By Faith Hunter
Jane Yellowrock is a shapeshifting skinwalker you don’t are looking to cross—especially if you’re one of many undead…
For a vampire killer like Jane, having Leo Pellisier as a chairman took a few being used to. yet now, anyone is out to take his position as grasp Vampire of the town of recent Orleans, and isn't afraid to move via Jane to do it. After an assault that’s tantamount to a warfare assertion, Leo understands his rival is either strong and cruel, yet Leo’s now not approximately to run scared. in the end, he has Jane. yet then, a pandemic moves, one who takes down vampires and makes their masters effortless prey.
Read or Download Death's Rival (Jane Yellowrock, Book 5) PDF
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Company has been gradual. ok, enterprise has been useless. and never even of the undead kind. you'll imagine Chicago might have a bit extra motion for the single expert wizard within the telephone book. yet in recent years, Harry Dresden hasn't been in a position to dredge up any type of paintings - magical or mundane. yet simply whilst it feels like he can't come up with the money for his subsequent meal, a homicide comes alongside that calls for his specific model of supernatural services.
Paranormal inner most eye. Grim reaper extraordinaire. no matter what. Charley Davidson is again! And she's ingesting copious quantities of caffeine to stick conscious simply because, at any time when she closes her eyes, she sees him: Reyes Farrow, the part-human, part-supermodel son of devil. convinced, she did imprison him for all eternity, yet come on.
Chloe King was once a typical sixteen-year-old woman.
She did her homework and acquired strong grades, yet she wasn't afraid to ditch category occasionally to hang around together with her top neighbors. She slept at domestic, yet another way kept away from all human touch along with her mother. the standard stuff.
Then she fell from San Francisco's maximum tower, and her lifestyles replaced. For starters, she died. after which, she awakened.
Now Chloe's lifestyles is whatever yet common: without notice men are prowling round her, she's transforming into claws, and someone's attempting to kill her.
fortunately for Chloe, she nonetheless has 8 lives to head.
Ethan Kaille isn’t the likeliest hero. A former sailor with a afflicted earlier, Ethan is a thieftaker, utilizing conjuring talents to seek down those that scouse borrow from the great electorate of Boston. And whereas chasing down miscreants in 1768 makes his existence a dangerous one, the simmering political tensions among loyalists like himself and rabble-rousing revolutionaries like Samuel Adams and others of his ilk are maybe even extra harmful to his healthiness.
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Additional info for Death's Rival (Jane Yellowrock, Book 5)
Golden oblongs of sunshine lay heavy on a black and white tiled ﬂoor. The ﬂoor and kitchen were old, but the appliances were new. One of those deluxe refrigerators with an ice maker and water dispenser took up a hunk of the back wall. All the appliances were done in a pale yellow: Harvest Gold, Autumn Bronze. Sitting at the kitchen table was a woman in her early sixties. Her thin brown face was seamed with a lot of smile lines. Pure white hair was done in a bun at the nape of her neck. She sat very straight in her chair, thin-boned hands folded on the tabletop.
Sometimes it’s goat blood, but more often chicken. I had compromised on the outﬁt, caught between showing respect and not melting in the heat. It would have been easy if I hadn’t planned 32 LAURELL K. HAMILTON to carry a gun with me. Call me paranoid, but I don’t leave home without it. The acid washed jeans, jogging socks, and Nikes were easy. An Uncle Mike’s inter-pants holster complete with a Firestar 9mm completed the outﬁt. The Firestar was my backup piece to the Browning Hi-Power. The Browning was far too bulky to put down an inter-pants holster, but the Firestar ﬁt nicely.
A lot of hate in old Tony. It never occurred to him to pat me down for weapons. Tsk-tsk. A second man came to the screen door. He was in his late forties, maybe. He was wearing a white undershirt with a plaid shirt unbuttoned over it. The sleeves were folded back as far as they’d go. Sweat stood out on his forehead. I was betting there was a gun at the small of his back. His black hair had a pure white streak just over the forehead. ” His voice was thick and held an accent. ” The older man nodded.