DIRTY DEEDS 2!It’s out! It’s looking good in numbers!
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When the going gets tough, the tough get their hands dirty.
Join NY Times bestselling authors Faith Hunter and Jennifer Estep along with USA Today bestselling authors R.J. Blain, Diana Pharaoh Francis, and Devon Monk on a brand-new romp through magical worlds where the damsels bring the distress, what can go wrong will go wrong, and nothing is as it seems.
Adventure with Eli Younger, Liz Everhart, and Brute in the thrilling world of Jane Yellowrock. Face off against old gods and lost souls at a magical crossroads on Route 66. Become entangled in Ashland’s dark, deadly web with side characters from the Elemental Assassin series. Return to the irreverent world of Beck Wyatt, where disaster waits around every corner and cheesecake makes it all worthwhile. And finally, meet up with the Quinns and friends in the zany world of the Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) series.
In this collection of all-new urban fantasy and paranormal stories, the gloves are off and simply surviving might just be the dirtiest, most difficult deed of all.
From RJ Blain’s, 101 Ways to Die:
Captain Hugh Frankson of the NYPD stormed to my desk and slapped a file down on the ever-growing stack of misdemeanors I needed to register in our database before I could leave. Any other day, I would have indulged in an anxiety attack over the man’s unexpected appearance.
Whenever the captain showed up at my desk, hell came chasing on the heels of high water, as he went out of his way in his idiotic attempt to prove women had no business being on the force.
Today, however, the hell and the high water had already come calling in the form of the Chief Quinns, who haunted the station somewhere, doing whatever it was chiefs did when checking in on precincts they were responsible for. In addition to dodging jabs over my gender, I’d likely escape from being ribbed over my mixed heritage thanks to their presence. Aware the captain would lose his shit if he believed I wasn’t taking him seriously, I set aside the case I’d been working on and picked up the folder.
Before I had a chance to flip it open and behold the terrors within, the captain announced, “You’re being transferred.” His declaration carried through the open room, loud enough everyone could hear—even the cops busy on the phone. A still quiet fell over the cubicle farm, except for the cops forced to continue their conversations. “I’ll take your cruiser keys now. You’ll have a ride to your new place of employment.”
Well, screw me sideways with a baton while lighting me on fire. With a little luck, the poor bastard saddled with my cruiser would survive the experience; it had needed to retire years ago, but I kept the damned thing running through investing a few hours every week at home convincing the engine to keep trucking along. I opened my drawer, grabbed my keys, unclipped the dying vehicle’s keys, and handed them over. “Effective immediately, sir?”
Captain Frankson snatched the keys out of my hand. “Yes.”
Before I could say another word, he blew through the cubicle farm in the direction of his office and turned the corner. A moment later, a door slammed.
“Damn, McMarin. What did you do?”
***
Remembering how Gin had saved me all those years ago made another thought pop into my mind. “Wait a second. When exactly is this not-big-and-fancy party of yours?”
Mallory winced, as though she’d just been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. “This coming weekend.”
“This weekend? As in when Gin will still be out of town with Owen, Finn, and Bria?”
Gin was taking a much-needed vacation, along with Owen Grayson, her significant other; Finnegan Lane, her foster brother; and Detective Bria Coolidge, her biological sister. I applauded Gin for scheduling some time off. If anyone could use a break from all the crime and corruption in the city, it was the Spider.
Not only was she an assassin with a list of enemies a mile long, but now that Mason Mitchell was dead, Gin was also the official queen of the Ashland underworld, and thus responsible for settling disputes between the various crime bosses, most of whom were about as mature as two-year-old toddlers throwing temper tantrums.
“Well, the four of them were at the original reception,” Mallory replied in a defensive tone. “I didn’t think they would mind if we had a little party while they were gone.”
I snorted again. “You mean you didn’t want to risk another one of Gin’s enemies crashing this new party and ruining it like Emery Slater did the first one.”
Mallory winced again. “Okay, fine, pumpkin. You caught me. Yes, I decided to hold the party this weekend while Gin is gone. I thought her not being there might lessen the risk of something bad happening.”
It was a fair point. Trouble followed Gin Blanco around like a wolf stalking a deer through the forest.
You know you want this book! Enjoy!
Faith