COMPLETED || “And what sort of god are you, little one?” Zeus asks. ...“You know the Old Law,” Ares tells him. “You’ve asked her to Name herself." Zeus waits, debating between the pleasure of denying his wayward son and satisfying his own curiosity. I see it the instant he decides. “Who are you?” he demands, and the power of the Sanctuary compels me. I can't stop it. “I am the god of Naming,” I hear myself say. “I Name the unknown and reveal it. I am the god of the things that do and do not pass, of the unchanging and the unbecoming, of the changing and the becoming; the god of new truths." “I am the first of the new gods, the herald of the End of Days.” ----- In the modern day, the old gods are mere shadows of their former selves. Prophecies have foretold the end of the old era since its beginning, but the Olympians have resisted for eons, postponing their obsolescence - and demise. But Fate will not be foiled. The Old World and the New have collided at long last, and humanity cowers as malevolent forces walk the earth once more. The gods continue to fade, struggling like winking stars in the void. When the new godhood begins to ascend at long last, will the old gods finally bow their heads? Or will they join forces with Chaos and remake the world anew in blood? Astraea is the First. She knows nothing except that she must survive in this harsh new world, mistrusted by all the old gods and hunted by enemies who seek her end. But why is it that she feels so drawn to the outcast in their midst - Ares, the god of war?
COMPLETED|| "Cockiness isn't a good look, Kodiak.” “Yeah, it’s Kodi, though. Not Kodiak. Thanks.” In the silence that followed, Bishop cocked his head and gave her a withering look. “And what in hell,” he drawled, his voice dripping with enough sarcasm to fill a cynic’s casket, “makes you think that I care?” Kodi raised her eyebrows. “You don’t have to care to be wrong.” “Is that so?” Bishop leaned forward and crossed his forearms over the table. “Kodiak?” The woman held his stare with a level gaze of her own. “You’re lucky I speak fluent asshole,” she said blithely. “I wouldn’t be able to understand you otherwise. Anyway, are we doing this or what?” Bishop leaned back in his chair, resisting the urge to clench his jaw until his teeth ground each other into dust. He couldn’t school her into submissive shape when she had enough attitude to level a city block, but he couldn’t chase her out with shouted expletives the way he could anyone else, either. Because he wanted her. Needed her. She was going to be his magnum opus, his greatest work. No matter what it took, he was going to mold this woman-shaped mass of raw, pure talent into his silver screen star. Because he was the goddamn Bishop, and he always got what he wanted. “Yeah," he replied through gritted teeth. "We’re fucking doing this. But let’s get this straight. We’re doing this my way.” Kodi gave him a pitying, skeptical look. “We’ll see about that.” ------ Bishop Cassius doesn't give a damn what you think. He owns Perfect Storm Studios, which means he owns Hollywood, which means he owns you. Everyone knows that, except Kodiak Clyde. So when breakout prodigy actress meets domineering genius director, who wins? Find out in THE SILVER SCREEN WARS.
COMPLETED | - He moved like a serpent. In one fluid, short motion, he grabbed her wrists and shoved her back down, pinning her hands as far above her head as they would reach... "I'll kill everyone in this house if you make so much as a sound." ------ Mages control the court, and magic is the law. The appearance of a rogue mage running rampant in the countryside outside the Capital's jurisdiction rankles the nerves of those in power. The rogue is using their power for mundane things with no authorization, and their alignment and motives are unclear. The mages of the court are furious: using magic to assist the undeserving cheapens its prestige. One way or another, someone needs to handle the problem. Constantine is contracted to capture this mage alive and bring them to the Capital. As an elite assassin, keeping his quarry alive is not one of his specialties, but there is no one else for the job: not only is he a Resistant, an anti-mage, someone whose mere presence can suppress magic - he also possesses the ability to track mages in much the way a bloodhound tracks its prey. Constantine has been paid an immense fortune to bring in the mark and ask no questions. Unfettered by matters of conscience, Constantine has agreed; now all he has to do is drag the rogue mage and deliver them to his employer. But she is nothing like he imagined, and he may yet learn that though he is immune to magic, she may capture him with a different kind of spell altogether.
COMPLETED || “Go home. This isn’t a playground.” “You're right. More like a school choir, the way I had you singing like a soprano. Are your ribs okay?” She grinned when the man pressed his forearm harder against her throat, pinning her to the wall. “Last warning.” “Yours, too.” ------ The strongest piece in chess is not the one on the board. Eden has known this ever since her first game. Not just that, but also to look before leaping and think before speaking, and to engineer each word, each move with care. Chess is a contest of enduring perfection: whoever stumbles first always loses. And of course, it’s never the pieces on the board, but the mind that buckles and fails. The night Eden comes home to a dozen police cruisers and the house cordoned off, she knows the game is over. They tell her there’s no way to find the ones responsible for the brutal murder of her family, that her mother the police commissioner had too many enemies in this crime-ridden city. Eden disagrees. Eden is punished. And by the time she comes back eight years later, she is ready to make every crime boss and dirty cop in the city regret bringing this fight. She won’t play fair, even if it means crawling to depths even deeper and more rotten than theirs. She’ll drag them down by their ankles with her if she has to. And the mercenary who keeps getting in her way over and over again - the strange, thrilling sparks that fly every time they butt heads - none of it matters, in the end. She’ll take him down with all the rest if she has to. Oh, they’ve taken everything from her. Now she makes them pay. “May I have this game?”
DAILY UPDATES - She's the preeminent divorce attorney in New York City, and has been for the last ten years ever since she passed the bar exam. She's intelligent, shrewd, and ruthless, the bane of scheming husbands everywhere. Her name is Julia Williams, nationwide role model for independent, single women, and she's coming for you. Except she's not, when suddenly, she's transported two thousand years back in time into the body of Julia the slave in Ancient Rome. Her mind remains intact, thankfully, and she uses her wits to survive this brutal system that puts her at the very bottom of society...until she's revealed to be the only daughter of Augustus, the first Roman Emperor. It's 28 BC in Ancient Rome, and a woman out of time could change the course of history...when all she wants is to go back home. But when the opportunity finally presents itself, can she bear to leave behind the man who's changed the course of her heart? * * * "Marry me." Julia snatches Agrippa’s collar with hands that have become cold and clumsy. She tightens her grip, but it's like she can feel him slipping away already... "Don't be ridiculous. It's impossible." And although he doesn't knock her hands away, she feels him pushing her over the brink with his harsh words and cold, dark gaze. Suddenly, she realizes it's not Agrippa the man before her that she looks upon, half-pleading and half-commanding. It's Agrippa the soldier, Agrippa the general. And there's no place in his heart for her to stand between him and his loyalty to the Emperor. “Fine," she says after a moment. "But make sure you remember what you said. I'll make you regret every word."
SEQUEL TO DRIVEN BY INSTINCT-RESUMES 10/1-DAILY UPDATES "Tell me the truth," Constantine demanded, his voice hard and jagged in her ear. When she stalled, he pulled her head back with a hand tangled in her tresses and mouthed her throat in a fierce kiss. "Tell me!" "I don't - want-" she whispered finally, and bit back a moan. "Don't bother. I know you're lying." ------- It's a hard life for a rogue mage, especially one who climbs into the hornet's nest that is the Capital. And it isn't much easier for the assassin who can't help but follow her in. Their relationship is as undefinable as ever, but Vica and Constantine together step into the arena that is the nation's epicenter of power. Here, there is no right or wrong, only the strong and the weak. Right of Magic is the Law. But for the first time, Vica believes her power is not a curse but an opportunity, a responsibility. If strength of magic is really the only law, then she is prepared to play their game - prepared to win. And from the apex, she vows, she will make things right. She will do it with passion, strike from the heart, and live by the instinct of her power. But Vica will soon discover a terrible truth that will make her waver, and the Capital will shake with her. Tenuous alliances and friendships will be tested, especially the indescribable connection between Vica and Constantine that neither can deny: things are not so simple when Constantine wants nothing less than the whole of her, but she is only willing to offer it conditionally. And yet with the Capital shaking, they will have to rely on each other in ways that may well prove their destinies have been linked all along...