"The eye sees only what the mind is prepared to comprehend."
Deadline
(Blood Trails Series, Bk 1)By Jennifer BlackstreamBlurb: As a witch with a dark past, Shade Renard knows the Otherworld isn’t always successful at policing itself. Humans don’t believe in magic anymore, and their ignorance renders them easy prey. So when an FBI contact hires her to consult on a possible haunting in a missing persons case, Shade seizes the opportunity to see justice done.
Her case takes an unexpected turn when an undead crime lord shows up on her doorstep. A bold thief stole the vampire’s little black book of secrets—and he’ll pay a lot more than an FBI consulting fee to get it back. To collect, Shade will have to confront a rogue sorceress, a vengeful wizard, and a lethally seductive fey, with only her wits, her growing magic, and a sarcastic pixie familiar.
Success means bringing a killer to justice and taking the first step to redemption. Failure means a war between humans and the Otherworld.
No pressure.
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Excerpt
My instincts flared as I pulled into my
driveway. The sun had set and it was dark, but the automatic light on my garage
didn’t
come on. I frowned.
“Did
you disconnect the automatic light?”
Peasblossom curled against my neck, her wet
dress adding to a sudden chill in the air inside the car. “No.”
Unease rolled down my spine. I murmured a
spell, drawing a few circles in the air. “Lumen.”
Three glowing balls of
reddish light bloomed to life and hovered before me. I kept one over my head
and sent the other two forward, illuminating my path to the front door. I didn’t
open the garage door and pull in, but got out while I was still in the
driveway, already preparing another spell as I climbed out of the driver’s
seat.
“Revelare.” My power flowed in a wash of silver toward
the house, probing for any foreign magic.
Nothing.
“Stay
here,” I told Peasblossom. “If I don’t call for you, go to Mother Hazel and
tell her everything that happened today.”
“But
I won’t have anything to tell her unless I stay to see what happens,”
Peasblossom hissed. “I’m not leaving you.”
“This
might be nothing.” I kept my voice as low as possible. “The bulb may have
burned out. Don’t be silly.”
“I’m
not silly and I’m not stupid. You think there’s something bad inside. And a
witch never ignores her gut.”
A lump rose in my throat, and I fought to
swallow around it. “Please stay out here. I can’t bear the idea of anything
happening to you.”
Peasblossom gave my ear a ferocious hug. “I’ll
stay out here, but only as backup. I will never leave you.”
I waited for her to fly up and off my
shoulder before straightening my spine. This was my house. My village. Whatever
was here, whatever had violated my home, would be sorry. Power rose in my
throat, feeding the spell I’d readied.
“Shade,
look out!”
I whirled around and spat behind me. The
spell hurtled through the air, and I had a split second to see a dark figure
separate itself from the maple tree beside my driveway. The spell landed in the
grass, the viscous blue fluid of the entanglement spell pooling in the tree’s
shadow.
“Such
attacks will not be necessary.”
A man spoke from beside me, smooth and
masculine, voice heavy with an accent I hadn’t heard in a long time.
A very, very long time.
I turned, knowing I’d
never call up another spell fast enough. I raised my hand anyway, needing to
try, to go down fighting. A hand closed around my wrist, tight enough that I
swore I heard my bones creak. I gritted my teeth and stared into the face of my
visitor.
He was dressed in a suit that probably cost
more than my car. Long white-blond hair brushed his shoulders and framed a pale
face with sharp, graceful features. I couldn’t see what color his eyes
were in this light, but it didn’t matter. I remembered his face.
He went by the name Anton Winters, majority
shareholder of the Winters Group, a company that made the Forbes 500 list look
like a gathering of struggling start-ups. There were whispers he had criminal
connections, that he was former KGB. I knew the truth. And it was scarier.
Anton Winters had once been known by a
different name.
Prince Kirill of Dacia .
A vampire.
Jennifer doesn’t have spare time, but she makes it a point to spend at least one night a week with her sibling binge-watching whatever show they’re currently plowing through (currently Numbers on Netflix), and she ferociously guards quality time with her son and daughter. She cooks when she has the sanity for it—adding garlic to the recipe whether it calls for it or not—and tries very hard not to let her arachnophobia keep her out of her basement on laundry day.
You can find Jennifer at
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