The Carus Series
Book 4: Shift Work
Badass Shifter Andy McNeilly is running on empty. The death of a prominent supernatural being has her reeling. The advent of a new street drug has the police knocking on her door for assistance. And a friend needs her unique skills to help investigate a messy murder.
In the interest of paying the bills, paying it forward, and keeping the Supernatural Regulatory Division off her back, Andy once again slips through the dark streets of Vancouver’s seedy underworld. In the process, she uncovers secrets that threaten to derail her love life and her investigation.
Can Andy capture a murderer, solve a mystery, and forgive her lover’s past? Or will the grime of the criminal world swallow her whole?
Exclusive Excerpt to SHIFT WORK, book 4 of the Carus Series:
Instead of sinking into nothingness though, I walked through a moonlit path in the middle of a forest, clothed in some long translucent nightgown probably dating back to the 1800s. Fog blanketed the ground and parted majestically as I walked. Warning bells chimed in my head instead of birds. The forest had no scent. No pine aroma laden with summer flowers. No crunching of branches or snapping of twigs as animals roamed through the dense, moss coated floor. No rustling leaves in the wind. My bare feet padded along the rough rock and grass path without a sound, and without any pinched nerves.
An artificial forest.
Only one person...thing...would muck around with my mind like this.
I rounded a large evergreen and the path opened up into a large clearing. A man stood in the middle. Naked skin glowed in the moon light.
"If this is how you seduce a girl, it's not working."
His lips twitched and thankfully only that.
I closed the distance between us and came to a stop three feet away. No need to get too close.
"Relax Carus, I have no wish to make you mine."
"No more than you already are..." Sid winked.
I clenched the cotton material in my fists and squeezed. Attacking Sid in this realm, one under his control, would not be a good idea, and wouldn't get me the answers I sought. Smashing my fist into his kidneys would feel pretty good though.
The FULL, unedited, uncut version of Andy's poem:
(My apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
How do I loathe him? Let me count the ways.
I loathe the very depth and breadth and height his soul delves into Hell when he takes flight from all that scares him, with little grace.
I loathe that he got his current work from his dear ol’ daddy, not self-worth.
I loathe him freely, without mirth.
I loathe him purely, to the point of going berserk.
I loathe him with a passion better put to use in solving crimes or escaping demons.
I loathe him with an intensity, I can’t seem to lose without my sanity.
I loathe him with every breath, smile, and tear, of my life!
And, if Feradea choose, I shall but loathe him slightly less after his death.