The eighth book in the funny and fast-paced InCryptid urban fantasy series returns to the mishaps of the Price family, eccentric cryptozoologists who safeguard the world of magical creatures living in secret among humans.
A place where two roads cross.
A place where bargains can be made.
See also “places to avoid.”
Antimony Price has never done well without a support system. As the youngest of her generation, she has always been able to depend on her parents, siblings, and cousins to help her out when she’s in a pinch—until now. After fleeing from the Covenant of St. George, she’s found herself in debt to the crossroads and running for her life. No family. No mice. No way out.
Lucky for her, she’s always been resourceful, and she’s been gathering allies as she travels: Sam, fūri trapeze artist turned boyfriend; Cylia, jink roller derby captain and designated driver; Fern, sylph friend, confidant, and maker of breakfasts; even Mary, ghost babysitter to the Price family. Annie’s actually starting to feel like they might be able to figure things out—which is probably why things start going wrong again.
New Gravesend, Maine is a nice place to raise a family…or make a binding contract with the crossroads. For James Smith, whose best friend disappeared when she tried to do precisely that, it’s also an excellent place to plot revenge. Now the crossroads want him dead and they want Annie to do the dirty deed. She owes them, after all.
And that’s before Leonard Cunningham, aka, “the next leader of the Covenant,” shows up…
It’s going to take everything Annie has and a little bit more to get out of this one. If she succeeds, she gets to go home. If she fails, she becomes one more cautionary tale about the dangers of bargaining with the crossroads.
But no pressure.
Book Description Courtesy of Amazon
I was given a copy of this book by Netgalley for an honest review.
Annie and her crew have settled in New Gravesend, Maine. They meet James Smith who is trying to get his friend back from the crossroads. As they research how to get her back, the come to find out that a dark entity has killed the original owner of the crossroads. Now they need to find James’ friend and kill this dark entity. This was such an awesome read that kept me wanting more. Seanan Mcguire Is a master of her craft. Her word building and storytelling is always very well-developed. I cannot wait for the next book in the series. I give That Ain’t Witchcraft (InCryptid Book 8) 5/5 stars.
About the book:
Nell can draw magic from the land around her, and lately she’s been using it to help the Psi-Law Enforcement division, which solves paranormal crimes. Joining the team at PsyLED has allowed her to learn more about her powers and the world she always shunned—and to find true friends.
Head agent Rick LaFleur shifts into a panther when the moon calls him, but this time, something has gone wrong. Rick calls Nell from a riverbank—he’s naked, with no memory of how he came to be there, and there’s a dead black cat, sacrificed in a witch circle and killed by black magic, lying next to him.
Then more animals turn up dead, and the team rushes to investigate. A blood-witch is out to kill. But when it seems as if their leader is involved in the crime, the bonds that hold the team together could shatter at any moment.
“Proper channels means we’ll never know who was suppressing reports to us, because KPD will never share that.”
“Copy that,” I said. I started typing my summation report to Rick. “The sacrifices appear to be evolving, accelerating and decelerating in terms of the focals used and the animals sacrificed.” I stopped typing and looked out the window into the night. “She’s good at killing things.” I put my fingers back on the keyboard and took up where I left off. “The runes in the circles suggest preparation and planning toward a greater black-magic spell. Future human sacrifice cannot be ruled out as an ultimate intent.” That part hadn’t occurred to me until I typed it out, and a chill went through me.
Laine said, “I just pulled up Rick’s schedule. He was hundreds of miles away on some of the older black cat circles. Either he felt a calling from way off and didn’t tell us or the summoning spell has a limited footprint. I’m going with a limited footprint. But we need to talk to him.”
Haltingly, Tandy said, “But—well—I have to tell you both, privately.” We both turned to the empath. “I’ve noticed an increase in anxiety, irritation, and temper from Rick on the waning moon for the last two or three moon cycles.”
“That’s not good,” T. Laine said. “Is it getting worse?”
“No.” Tandy looked puzzled at that. “And it goes away. Coincidence again?”
“Or he’s lonely and that’s the time of the cycle where he feels it most?” I suggested.
“Were-creatures are sensitive to lots of things,” Tandy said, “and I may be the only empath to ever work closely with werecats, so I don’t know what’s normal.”
“Occam acting jumpy?” T. Laine asked.
“Not at all. Rick is . . . different.” The empath stood, went to the coffeepot, and refilled his mug. Black this time.
I held a hand over my own cup. Tandy started pacing and sipping his coffee, his body movements beginning to take on a human version of Rick’s lithe motions. I realized he was drinking coffee the way Rick drank his and I was fascinated at the transformation. T. Laine sat up in her chair, watching the change, her eyebrows up in surprise.
“You felt maggots at one site,” he said. “I think we need to know if Mithrans had been called there. Maybe before Rick got there?”
“Could be. And if so, then the fact that we got to tonight’s circle so fast could mean the vamps arrived but were able to stop approaching the circle before we saw them.” I stopped and drew out the site of that circle on a legal pad, including nearby roads and parking areas. “Yes, there could have been vamps present. I never read with the psy-meter here”—I pointed to a warehouse—“here”—I pointed back to Walmart—“or here”—I pointed to the roads near the creek where a vamp might have parked. “I haven’t been to all the circles, so I don’t know if there were vamps there or not. Why?”
“What if there’s a para hate group with a single witch attached, calling on the undead, trying to capture or kill a vamp, and Rick just got caught up in one of the spells with a black cat,” Tandy said.
Faith Hunter’s Jane Yellowrock series is a dark urban fantasy. Jane is a full blooded Cherokee skinwalker and hunter of rogue-vampires in a world of weres, witches, vampires, and other supernats.
Her Rogue Mage novels—Bloodring, Seraphs, Host, and the RPG Rogue Mage—feature Thorn St. Croix, a stone mage in a post-apocalyptic alternate reality.
The Soulwood series is a dark-urban fantasy / paranormal police procedural /para-thriller series featuring Nell Nicholson Ingram, an earth magic user and Special gent of PsyLED.
Faith writes full-time, tries to keep house, and is a workaholic. She gave up cooking for lent one year and the oven hasn’t been turned on since. Okay – that’s a joke. She does still make cold cereal and sandwiches. Occasionally, she remembers to turn on Roomba (that she named Duma$$ because it fell down the stairs once.)
Faith researches in great detail, and tries most everything her characters do. Research led to her life’s passions – jewelry making, orchids, bones, travel, white-water kayaking, and writing.
Jewelry-making was the occupation of two of her characters: Thorn St. Croix, the Rogue Mage, and the main character of BloodStone, written by her pen name, Gwen Hunter. She fell in love with the art form. Faith makes, wears, and sometimes gives away her jewelry as promo items to fans and as prizes in contests. See her FaceBook Fan Page at http://www.facebook.com/official.faith.hunter for pics. She works with stones, pearls, crystal, and glass, wire wrapping larger, undrilled, focal stones. Labradorite, Amazonite, apatite, aquamarine, and prehnite are her favorite stones.
Faith loves orchids. Her favorite time of year is when several are blooming. Pictures can be seen at her FaceBook page. And yes, she collects bones and skulls. Many of her orchid pics are juxtaposed with bones and skulls —a fox, cat, dog, cow skull, goat, and deer skull, (that is, unfortunately, falling apart) and the jawbone of an ass. She just received a boar skull, and the skull of a mountain lion (legally purchased from a US tannery) killed in the wild.
She and her husband RV, traveling to whitewater rivers all over the Southeast.
And that leads Faith to kayaking – her very favorite sport. Faith discovered whitewater paddling when she was researching her (Gwen Hunter) mystery book, Rapid Descent. She took a lesson and—after a bout of panic attacks from fear of drowning—discovered she loved the sport.
Faith is one of the founders and a participant at the now defunct and archived www.MagicalWords.net, an online writing forum geared to helping writers. And she is a voracious reader.
Under other pen names, notably, Gwen Hunter, she writes action adventure, mysteries, and thrillers. As Gwen, she is a winner of the WH Smith Literary Award for Fresh Talent in 1995 in the UK, and won a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award in 2008. As Faith, her books have been on the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists, been nominated for various awards and won an Audie Award with Khristine Hvam. Under all her pen names, she has more than 40 books, anthologies, and complications in print in 30 countries.
Now in hardcover, the twelfth installment of the Hugo-nominated, New York Times-bestselling Toby Daye urban fantasy series!
Things are not okay.
In the aftermath of Amandine’s latest betrayal, October “Toby” Daye’s fragile self-made family is on the verge of coming apart at the seams. Jazz can’t sleep, Sylvester doesn’t want to see her, and worst of all, Tybalt has withdrawn from her entirely, retreating into the Court of Cats as he tries to recover from his abduction. Toby is floundering, unable to help the people she loves most heal. She needs a distraction. She needs a quest.
What she doesn’t need is the abduction of her estranged human daughter, Gillian. What she doesn’t need is to be accused of kidnapping her own child by her ex-boyfriend and his new wife, who seems to be harboring secrets of her own. There’s no question of whether she’ll take the case. The only question is whether she’s emotionally prepared to survive it.
Signs of Faerie’s involvement are everywhere, and it’s going to take all Toby’s nerve and all her allies to get her through this web of old secrets, older hatreds, and new deceits. If she can’t find Gillian before time runs out, her own child will pay the price.
Two questions remain: Who in Faerie remembered Gillian existed? And what do they stand to gain?
No matter how this ends, Toby’s life will never be the same.
Book Description Courtesy of Amazon
I was given a copy of this book by Netgalley for an honest review.
I love Seanan McGuire’s writing. She brings the words to life. It is like I am actually there, and sharing in the adventure with them. Toby’s relationship has been strained after what her mother, Amandine, did to Tybalt. She hasn’t seen him in a while, for he has withdrawn to the Court of Cats. Now just as we think she has a chance catch her breath and process everything that has happened, her ex-husband is at her door telling her that her daughter Gillian is missing from College. I swear, Toby cannot catch a break. It is like she is a magnet for trouble. This was a great book to read, and cannot wait to read the next installment. I give Night and Silence (October Daye) 5/5 stars.
Meet the furry big brother that the Wird sisters never had…
Bren is a cocky, brash hound of a werewolf who loathes the idea of belonging to Aric’s pack—much less finding a mate. But Bren’s hotheaded behavior lands him in the doghouse when he defies Aric’s authority in front of his pack, bringing up a sore subject that’s bound to make the Alpha wolf’s blood boil…
Luckily for him, no one can stay mad at Bren and his wild charm for long. And when some frightening ghosts launch a hostile paranormal takeover, Bren will team up with Celia to take down the evil ghouls before they hurt someone they both love…
EXCLUSIVE REVEAL EXCERPT
“Damn it, Bren—wake up!”
“Hmmph?” Someone with a death wish was shaking me. You don’t disturb a werewolf’s sleep; that’s just common fucking sense. The breeze shot through the cracked opened window, bringing a strong whiff of Tahoe’s magic. I grinned and inhaled. That shit was better than witch ganja, and it lulled me back to sleep.
But then Dan flipped on the leg lamp on my nightstand and opened his yap again. “Wake up, I mean it.”
“You can take that werewolf shit and shove it up your ass.”
That made me chuckle into my pillow. Dan swearing was damn funnier than Elmo dropping the “F” bomb. He shook me again, this time harder. I flipped over and tried to get comfortable.
“For crying out loud, put some pants on! I don’t need to see your . . . stuff.”
“It’s my goddamn room. I can sleep naked if I want. And what the hell do you mean by ‘stuff’? What are you, ten?”
Dan ignored me. “Bren, your stupid one-night stand stole all our food, our DVDs, and our laundry detergent.”
I half-opened one eye. “Wendy wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“Her name was Natasha.”
“That’s the name she wrote all over my bathroom with her lipstick.”
I sat abruptly, suddenly panicked. “She didn’t take my porn, did she?”
Dan’s jaw slacked. “Is that all you care about, that she took your porn?”
“No. For shit’s sake I’m hungrier than hell. How are you going to fix me breakfast without any food?”
Dan threw his hands in the air, in that same exaggerated way he always did when I pushed him to his breaking point. He kicked my dirty clothes on the floor and paced like an expectant dad. “You have the audacity to think I’d actually cook you breakfast—after what your one-nighter did?”
I scratched my beard. Damn, I needed a trim. “Well, yeah. It’s your job around here, you’re the woman. You’re supposed to cook, clean, and pay most of the bills. My job is to keep your ass safe from humans, vamps, weres, witches, little old ladies, and pretty much anything else you’re afraid of. It’s part of our deal, along with me getting you laid.”
Dan stomped to the side of my bed, stumbling over a pair of my old jeans. “First of all, it was just that one little old lady. I may be human, but I’m pretty sure she was some kind of spirit―especially given the amount of supernatural activity around here lately. Secondly, I don’t need help getting laid.”
I stared at my beanpole roommate. His messy curly hair hung over his thick black-framed glasses, and he tripped over air on a regular basis. Jesus. There were Girl Scouts more muscular and agile than him. “Yes, you do, Dan.”
“I’ve gotten laid a lot lately, all without your help.”
“Ugly girls don’t count, man.”
“Celia’s not ugly.”
I laughed and yanked at my overgrown hair. Damn, I needed a cut, too. But unlike Dan, I did grunge well. “Celia was more than eight years ago.” I chuckled again. Talk about a mercy lay.
He narrowed his eyes. “What’s so funny?”
“I still can’t believe you were her first. How’d you talk her into it? Did you promise to tutor her in chemistry or something?”
Dan’s entire face reddened, making him look more like a tomato than a walking piece of broccoli. “Whatever, Bren. I’ll prove to you I can get laid.”
“Sure, sure, you can get laid. Don’t get your thong in a bunch.”
Dan stamped his foot. Shit, I only thought girls did that.
“I mean it, Bren. I have to work late at the lab tonight, but I’ll meet you at eleven at the Watering Hole. I’m going to get a girl so hot your head will spin.”
I yawned. “Sure you will, buddy.”
“Fine. If you don’t believe me, how about we bet on it?”
“Dan, you don’t want to bet me on something like that. You’ll only lose and embarrass yourself.”
“You’re just afraid. I thought you were a wolf, not a chicken.”
My brows furrowed and I snarled. “Did you just call me a chicken?” This time it was Dan’s turn to laugh. I could be pretty damn intimidating, but he knew I’d never hurt him. He was a mothering pain in the ass, but also the best friend I’d ever had.
“You heard me, clucky.”
A slow grin eased across my face. “All right then, name the terms.”
“The loser has to clean and cook for the rest of the year . . .”
“Is that the best you can come up with? Oooh, I’m real scared now.”
“. . . wearing a French maid outfit, regardless of who’s in the apartment.”
My grin widened. The little turd had some balls after all. “You’re on.” I held out my hand. He refused to shake it until after I showered.
ABOUT CECY ROBSON
Cecy Robson is an author of contemporary and new adult romance, young adult adventure, and award-winning urban fantasy. A double-nominated RITA® Finalist, Winner of the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, and published author of more than twenty titles, you can typically find Cecy on her laptop or stumbling blindly in search of caffeine.
Charley is a cleaner by day and a professional gambler by night. She might be haunted by her tragic past but she’s never thought of herself as anything or anyone special. Until, that is, things start to go terribly wrong all across the city of Manchester. Between plagues of rats, firestorms and the gleaming blue eyes of a sexy Scottish werewolf, she might just have landed herself in the middle of a magical apocalypse. She might also be the only person who has the ability to bring order to an utterly chaotic new world.
This is the first book in The City Of Magic series.
About the Author
After teaching English literature in the UK, Japan, and Malaysia, Helen Harper left behind the world of education following the worldwide success of her Blood Destiny series of books. She is a professional member of the Alliance of Independent Authors and writes full time, thanking her lucky stars every day that’s she lucky enough to do so!
Helen has always been a book lover, devouring science fiction and fantasy tales when she was a child growing up in Scotland.
She currently lives in Devon in the UK with far too many cats – not to mention the dragons, fairies, demons, wizards, and vampires that seem to keep appearing from nowhere.