Category: giveaway

Hunted by the Dragon Black Sky Dragons Book 1 by Addison Carmichael Genre: Paranormal Romance

A real fire-breathing Dragon? When the questionable cellphone photo of a flying black reptile is splashed over the internet, online news reporter Crystal Logan ventures to the small town of Winchester to find out just how real this alleged sighting is. If her suspicions prove accurate, this will be the discovery of a lifetime, and the answer to a heartbreaking nightmare that has plagued Cryss for over a decade. * * * In the Black Sky Mountains of Colorado, Sheriff Derek Reaves has worked hard to maintain his quiet rural life. Now thanks to a paranoid tourist who swears he spotted a fairytale monster, hundreds of crazy supernatural and alien seekers are flooding Winchester for their own encounter of the bizarrest kind. Unfortunately one beautiful news lady is a lot savvier, nosier and tenacious than all the others. If he’s not careful, Cryss Logan may very well uncover the dangerous secret Derek has hidden all these years, threatening not only his safe, peaceful life, but his very existence. Unless he can find a way to stop her first. Goodreads * Amazon

AMAZON Best Selling author ADDISON CARMICHAEL is a Paranormal Romance junkie. Love is a mystical, magical thing to her, and she loves writing and living vicariously through her endless PNR stories. Whether it be alpha male werewolves, fierce dragons, panthers and other shifters, sizzling hot vampires, or illusive sorcerers who will magically make your dreams come true, her imagination is bubbling up several stories after another. “I’m often asked why I write this genre,” Addison commented. “The truth is, I love creating unique and fantastical worlds where anything is possible. I’m in love with love and all its possibilities for both adventure and total bliss. This is my avenue to live in these worlds and become the adventurous heroine who falls madly in love with her compliment super hot, supernatural hero. Worlds I love to visit again and again.” As a literature major, Addison also enjoys weaving classic themes into her books, yet keeping the fun and folklore true to each story and character. While paying strict attention to the tropes of each myth, she also finds unique ways to create new ones in order to make each story as fresh, realistic and plausible as possible. Besides reading and writing (which are blissful addictions), Addison loves the mountains and ocean, and enjoys hiking, camping, horseback riding and star-gazing whenever she can manage it. But reading, writing and storytelling is and will always be the “true love” of her life. Addison Carmichael was born and raised in Southern California and has lived and traveled all over the west coast (and the world). She married the man of her dreams and has two awesome sons, two daughters-of-her-heart, and three grandchildren who are the jewels in her personal crown. She now lives happily-ever-after with her family (which includes Mollie, her black lab-border collie) in Snohomish, Washington of the U.S. Pacific Northwest. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Bookbub * Pinterest * Amazon * Goodreads

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Joey Gates of Heaven Book 4 by M. Tasia Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance RELEASING JANUARY 30 The next installment in the Gates of Heaven Series by M. Tasia. Preorder available NOW, click the links below. Secrets and lies, a family that lived in the darkest alleys of criminal life are what Joey brings to a relationship, which means the LAPD officer who has captured his heart is completely off limits. Goodreads * Boroughs Publishing

James Gates of Heaven Book 3 GOING IT ALONE Too many ghosts live inside James Masterson’s head, and they weren’t the company he sought. Actually, he prefers no one’s company, but he finds himself surrounded by overly friendly, meddlesome types while visiting his brother at The Gates in DTLA. Somehow, James becomes the unwelcome subject of Detective Richard Ross’s attention, and, before he knows how it happened, James is caught up in Ross’s family drama. When a madman tries to kill Ross’s sister and her daughter, James’s special ops Army training kicks in, and he becomes their hero, something he knows down to his core, he is not. The thing about crazy killers is they never give up, and when the final showdown comes to a head, James knows he’ll do anything to keep the family he has found, especially the love of a sexy detective. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords * Boroughs Publishing

Finn Gates of Heaven Book 2 Finn knew the life he’d found at The Gates was a dream his past would ruin, so when everyone he cares about is threatened, he returns to the streets to keep them safe, especially the man he loves. HEART MURMUR Fleeing from his existence as an outcast child in a fanatic cult, Finn Masterson makes his way to Los Angeles, only to find an unforgiving city with little prospects for a teenager with few life skills. After years of living on the streets in DTLA, doing anything and everything required to survive, Finn finds a home, a job, and kindness with Saint Jeffrey, who is renovating a grand old building mere blocks from Skid Row. Finn knows better than to trust a good thing, so when harassing texts and calls culminate in threats to the people he has come to care about—especially a former Marine, Miguel Fernandez—Finn returns to the streets to keep those he loves safe. But one single- minded, stubborn warrior brings Finn back into the fold, and they defeat his last remaining enemy giving them the freedom to pursue their forever. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords * Boroughs Publishing

Saint Gates of Heaven Book 1 MOUTH TO MOUTH RESUSCITATION After the death of their mother, Frank “Saint” Jeffrey knew the only way to protect his younger brother was to strike a deal with their autocratic, cruel, abusive father. In exchange for his brother’s freedom to live his life as he wished, Saint promised to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a preeminent surgeon in his father’s medical practice. When events he never could have predicted took away Saint’s ability to perform surgery, the bargain became null and void. With no safety net, and a life without purpose, Saint moved across the country, bought a wreck of a building in DTLA, and hoped while resurrecting the property he’d find a reason to live again. Then Max Connor entered his life and Saint was dragged from the darkness of desolation into the light of love. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords * Boroughs Publishing

M. Tasia, is an author who lives in Ontario, Canada. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of America and its chapter, the Toronto Romance Writers. Michelle is a dedicated people watcher, lover of romance novels, 80’s rock, and happy endings, who grew up with a love of reading. Mother of three wonderful children, wife to one understanding husband and servant to two spoiled furry children who don’t seem to realize that they’re actually cats. Michelle writes both contemporary and paranormal romance and believes love should be celebrated. After all, we deserve to have romance, excitement, intrigue and passion in our lives. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads * Newsletter

The amber liquid burned his throat as he swallowed, exactly the way he liked it. James scanned
the crowd, as he’d done dozens of times since he’d arrived. The bar was busy with groups
celebrating whatever the latest occasion was, or singles looking to hook up, trolling the crowds
hoping to find a happy diversion.
James didn’t fit into either category. He wanted to be left alone to drink in peace and watch
storylines play out, in front of him from his corner booth. The intentional deep-set scowl
should’ve been enough to keep people away, but there were those men and women who took it
as a challenge. Get the big grumpy guy to smile, one point. Laugh, two points. And so on.
James sat in his booth, ignoring the latest make-him-happy applicant until they finally gave
up and left. Why was it so hard for people to understand he didn’t want to be social, didn’t want
sex, and he sure the hell wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.
Peace. That was what he wanted most of all. Which sort of begged the question, what the hell
was he doing in the middle of a noisy bar?
He picked up his glass, drained the remainder of his whiskey, and motioned at the server for
another. It had been a month since he’d found his brother, Finn, at the receiving end of a gun
their papa was pointing at him and his lover. James had given their crazy bastard father a
chance
to stand down, but the asshole was beyond reasoning. He was forced to kill his father in the
middle of the woods, on a dark and moonless night.
As if that wasn’t enough to get him into the Guilt Olympics, his continued nightmares of
what he’d seen through four tours of deployment played like a movie through his mind the
moment his lids dropped. It wasn’t enough that he’d been left with a few bullet holes for his
service, but now it appeared that PTSD had moved in. James wasn’t a roommate kind of guy.
“Here you go.” Peggy dropped off his double shot of whiskey. “How you feeling tonight?”
Peggy, one of the owners of Crandall’s Pub, had taken one look at James and decided he was
her latest project. The only reason he hadn’t left and found a new watering hole was that the
older woman had a huge heart and she got that twinkle in her eye every time she was cooking
something up that had nothing to do with a kitchen. Tonight was no different. She patiently
waited for him to reply.
“I’m okay.”
“Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Not in years. The enemy always waits for a moment of weakness.”
“But you’re not in the Army anymore. You need to find a way to deal with it and move on.
Have you thought about seeing a therapist?”
Of course it had crossed his mind, but something was holding him back. “I have, and I’m still
thinking on it.”
Peggy reached out to cover James’s much larger hand. “Okay, honey. But if you need
anything, me and Henry are always here to help.”
“Thank you.” He hoped that’d end the conversation.
He didn’t need to bring any more innocent people into his messed-up world.
She sighed as if she could tell what he was thinking, but accepted his reply with a nod before
turning away to take someone else’s order.
James wrapped his hand around the glass to steady himself. He was already on his fourth
drink and had no plans on stopping anytime soon. The building where he was staying was only
three blocks away. He could stumble that far.
The bell over the front door of the pub rang, causing James look up. He groaned loud and
long, not caring if the new arrival heard him or not. Once that crystal blue gaze landed on him,
James knew he was screwed.
Why wouldn’t this guy take the hint and leave him alone? Was he a glutton for punishment
or plain stupid-stubborn? James didn’t know, but the bastard was headed in this direction with
the same damn smile plastered on his puss he always wore. Shit.
His long legs ate up the distance, and without so much as a May I?, he slid into the booth
beside James.
“Hey, good looking, you come here often?”
James almost smiled. Almost. Peggy dropped off a black coffee and continued on her way
with a knowing look.

“You can stuff that line up your ass, Ross. I’m not in the mood for your shit.”
“Is that any way to talk to your ride home?”
“I’ll walk the three damn blocks, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind. It’s close to two in the morning and Finn has been trying to reach you for hours.
Any particular reason you’re not answering your phone?”
“Ah, yeah. I want to be left alone.”
“Keep this up and you’re going to get your wish.”
“Go to hell, Ross.”
“Already have an express pass. Now finish up your drink so I can get your drunk ass home
before your brother calls in the National Guard.”
“How does he even know I’m not at the building? It’s not like he lives there anymore.”
“He and Miguel came over to watch the game with Saint, Max, and you, if your ass had been
at home.”
“That’s not my home.”
“Touchy, and don’t care. Let’s go.” Ross swallowed the last of his coffee and stood, waiting
for James to join him.
“Whatcha gonna do, arrest me?” James laughed without humor.
Ross reached behind his back and pulled out his handcuffs. “If I have to.”
Shit.
James didn’t know if he was pissed off or turned on.

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Between Wild and Ruin by Jennifer G. Edelson Genre: YA Paranormal Romance

Truth, like love, isn’t always obvious. Seventeen-year-old Ruby Brooks has never had a boyfriend. After moving to small-town La Luna, New Mexico following her mother’s untimely death, boys aren’t even on her radar. Ruby just wants to forget the last horrible year and blend in. But when she discovers an ancient pueblo ruin in the forest behind her house, and meets Ezra, a bitter recluse whose once-perfect face was destroyed in an accident he won’t talk about; Angel, La Luna’s handsome sheriff’s deputy, and Leo, a stranger who only appears near the ruin, Ruby finds herself teetering between love, mystery, and other worlds. What happened to Ezra’s face? And why is she so attracted to the one boy in town everyone despises? As Ruby unravels her own connections to both Ezra and the pueblo ruin, she’ll learn surfaces are deceiving. Especially in the heart of New Mexico, where spirits and legends aren’t always just campfire stories. Set against a Northern New Mexico backdrop, Between Wild and Ruin is a young adult coming of age story that captures the wild and whimsical pulse of New Mexico through the eyes of teens Ruby Brooks, Angel Ruiz, and Ezra Lucero. The first book in the Wild and Ruin series, Between Wild and Ruin explores the time-tested credo ‘never judge a book by its cover’ through a paranormal lens, weaving Puebloan and Hispanic folklore and Southwest cultural narratives into tightly written, high-concept fiction ‘brimming with mystery, intrigue,’ and as Kirkus Reviews puts it, an “intriguing historical drama and an over-the top quadrangle romance.” Add to GoodreadsAmazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo

Jennifer G. Edelson is a writer, trained artist, former attorney, pizza lover, and hard-core Bollywood fan. She has a BFA in Sculpture and a J.D. in law and has taught both creative writing and legal research and writing at several fine institutions, including the University of Minnesota. Originally a California native, she currently resides in Santa Fe, New Mexico with her husband, kids, and dog, Hubble after surviving twenty-plus years in the Minnesota tundra (but still considers Los Angeles, the Twin Cities, and Santa Fe all home). Other than writing, Jennifer loves hiking, traveling, Albert Camus, Dr. Seuss, dark chocolate, drinking copious amounts of coffee, exploring mysterious places, and meeting new people—if you’re human (or otherwise), odds are she’ll probably love you. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

After walking through dense stands of pine trees, I follow the remnants of what may have been a
trail toward the top of the mountain. Higher up, the pines and junipers dappling the mountainside grow
taller, but there aren’t as many. As they thin, small gusts of wind whistle through the forest, echoing
through the trees. Otherwise, the forest is completely silent.
Closer to the top of the mountain, the rocky ground levels off and the land spreads across a plateau
below the mountain’s peak. Unlike the forest, the plateau is more like a jungle, marked by thick hanging
moss and clusters of tall, unidentifiable conifers. Trees stand like sentries several rows deep. Beyond
them, fallen logs lie scattered among overgrown shrubs and boulders in circular bands like rings on a tree.
I walk through it all, making my way past thick brush into a clearing.
Fresh sap and damp earth assault my nose. Under bright sunlight, large, rough-cut slabs of glittery
rock blanket the otherwise bare field. Some lie stacked on top of each other like the crumbling remains of
a building. Awestruck, I circle the structure, running my fingers over what looks like a ruin.
“Incredible, isn’t it?”
A voice behind me sends my heart racing toward my throat. I jump, whipping around to find a
young man leaning casually against a pine near the clearing’s perimeter, looking off to his left as though
listening for something.
Even in the shade, his face glows. He smiles, showing off teeth that gleam like snowflakes
between perfect lips. Hair as dark as Liddy’s French roast coffee falls around his face in unruly waves.
His features are angular but refined, and his high, rounded cheeks soften the striking juxtaposition.
I blink, then blink again. Ruby. I rub my eyes. You’re hallucinating. But he’s still there, staring at
me.
While I gawk, he pushes himself off the tree. “Not many people make it up here.” He smiles
broadly.
A soft, purple-hued halo circles his golden irises, catching fire in the sunlight. They settle on me,
and my heart stops, completely paralyzed by his faultless storybook features.
I exhale, trying to swallow inconspicuously. “It’s definitely a hike.”
“Who are you?”
“Who am I?” I sputter. “Who are you?”
“Leo.” He grins.
“I’m Ruby.”
“Ruby.” My name rolls off his tongue with a smooth “R” and a musical lilt. Somehow, he even
manages to make it sound appealing. “First time up?”
“Yes. We just moved to La Luna.”
“La Luna,” he repeats. “Welcome.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. Earth to Ruby, I mentally smack myself. Since when has any boy made you
senseless?
“You okay?” He smiles like he knows I’m not. Like he knows why I’m not. “Do you want to sit
down? The altitude can be a bitch if you’re not used to it.”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m fine. No, I don’t want to sit down. You just really startled me. You should
announce yourself next time.”
“Next time?”
“Next time you sneak up on somebody.”
Leo raises a perfect dark eyebrow. “But then it wouldn’t be sneaking, would it?”
My cheeks flush, and I suddenly want to drop through a hole in the ground. I choke out,
“Ummm,” and something incoherent and then stare at my toes like they hold the keys to my future.

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A Case for the Winemaker Ainsley McGregor Book 1 by Candace Havens Genre: Cozy Mystery

The closer she gets to the truth, the more she finds herself drowning in trouble. It’s an exciting time in Sweet River, Texas, and the whole town’s talking. Maybe, a little too much. Former English professor Ainsley McGregor has gambled everything on her new business: Bless Your Art, an artisan market where local artists sell their wares and teach classes. The bright, white space is filled to the brim with colorful art, yarn, jewelry, pet treats, antiques and even a few medieval weapons. Oh, and there are wine tastings. Everything’s better with wine. Ainsley is surprised by how well things are going–right up until the moment her Great Dane finds a dead body. With her friend accused of the murder, it’s up to Ainsley to find the real killer. As the suspect list grows longer, Ainsley has her work cut out for her. The task is made more difficult by the fact her brother, the sheriff, doesn’t seem to want her help. If she doesn’t wrap up the case soon, she might be the next wine, um, one to die. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * B&N * Kobo * Website

A Case for the Yarn Maker Ainsley McGregor Book 2

Spin a yarn…at your own risk. Everyone at Bless Your Art in Sweet River, Texas, is excited about the Yarn Goddess (yes, that’s her real name) coming to town. Ainsley McGregor has set up a special event at the local community center, but when old Mrs. Whedon doesn’t see eye-to-eye with the Goddess about using quality yarn, a fight breaks out. Who knew the octogenarian had ninja moves like that? It’s all fun and games until George Clooney, Ainsley’s Great Dane, finds Ms. Yarn’s dead body in a booth at Bless Your Art. Now the prime suspect is Mrs. Whedon, and while she’s not the easiest woman to get along with, there’s no way she’s the killer. At least, Ainsley doesn’t think so. As this yarn unravels, Ainsley and her quirky friends learn some interesting things about the case and the Goddess’s checkered past. But there’s a killer on the loose. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * B&N * Kobo

Bestselling author Candace Havens has published more than 25 books. Her novels have received nominations for the RITA’s, Holt Medallion, Write Touch Reader Awards and National Readers Choice Awards. She is a Barbara Wilson Award winner. She is the author of the biography “Joss Whedon: The Genius Behind Buffy” and a contributor to several anthologies. She is also one of the nation’s leading entertainment journalists and has interviewed countless celebrities from George Clooney to Chris Pratt. Candace also runs a free online writing workshop for more than 2000 writers, and teaches comprehensive writing classes. She does film reviews with Hawkeye in the Morning on 96.3 KSCS, and is a former President of the Television Critics Association. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

He told me not to say anything to anyone until he came back for me. The cup rattled as my
hands shook again. A bone-chilling cold that no amount of heat would warm had settled in me.
But I was alert and focused on everything going on around me. No way was I going to be the
victim of another crime and leave justice and investigation to those not involved.
Plus, I’d worked too hard on the grand opening of Bless Your Art and I refused to let everyone
down. I needed to figure out exactly what was going on.
The man Michael had been arguing with earlier in the day was dead in the park, part of his head
bashed in, and his eyes staring straight ahead.
That image would be burned into my brain for the rest of my life.
No one deserved to go like that. Not even this guy with his jerky attitude and bullying tactics.
“Can I get you anything else?” Maria asked. She’d been down the street at the grocery with her
daughter Samantha when they’d seen all the flashing lights. “Tell me what I can do.”
I shook my head. There was a dead body. I wouldn’t get in the way of my brother’s
investigation by gossiping about what I’d seen. Besides, talking wasn’t something I could even
do at the moment.
My mind whirled with questions. Who else did that guy make so mad they wanted to kill him?
Was it random? Was there some crazy in town who could possibly endanger all the people I’d
come to love over the last year? I couldn’t stand the thought of all my friends in mortal danger.
“Girl, I can’t believe this happened. The last murder was nearly forty years ago,” Maria said.
“Mom,” Samantha murmured, “I’m worried about Ms. McGregor. She’s just staring straight
ahead, and she hasn’t blinked in a really long time.” Samantha was a freshman at the high
school, a book nerd and as kindhearted as her mother.
“She’s in shock,” Maria said from beside me. “Maybe we should call a doctor or take her to the
hospital.”
Ugh. Hospitals were awful places, at least for me. The last time I’d been in one was Chicago. I’d
woken up there alone and scared after the mugger had hit me so hard with his gun, I had a
concussion.
I shook my head. I needed to at least appear normal. I forced myself to blink.
George, who had been leaning into me while I sat in the chair, put his head in my lap and
sighed—a deep, comforting sound out of his big barrel chest.
“Good dog,” I said with a shaky voice. I cleared my throat. “I’m fine. I—my brother asked me
not to say anything until he has a chance to talk to me.”

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Dungeon Corps Crypts of Phanos by Jaxon Reed Genre: Epic Fantasy

Deep under the city of Phanos, the crypts are filled with monsters. Dungeon Corps works hard to contain them. Recruited from prisons, outcasts, misfits, those expelled from academies and even rare volunteers, Dungeon Corps produces outstanding fighters. When an ancient threat troubles the Queen’s Land once more, a grizzled veteran leads his young team down into the depths to rescue the lost and slay a horror known as Ludge. But two on his team hold closer ties to the monster than anyone realizes. They are elves, running from assassins tracking them relentlessly since birth. Ludge should have died 50 years ago. Now it’s up to the team to finish the job. In doing so, they uncover startling secrets known only to a chosen few. They discover the elves’ forbidden existence and their raw untapped power can reshape the world. If they survive. **only .99 cents!!**Goodreads * Amazon

Jaxon Reed is a science fiction and fantasy author. Amazon’s Kindle Press selected his book, The Empathic Detective: A Mystery Thriller, for publication through Kindle Scout. Recently, Ghostsuit: An Empathic Detective Novel also won a contract through Kindle Scout. Other recent books include Thieves and Wizards, an epic fantasy, and The Redwood Trilogy Box Set, a science fiction bundle. Jaxon is an Aggie, living in Texas on a ranch with his wife and boys, several cats, and one pound dog. To receive the latest updates on new releases and opportunities for free reader exclusives, please visit www.jaxonreed.com/free/Website * Facebook * Twitter * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

“Careful. Watch your step.”
Missan waved her hand gently in front of her group and ghostly runes floated in the air, suddenly visible.
They formed a pattern in the narrowest part of the hall facing them, obstacle wraiths promising death for
those touching them.
Missan carefully walked between the runes, making certain her dark purple robe and hood did not touch
any.
She turned when she made it to the other side, and waited for her team. Jeffers the ranger came next,
easily walking between the traps. He was followed by Deena, their archer and cleric.
Dratchet the half-dwarf was clumsiest, for all his abilities with a battle-axe. Everyone held their breath
while he worked his way laboriously through the traps.
Finally Choster walked through, after giving a final look back at the passage they had just passed.
Choster was a vampire, and a swordmaster. Many Dungeon Corps groups shunned his kind, but Missan
and the others accepted him. He had saved them more than once with his unique set of skills
Choster jumped into high speed and blurred through the traps in the blink of an eye.
Missan said, “Someday I need you to teach me how to do that, Choster.”
He smiled at her, fangs showing between his pale red lips.
He said, “You know my price.”
She shuddered involuntarily, then turned to lead the way forward as the passageway grew wider.
Deena sidled up next to her and confided in a low voice.
“He doesn’t take much blood. He just likes a sip to see what you taste like.”
Missan shuddered again. She said, “Was it worth it for what he taught you?”
The other woman nodded firmly.
“Yes. It’s a different kind of invisibility. It’s like . . . becoming a shadow. You merge into the surrounding
darkness. And it’s undetectable by other mages who are on the lookout for Invisibility.”
Missan grunted in acknowledgment. The Shadow spell did sound interesting, and useful. But she really
wanted Choster’s quickness spell. What did he call it? Enhanced Motion? Whatever it was, he had
assured her she had the capability to learn it. All he asked in return was a taste of her blood. So far, her
revulsion had kept her from acquiescing to his deal. But when he showed it off in front of her, it seemed
so useful. She had to admit, she was tempted.
They came to set of large double doors. They were at least 12 feet tall and half again as wide. Two large
brass rings nestled together in the center.
Missan and Choster exchanged glances. He raised a dark eyebrow at her, questioning.
She said, “Wait. Let me see if I can sense anything, first.”
Dratchet moved to her right and pulled his axe from the sling on his back. He bent his knees, crouching

into a fighting position.
Choster moved to her left and held his palms out, preparing a defensive spell. Jeffers pulled out his
enchanted sword, activating a group shield, while Deena stayed in the back, preparing a healing spell for
all of them.
The simple act of “looking” into a room could trigger a variety of traps, alert monsters or let enemies
know of their presence.
But Missan’s group had fought together for years with the Dungeon Corps. Choster was the newest
member, and he had been with them several months. The team moved smoothly, anticipating one
another’s actions.
Missan held her hands out and cast the spell while the others tensed. If whatever was behind the door
could detect the spell, it might well burst through and attack.
Missan said, “I sense . . . a large room, 1000 feet square. Tall ceiling, 30 feet high. Several corridors
branching off in other directions. And in the center of the room . . . a little boy?”
Deena frowned behind her, her protection spell forgotten.
She said, “A little boy? Are you sure?”
Missan nodded, concentrating. She said, “He seems . . . he seems to be waiting for us. He’s looking right
at the door.”
“What in the world is a little boy doing down here?” Jeffers said, turning his scarred face toward her. “Is
he human? Elven?”
“He’s human. I don’t know what he’s doing here. It doesn’t make sense. This is a newly discovered
dungeon, there shouldn’t be anybody here, much less children.”
“He’s a gheist,” Dratchet said, confidently. He set the huge axe on the floor head first, holding the
handle’s end lightly.
Missan shook her head. “I don’t sense a spirit. This is a boy. In the flesh.”
Choster said, “I’ll go take a look.”
Before anyone could object he turned into black mist and quickly flowed to the floor, then under the
doors.
The other four looked at one another. Dratchet picked up his axe again and the spell casters resumed
preparing to cast.
The doors opened suddenly, screeching on unoiled hinges, making them jump. Choster smiled at them,
flashing his fangs.
“Come on in. It’s safe, I think.”
They approached the door with trepidation. Inside, in the center of the large room, a young boy of perhaps
ten or eleven years of age stared at them. He wore bronze chainmail that had been made for dwarves, and
carried a shield painted green with a white boss in the middle. At his side he carried a steel short sword.
The Dungeon Corps team looked at him in astonishment.
Jeffers said, “I did not expect him to be armed.”
“Who are you?” Deena said.

Missan said, “What are you doing here?”
The little boy addressed them, showing not an ounce of fear or concern.
He said, “I’m looking for the Prince. Have you seen him?”
Missan and Deena looked at one another in confusion.
Missan said, “This is not one of Prince Synthan’s Children Soldiers . . . is it?”
“Can’t be,” Deena said. “That was fifty years ago.”
“He’s a gheist,” Dratchet said.
Deena glared at him and said, “Will you quit saying that?”
“Please,” the little boy said. “If you’ll tell me where the Prince is, I need to find my way back to him. I’m
. . . I’m lost down here.”
Missan said, “Are you looking for . . . Prince Synthan?”
He nodded, his eyes lighting up.
“Yes! Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”
Everyone on the team looked troubled now, even Choster.
Jeffers said, “Could it be a sleep spell of some kind? Kept the lad dormant down here all these years?”
Missan said, “We’re not even near Melody. It’s 30 miles from here!”
Choster said, “There’s a vast network of tunnels and caves underneath the sunken city of Melody. I’ve
heard about it. Several teams have tried exploring parts of it. No one has ever been through it all. They
say deep below, an underground river flows. It’s entirely possible this dungeon is connected with Melody
Hall.”
“That would certainly explain why he’s lost,” Deena said. “But it doesn’t account for the fact that the
Children Soldiers went down into Melody Hall with the Prince five decades ago.”
Dratchet spat to one side and said, “Still say he’s a gheist.”
“Will you shut up?”
Jeffers interrupted the brewing row between Deena and Dratchet. He said, “Somebody needs to tell him,”
nodding toward the boy who remained in the middle of the room, watching them.
Missan sighed and said, “I’ll do it.”
She walked slowly toward the room’s middle, drawing nearer to the boy. He stared at her now, giving her
his full attention. She stopped a few paces away.
“Hi. Uh, yeah. So, Prince Synthan is dead. He, uh . . . he died a long time ago.”
The boy’s mouth dropped open in shock. Then his eyes narrowed to slits.
“You’re lying.”
“No. No, I’m not. It happened a long, long time ago. Prince Synthan was killed in Melody and—”

“No!”
The boy’s voice changed, growing deeper and echoing throughout the chamber. His body changed, too,
swelling larger. White, aethereal arms sprouted out of the body, along with a monstrous head.
Dratchet yelled, “I believe I’m owed an apology!”
Deena said, “Shut up, Dratchet! Everyone, ready!”
“I’ve never seen a gheist like this, though,” Choster said.
The thing attacked. Its white ghostly arms swept toward Dratchet, his axe swinging and connecting with .
. . nothing. But when the long pale arms reached Dratchet’s flesh, his spirit ripped out of his body.
Deena saw the half-dwarf’s spirit struggling to pull up, then something sucked it down to the floor. She
watched in horror as his ghostly hands slipped below the surface.
She lit up her protective dome and ducked as one of the huge white arms swung through the spell,
disintegrating it. Deena jumped out of the way and nocked an arrow, loosed, then nocked and loosed
another one. The arrows sailed through the aethereal form.
She took careful aim with her third arrow and loosed it at the boy’s face. It poofed into dust before hitting
him.
Missan fired Lightning at the boy, then Fireball and Radiance. Nothing happened. The aethereal figure
surrounding the child seemed to soak in all the spells.
Jeffers ran forward with his enchanted sword and swung at one of the large arms. His sword whiffed
through air. The arm came back and slapped him in the chest, sucking out his spirit. His lifeless body fell
to the ground.
“Choster! Nothing is working!”
Choster heard Missan, but he was too busy flitting around the child and the aethereal form, trying to score
a hit. One of the ghostly armed slapped into him, and Choster popped away like a bubble.
Missan backed up, lobbing spell after spell into the monster. Nothing she could think to sling at him had
any effect. Deena cast a protective dome around them again, but the huge arms poked through it. She cast
a healing spell on Missan, even though the woman did not need one . . . yet.
Missan said, “Go.”
“What? I can’t leave you! At least come with me. We can run for it!”
They retreated to the huge double doors. The little boy in chain mail advanced on them, his face snarling
in hate. The giant ghostly body loomed out of him, long white arms swinging toward the women.
“He’ll chase us. You go. I’ll give you some time.”
Missan flung more spells at the creature. Deena opened her mouth to protest and watched as the spells
were simply absorbed by . . . whatever that was.
She turned and fled through the doors. At the chokepoint she felt very grateful that Missan’s spells still
displayed the hidden runes floating in the air. She quickly but carefully weaved her way through them.
Behind her she heard Missan scream . . . then silence.
Deena stopped to catch her breath. She looked behind her and heard the boy moving out of the doors and
into the corridor.

She turned to run, then stopped to cast a message spell.
“Dungeon Corps, this is Deena Marceaux with Sergeant Missan’s team. We have found one of the
Children, but he’s a monster! He—”
She looked behind her and . . . there he stood. A little boy looking up at her.
He said, “Boo.”
The ghostly form sprang from the child, huge arms reaching toward her like scythes. It sucked her spirit
out of her body.

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