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If you'd asked me a week ago, I would have told you that the best cupcakes were dark chocolate with chocolate cream cheese icing, that dancing in a crowd of magic wielders — the Adept — was better than sex, and that my life was peaceful and uneventful. Just the way I liked it. That's what twenty-three years in the magical backwater of Vancouver will get you — a completely skewed sense of reality. Because when the dead werewolves
...I preferred it when life came in tidy packages. When it didn't — when something went awry — I was exceedingly skilled at packaging it back up. It was my job to do so after all. I was a reconstructionist. I collected the puzzle pieces, then I gave those pieces to an investigative team to sort out. I didn't ask questions. I didn't offer answers. I saw. I recorded. I moved on. I didn't dwell or obsess. I didn't hunt down
...The warriors have fallen. And those they previously protected must now band together to keep the invaders at bay. Mory, a young necromancer; Rochelle, a pregnant oracle; and Jasmine, a fledgling vampire, will do whatever it takes, whatever the cost, to prevent the fated future from unfolding. Even if that means they must become warriors themselves.
Graveyards, Visions, and Other Things that Byte consists of three novellas narrated by Mory,
...Three months ago, I lost my foster sister, Sienna, to the darkness. As in blood magic and chaos and general mayhem. No one saw it until it was too late, but I should have. Now, I have a wounded heart and soul that I can't even reveal to anyone around me, because I'm supposed to hate Sienna with the fiery passion of the justified. And I do. I just wish I didn't feel so lost without her, so unsure of the path I thought I had carved for myself, and
...I hadn't set foot in the human world for more than a few hours in over three and a half months. Sure, I was stronger and faster than I'd ever been before, and I had a shiny new sword, but I was seriously chocolate deprived. I don't recommend quitting cold turkey. And the new sword was a problem — to my mind, anyway. It represented all the expectations of a powerful father and a new otherworldly life. A life that wasn't the one I'd worked
...I had new cupcakes to bake, a new treasure to hunt, and a new dragon in town — literally. Who wouldn't be ecstatic filling their days with chocolate, trinket collecting, and martial arts training?
Yeah ... me.
Because no matter how much chocolate I ate, I couldn't fill the dark pit in my soul. A darkness born from blood alchemy. A darkness that reeked of the black magic I now knew I was capable of creating.
Maybe it was time
Two more elves were at large in Vancouver, but thankfully they'd been keeping a low profile while I faced the most daunting task of my twenty-seven years — planning and executing my wedding. I was dealing with a disgruntled grandmother with an extensive guest wish list of the magically inclined, all of whom didn't particularly like each other. Plus a fiance whose concept of time was altered whenever he stepped into a dimensional pocket, and
...I'd been compromised, then turned against those I loved. But no one controlled me. No one took anything I didn't willingly offer. Not for long, anyway.
If the elves wanted a war, I'd bring it. The instruments of assassination would come out to play. The dragon slayer would wreak bloody, sticky vengeance. And then I was getting freaking married — no elves invited.
Even a baker of cupcakes and a maker of trinkets occasionally had
...One treasure down, two to go ...
Three months ago, I nearly lost my best friend while retrieving the first instrument of assassination. I also inadvertently released a rival who was definitely unhinged, way more powerful than me, and obsessed with harnessing the deadly power of the artifacts I'd been tasked by the guardian dragons to collect.
Add a sexy sentinel and a nearly immortal vampire to the mix, and what could possibly go wrong?
Knowing
...I wasn't even remotely interested in collecting the third instrument of assassination. It was far better for everyone involved — and for Warner, specifically — if I just let it be. And since I was the only one who could retrieve the artifacts, I figured it was my call to make.
I was wrong.
And though that wasn't unusual, I was just so ... so ... wrong ... about everything.
I was wrong about who I was protecting and
...I had everything I'd ever wanted — a successful business with a second bakery in the works, a sexy fiance who I adored, and good friends who loved to laugh almost as much as I did.
So of course it couldn't possibly last.
Unfortunately, this time the trouble was homegrown in Vancouver, threatening my own backyard and those who were under my protection — whether they wanted to be or not.
I was, after all, the wielder
...The day I turned nineteen, I expected to gain what little freedom I could within the restrictions of my bank account and the hallucinations that had haunted me for the last six years. I expected to drive away from a life that had been dictated by the tragedy of others and shaped by the care of strangers. I expected to be alone. Actually, I relished the idea of being alone. Instead, I found fear I thought I'd overcome. Uncertainty I thought I'd
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