beyond imagining, and a seductive vampire undone by his insatiable hunger for one woman. . . .
Growing up poor on New Chicago's meanest streets, Ava Sans had two options: be the predator or be the prey. No contest. Now, working for Alien Investigation and Removal, she's been ordered to capture the biggest, baddest warrior of all—a vampire too beautiful to be real, with the abilityto manipulate time. Once the leader of the entire vampire army, McKell has been deemed savage and unstable, spurned even by his own kind.
To McKell, humans should be nothing more than sustenance. Yet the petite, golden-skinned Ava is a fascinating contradiction—vicious yet witty, strong yet vulnerable, lethal but fiercely loyal. Against his better judgment, McKell craves that loyalty, and much more. When the chase leads to seduction, McKell and Ava will race to discover the truth about his past. But the answers will come at a price, even for a woman who thought she had nothing left to lose. . . .
Author info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
GENA SHOWALTER is the New York Times and national bestselling author of more than twenty novels in a wide range of genres, including her acclaimed Alien Huntress series for Pocket Books: Awaken Me Darkly, Enslave Me Sweetly, Savor Me Slowly, Seduce the Darkness, and Ecstasy in Darkness. Her fiction has appeared in Cosmopolitan and Seventeen and has been nominated for a prestigious RITA, as well as the National Reader's Choice Award. She is universally acknowledged to be "made of awesome." Visit her website at http://www.genashowalter.com/
My Review:
This novel was a very well written Paranormal romance. I thought this book was a little long but it actually wasnt that bad. This book is a good read if your someone who likes (or loves) romance novels but even people who dont like them may enjoy this book as well! I would recomend this book.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Book info:
(from publisher Simon & Schuster)
New York Times bestselling sensation Gena Showalter enthralls with a dark, tantalizing world of humans, otherworlders, powers beyond imagining, and a seductive vampire undone by his insatiable hunger for one woman. . . .
Growing up poor on New Chicago's meanest streets, Ava Sans had two options: be the predator or be the prey. No contest. Now, working for Alien Investigation and Removal, she's been ordered to capture the biggest, baddest warrior of all—a vampire too beautiful to be real, with the abilityto manipulate time. Once the leader of the entire vampire army, McKell has been deemed savage and unstable, spurned even by his own kind.
To McKell, humans should be nothing more than sustenance. Yet the petite, golden-skinned Ava is a fascinating contradiction—vicious yet witty, strong yet vulnerable, lethal but fiercely loyal. Against his better judgment, McKell craves that loyalty, and much more. When the chase leads to seduction, McKell and Ava will race to discover the truth about his past. But the answers will come at a price, even for a woman who thought she had nothing left to lose. . . .
Author info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
GENA SHOWALTER is the New York Times and national bestselling author of more than twenty novels in a wide range of genres, including her acclaimed Alien Huntress series for Pocket Books: Awaken Me Darkly, Enslave Me Sweetly, Savor Me Slowly, Seduce the Darkness, and Ecstasy in Darkness. Her fiction has appeared in Cosmopolitan and Seventeen and has been nominated for a prestigious RITA, as well as the National Reader's Choice Award. She is universally acknowledged to be "made of awesome." Visit her website at http://www.genashowalter.com/
My Review:
This novel was a very well written Paranormal romance. I thought this book was a little long but it actually wasnt that bad. This book is a good read if your someone who likes (or loves) romance novels but even people who dont like them may enjoy this book as well! I would recomend this book.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Dracula in love
Dracula in Love by Karen Essex
This book was good. It was well written but to me it felt like it had a slow start at getting into the action but other than that I enjoyed the book. I thought it was an interesting twist on the Dracula story and it was told from an interesting point of view. I love Dracula stories so I think this is why I liked this story. I would highly recomend it!
I would like to thank Judy at Doubleday for allowing me to read and review this novel!
This book was good. It was well written but to me it felt like it had a slow start at getting into the action but other than that I enjoyed the book. I thought it was an interesting twist on the Dracula story and it was told from an interesting point of view. I love Dracula stories so I think this is why I liked this story. I would highly recomend it!
I would like to thank Judy at Doubleday for allowing me to read and review this novel!
Claude & Camille: A Novel of Monet
Claude & Camille: A Novel of Moet by Stephanie Cowell
This book was very good! It was well written and very historicaly accurate. I mean there were a few things that were fictionalized but everything else was pretty accurate. This book was very interesting because there are not many books out there about Camille so it was a different read for me. I really enjoyed this novel and I would highly recomend it!
I would like to thank Crown Publishing Read it forward program for giving me the chance to read this novel!
This book was very good! It was well written and very historicaly accurate. I mean there were a few things that were fictionalized but everything else was pretty accurate. This book was very interesting because there are not many books out there about Camille so it was a different read for me. I really enjoyed this novel and I would highly recomend it!
I would like to thank Crown Publishing Read it forward program for giving me the chance to read this novel!
Backstage Pass
Backstage Pass by Olivia Cunning
(Pub month Oct 2010)
This is the first book in the Sinners on tour series and this is also this author first book and I wish my review could be more positive but its not. The only thing I liked about this book was the writing style which was ok but I didnt like this book very much. I just couldnt get into the book. It may be for some but it wasnt for me. I wouldnt recomend this book.
I would like to thank the people at sourcebooks for giving me a chance to read this novel!
(Pub month Oct 2010)
This is the first book in the Sinners on tour series and this is also this author first book and I wish my review could be more positive but its not. The only thing I liked about this book was the writing style which was ok but I didnt like this book very much. I just couldnt get into the book. It may be for some but it wasnt for me. I wouldnt recomend this book.
I would like to thank the people at sourcebooks for giving me a chance to read this novel!
Blood Trinity
Today Im participating in a blog tour for the book Blood Trinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon and Dianna Love.
Book Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Supernatural warriors bound by an extraordinary code of honor face an ultimate test of loyalty in the exciting new paranormal thriller from New York Times bestselling authors Sherrilyn Kenyon and Dianna Love.
Atlanta has become the battlefield between human and demon. All her life, Evalle Kincaid has walked the line between the two. Her origins unknown, she's on a quest to learn more about her past . . . and her future.
When a demon claims a young woman in a terrifying attack and there's no one else to blame, Evalle comes under suspicion. Now she's on a deadly quest for her own survival. Through the sordid underground of an alternate Atlanta where nothing is as it seems to the front lines of the city, where her former allies have joined forces to hunt her, Evalle must prove her innocence or pay the ultimate price.
But saving herself is the least of her problems if she doesn't stop the coming apocalypse. The clock is ticking and Atlanta is about to catch fire. . . .
Authors Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
SHERRILYN KENYON is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of several series, including the Bureau of American Defense novels Born to be BAD, BAD Attitude, Phantom in the Night, Whispered Lies, and Silent Truth—all available from Pocket Books. There are more than twenty million copies of her books in print in over thirty countries. She lives with her family near Nashville, Tennessee.
Visit her website at http://www.sherrilynkenyon.com/.
DIANNA LOVE is the New York Times bestselling coauthor of Phantom in the Night and Whispered Lies. She's a national speaker who started writing while working over a hundred feet in the air creating marketing projects for Fortune 500 companies. When not plotting out her latest romantic thriller, she travels the country on a motorcycle to research new locations. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia, with her wonderful husband and a tank of unruly saltwater fish named after celebrities. Visit http://www.authordiannalove.com/.
My Review:
I thought this book was good it was edgey and modren. The writting was very good and I have very really read a book that was written by 2 authors so that was a new exprience for me. I would recomend this book.
I would also like to thank the authors for sending me a pin and temparary tatoo that goes Along with this book! Thanks. I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Book Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Supernatural warriors bound by an extraordinary code of honor face an ultimate test of loyalty in the exciting new paranormal thriller from New York Times bestselling authors Sherrilyn Kenyon and Dianna Love.
Atlanta has become the battlefield between human and demon. All her life, Evalle Kincaid has walked the line between the two. Her origins unknown, she's on a quest to learn more about her past . . . and her future.
When a demon claims a young woman in a terrifying attack and there's no one else to blame, Evalle comes under suspicion. Now she's on a deadly quest for her own survival. Through the sordid underground of an alternate Atlanta where nothing is as it seems to the front lines of the city, where her former allies have joined forces to hunt her, Evalle must prove her innocence or pay the ultimate price.
But saving herself is the least of her problems if she doesn't stop the coming apocalypse. The clock is ticking and Atlanta is about to catch fire. . . .
Authors Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
SHERRILYN KENYON is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of several series, including the Bureau of American Defense novels Born to be BAD, BAD Attitude, Phantom in the Night, Whispered Lies, and Silent Truth—all available from Pocket Books. There are more than twenty million copies of her books in print in over thirty countries. She lives with her family near Nashville, Tennessee.
Visit her website at http://www.sherrilynkenyon.com/.
DIANNA LOVE is the New York Times bestselling coauthor of Phantom in the Night and Whispered Lies. She's a national speaker who started writing while working over a hundred feet in the air creating marketing projects for Fortune 500 companies. When not plotting out her latest romantic thriller, she travels the country on a motorcycle to research new locations. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia, with her wonderful husband and a tank of unruly saltwater fish named after celebrities. Visit http://www.authordiannalove.com/.
My Review:
I thought this book was good it was edgey and modren. The writting was very good and I have very really read a book that was written by 2 authors so that was a new exprience for me. I would recomend this book.
I would also like to thank the authors for sending me a pin and temparary tatoo that goes Along with this book! Thanks. I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
World of Warcraft: The Shattering Prelude to Cataclysm
Today I am participating in a blog tour for the book Wolrd of Warcfaft: The Shatering Prelude to Cataclysm by Christine Golden.
Book Info:
(form publisher Simon & Schuster)
His eyes were open now, watching the path of the tiny flame. If you continue your path, little spark, you will cause great harm.
I must burn! I must live!
There are places where your glow and heat are welcome. Find them, do not destroy the dwellings or take the lives of my people!
For a second, he seemed to wink out of existence but then blazed back with renewed vigor.
Thrall knew what he had to do. He lifted his hand. Forgive me, Brother Flame. But I must protect my people from the harm you would cause them. I have requested, I have begged, now I warn.
The spark seemed to spasm, and yet he continued on his lethal course.
Thrall, grim-faced, clenched his hand hard.
The spark flared defiantly, then dwindled, finally settling down to nothing more than the faintest of glowing embers. For now, he would no longer do anyone harm.
The threat had ended, but Thrall was reeling. This was not the way of the shaman with the elements. It was a relationship of mutual respect, not of threats and control and, in the end, destruction. Oh, the Spirit of Fire could never be extinguished. It was far greater than anything any shaman, or even group of shaman, could ever attempt to do to him. He was eternal, as all the spirits of the elements were. But this part of him, this elemental manifestation, had been defiant, uncooperative. And he had not been alone. He was part of a disturbing trend of elements that were sullen and rebellious rather than cooperative. And in the end, Thrall had had to completely dominate him. Other shaman were now calling rain to soak the city in case there was another aberrant spark that persisted in its course of devastation.
Thrall stood in the rain, letting it soak him, pour off his massive green shoulders, and drip down his arms. What in the name of the ancestors was happening?
New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Christie Golden has written thirty-five novels and several short stories in the fields of science fiction, fantasy and horror. Among her many projects are over a dozen Star Trek novels and several original fantasy novels. An avid player of World of Warcraft, she has written two manga short stories and several novels in that world (Lord of the Clans, Rise of the Horde, Arthas: Rise of the Lich King, and The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm) with more in the works. She has also written the StarCraft Dark Templar Trilogy, Firstborn, Shadow Hunters, and Twilight.
Forthcoming is Devils' Due, a StarCraft II novel focusing on the unlikely friendship between Jim Raynor and Tychus Findlay. Golden is also currently writing three books in the major nine-book Star Wars series Fate of the Jedi, in collaboration with Aaron Allston and Troy Denning. Her first two books in that series, Omen and Allies, are on shelves now. Golden currently lives in Colorado. She welcomes visitors to her website, www.christiegolden.com.
***
Thrall, wise shaman and the warchief of the Horde, has sensed a disturbing change . . .
Long ago, Azeroth's destructive native elementals raged across the world until the benevolent titans imprisoned them within the Elemental Plane. Despite the titans' intervention, many elementals have ended up back on Azeroth. Over the ages, shaman like Thrall have communed with these spirits and, through patience and dedication, learned to soothe roaring infernos, bring rain to sun-scorched lands, and otherwise temper the elementals' ruinous influence on the world of Azeroth.
Now Thrall has discovered that the elementals no longer heed the shaman's call. The link shared with these spirits has grown thin and frayed, as if Azeroth itself were under great duress. While Thrall seeks answers to what ails the confused elements, he also wrestles with the orcs' precarious future as his people face dwindling supplies and growing hostility with their night elf neighbors.
Meanwhile, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind is considering violent action in response to mounting tensions between the Alliance and the Horde, a hard-line approach that threatens to alienate those closest to him, including his son, Anduin. The conflicted young prince has set out to find his own path, but in doing so, he risks becoming entangled in political instability that is setting the world on edge.
The fate of Azeroth's great races is shrouded in a fog of uncertainty, and the erratic behavior of the elemental spirits, troubling though it is, may only be the first ominous warning sign of the cataclysm to come
Author Info:
(from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Christie Golden has written over thirty novels and several short stories in the fields of science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Golden launched the TSR Ravenloft line in 1991 with her first novel, the highly successful Vampire of the Mists, which introduced elven vampire Jander Sunstar. To the best of her knowledge, she is the creator of the elven vampire archetype in fantasy fiction.
She is the author of several original fantasy novels, including On Fire's Wings, In Stone's Clasp, and Under Sea's Shadow (currently available only as an e-book) the first three in her multi-book fantasy series "The Final Dance" from LUNA Books. In Stone's Clasp won the Colorado Author's League Award for Best Genre Novel of 2005, the second of Golden's novels to win the award.
Among Golden's other projects are over a dozen Star Trek novels and the well-received StarCraft Dark Templar trilogy, Firstborn, Shadow Hunters, and Twilight. An avid player of Blizzard's MMORPG World of Warcraft, Golden has written several novels in that world (Arthas, Lord of the Clans, Rise of the Horde) with more in the works, including The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm, due out in August 2010. She has also written two Warcraft manga stories for Tokyopop, "I Got What Yule Need" and "A Warrior Made."
Golden is currently hard at work on three books in the major nine-book Star Wars series "Fate of the Jedi," in collaboration with Aaron Allston and Troy Denning. Her first book in the series, Omen, hit shelves in June of 2009, and her second, Allies, is slated for publication in early summer of 2010.
Golden welcomes visitors to her website, http://www.christiegolden.com/.
My Review:
I was disappointed in this book. I have read other books by this author and I have enjoyed them but this one I just didnt enjoy and couldnt get into. I think this author is a wonderful writer and I would recomend her books but not this one.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Book Info:
(form publisher Simon & Schuster)
His eyes were open now, watching the path of the tiny flame. If you continue your path, little spark, you will cause great harm.
I must burn! I must live!
There are places where your glow and heat are welcome. Find them, do not destroy the dwellings or take the lives of my people!
For a second, he seemed to wink out of existence but then blazed back with renewed vigor.
Thrall knew what he had to do. He lifted his hand. Forgive me, Brother Flame. But I must protect my people from the harm you would cause them. I have requested, I have begged, now I warn.
The spark seemed to spasm, and yet he continued on his lethal course.
Thrall, grim-faced, clenched his hand hard.
The spark flared defiantly, then dwindled, finally settling down to nothing more than the faintest of glowing embers. For now, he would no longer do anyone harm.
The threat had ended, but Thrall was reeling. This was not the way of the shaman with the elements. It was a relationship of mutual respect, not of threats and control and, in the end, destruction. Oh, the Spirit of Fire could never be extinguished. It was far greater than anything any shaman, or even group of shaman, could ever attempt to do to him. He was eternal, as all the spirits of the elements were. But this part of him, this elemental manifestation, had been defiant, uncooperative. And he had not been alone. He was part of a disturbing trend of elements that were sullen and rebellious rather than cooperative. And in the end, Thrall had had to completely dominate him. Other shaman were now calling rain to soak the city in case there was another aberrant spark that persisted in its course of devastation.
Thrall stood in the rain, letting it soak him, pour off his massive green shoulders, and drip down his arms. What in the name of the ancestors was happening?
New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Christie Golden has written thirty-five novels and several short stories in the fields of science fiction, fantasy and horror. Among her many projects are over a dozen Star Trek novels and several original fantasy novels. An avid player of World of Warcraft, she has written two manga short stories and several novels in that world (Lord of the Clans, Rise of the Horde, Arthas: Rise of the Lich King, and The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm) with more in the works. She has also written the StarCraft Dark Templar Trilogy, Firstborn, Shadow Hunters, and Twilight.
Forthcoming is Devils' Due, a StarCraft II novel focusing on the unlikely friendship between Jim Raynor and Tychus Findlay. Golden is also currently writing three books in the major nine-book Star Wars series Fate of the Jedi, in collaboration with Aaron Allston and Troy Denning. Her first two books in that series, Omen and Allies, are on shelves now. Golden currently lives in Colorado. She welcomes visitors to her website, www.christiegolden.com.
***
Thrall, wise shaman and the warchief of the Horde, has sensed a disturbing change . . .
Long ago, Azeroth's destructive native elementals raged across the world until the benevolent titans imprisoned them within the Elemental Plane. Despite the titans' intervention, many elementals have ended up back on Azeroth. Over the ages, shaman like Thrall have communed with these spirits and, through patience and dedication, learned to soothe roaring infernos, bring rain to sun-scorched lands, and otherwise temper the elementals' ruinous influence on the world of Azeroth.
Now Thrall has discovered that the elementals no longer heed the shaman's call. The link shared with these spirits has grown thin and frayed, as if Azeroth itself were under great duress. While Thrall seeks answers to what ails the confused elements, he also wrestles with the orcs' precarious future as his people face dwindling supplies and growing hostility with their night elf neighbors.
Meanwhile, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind is considering violent action in response to mounting tensions between the Alliance and the Horde, a hard-line approach that threatens to alienate those closest to him, including his son, Anduin. The conflicted young prince has set out to find his own path, but in doing so, he risks becoming entangled in political instability that is setting the world on edge.
The fate of Azeroth's great races is shrouded in a fog of uncertainty, and the erratic behavior of the elemental spirits, troubling though it is, may only be the first ominous warning sign of the cataclysm to come
Author Info:
(from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Christie Golden has written over thirty novels and several short stories in the fields of science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Golden launched the TSR Ravenloft line in 1991 with her first novel, the highly successful Vampire of the Mists, which introduced elven vampire Jander Sunstar. To the best of her knowledge, she is the creator of the elven vampire archetype in fantasy fiction.
She is the author of several original fantasy novels, including On Fire's Wings, In Stone's Clasp, and Under Sea's Shadow (currently available only as an e-book) the first three in her multi-book fantasy series "The Final Dance" from LUNA Books. In Stone's Clasp won the Colorado Author's League Award for Best Genre Novel of 2005, the second of Golden's novels to win the award.
Among Golden's other projects are over a dozen Star Trek novels and the well-received StarCraft Dark Templar trilogy, Firstborn, Shadow Hunters, and Twilight. An avid player of Blizzard's MMORPG World of Warcraft, Golden has written several novels in that world (Arthas, Lord of the Clans, Rise of the Horde) with more in the works, including The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm, due out in August 2010. She has also written two Warcraft manga stories for Tokyopop, "I Got What Yule Need" and "A Warrior Made."
Golden is currently hard at work on three books in the major nine-book Star Wars series "Fate of the Jedi," in collaboration with Aaron Allston and Troy Denning. Her first book in the series, Omen, hit shelves in June of 2009, and her second, Allies, is slated for publication in early summer of 2010.
Golden welcomes visitors to her website, http://www.christiegolden.com/.
My Review:
I was disappointed in this book. I have read other books by this author and I have enjoyed them but this one I just didnt enjoy and couldnt get into. I think this author is a wonderful writer and I would recomend her books but not this one.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery Books for letting me read and review this novel!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Aching for Always
Today im doing a blog tour for the book Aching for Always by Gwyn Cready.
Book Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
RITA Award–winning author Gwyn Cready continues the "sexy fun" (BookPage) of her charming time-travel adventures with a high-spirited tale of a modern-day mapmaker and the eighteenth-century English navy captain she can't resist.
Ambitious and feisty Josephine "Joss" O'Malley has spent years fighting to keep her mother's map-making company alive. Just when she finds herself considering taking a risky next step with bad-boy entrepreneur Rogan Reynolds— whose generosity has helped keep the business afloat—Joss meets dark and mysterious Hugh Hawksmoor. Hugh's deft touch and old-world seduction stir Joss's desires like a storm at sea, and she has no clue that he has sailed three hundred years into the future to avenge the death of his brother at the hands of her father. Or that she holds the key to a map that will help him undo the destructive changes her father wrought in the past. When Hugh lures Joss into a treacherous journey through time, there's not a twenty-first-century trick that can save her. But when she applies her own instincts to a course she thought was set, she discovers that the high seas hold some scandalous surprises.
Book Excerpt:
(Written by the author Gwyn Cready from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Once upon a time there was a beautiful mapmaker. She made maps for kings and travelers and landowners. She loved her work because making maps made her dream of the world outside her shop. Many men courted her, but none won her hand, for they loved her for her beauty, not her maps.
—The Tale of the Beautiful Mapmaker
BRAND O'MALLEY MAP COMPANY BOARDROOM,
PITTSBURGH, PRESENT DAY
"What is it men see in maps?" Joss O'Malley asked fondly as she watched her friend's four-year-old son, Peter, staring intently at a framed antique map from his not-quite-steady perch on the top of the credenza.
Diane Daltrey, the former chief financial officer of Brand O'Malley Map Company and Peter's mom, lifted her eyes for a moment from the quarterly cash flow statement over which she was poring. "Key to the past?"
Joss thought of her own fascination. "Hints of the unknown?"
"Does this have a Skull Island?" Peter said enthusiastically, scanning the hand-colored paper. "I want to fight Hook to the death!" He growled and thrust his light saber in the direction of the conference table. Marty, the map tech, who had just unfolded himself from plugging in two laptop projectors, ducked to avoid being skewered.
"Or perhaps something slightly less poetic. Speaking of which"—Di let her fingers come to rest on the calculator—"things aren't looking so good here."
"I know we're a little strapped for cash," Joss said, biting a nail, "but that's not so bad, right?"
"Right. How important is money?"
"I'm heading up to see Rogan. I need a number."
"Another loan?"
"It's not a loan exactly."
"Honey," Di said, "when a man's already agreed to the price for the company and you're going back to ask for more, that's either a loan or insanity. Peter, please take the highlighter out of your mouth. Your little brother was playing with it."
Peter, who had jumped off the credenza, sighed and, with a Day-Glo green pout, handed the marker to his toddler brother, coincidentally named Todd.
Joss frowned. "Should we—"
"Not poisonous," Diane said without looking up. "Well, not too poisonous."
Marty extracted the projector's power cord from the grip of the third Daltrey brother, a baby in a portable car seat at Diane's feet.
"Do you know if this next one's a boy, too?" Joss gestured to the Epcot Center–sized ball under Diane's sweater.
"I told my obstetrician I'd kill him if it was."
"I wasn't great at college biology, but I'm pretty sure he's not the one who decides."
Peter tugged Marty's pant leg. "Did you know if you suck enough highlighter your pee turns green?"
Marty pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Actually, I didn't know that."
"It's true. Green works best."
Di flipped the page of the report and, without looking up from the paper, deftly dropped a Tory Burch–clad foot on the leash attached to the two-year-old's ankle, bringing him to a dead halt just out of reach of the stapler on the table.
Joss, who had long ago decided running a barely surviving company was nothing compared to raising three boys under the age of five, said, "I really appreciate you coming in."
"Oh, please. If I didn't get out of the house sometimes, I'd go nuts."
"I can see where trips like this would be pretty relaxing."
"I'm almost ready," Marty said to Joss.
"Go ahead. Di can work the numbers while I take a look."
He flipped a switch and one of the projectors filled the far wall with a huge gray map of straight and curving streets, some blue, some yellow, some white, each with its own name printed in tiny Helvetica caps.
"Cool." Peter let the saber fall to his side.
"City?" Joss asked Marty. If she'd had more time, she'd be able to figure it out on her own. One of the benefits of owning one of the world's largest printed map companies was that every city felt like home.
"Philly."
"Ah. City of Brotherly Love."
Marty grimaced. "Yeah, well, unless brotherly love includes free use of intellectual property, we got a problem. Here's the map from our favorite competitor, Duncan Limited."
Marty clicked the On button on the adjoining projector. A second map, light blue instead of gray, and with a Garamond typeface, was projected directly over the first. It, too, was a map of Philly, and when he adjusted the width, height and area of the display, the streets lined up exactly with the first. Not a problem in itself, Joss thought. Street maps, after all, were supposed to give you a nearly accurate representation of the area in question, and even a competitor like Duncan Limited could be counted on to represent the area correctly. The problem occurred when a competitor didn't bother to do the survey work to identify the streets themselves, and there was one sure way to find that out.
Joss typed a few commands into her laptop. "I just checked our database. We have three trap streets in Philly."
"Yep," Monty said. "Cranberry Lane, Hastings Drive and Compass Rose Alley."
Compass Rose Alley. Joss smiled. That was so her mother. "And?"
"And"—he walked to the wall and touched different places on the Duncan Limited map—"we have Cranberry Lane, Hastings Drive and Compass Rose Alley."
They were called trap streets for a reason, Joss thought. You couldn't find them anywhere in Philly—not the real Philly, at least. They existed only on maps produced by Brand O'Malley, and they were put there to catch the plagiarist mapmakers of the world, who found it easier to copy someone else's maps than survey their own.
"Call our attorneys," Joss said.
Di held up a hand. "You can't afford an attorney—unless it's a pro bono one."
Joss sucked her lip and gave her friend a beseeching look.
Di rolled her eyes. "I'll talk to David." David, her husband, was a lawyer.
Rogan's admin stuck her head in the door. "Mr. Reynolds will be ready for you exactly at five."
If only I'm ready for him, Joss thought. She gave Di a look.
"I'm close. I'll have it by the time we're up there."
Joss grabbed Luke, the baby, and Todd-ler. Di tucked the report under her arm and kept her fingers running furiously over the calculator. Peter trailed behind, protecting the rear from pirates and Sith lords. If Joss couldn't make payroll, she'd have to lay people off. Di had been the first to go six months earlier, raising her hand to save the jobs of others. Now Joss paid for Di's time by the hour and used her only when she could afford to. Joss remembered a time when the world had seemed effortless to her. She'd lift a finger and a maid or driver or chef would rush to do her bidding. Now she worked ten-hour days, six-day weeks, to keep the company afloat. Had the world really been that easy, or was that just the sentimental nostalgia that all people had about their childhoods?
They reached the elevator, and Joss put down the car seat so she could lift Peter high enough to press the Up button.
She prayed Rogan would be amenable. He'd been looking only to buy her father's company, Brand Industries, and the name of her mother's—Brand O'Malley, the most famous name in maps—for use on his GPS devices, but he was a great guy and he'd understood Joss's desire to keep her twenty-three-person business, her only inheritance from her mother, running and under her control.
What Rogan paid for Brand Industries, though more than he should have, would still barely cover the debt her father had run up before his death three months earlier, so Joss would see no money from that, nor from his personal fortune, which he had thrown into his failing company's coffers in an attempt to save face among his peers in the business world. And her mother's much smaller company, which had been more practically run while her mother was alive but neglected under her father's subsequent guardianship, had spent the last few years teetering on the edge of insolvency.
Joss felt like her life since her mother's death, not long after Joss's eighth birthday, had been laid out strictly to ensure she'd be able to assume control of the mapmaking company when she was old enough. Despite being a lover of literature, she'd applied to and gotten into a math and science high school so she could study geography. In college, she'd pursued a dual major of business and geography while she worked full-time at Brand O'Malley, learning the ropes from the very able managers there. At twenty, even before she'd graduated, she'd accepted in practice what she'd already had in theory—the top executive role—and for the past three years, as the sales of paper maps dropped like a lead printing press, she'd been doing everything she could to keep these fine, hardworking people—and herself—employed.
The memories of yachts, stretch limos and happy times over salmon en croÛte at midnight were long gone, having followed her mother, the family money and, finally, her father out of her life. And while losing the wealth had taught the very important lesson that she didn't need money to be happy, she wouldn't have minded, just once, being able to make payroll without getting on her hands and knees and praying to the lords of cash flow that the money would arrive.
"So, how are you going to effect this miraculous largesse?" Di asked.
"The loan, you mean?"
"Yes."
"Rogan owes me a favor."
"A fifty-thousand-dollar favor?"
"The number's fifty thousand?" Joss said, distressed.
"The number's at least fifty thousand. I'm still checking."
"Crap."
"Crap," Todd-ler repeated happily.
"Oops." Joss shot Di an apologetic look.
Di wiped something that looked like chocolate pudding off her arm. "Least of my worries."
The elevator arrived. Joss swung the car seat inside, leaned down again to grab Peter and said hello to one of the Brand Industries salesmen who was inside.
"Forty-eight," she said, and pointed out the correct button. Peter poked it and leapt to the floor, pointing the saber with a sneer at his image in the elevator's mirrored walls. His mother, lost in her calculations, pressed a sheet of paper against the wall and made a notation. Todd-ler started to chew a piece of Joss's hair.
"Say," the salesman said to Joss, "I understand congratulations are in order. Next week, is it?"
Joss gazed down at the diamond sparking languidly on her finger, so large as to almost be worthy of a pirate's treasure chest. "Yep. No point in waiting. When it's right, it's right."
"Yes, and you'll need to hurry with your office," Di said to the man. "The caterer needs the space to set up the tables."
The salesman's brows shot up, and Joss waved away his worry. "I'm not having my reception in your office. Diane thinks that just because I'm getting married in the Founders Room upstairs, it's an all-business wedding."
"It's the conference room for the Sales Department," Di said curtly.
"It's a gorgeous space."
"Now, should we all wear business suits," Di asked, "or is that just you?"
Joss sighed. "It's not a business suit. It's a skirt."
Di gave her a look.
"Okay, a business skirt—but it's Chanel!"
Joss knew Di didn't understand why she was, as Di liked to say, running her wedding "like the fourth-quarter employee recognition event." Joss couldn't explain. Everything in her life since she could remember had been done for expediency. It just didn't feel right to have anything except a small ceremony, in her favorite space at her dad's company—well, her dad's former company—followed by a quiet dinner in the dining room of the William Penn Hotel, where her mother had taken her for tea each Christmas when she was a little girl.
Di rolled her eyes. "I'm certain Coco didn't have it in mind for a bride."
Joss exhaled. It was going to be a long week. Tomorrow was her bachelorette party. Thursday was the party her soon-to-be mother-in-law was throwing for the large number of friends and relatives who couldn't be accommodated at the ceremony. Friday Joss left for the Academic Supply Show in Las Vegas. She'd fly back on Monday, just in time for Tuesday's wedding. Other than the ceremony itself, her mother-in-law was taking care of everything, which suited Joss perfectly. All the better for Joss to focus on the far more concerning issue of making payroll.
The elevator stopped at 36 and the salesman got off. Peter punctuated the exit with a saber flourish. "Will I get to see your wedding?" he asked. "Mommy says I can only come if I dress like the mail delivery guy."
"Your mommy's hilarious. And yes, you know I couldn't get married without you, pal. I'm counting on you to give me away."
She returned her thoughts to the problem at hand. Fifty big ones. At least fifty big ones.
"I think I'm going to have to resort to something more than a favor for fifty thousand." Joss gazed at herself in the mirror and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. "I'm going to have to try a little more—"
She found herself gazing into Peter's curious eyes.
"A little more what, Aunt Joss?"
Di gave her an interested sidelong glance; Todd-ler thrust his fingers into her bra.
"A little more hard work, Peter. That's what being a grown-up is all about." She rewarded Di with a tiny tongue stick-out and loosened Todd-ler's grip on the tender flesh.
"Exactly how hard is this work going to be?" Di asked.
"Jeez Louise, I'm hardly going to—" Peter's gaze shot right to Joss's face. What is it with kids these days? "I'm not going to work so hard I'll regret it."
"Good to hear," Di said. "Girls who work that hard can get a reputation."
Peter's gaze narrowed and slid between his mother and Joss.
"But let's face it," Joss said, "I'll do whatever it takes." She thought of Marty and his diabetes and the security guard with her kid on dialysis.
The jesting smile left Di's face, replaced with a brow raise. "Really?"
"Really. It's not like I haven't gotten hints he'd be amenable."
"I know, but . . . really?"
"It seems a small price, if you know what I mean."
"You're not going to . . ." Di gave her a look to fill in the missing word.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, no. I'm going to need far less artillery than that."
The door opened on 48, and they trooped out. Part of the deal for the Brand O'Malley name was these offices would go to Rogan's company when the papers were signed next month. He'd already taken over the chairman's office. Some of the people there, though, still worked for her.
"Howdy, Joss."
"Afternoon," she said to LaWren, the security guard. "How's Darryl?"
"Doin' good," she said. "We've got him on home dialysis now."
"Oh, that's great. Did he like the DVD I sent?"
"Prisoner of Azkaban? Oh yeah."
"Loved the Marauder's Map. We got to get ourselves into that business, eh?"
LaWren laughed.
Rogan's admin, Pat, a prim, thin-lipped woman who had been with Brand Industries since the dawn of time, had always reminded Joss of Miss Gulch, the mean neighbor who took Toto from Dorothy. Pat, however, scared Joss even more than her cinematic counterpart.
Pat frowned at the bedraggled group and saved a particularly sharp look for Joss. "It's after five."
"I can't help but notice Rogan is not actually in his office, so I'm thinking my lateness isn't going to be a problem."
"He'll be here soon. The video conference with the Sydney office went long. But it's better if you're here when he arrives."
Of course it is.
Joss gestured the group inside.
"Will the children—"
"Yes. Part of the analytics team."
Di sunk into the long couch, still working on the numbers, and Joss gazed out at the gorgeous view that used to be hers, especially the regally old-fashioned Gulf Tower with its brightly lit stepped crown modeled on the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus. Even more kitschy was the quaint weather beacon on top, which glowed red for clear weather and blue for precipitation, and blinked to signal a coming change. Winter in Pittsburgh was not always fun, but when one could view it against a twilight sky with the Gulf Tower beacon shining red, it all seemed worthwhile.
Peter jumped immediately into Rogan's chair and began to play with the phone.
"Er, maybe not, pal." Joss put Todd and the baby onto the thick Aubusson rug and straightened.
Peter collapsed with a disheartened sigh into the cushioned leather.
"Say, what's up with the Band-Aid?" Joss asked, trying to cheer him. She'd just noticed the Spider-Man bandage wrapped around his finger.
"Confection, Mom says."
Joss looked at Di.
"Infection," Di corrected. "You're wearing a Band-Aid because you cut your finger playing Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles in the koi pond, and it swelled up big and red. Remember?"
"Oh yeah." He smiled a dreamy, dimpled smile. "Really cool pus."
Joss heard Rogan's voice in the corridor. "Oops."
Di nodded. "I've got it. One more second."
Rogan strode in, an impossibly handsome man with soft blond waves and piercing blue eyes that cut to the bones of any business deal. He grinned when he saw the extent of his welcoming party.
"Hey," he said to Peter, and nodded at Di. "Good to see you. Are we—"
"Nope." Di struggled to her feet. "We're on our way out." She handed the cash flow statement to Joss, swept Todd and the car seat into her arms and signaled to Peter to follow. Then she gave Joss a quick peck. "I'll see you tomorrow, eh?"
"But, the number . . ."
Di gazed pointedly at the report in Joss's hand, where Joss spotted a hastily scribbled note.
"C'mon, troops," Di said. "Let's pull out." She made a rallying motion with her hand and gave Joss a small wave. "Don't work too hard."
© 2010 Gwyn Cready
Author Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Gwyn Cready is the RITA Award winning author of sexy, funny, romantic romance novels. Publishers Weekly called Tumbling Through Time, her debut, "a joy," and Seducing Mr. Darcy was named Best Paranormal Romance Novel of 2009. She lives in Pittsburgh with her family.
http://www.cready.com/
My Review:
I thought this book was good. It was a creative idea and a different read for me. I think the book was well written and I would recomend it.
I would like to thank the people at Galley for letting me read and review this book!
Book Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
RITA Award–winning author Gwyn Cready continues the "sexy fun" (BookPage) of her charming time-travel adventures with a high-spirited tale of a modern-day mapmaker and the eighteenth-century English navy captain she can't resist.
Ambitious and feisty Josephine "Joss" O'Malley has spent years fighting to keep her mother's map-making company alive. Just when she finds herself considering taking a risky next step with bad-boy entrepreneur Rogan Reynolds— whose generosity has helped keep the business afloat—Joss meets dark and mysterious Hugh Hawksmoor. Hugh's deft touch and old-world seduction stir Joss's desires like a storm at sea, and she has no clue that he has sailed three hundred years into the future to avenge the death of his brother at the hands of her father. Or that she holds the key to a map that will help him undo the destructive changes her father wrought in the past. When Hugh lures Joss into a treacherous journey through time, there's not a twenty-first-century trick that can save her. But when she applies her own instincts to a course she thought was set, she discovers that the high seas hold some scandalous surprises.
Book Excerpt:
(Written by the author Gwyn Cready from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Once upon a time there was a beautiful mapmaker. She made maps for kings and travelers and landowners. She loved her work because making maps made her dream of the world outside her shop. Many men courted her, but none won her hand, for they loved her for her beauty, not her maps.
—The Tale of the Beautiful Mapmaker
BRAND O'MALLEY MAP COMPANY BOARDROOM,
PITTSBURGH, PRESENT DAY
"What is it men see in maps?" Joss O'Malley asked fondly as she watched her friend's four-year-old son, Peter, staring intently at a framed antique map from his not-quite-steady perch on the top of the credenza.
Diane Daltrey, the former chief financial officer of Brand O'Malley Map Company and Peter's mom, lifted her eyes for a moment from the quarterly cash flow statement over which she was poring. "Key to the past?"
Joss thought of her own fascination. "Hints of the unknown?"
"Does this have a Skull Island?" Peter said enthusiastically, scanning the hand-colored paper. "I want to fight Hook to the death!" He growled and thrust his light saber in the direction of the conference table. Marty, the map tech, who had just unfolded himself from plugging in two laptop projectors, ducked to avoid being skewered.
"Or perhaps something slightly less poetic. Speaking of which"—Di let her fingers come to rest on the calculator—"things aren't looking so good here."
"I know we're a little strapped for cash," Joss said, biting a nail, "but that's not so bad, right?"
"Right. How important is money?"
"I'm heading up to see Rogan. I need a number."
"Another loan?"
"It's not a loan exactly."
"Honey," Di said, "when a man's already agreed to the price for the company and you're going back to ask for more, that's either a loan or insanity. Peter, please take the highlighter out of your mouth. Your little brother was playing with it."
Peter, who had jumped off the credenza, sighed and, with a Day-Glo green pout, handed the marker to his toddler brother, coincidentally named Todd.
Joss frowned. "Should we—"
"Not poisonous," Diane said without looking up. "Well, not too poisonous."
Marty extracted the projector's power cord from the grip of the third Daltrey brother, a baby in a portable car seat at Diane's feet.
"Do you know if this next one's a boy, too?" Joss gestured to the Epcot Center–sized ball under Diane's sweater.
"I told my obstetrician I'd kill him if it was."
"I wasn't great at college biology, but I'm pretty sure he's not the one who decides."
Peter tugged Marty's pant leg. "Did you know if you suck enough highlighter your pee turns green?"
Marty pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Actually, I didn't know that."
"It's true. Green works best."
Di flipped the page of the report and, without looking up from the paper, deftly dropped a Tory Burch–clad foot on the leash attached to the two-year-old's ankle, bringing him to a dead halt just out of reach of the stapler on the table.
Joss, who had long ago decided running a barely surviving company was nothing compared to raising three boys under the age of five, said, "I really appreciate you coming in."
"Oh, please. If I didn't get out of the house sometimes, I'd go nuts."
"I can see where trips like this would be pretty relaxing."
"I'm almost ready," Marty said to Joss.
"Go ahead. Di can work the numbers while I take a look."
He flipped a switch and one of the projectors filled the far wall with a huge gray map of straight and curving streets, some blue, some yellow, some white, each with its own name printed in tiny Helvetica caps.
"Cool." Peter let the saber fall to his side.
"City?" Joss asked Marty. If she'd had more time, she'd be able to figure it out on her own. One of the benefits of owning one of the world's largest printed map companies was that every city felt like home.
"Philly."
"Ah. City of Brotherly Love."
Marty grimaced. "Yeah, well, unless brotherly love includes free use of intellectual property, we got a problem. Here's the map from our favorite competitor, Duncan Limited."
Marty clicked the On button on the adjoining projector. A second map, light blue instead of gray, and with a Garamond typeface, was projected directly over the first. It, too, was a map of Philly, and when he adjusted the width, height and area of the display, the streets lined up exactly with the first. Not a problem in itself, Joss thought. Street maps, after all, were supposed to give you a nearly accurate representation of the area in question, and even a competitor like Duncan Limited could be counted on to represent the area correctly. The problem occurred when a competitor didn't bother to do the survey work to identify the streets themselves, and there was one sure way to find that out.
Joss typed a few commands into her laptop. "I just checked our database. We have three trap streets in Philly."
"Yep," Monty said. "Cranberry Lane, Hastings Drive and Compass Rose Alley."
Compass Rose Alley. Joss smiled. That was so her mother. "And?"
"And"—he walked to the wall and touched different places on the Duncan Limited map—"we have Cranberry Lane, Hastings Drive and Compass Rose Alley."
They were called trap streets for a reason, Joss thought. You couldn't find them anywhere in Philly—not the real Philly, at least. They existed only on maps produced by Brand O'Malley, and they were put there to catch the plagiarist mapmakers of the world, who found it easier to copy someone else's maps than survey their own.
"Call our attorneys," Joss said.
Di held up a hand. "You can't afford an attorney—unless it's a pro bono one."
Joss sucked her lip and gave her friend a beseeching look.
Di rolled her eyes. "I'll talk to David." David, her husband, was a lawyer.
Rogan's admin stuck her head in the door. "Mr. Reynolds will be ready for you exactly at five."
If only I'm ready for him, Joss thought. She gave Di a look.
"I'm close. I'll have it by the time we're up there."
Joss grabbed Luke, the baby, and Todd-ler. Di tucked the report under her arm and kept her fingers running furiously over the calculator. Peter trailed behind, protecting the rear from pirates and Sith lords. If Joss couldn't make payroll, she'd have to lay people off. Di had been the first to go six months earlier, raising her hand to save the jobs of others. Now Joss paid for Di's time by the hour and used her only when she could afford to. Joss remembered a time when the world had seemed effortless to her. She'd lift a finger and a maid or driver or chef would rush to do her bidding. Now she worked ten-hour days, six-day weeks, to keep the company afloat. Had the world really been that easy, or was that just the sentimental nostalgia that all people had about their childhoods?
They reached the elevator, and Joss put down the car seat so she could lift Peter high enough to press the Up button.
She prayed Rogan would be amenable. He'd been looking only to buy her father's company, Brand Industries, and the name of her mother's—Brand O'Malley, the most famous name in maps—for use on his GPS devices, but he was a great guy and he'd understood Joss's desire to keep her twenty-three-person business, her only inheritance from her mother, running and under her control.
What Rogan paid for Brand Industries, though more than he should have, would still barely cover the debt her father had run up before his death three months earlier, so Joss would see no money from that, nor from his personal fortune, which he had thrown into his failing company's coffers in an attempt to save face among his peers in the business world. And her mother's much smaller company, which had been more practically run while her mother was alive but neglected under her father's subsequent guardianship, had spent the last few years teetering on the edge of insolvency.
Joss felt like her life since her mother's death, not long after Joss's eighth birthday, had been laid out strictly to ensure she'd be able to assume control of the mapmaking company when she was old enough. Despite being a lover of literature, she'd applied to and gotten into a math and science high school so she could study geography. In college, she'd pursued a dual major of business and geography while she worked full-time at Brand O'Malley, learning the ropes from the very able managers there. At twenty, even before she'd graduated, she'd accepted in practice what she'd already had in theory—the top executive role—and for the past three years, as the sales of paper maps dropped like a lead printing press, she'd been doing everything she could to keep these fine, hardworking people—and herself—employed.
The memories of yachts, stretch limos and happy times over salmon en croÛte at midnight were long gone, having followed her mother, the family money and, finally, her father out of her life. And while losing the wealth had taught the very important lesson that she didn't need money to be happy, she wouldn't have minded, just once, being able to make payroll without getting on her hands and knees and praying to the lords of cash flow that the money would arrive.
"So, how are you going to effect this miraculous largesse?" Di asked.
"The loan, you mean?"
"Yes."
"Rogan owes me a favor."
"A fifty-thousand-dollar favor?"
"The number's fifty thousand?" Joss said, distressed.
"The number's at least fifty thousand. I'm still checking."
"Crap."
"Crap," Todd-ler repeated happily.
"Oops." Joss shot Di an apologetic look.
Di wiped something that looked like chocolate pudding off her arm. "Least of my worries."
The elevator arrived. Joss swung the car seat inside, leaned down again to grab Peter and said hello to one of the Brand Industries salesmen who was inside.
"Forty-eight," she said, and pointed out the correct button. Peter poked it and leapt to the floor, pointing the saber with a sneer at his image in the elevator's mirrored walls. His mother, lost in her calculations, pressed a sheet of paper against the wall and made a notation. Todd-ler started to chew a piece of Joss's hair.
"Say," the salesman said to Joss, "I understand congratulations are in order. Next week, is it?"
Joss gazed down at the diamond sparking languidly on her finger, so large as to almost be worthy of a pirate's treasure chest. "Yep. No point in waiting. When it's right, it's right."
"Yes, and you'll need to hurry with your office," Di said to the man. "The caterer needs the space to set up the tables."
The salesman's brows shot up, and Joss waved away his worry. "I'm not having my reception in your office. Diane thinks that just because I'm getting married in the Founders Room upstairs, it's an all-business wedding."
"It's the conference room for the Sales Department," Di said curtly.
"It's a gorgeous space."
"Now, should we all wear business suits," Di asked, "or is that just you?"
Joss sighed. "It's not a business suit. It's a skirt."
Di gave her a look.
"Okay, a business skirt—but it's Chanel!"
Joss knew Di didn't understand why she was, as Di liked to say, running her wedding "like the fourth-quarter employee recognition event." Joss couldn't explain. Everything in her life since she could remember had been done for expediency. It just didn't feel right to have anything except a small ceremony, in her favorite space at her dad's company—well, her dad's former company—followed by a quiet dinner in the dining room of the William Penn Hotel, where her mother had taken her for tea each Christmas when she was a little girl.
Di rolled her eyes. "I'm certain Coco didn't have it in mind for a bride."
Joss exhaled. It was going to be a long week. Tomorrow was her bachelorette party. Thursday was the party her soon-to-be mother-in-law was throwing for the large number of friends and relatives who couldn't be accommodated at the ceremony. Friday Joss left for the Academic Supply Show in Las Vegas. She'd fly back on Monday, just in time for Tuesday's wedding. Other than the ceremony itself, her mother-in-law was taking care of everything, which suited Joss perfectly. All the better for Joss to focus on the far more concerning issue of making payroll.
The elevator stopped at 36 and the salesman got off. Peter punctuated the exit with a saber flourish. "Will I get to see your wedding?" he asked. "Mommy says I can only come if I dress like the mail delivery guy."
"Your mommy's hilarious. And yes, you know I couldn't get married without you, pal. I'm counting on you to give me away."
She returned her thoughts to the problem at hand. Fifty big ones. At least fifty big ones.
"I think I'm going to have to resort to something more than a favor for fifty thousand." Joss gazed at herself in the mirror and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. "I'm going to have to try a little more—"
She found herself gazing into Peter's curious eyes.
"A little more what, Aunt Joss?"
Di gave her an interested sidelong glance; Todd-ler thrust his fingers into her bra.
"A little more hard work, Peter. That's what being a grown-up is all about." She rewarded Di with a tiny tongue stick-out and loosened Todd-ler's grip on the tender flesh.
"Exactly how hard is this work going to be?" Di asked.
"Jeez Louise, I'm hardly going to—" Peter's gaze shot right to Joss's face. What is it with kids these days? "I'm not going to work so hard I'll regret it."
"Good to hear," Di said. "Girls who work that hard can get a reputation."
Peter's gaze narrowed and slid between his mother and Joss.
"But let's face it," Joss said, "I'll do whatever it takes." She thought of Marty and his diabetes and the security guard with her kid on dialysis.
The jesting smile left Di's face, replaced with a brow raise. "Really?"
"Really. It's not like I haven't gotten hints he'd be amenable."
"I know, but . . . really?"
"It seems a small price, if you know what I mean."
"You're not going to . . ." Di gave her a look to fill in the missing word.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, no. I'm going to need far less artillery than that."
The door opened on 48, and they trooped out. Part of the deal for the Brand O'Malley name was these offices would go to Rogan's company when the papers were signed next month. He'd already taken over the chairman's office. Some of the people there, though, still worked for her.
"Howdy, Joss."
"Afternoon," she said to LaWren, the security guard. "How's Darryl?"
"Doin' good," she said. "We've got him on home dialysis now."
"Oh, that's great. Did he like the DVD I sent?"
"Prisoner of Azkaban? Oh yeah."
"Loved the Marauder's Map. We got to get ourselves into that business, eh?"
LaWren laughed.
Rogan's admin, Pat, a prim, thin-lipped woman who had been with Brand Industries since the dawn of time, had always reminded Joss of Miss Gulch, the mean neighbor who took Toto from Dorothy. Pat, however, scared Joss even more than her cinematic counterpart.
Pat frowned at the bedraggled group and saved a particularly sharp look for Joss. "It's after five."
"I can't help but notice Rogan is not actually in his office, so I'm thinking my lateness isn't going to be a problem."
"He'll be here soon. The video conference with the Sydney office went long. But it's better if you're here when he arrives."
Of course it is.
Joss gestured the group inside.
"Will the children—"
"Yes. Part of the analytics team."
Di sunk into the long couch, still working on the numbers, and Joss gazed out at the gorgeous view that used to be hers, especially the regally old-fashioned Gulf Tower with its brightly lit stepped crown modeled on the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus. Even more kitschy was the quaint weather beacon on top, which glowed red for clear weather and blue for precipitation, and blinked to signal a coming change. Winter in Pittsburgh was not always fun, but when one could view it against a twilight sky with the Gulf Tower beacon shining red, it all seemed worthwhile.
Peter jumped immediately into Rogan's chair and began to play with the phone.
"Er, maybe not, pal." Joss put Todd and the baby onto the thick Aubusson rug and straightened.
Peter collapsed with a disheartened sigh into the cushioned leather.
"Say, what's up with the Band-Aid?" Joss asked, trying to cheer him. She'd just noticed the Spider-Man bandage wrapped around his finger.
"Confection, Mom says."
Joss looked at Di.
"Infection," Di corrected. "You're wearing a Band-Aid because you cut your finger playing Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles in the koi pond, and it swelled up big and red. Remember?"
"Oh yeah." He smiled a dreamy, dimpled smile. "Really cool pus."
Joss heard Rogan's voice in the corridor. "Oops."
Di nodded. "I've got it. One more second."
Rogan strode in, an impossibly handsome man with soft blond waves and piercing blue eyes that cut to the bones of any business deal. He grinned when he saw the extent of his welcoming party.
"Hey," he said to Peter, and nodded at Di. "Good to see you. Are we—"
"Nope." Di struggled to her feet. "We're on our way out." She handed the cash flow statement to Joss, swept Todd and the car seat into her arms and signaled to Peter to follow. Then she gave Joss a quick peck. "I'll see you tomorrow, eh?"
"But, the number . . ."
Di gazed pointedly at the report in Joss's hand, where Joss spotted a hastily scribbled note.
"C'mon, troops," Di said. "Let's pull out." She made a rallying motion with her hand and gave Joss a small wave. "Don't work too hard."
© 2010 Gwyn Cready
Author Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Gwyn Cready is the RITA Award winning author of sexy, funny, romantic romance novels. Publishers Weekly called Tumbling Through Time, her debut, "a joy," and Seducing Mr. Darcy was named Best Paranormal Romance Novel of 2009. She lives in Pittsburgh with her family.
http://www.cready.com/
My Review:
I thought this book was good. It was a creative idea and a different read for me. I think the book was well written and I would recomend it.
I would like to thank the people at Galley for letting me read and review this book!
Venom
Today im participating in a blog tour for the book Venom by Jennifer Estep.
Book Info:
(from publisher Simon & Schuster)
What kind of assassin works pro bono?
It's hard to be a badass assassin when a giant is beating the crap out of you. Luckily, I never let pride get in the way of my work. My current mission is personal: annihilate Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental who murdered my family. Which means protecting my identity, even if I have to conceal my powerful Stone and Ice magic when I need it most. To the public, I'm Gin Blanco, owner of Ashland's best barbecue joint. To my friends, I'm the Spider, retired assassin. I still do favors on the side. Like ridding a vampire friend of her oversized stalker—Mab's right-hand goon who almost got me dead with his massive fists. At least irresistible Owen Grayson is on my side. The man knows too much about me, but I'll take my chances. Then there's Detective Bria Coolidge, one of Ashland's finest. Until recently, I thought my baby sister was dead. She probably thinks the same about me. Little does she know, I'm a cold-blooded killer . . . who is about to save her life.
Book excerpt:
(Written by Jennifer Estep and from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Chapter 1
1
The bastards never even would have gotten close to me if I hadn't had the flu.
Coughing, sneezing, aching, wheezing. That was me. Gin Blanco. Restaurant owner. Stone and Ice elemental. Former assassin. And all-around badass. Laid low by a microbe.
It had started as a small, ominous tickle in my throat three days ago. And now, well, it wasn't pretty. Watery eyes. Pale face. And a nose so red and bright even Rudolph would have been jealous. Ugh.
The only reason I'd even crawled out of bed this evening was to come down to Ashland Community College and take the final for the classic literature class I was auditing. I'd finished my essay on symbolism in The Odyssey ten minutes ago. Now I plodded across one of the grassy campus quads and feverishly dreamed of sinking back into my bed and not getting out of it for a week.
Just after seven on a cold, clear December night. This was the last day of finals for the semester, and the campus was largely deserted. Only a few lights burned in the windows of the kudzu-covered brick buildings that rose above my head. The stones whispered of formulas, theories, and knowledge. An old, sonorous, slightly pretentious sound that was decidedly at odds with the sinister shadows that blackened most of the quad. No one else was within sight. Which is probably why they decided to jump me here. Well, that and the fact that kidnapping me would be such a bother.
One second I had my face buried in a tissue blowing my sore, drippy nose for the hundredth time today. The next, I looked up to find myself surrounded by three giants.
Oh, fuck.
I stopped, and they immediately closed ranks, forming a loose triangle of trouble around me. The giants were all around seven feet tall, with oversize, buglike eyes and fists almost as big as my head. One of them grinned at me and cracked his knuckles. Someone was anxious to get down to the business of beating me.
My gray eyes flicked to the leader of the group, who had taken up a position in front of me—Elliot Slater. Slater was the tallest of the three giants, his enormous figure making even his flunkies seem small in comparison. He was almost as wide as he was tall, with a solid, muscled frame. Granite would be easier to break than his ribs. Slater's complexion was pale, bordering on albino, and almost seemed to glow in the faint light. His hazel eyes provided a bit of color in his chalky skin, although his thin, tousled thatch of blond hair did little to cover his large skull. A diamond in his pinkie ring sparkled like a star in the dark night.
Up until my retirement a few months ago, I'd moonlighted as an assassin known as the Spider. Over the years, I'd had plenty of dealings in the shady side of life, so I knew Slater by sight and reputation. On paper, Elliot Slater was a highly respected security consultant with his own platoon of giant bodyguards. In reality, Slater was the number-one enforcer for Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental who ran the Southern metropolis of Ashland like it was her own personal fiefdom. Slater stepped in and either cut off, took care of, or permanently disposed of any pesky problems Mab didn't feel like dealing with herself.
And tonight it looked like that problem was me.
Not surprising. A couple of weeks ago, I'd stiffed someone during a party at Mab Monroe's mansion. Needless to say, the Fire elemental hadn't been too thrilled about one of her guests being murdered in her own home when she'd been entertaining a few hundred of her closest business associates. I'd gotten away with it so far, but I knew Mab was doing everything in her power to find the killer. To find me.
I sniffled into my tissue. I wondered if Mab had figured out who I really was. If that was why Slater was here tonight—
Elliot Slater looked over his broad shoulder. "Is this her?"
Slater slid to one side so another man, a much shorter human, could join the circle of giants surrounding me. Underneath his classic trench coat, the man wore a perfect black suit, and his polished wingtips gleamed like wet ink in the semidarkness. His thick mane of gunmetal gray hair resembled a heavy mantle of silver that had somehow been swirled and sculpted around his head. Too bad hate made his brown eyes look like congealed lumps of blood in his smooth, tight face.
I recognized him too. Jonah McAllister. On paper, McAllister was the city's premiere attorney, a charming, bellicose defense lawyer capable of getting the most vicious killer off scot-free—for the right price. In reality, the slick attorney was another one of Mab Monroe's top goons, just like Elliot Slater was. Jonah McAllister was Mab's personal lawyer, responsible for burying her enemies in legal red tape instead of in the ground like Slater did.
McAllister's son, Jake, was the one I'd murdered at Mab's party. The twentysomething, beefy frat boy had threatened to rape and murder me, among other things. I'd considered killing him pest extermination more than anything else.
Elliot Slater and Jonah McAllister tag-teaming me. This night just kept getting better and better. I sniffled again. Really should have stayed home in bed.
Jonah McAllister regarded me with cold eyes. "Oh, yes. That's her. The lovely Ms. Gin Blanco. The bitch who was giving my boy a hard time."
A hard time? I supposed so, if you thought turning him in to the cops for attempted robbery, breaking a plate full of food in his face, and ultimately stabbing Jake McAllister to death was a hard time. But I noticed that Jonah McAllister didn't say anything about me actually killing his son. Hmm. Looked like this was some sort of fishing expedition. I decided to play along—for now.
"What is this meeting all about?" My voice came out somewhere between a whiny wheeze and a phlegmy rasp. "Are you taking up Jake's bad habit of assaulting innocent people?"
Jonah McAllister's face hardened at my insult. As much as it could, anyway. Despite his sixty-some years, McAllister's features were as smooth as polished marble, thanks to a vigorous regimen of expensive Air elemental facial treatments. "I would hardly consider you innocent, Ms. Blanco. And you're the one who assaulted my precious boy first."
"Your precious boy came into my restaurant, tried to rob me, and almost killed two of my customers with his Fire elemental magic." I spat out the words, along with some phlegm. "All I did was defend myself. What does it matter now anyway? Your boy is dead because of some weird heart condition. At least, that's what was in the newspaper."
Jonah McAllister stared at me, trying to see if I knew more than I was letting on about his son's untimely demise. I used the lull to blow my nose—again. Fucking microbes.
McAllister's mouth twisted with disgust at the sight and sound of my sniffles. Admittedly, it wasn't my most attractive moment. He jerked his head at Elliot Slater, who nodded back.
"Now, Ms. Blanco," Slater drawled. "The reason for this meeting is that Mr. McAllister thought you might have some information about his son's death. Jake did have a bit of a heart condition, but there were also some suspicious circumstances surrounding his passing. Happened a couple of weeks ago."
Suspicious circumstances? I assumed that was polite talk for a sucking stab wound to the chest. But I kept my face blank and ignorant.
"Why would I know anything about Jake's death?" I asked. "The last time I saw the little punk was the day he brought his old man there down to the Pork Pit to threaten me into dropping the charges against him."
Lies, of course. I'd run into Jake McAllister one more time after that—at Mab Monroe's party. Even though I'd been gussied up as a hooker, he'd still recognized me. Since I'd been there to kill someone else, I'd lured sweet little Jakie into a bathroom, stabbed him to death, left his body in the bathtub, and washed the blood off my dress before going back out to the party. Nothing I hadn't done a hundred times before as the assassin the Spider. I certainly hadn't lost any sleep over it.
But right now, it looked like I might lose a whole lot more.
"See, that's the problem. My good friend Jonah doesn't believe you. So he asked me and some of my boys to come down here and see if perhaps we could jog something free from your memory." Slater smiled. His lips drew back, giving me a glimpse of his pale pink gums. The giant's grin reminded me of a jack-o'-lantern's gaping maw—completely hollow. "We're going to pay these sorts of visits to anyone Jake might have had a problem with. And your name was at the top of the list."
Of course it was. I was probably the only person in Ashland who'd ever dared to stand up to Jake McAllister. Now his daddy was going to make me pay for it.
Slater took off his suit jacket, handed it to Jonah McAllister, and started rolling up his shirtsleeves.
I sniffled, blew my nose again, and considered the situation. Four-on-one odds were never terrific, especially since three of the four men were giants. The oversize goons could be hard to bring down, even for a former assassin like me. None of the giants showed any obvious elemental abilities, like letting flames flicker on their clenched fists or forming Ice daggers with their bare hands. But that didn't mean they didn't have magic. Which would make them doubly hard to get rid of.
Still, if I hadn't had the flu, I might have considered killing them—or at least cutting down a couple so I could run away. Although I'd dragged myself out of bed this evening, I'd grabbed my silverstone knives on the way out the door. Five of them. Two tucked up my sleeves. One nestled in the small of my back. Two more in the sides of my boots. Never left home without them.
Of course, being an elemental myself I didn't really need my knives to kill. I could just use my magic to take down the giants. My Stone power was so strong that I could do practically anything I wanted to with the element. Like make bricks fly out of the wall of one of the surrounding buildings and use them to brain the giants in their melon-size heads. Splat, splat, splat. It'd be easier than using an Uzi. Hell, if I really wanted to show off, I could just crumble all four of the buildings that ringed the quad down on top of them.
I was also one of the rare elementals who could control more than one element. Stone and Ice, in my case. Until recently, my Ice magic had been far weaker than my Stone power. But thanks to a series of traumatic events, I could do much more with it now. Like create a wall of Ice knives to fling at the men. I'd sliced through a dwarf's skin doing just that. Giants weren't quite as tough as dwarves, at least when it came to cutting into them. Even if they did have more blood to spare than their shorter compatriots.
But the odds or how to go about killing the giants wasn't what was holding me back. Not really. It was the consequences; what would happen afterward when their boss, Mab Monroe, got involved.
Seventeen years ago, Mab Monroe had used her elemental Fire magic to kill my mother and older sister, a fact I'd only recently learned. She'd also tortured me, using her magic to superheat and burn a spider rune medallion into my palms. I was planning to deal with Mab myself after I figured out a few things, like why she'd murdered my family in the first place and where my long-lost baby sister, Bria, was now.
Taking care of Jonah McAllister and the rest of his hired help tonight would definitely tip my hand and draw even more of Mab's attention my way. I didn't want Mab and her minions to realize that I had any elemental magic. To suspect that I was anything more than the simple restaurant owner Jonah McAllister wanted dead for tattling on his son to the cops. At least, not before I killed her for what she'd done to me.
All that left me with only one option tonight—I was going to have to let the giants hurt me, beat me. That was the only way I could keep my cover identity as Gin Blanco safe, along with who I really was, Genevieve Snow.
Fuck. This was going to hurt.
Elliot Slater finished rolling up his sleeves. "Are you sure you don't have anything to tell us, Ms. Blanco?"
I sighed and shook my head. "I told you before. I don't know anything about Jake McAllister's death except what I read in the newspaper."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Slater murmured.
The giant stepped forward and flexed his fingers, ready to get on with things. Time for me to put on a little show. I widened my eyes, as though it had just sunk into my flu-addled brain what Elliot Slater was planning to do to me. I let out a phlegmy scream and turned to run, as though I'd forgotten all about the two giants standing behind me. I ran right into them, of course, and they reached for me. Even though I had no real intention of trying to break free, I still struggled to keep up appearances. Yelling, flailing, kicking out with my legs.
While I fought with the bigger, heavier men, I managed to discreetly slip the two silverstone knives that I had up my sleeves into the pockets of my jacket. I didn't want the giants to feel the weapons when they finally latched onto me. Most innocent women didn't go around wearing five knives on them, and my being so heavily armed would be the final nail in my coffin as far as Jonah McAllister was concerned about my involvement in his son's death.
The two giants laughed at me and my weak, exaggerated blows. After a minute of struggling, they seized my upper arms and turned me around to face Elliot Slater once more.
And that's when the fun really started.
Slater snapped his hand up and slammed his fist into my face. Bastard was quick, I'd give him that. I hadn't braced myself for the blow, and I jerked back in the giants' arms. The force almost tore me out of their grasp. Pain exploded like dynamite in my jaw.
But Slater didn't stop there. He spent the next two minutes beating me. One punch broke my drippy nose. Another cracked two of my ribs. And I didn't even want to think about the internal bleeding or what my face looked like at this point. Thud, thud, thud. I might as well have been a piece of meat the giant was tenderizing for dinner. Every part of me hurt and burned and throbbed and pulsed with pain.
And he laughed the whole time. Low, soft, chuckling laughs that made my skin crawl. Elliot Slater enjoyed hurting people. Really enjoyed it. His hard-on bulged against the zipper on his black pants.
Slater hit me again and stepped back. By this point, I hung limp between the two giants, all pretense of being tough and strong long gone. I just wanted this to be over with.
A hand grabbed my chin and forced my face up. I stared into Slater's hazel eyes. At least, I tried to. White starbursts kept exploding over and over in my field of vision, making it hard to focus. The light show was better than fireworks on the Fourth of July.
"Now," Elliot rumbled. "Do you want to reconsider what you know about Jake McAllister's death? Maybe you have something new to add?"
"I don't know anything about Jake's death," I mumbled through a mouthful of loose teeth. Blood spewed out of my split lips and cascaded down my navy fleece jacket. "I swear." I made my voice as low, weak, and whipped as I could.
Jonah McAllister stepped forward and peered at me. Malicious glee shimmered in his brown gaze. "Keep hitting her. I want the bitch to suffer."
Elliot Slater nodded and stepped back.
The giant spent another two minutes hitting me. More pain, more blood, more cracked ribs. As I coughed up another mouthful of coppery blood, it dawned on me that Slater just might beat me to death, right here in the middle of the campus quad. Jonah McAllister certainly wouldn't have any objections to that. Damn. Looked like I was going to have to go for my knives, blast them with my elemental magic, and blow my cover after all, if I still had the strength to do that—
"Enough."
A low voice floated out from somewhere deeper in the shadows. A soft, breathy sound that reminded me of pieces of silk wisping together. I knew that tone, that sultry cadence, knew exactly whom it belonged to. So did my inner psyche. Enemy, enemy, enemy, a little voice muttered in the back of my head. A strange, primal, elemental urge flooded my body, the desire to use my Stone and Ice magic to lash out and kill whoever and whatever was within striking distance.
Elliot Slater ignored the command and hit me again, adding to the pain that racked my body.
"I said enough." The voice dropped to a low hiss that crackled with power, menace, and the promise of death.
Elliot froze, his hand pulled halfway back to hit me again.
"Let her go. Now."
The two giants who'd had their hands clamped around my upper arms dropped me like I had the plague. I lay on the ground, my blood soaking into the frosty grass. Despite the pain, I managed to roll over onto my side. I also slid one of my silverstone knives out of my jacket pocket and palmed it. The weapon felt cold and comforting against the thick scar embedded in my palm.
Something rustled, and Mab Monroe stepped out of the shadows to my left.
The Fire elemental wore a long wool coat done in a dark forest green. Her red hair gleamed like polished copper, but her eyes were even blacker than the night sky. A bit of gold flashed around her pale throat in between the folds of her expensive coat.
I couldn't see that well, given the stars still exploding in my vision, but I knew what the gold flash was. Mab Monroe never went anywhere without wearing her signature rune necklace. A large, circular ruby surrounded by several dozen wavy rays. From previous sightings, I knew the intricate diamond cutting on the gold would catch the meager light and make it seem as though the rays were actually flickering. Or perhaps my vision was just that screwed up at the moment.
Still, I knew what the rune was. A sunburst. The symbol for fire. Mab Monroe's personal rune, used by her alone.
At the sight, the silverstone scars on my own palms started to itch and burn. Mab wasn't the only one here with a rune. I had one too. A small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. A spider rune. The symbol for patience. The rune had once been a medallion I'd worn on a chain around my neck, until Mab had used her Fire elemental magic to superheat and burn the silverstone metal into my palms like it was a cattle brand. That's how she'd tortured me the night she'd murdered my family. I was looking forward to returning the favor—someday soon.
Enemy, enemy, enemy; the little voice in the back of my head kept up its muttered chorus.
Mab Monroe walked over and stood beside Elliot Slater and Jonah McAllister. She glanced down at me with all the interest she might give a cockroach before she crushed it under the toe of her boot. Her dark eyes swallowed up the available light, the way a black hole might. I lay very, very still and tried to look like I was a mere inch away from death. Not much of a stretch tonight.
"I said enough, Jonah," Mab said. "Or have you forgotten that you and Elliot work for me?"
After a moment, Elliot Slater stepped back and bowed his head in deference. The other two giants did the same. But Jonah McAllister was too angry to heed the hard edge in Mab's breathy tone.
"This bitch made problems for my son, and I think she knows something about his death," McAllister barked. "I want her to pay for that. I want her to die for that."
Mab stared down at me again. "You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jonah. Ignoring the facts. It's most unbecoming."
"And what would those facts be?" McAllister demanded.
"That Ms. Blanco is just a woman, a mere, weak woman with no elemental magic or other notable strength or skills. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have used everything at her disposal to keep from being so viciously beaten tonight. She's not the person you're looking for, Jonah. More importantly, she's not the woman I'm looking for."
McAllister's brown eyes glittered. "You and your obsession with that blond whore. Why can't you accept the fact that she's dead? Buried somewhere in that coal mine, just like Tobias Dawson and his two men were?"
Mab's eyes grew even blacker. She reached for her Fire elemental magic, holding the power close to her like she might a lover. As an elemental myself, I could feel her magic, especially since she was consciously embracing it. Just the way Mab might have been able to sense my Stone and Ice magic, if I'd been stupid enough to actually reach for any of it.
Of course, I would have felt Mab's magic anyway, since she was one of the elementals who constantly gave off waves of power. The Fire elemental literally leaked magic, the way water would drip from a faucet. Unlike me. As long as I didn't draw upon my own elemental strength, didn't use it in any offensive way, others couldn't sense my power. A trait that had saved me more than once over the years.
Mab's magic pricked my skin like hot, invisible needles, adding to my misery, but I stayed still, giving no indication I could sense it—or that I knew what they were talking about.
"I doubt that hooker was a real hooker, and they never found her body in the rubble of the collapsed mine," Mab replied in a cold voice. "Until I see her body, she's not dead. I'm going to find her, Jonah, and then we can both have our revenge. She killed Dawson, and she's the one who killed your son. Not Ms. Blanco."
They were talking about the night of Mab's party, when I'd dressed up as a hooker to get close to Tobias Dawson, a greedy mine owner who was threatening some innocent people. Dawson was the one I was supposed to kill that night, but Jake McAllister had spotted me before I'd had a chance to do the hit. Mab had caught me in the bathroom a few minutes after I'd stabbed Jake to death. Evidently, the Fire elemental had put two and two together and realized that I'd stiffed Jake, then done the same to Tobias Dawson later on in his own mine. Not good.
"I agreed to this little test with the understanding that Ms. Blanco would live through it, should she prove herself to be innocent of your son's murder," Mab continued. "She's done so, at least to my satisfaction. Nobody would willingly let herself be beaten the way she has."
So Mab didn't understand the concept of self-sacrifice. Not surprising. I might have laughed, if it wouldn't have hurt so much. Still, I was doubly glad that I'd let Elliot Slater hit me. Otherwise, I would have been dead by now, ambushed from the sidelines by Mab and her elemental Fire magic.
"Who cares if the bitch lives or dies?" Jonah McAllister scoffed. "She's nobody."
"That might be true, but unfortunately, Ms. Blanco is not without friends," Mab replied. "Most notably the Deveraux sisters."
"I don't care about those two dwarves," Jonah snapped. "You could easily kill both of them."
Mab gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. "Perhaps. But Jo-Jo Deveraux is quite popular. It might be entertaining, but killing her wouldn't win me any favors. Besides, I have other concerns at the moment, most notably Coolidge."
My dazed mind latched onto the unfamiliar name. Coolidge? Who was Coolidge? And what had he done to piss off Mab Monroe?
"You've had your fun, Jonah. Face it, Ms. Blanco isn't the one who killed Jake. And she's suffered plenty tonight for whatever insults she laid on him previously. Now, are you going to come quietly so we can talk business? Or should I start looking for a new attorney?" Malice dripped from Mab's voice like acid rain.
Jonah McAllister finally realized he wasn't going to win this one. And that if he kept arguing with his boss, she was likely to use her Fire magic to fry him where he stood. So the lawyer clamped his lips together and nodded his head, acquiescing to his boss's wishes. At least for tonight.
Then the silver-haired bastard turned and kicked me in the stomach as hard as he could.
The blow wasn't entirely unexpected, but it still made me retch up even more blood. Something hot and hard twisted in my stomach. I needed to get to Jo-Jo Deveraux soon so the dwarven Air elemental could heal me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be breathing much longer.
"Fine. We'll move on to the next person, then." Jonah McAllister leaned down and grabbed my brown ponytail, pulling my face up to his. "You talk to the cops about this, bitch, and you will die. Understand me?"
Cops? Oh, I had no intention of going to the cops. No siree. I was going to handle this matter all by my lonesome. But to keep up the act, I let out a low groan and nodded my head. Satisfied that I was suitably cowed this time, McAllister let go. I flopped back onto the ground.
"Let's get out of here," the lawyer growled. "The bitch dripped blood all over my coat."
Jonah McAllister stepped over my prone body and disappeared into the darkness. Elliot Slater and the other two giants followed him. But Mab Monroe stayed where she was and studied me with her dark gaze. Her power washed over me again, the invisible, fiery needles pricking my bloody skin. I bit back another groan.
"I do hope you've learned your lesson this time, Ms. Blanco," Mab said in a pleasant voice. "Because Jonah's right. Next time you cross one of us—any of us—you will die. And I promise you that it will be far more excruciating than what you've experienced here tonight."
A bit of black fire flashed in her eyes, backing up her deadly promise. Mab Monroe smiled at me a moment longer, then turned on her boot heel and vanished into the cold night.
© 2010 Jennifer Estep
Author Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
By night, Jennifer Estep is an author, prowling the streets of her imagination in search of her next fun, sexy fantasy idea.
Jennifer currently writes the Elemental Assassin urban fantasy series for Pocket Books. The star of the series is Gin Blanco, an assassin who can control the elements of ice and stone when she's not too busy running her barbecue restaurant, the Pork Pit. Jennifer is also the author of the Bigtime paranormal romance books, which feature sexy superheroes, evil ubervillains, and smart, sassy gals looking for love. Titles in the Berkley series include Karma Girl (May 2007), Hot Mama (November 2007), and Jinx (September 2008).
By day, Jennifer is an award-winning features page designer for a daily newspaper with a broad range of journalism and media experience. She's also a certifiable fangirl and an authority on fantasy literature and culture. Jennifer is a member of Romance Writers of America, Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, and other writing groups.
Jennifer's books have been featured in Cosmopolitan, Entertainment Weekly, Southern Living, and a variety of other publications. For more information, visit her Web site at http://www.jenniferestep.com/.
My Review:
This book was good. I thought it was really funny and well written but it wasnt one of my favorite books. However I think I would recomend it because I think it is a worthwhile read.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery for allowing me to read and review this novel!
Book Info:
(from publisher Simon & Schuster)
What kind of assassin works pro bono?
It's hard to be a badass assassin when a giant is beating the crap out of you. Luckily, I never let pride get in the way of my work. My current mission is personal: annihilate Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental who murdered my family. Which means protecting my identity, even if I have to conceal my powerful Stone and Ice magic when I need it most. To the public, I'm Gin Blanco, owner of Ashland's best barbecue joint. To my friends, I'm the Spider, retired assassin. I still do favors on the side. Like ridding a vampire friend of her oversized stalker—Mab's right-hand goon who almost got me dead with his massive fists. At least irresistible Owen Grayson is on my side. The man knows too much about me, but I'll take my chances. Then there's Detective Bria Coolidge, one of Ashland's finest. Until recently, I thought my baby sister was dead. She probably thinks the same about me. Little does she know, I'm a cold-blooded killer . . . who is about to save her life.
Book excerpt:
(Written by Jennifer Estep and from the Publisher Simon & Schuster)
Chapter 1
1
The bastards never even would have gotten close to me if I hadn't had the flu.
Coughing, sneezing, aching, wheezing. That was me. Gin Blanco. Restaurant owner. Stone and Ice elemental. Former assassin. And all-around badass. Laid low by a microbe.
It had started as a small, ominous tickle in my throat three days ago. And now, well, it wasn't pretty. Watery eyes. Pale face. And a nose so red and bright even Rudolph would have been jealous. Ugh.
The only reason I'd even crawled out of bed this evening was to come down to Ashland Community College and take the final for the classic literature class I was auditing. I'd finished my essay on symbolism in The Odyssey ten minutes ago. Now I plodded across one of the grassy campus quads and feverishly dreamed of sinking back into my bed and not getting out of it for a week.
Just after seven on a cold, clear December night. This was the last day of finals for the semester, and the campus was largely deserted. Only a few lights burned in the windows of the kudzu-covered brick buildings that rose above my head. The stones whispered of formulas, theories, and knowledge. An old, sonorous, slightly pretentious sound that was decidedly at odds with the sinister shadows that blackened most of the quad. No one else was within sight. Which is probably why they decided to jump me here. Well, that and the fact that kidnapping me would be such a bother.
One second I had my face buried in a tissue blowing my sore, drippy nose for the hundredth time today. The next, I looked up to find myself surrounded by three giants.
Oh, fuck.
I stopped, and they immediately closed ranks, forming a loose triangle of trouble around me. The giants were all around seven feet tall, with oversize, buglike eyes and fists almost as big as my head. One of them grinned at me and cracked his knuckles. Someone was anxious to get down to the business of beating me.
My gray eyes flicked to the leader of the group, who had taken up a position in front of me—Elliot Slater. Slater was the tallest of the three giants, his enormous figure making even his flunkies seem small in comparison. He was almost as wide as he was tall, with a solid, muscled frame. Granite would be easier to break than his ribs. Slater's complexion was pale, bordering on albino, and almost seemed to glow in the faint light. His hazel eyes provided a bit of color in his chalky skin, although his thin, tousled thatch of blond hair did little to cover his large skull. A diamond in his pinkie ring sparkled like a star in the dark night.
Up until my retirement a few months ago, I'd moonlighted as an assassin known as the Spider. Over the years, I'd had plenty of dealings in the shady side of life, so I knew Slater by sight and reputation. On paper, Elliot Slater was a highly respected security consultant with his own platoon of giant bodyguards. In reality, Slater was the number-one enforcer for Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental who ran the Southern metropolis of Ashland like it was her own personal fiefdom. Slater stepped in and either cut off, took care of, or permanently disposed of any pesky problems Mab didn't feel like dealing with herself.
And tonight it looked like that problem was me.
Not surprising. A couple of weeks ago, I'd stiffed someone during a party at Mab Monroe's mansion. Needless to say, the Fire elemental hadn't been too thrilled about one of her guests being murdered in her own home when she'd been entertaining a few hundred of her closest business associates. I'd gotten away with it so far, but I knew Mab was doing everything in her power to find the killer. To find me.
I sniffled into my tissue. I wondered if Mab had figured out who I really was. If that was why Slater was here tonight—
Elliot Slater looked over his broad shoulder. "Is this her?"
Slater slid to one side so another man, a much shorter human, could join the circle of giants surrounding me. Underneath his classic trench coat, the man wore a perfect black suit, and his polished wingtips gleamed like wet ink in the semidarkness. His thick mane of gunmetal gray hair resembled a heavy mantle of silver that had somehow been swirled and sculpted around his head. Too bad hate made his brown eyes look like congealed lumps of blood in his smooth, tight face.
I recognized him too. Jonah McAllister. On paper, McAllister was the city's premiere attorney, a charming, bellicose defense lawyer capable of getting the most vicious killer off scot-free—for the right price. In reality, the slick attorney was another one of Mab Monroe's top goons, just like Elliot Slater was. Jonah McAllister was Mab's personal lawyer, responsible for burying her enemies in legal red tape instead of in the ground like Slater did.
McAllister's son, Jake, was the one I'd murdered at Mab's party. The twentysomething, beefy frat boy had threatened to rape and murder me, among other things. I'd considered killing him pest extermination more than anything else.
Elliot Slater and Jonah McAllister tag-teaming me. This night just kept getting better and better. I sniffled again. Really should have stayed home in bed.
Jonah McAllister regarded me with cold eyes. "Oh, yes. That's her. The lovely Ms. Gin Blanco. The bitch who was giving my boy a hard time."
A hard time? I supposed so, if you thought turning him in to the cops for attempted robbery, breaking a plate full of food in his face, and ultimately stabbing Jake McAllister to death was a hard time. But I noticed that Jonah McAllister didn't say anything about me actually killing his son. Hmm. Looked like this was some sort of fishing expedition. I decided to play along—for now.
"What is this meeting all about?" My voice came out somewhere between a whiny wheeze and a phlegmy rasp. "Are you taking up Jake's bad habit of assaulting innocent people?"
Jonah McAllister's face hardened at my insult. As much as it could, anyway. Despite his sixty-some years, McAllister's features were as smooth as polished marble, thanks to a vigorous regimen of expensive Air elemental facial treatments. "I would hardly consider you innocent, Ms. Blanco. And you're the one who assaulted my precious boy first."
"Your precious boy came into my restaurant, tried to rob me, and almost killed two of my customers with his Fire elemental magic." I spat out the words, along with some phlegm. "All I did was defend myself. What does it matter now anyway? Your boy is dead because of some weird heart condition. At least, that's what was in the newspaper."
Jonah McAllister stared at me, trying to see if I knew more than I was letting on about his son's untimely demise. I used the lull to blow my nose—again. Fucking microbes.
McAllister's mouth twisted with disgust at the sight and sound of my sniffles. Admittedly, it wasn't my most attractive moment. He jerked his head at Elliot Slater, who nodded back.
"Now, Ms. Blanco," Slater drawled. "The reason for this meeting is that Mr. McAllister thought you might have some information about his son's death. Jake did have a bit of a heart condition, but there were also some suspicious circumstances surrounding his passing. Happened a couple of weeks ago."
Suspicious circumstances? I assumed that was polite talk for a sucking stab wound to the chest. But I kept my face blank and ignorant.
"Why would I know anything about Jake's death?" I asked. "The last time I saw the little punk was the day he brought his old man there down to the Pork Pit to threaten me into dropping the charges against him."
Lies, of course. I'd run into Jake McAllister one more time after that—at Mab Monroe's party. Even though I'd been gussied up as a hooker, he'd still recognized me. Since I'd been there to kill someone else, I'd lured sweet little Jakie into a bathroom, stabbed him to death, left his body in the bathtub, and washed the blood off my dress before going back out to the party. Nothing I hadn't done a hundred times before as the assassin the Spider. I certainly hadn't lost any sleep over it.
But right now, it looked like I might lose a whole lot more.
"See, that's the problem. My good friend Jonah doesn't believe you. So he asked me and some of my boys to come down here and see if perhaps we could jog something free from your memory." Slater smiled. His lips drew back, giving me a glimpse of his pale pink gums. The giant's grin reminded me of a jack-o'-lantern's gaping maw—completely hollow. "We're going to pay these sorts of visits to anyone Jake might have had a problem with. And your name was at the top of the list."
Of course it was. I was probably the only person in Ashland who'd ever dared to stand up to Jake McAllister. Now his daddy was going to make me pay for it.
Slater took off his suit jacket, handed it to Jonah McAllister, and started rolling up his shirtsleeves.
I sniffled, blew my nose again, and considered the situation. Four-on-one odds were never terrific, especially since three of the four men were giants. The oversize goons could be hard to bring down, even for a former assassin like me. None of the giants showed any obvious elemental abilities, like letting flames flicker on their clenched fists or forming Ice daggers with their bare hands. But that didn't mean they didn't have magic. Which would make them doubly hard to get rid of.
Still, if I hadn't had the flu, I might have considered killing them—or at least cutting down a couple so I could run away. Although I'd dragged myself out of bed this evening, I'd grabbed my silverstone knives on the way out the door. Five of them. Two tucked up my sleeves. One nestled in the small of my back. Two more in the sides of my boots. Never left home without them.
Of course, being an elemental myself I didn't really need my knives to kill. I could just use my magic to take down the giants. My Stone power was so strong that I could do practically anything I wanted to with the element. Like make bricks fly out of the wall of one of the surrounding buildings and use them to brain the giants in their melon-size heads. Splat, splat, splat. It'd be easier than using an Uzi. Hell, if I really wanted to show off, I could just crumble all four of the buildings that ringed the quad down on top of them.
I was also one of the rare elementals who could control more than one element. Stone and Ice, in my case. Until recently, my Ice magic had been far weaker than my Stone power. But thanks to a series of traumatic events, I could do much more with it now. Like create a wall of Ice knives to fling at the men. I'd sliced through a dwarf's skin doing just that. Giants weren't quite as tough as dwarves, at least when it came to cutting into them. Even if they did have more blood to spare than their shorter compatriots.
But the odds or how to go about killing the giants wasn't what was holding me back. Not really. It was the consequences; what would happen afterward when their boss, Mab Monroe, got involved.
Seventeen years ago, Mab Monroe had used her elemental Fire magic to kill my mother and older sister, a fact I'd only recently learned. She'd also tortured me, using her magic to superheat and burn a spider rune medallion into my palms. I was planning to deal with Mab myself after I figured out a few things, like why she'd murdered my family in the first place and where my long-lost baby sister, Bria, was now.
Taking care of Jonah McAllister and the rest of his hired help tonight would definitely tip my hand and draw even more of Mab's attention my way. I didn't want Mab and her minions to realize that I had any elemental magic. To suspect that I was anything more than the simple restaurant owner Jonah McAllister wanted dead for tattling on his son to the cops. At least, not before I killed her for what she'd done to me.
All that left me with only one option tonight—I was going to have to let the giants hurt me, beat me. That was the only way I could keep my cover identity as Gin Blanco safe, along with who I really was, Genevieve Snow.
Fuck. This was going to hurt.
Elliot Slater finished rolling up his sleeves. "Are you sure you don't have anything to tell us, Ms. Blanco?"
I sighed and shook my head. "I told you before. I don't know anything about Jake McAllister's death except what I read in the newspaper."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Slater murmured.
The giant stepped forward and flexed his fingers, ready to get on with things. Time for me to put on a little show. I widened my eyes, as though it had just sunk into my flu-addled brain what Elliot Slater was planning to do to me. I let out a phlegmy scream and turned to run, as though I'd forgotten all about the two giants standing behind me. I ran right into them, of course, and they reached for me. Even though I had no real intention of trying to break free, I still struggled to keep up appearances. Yelling, flailing, kicking out with my legs.
While I fought with the bigger, heavier men, I managed to discreetly slip the two silverstone knives that I had up my sleeves into the pockets of my jacket. I didn't want the giants to feel the weapons when they finally latched onto me. Most innocent women didn't go around wearing five knives on them, and my being so heavily armed would be the final nail in my coffin as far as Jonah McAllister was concerned about my involvement in his son's death.
The two giants laughed at me and my weak, exaggerated blows. After a minute of struggling, they seized my upper arms and turned me around to face Elliot Slater once more.
And that's when the fun really started.
Slater snapped his hand up and slammed his fist into my face. Bastard was quick, I'd give him that. I hadn't braced myself for the blow, and I jerked back in the giants' arms. The force almost tore me out of their grasp. Pain exploded like dynamite in my jaw.
But Slater didn't stop there. He spent the next two minutes beating me. One punch broke my drippy nose. Another cracked two of my ribs. And I didn't even want to think about the internal bleeding or what my face looked like at this point. Thud, thud, thud. I might as well have been a piece of meat the giant was tenderizing for dinner. Every part of me hurt and burned and throbbed and pulsed with pain.
And he laughed the whole time. Low, soft, chuckling laughs that made my skin crawl. Elliot Slater enjoyed hurting people. Really enjoyed it. His hard-on bulged against the zipper on his black pants.
Slater hit me again and stepped back. By this point, I hung limp between the two giants, all pretense of being tough and strong long gone. I just wanted this to be over with.
A hand grabbed my chin and forced my face up. I stared into Slater's hazel eyes. At least, I tried to. White starbursts kept exploding over and over in my field of vision, making it hard to focus. The light show was better than fireworks on the Fourth of July.
"Now," Elliot rumbled. "Do you want to reconsider what you know about Jake McAllister's death? Maybe you have something new to add?"
"I don't know anything about Jake's death," I mumbled through a mouthful of loose teeth. Blood spewed out of my split lips and cascaded down my navy fleece jacket. "I swear." I made my voice as low, weak, and whipped as I could.
Jonah McAllister stepped forward and peered at me. Malicious glee shimmered in his brown gaze. "Keep hitting her. I want the bitch to suffer."
Elliot Slater nodded and stepped back.
The giant spent another two minutes hitting me. More pain, more blood, more cracked ribs. As I coughed up another mouthful of coppery blood, it dawned on me that Slater just might beat me to death, right here in the middle of the campus quad. Jonah McAllister certainly wouldn't have any objections to that. Damn. Looked like I was going to have to go for my knives, blast them with my elemental magic, and blow my cover after all, if I still had the strength to do that—
"Enough."
A low voice floated out from somewhere deeper in the shadows. A soft, breathy sound that reminded me of pieces of silk wisping together. I knew that tone, that sultry cadence, knew exactly whom it belonged to. So did my inner psyche. Enemy, enemy, enemy, a little voice muttered in the back of my head. A strange, primal, elemental urge flooded my body, the desire to use my Stone and Ice magic to lash out and kill whoever and whatever was within striking distance.
Elliot Slater ignored the command and hit me again, adding to the pain that racked my body.
"I said enough." The voice dropped to a low hiss that crackled with power, menace, and the promise of death.
Elliot froze, his hand pulled halfway back to hit me again.
"Let her go. Now."
The two giants who'd had their hands clamped around my upper arms dropped me like I had the plague. I lay on the ground, my blood soaking into the frosty grass. Despite the pain, I managed to roll over onto my side. I also slid one of my silverstone knives out of my jacket pocket and palmed it. The weapon felt cold and comforting against the thick scar embedded in my palm.
Something rustled, and Mab Monroe stepped out of the shadows to my left.
The Fire elemental wore a long wool coat done in a dark forest green. Her red hair gleamed like polished copper, but her eyes were even blacker than the night sky. A bit of gold flashed around her pale throat in between the folds of her expensive coat.
I couldn't see that well, given the stars still exploding in my vision, but I knew what the gold flash was. Mab Monroe never went anywhere without wearing her signature rune necklace. A large, circular ruby surrounded by several dozen wavy rays. From previous sightings, I knew the intricate diamond cutting on the gold would catch the meager light and make it seem as though the rays were actually flickering. Or perhaps my vision was just that screwed up at the moment.
Still, I knew what the rune was. A sunburst. The symbol for fire. Mab Monroe's personal rune, used by her alone.
At the sight, the silverstone scars on my own palms started to itch and burn. Mab wasn't the only one here with a rune. I had one too. A small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. A spider rune. The symbol for patience. The rune had once been a medallion I'd worn on a chain around my neck, until Mab had used her Fire elemental magic to superheat and burn the silverstone metal into my palms like it was a cattle brand. That's how she'd tortured me the night she'd murdered my family. I was looking forward to returning the favor—someday soon.
Enemy, enemy, enemy; the little voice in the back of my head kept up its muttered chorus.
Mab Monroe walked over and stood beside Elliot Slater and Jonah McAllister. She glanced down at me with all the interest she might give a cockroach before she crushed it under the toe of her boot. Her dark eyes swallowed up the available light, the way a black hole might. I lay very, very still and tried to look like I was a mere inch away from death. Not much of a stretch tonight.
"I said enough, Jonah," Mab said. "Or have you forgotten that you and Elliot work for me?"
After a moment, Elliot Slater stepped back and bowed his head in deference. The other two giants did the same. But Jonah McAllister was too angry to heed the hard edge in Mab's breathy tone.
"This bitch made problems for my son, and I think she knows something about his death," McAllister barked. "I want her to pay for that. I want her to die for that."
Mab stared down at me again. "You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jonah. Ignoring the facts. It's most unbecoming."
"And what would those facts be?" McAllister demanded.
"That Ms. Blanco is just a woman, a mere, weak woman with no elemental magic or other notable strength or skills. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have used everything at her disposal to keep from being so viciously beaten tonight. She's not the person you're looking for, Jonah. More importantly, she's not the woman I'm looking for."
McAllister's brown eyes glittered. "You and your obsession with that blond whore. Why can't you accept the fact that she's dead? Buried somewhere in that coal mine, just like Tobias Dawson and his two men were?"
Mab's eyes grew even blacker. She reached for her Fire elemental magic, holding the power close to her like she might a lover. As an elemental myself, I could feel her magic, especially since she was consciously embracing it. Just the way Mab might have been able to sense my Stone and Ice magic, if I'd been stupid enough to actually reach for any of it.
Of course, I would have felt Mab's magic anyway, since she was one of the elementals who constantly gave off waves of power. The Fire elemental literally leaked magic, the way water would drip from a faucet. Unlike me. As long as I didn't draw upon my own elemental strength, didn't use it in any offensive way, others couldn't sense my power. A trait that had saved me more than once over the years.
Mab's magic pricked my skin like hot, invisible needles, adding to my misery, but I stayed still, giving no indication I could sense it—or that I knew what they were talking about.
"I doubt that hooker was a real hooker, and they never found her body in the rubble of the collapsed mine," Mab replied in a cold voice. "Until I see her body, she's not dead. I'm going to find her, Jonah, and then we can both have our revenge. She killed Dawson, and she's the one who killed your son. Not Ms. Blanco."
They were talking about the night of Mab's party, when I'd dressed up as a hooker to get close to Tobias Dawson, a greedy mine owner who was threatening some innocent people. Dawson was the one I was supposed to kill that night, but Jake McAllister had spotted me before I'd had a chance to do the hit. Mab had caught me in the bathroom a few minutes after I'd stabbed Jake to death. Evidently, the Fire elemental had put two and two together and realized that I'd stiffed Jake, then done the same to Tobias Dawson later on in his own mine. Not good.
"I agreed to this little test with the understanding that Ms. Blanco would live through it, should she prove herself to be innocent of your son's murder," Mab continued. "She's done so, at least to my satisfaction. Nobody would willingly let herself be beaten the way she has."
So Mab didn't understand the concept of self-sacrifice. Not surprising. I might have laughed, if it wouldn't have hurt so much. Still, I was doubly glad that I'd let Elliot Slater hit me. Otherwise, I would have been dead by now, ambushed from the sidelines by Mab and her elemental Fire magic.
"Who cares if the bitch lives or dies?" Jonah McAllister scoffed. "She's nobody."
"That might be true, but unfortunately, Ms. Blanco is not without friends," Mab replied. "Most notably the Deveraux sisters."
"I don't care about those two dwarves," Jonah snapped. "You could easily kill both of them."
Mab gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. "Perhaps. But Jo-Jo Deveraux is quite popular. It might be entertaining, but killing her wouldn't win me any favors. Besides, I have other concerns at the moment, most notably Coolidge."
My dazed mind latched onto the unfamiliar name. Coolidge? Who was Coolidge? And what had he done to piss off Mab Monroe?
"You've had your fun, Jonah. Face it, Ms. Blanco isn't the one who killed Jake. And she's suffered plenty tonight for whatever insults she laid on him previously. Now, are you going to come quietly so we can talk business? Or should I start looking for a new attorney?" Malice dripped from Mab's voice like acid rain.
Jonah McAllister finally realized he wasn't going to win this one. And that if he kept arguing with his boss, she was likely to use her Fire magic to fry him where he stood. So the lawyer clamped his lips together and nodded his head, acquiescing to his boss's wishes. At least for tonight.
Then the silver-haired bastard turned and kicked me in the stomach as hard as he could.
The blow wasn't entirely unexpected, but it still made me retch up even more blood. Something hot and hard twisted in my stomach. I needed to get to Jo-Jo Deveraux soon so the dwarven Air elemental could heal me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be breathing much longer.
"Fine. We'll move on to the next person, then." Jonah McAllister leaned down and grabbed my brown ponytail, pulling my face up to his. "You talk to the cops about this, bitch, and you will die. Understand me?"
Cops? Oh, I had no intention of going to the cops. No siree. I was going to handle this matter all by my lonesome. But to keep up the act, I let out a low groan and nodded my head. Satisfied that I was suitably cowed this time, McAllister let go. I flopped back onto the ground.
"Let's get out of here," the lawyer growled. "The bitch dripped blood all over my coat."
Jonah McAllister stepped over my prone body and disappeared into the darkness. Elliot Slater and the other two giants followed him. But Mab Monroe stayed where she was and studied me with her dark gaze. Her power washed over me again, the invisible, fiery needles pricking my bloody skin. I bit back another groan.
"I do hope you've learned your lesson this time, Ms. Blanco," Mab said in a pleasant voice. "Because Jonah's right. Next time you cross one of us—any of us—you will die. And I promise you that it will be far more excruciating than what you've experienced here tonight."
A bit of black fire flashed in her eyes, backing up her deadly promise. Mab Monroe smiled at me a moment longer, then turned on her boot heel and vanished into the cold night.
© 2010 Jennifer Estep
Author Info:
(from Publisher Simon & Schuster)
By night, Jennifer Estep is an author, prowling the streets of her imagination in search of her next fun, sexy fantasy idea.
Jennifer currently writes the Elemental Assassin urban fantasy series for Pocket Books. The star of the series is Gin Blanco, an assassin who can control the elements of ice and stone when she's not too busy running her barbecue restaurant, the Pork Pit. Jennifer is also the author of the Bigtime paranormal romance books, which feature sexy superheroes, evil ubervillains, and smart, sassy gals looking for love. Titles in the Berkley series include Karma Girl (May 2007), Hot Mama (November 2007), and Jinx (September 2008).
By day, Jennifer is an award-winning features page designer for a daily newspaper with a broad range of journalism and media experience. She's also a certifiable fangirl and an authority on fantasy literature and culture. Jennifer is a member of Romance Writers of America, Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, and other writing groups.
Jennifer's books have been featured in Cosmopolitan, Entertainment Weekly, Southern Living, and a variety of other publications. For more information, visit her Web site at http://www.jenniferestep.com/.
My Review:
This book was good. I thought it was really funny and well written but it wasnt one of my favorite books. However I think I would recomend it because I think it is a worthwhile read.
I would like to thank the people at Gallery for allowing me to read and review this novel!
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