Myra stared back at the silent group in the common room, daring them to remark on her appearance. No one took up her silent challenge until Jaxon walked in. “What the hell are you wearing, Mys?” “A dress.” “That’s a little more than a dress. You planning on infiltrating the Ruler’s ball or something?” “Yes.” …
Giselle stared at the readout. There was a pattern here, she could feel it. Unfortunately, the head of the lab didn’t accept ‘feelings’ as valid data, even when they’d proven correct every other time. It was there, but she had no idea how to find it, what it was, what it meant. Even an inkling …
For all Raf had no time for committees or whatever else they tried to call themselves, he had to admit the Administrative Council of Forgotten did their job well. Largely because they stayed within their self-imposed label – administration. They didn’t try to rule, or police, or judge. When one of the criminal gangs from …
According to Phaedra, negotiation consisted entirely of playing one parent off against the other. But then, she’d never had a job Daddy hadn’t paid for. At the moment, she was an assistant communications executive at a PR firm that really didn’t have the time or energy for the lunches and chatty champagne hours Phaedra seemed …
Harte wasn’t so much a friend as an ally, but that potentially made him more useful in what was a tricky situation. Reba was about to step out and greet him, but Bryon put a hand on her arm, and gestured to the cat on his shoulders. Misty’s instinct for trouble, more specifically, her dislike …
Reba spotted her apprentice’s signal from the shadows behind a pile of rotting barrels and beckoned him over. He ghosted across the street, a pulsing artery of the city’s merchant area in the day time, quiet as a tomb at night. Misty was draped across Byron’s shoulders, greeting Reba with a sharp-toothed yawn. She was …
“Why should I solve your problems? Again.” Ari sat back, trying to keep her expression cool and challenging instead of furious. Phaedre bit her lip, a singe tear trailing from one eye. “I didn’t mean to…” “You never do. And you never learn. It’s past time you grew up.” “But…” Ari stood. “No. I told …
Livvy cringed and tried to smile at the sight of the too-bulky, too-short sweater. Knitted in Nan’s favourite squeaky polyester yarn in a particularly lurid shade of snot green. “Thanks Nan, I love it.” Why couldn’t she be more like Emily and Amanda’s Nan, who just gave them gift vouchers? Nan smiled, it lit up …
The front door slammed, Joy called out. “Tea and cake in the kitchen.” The magic mention of food brought two scowling teenagers to the huge, battered table in the middle of the back room. Joy left them to demolish most of the generous slices of chocolate fudge cake she’d served. Then, as the eating slowed …
Nathaniel Gracen, Imperial Prime Minister, hoped he looked calm as he walked down the endless corridor to the Dowager Empress’s apartments. Her Imperial Majesty did not have favourites among her grandchildren, except when she did, and everyone knew she saw a great deal of herself in Princess Isabella. Who was about to be married and …
The DNA of Stories 