​Following the advice to “write what you know,” ANISE EDEN authors psychological suspense and paranormal romance novels. Her qualifications include growing up in the countryside where rattlesnakes and cougars jumped out of nowhere; living with family members who are a little bit psychic; and having her life saved on more than one occasion by her SEAL Team of guardian angels.

After college, Anise soaked up life in NYC, Washington DC, and points in between. She tried her hand at grooming horses, scooping ice cream, and designing billboards before returning to school to become a psychotherapist. Though she left that field after many rewarding years, Anise remains a passionate mental health advocate.

Continuing her real-life adventures, Anise is now exploring life in Ireland with her husband and their small, benevolent canine dictator. While her books have won multiple awards, Anise’s propensity for dropping glass objects while barefoot makes it highly likely that her next win will be a Darwin Award.

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“Three days?” John “Hex” Robertson frowned at his boss, or at least at the video image of her on his computer. Field agents like him were assigned to cover large territories within their respective regions and tended to move around a lot. He was currently in a temporary office at a sheriff’s station in Bloxham County, Florida, while she was at division headquarters.

“Why weren’t we called in sooner?” he demanded, already envisioning the trail going cold. “Violent crimes involving supernaturals are supposed to be flagged.”

Part of the Department of Public Safety, the State Watchmen were at the top of the law enforcement pyramid. Within the Watchmen, the Occult Division had been specifically designed to handle cases with paranormal elements. Although agents mostly participated in mundane investigations—using their special skills to assist regular law-enforcement and garner goodwill—supernatural crimes were their raison d’etre. A paranormal homicide should have come to their attention immediately, not three days later.

Lieutenant Corina Adams didn’t appear any more pleased with the delay. “The Hopkins’ police are feeling hostile toward supernaturals right now. A fire mage severely burned one of their own during a routine traffic stop. They’re out for blood and confident they’ve identified the perp.”

“Who’s the suspect?”

“Sarah Walker, a lone shifter. The victim, Brian Johnson, was her boss at Trust’s Museum of Ancient Cultures. He was mauled in his office while Miss Walker was in the building. She found the body and called 911. The detectives didn’t buy her description of a masked man breaking into the museum. The security guards on duty didn’t see anything, and she didn’t have a mark on her, though she claims she confronted the intruder.”

He asked the obvious question. “Doesn’t the museum have security cameras?”

“Yes,” his lieutenant answered. “They inexplicably malfunctioned at the time of the murder.”

“You called her a lone shifter,” he said. “Sarah Walker isn’t part of a pack?”

“No, and she’s unregistered too. The detectives heading the investigation didn’t know she was a supernatural until they took DNA samples and fingerprints from all the museum employees. They ran a rapid test, and her sample revealed the markers for a shifter. Those traces were not present in her routine bloodwork six months earlier.”

Hex arched his eyebrow. “Breaking HIPAA laws now, are you?”

Lieutenant Adams gave him a sour look. “I’m using common sense. Her doctor would have notified the CDC of a possible metamorph infection had she shown signs at her last checkup.”

“Those signs are hard to detect,” he pointed out. “The fact that routine forensic swabbing picked it up suggests she changed form less than twenty-four hours before the sample was taken. Assuming her doctor didn’t overlook her condition, she’s newly turned. Any other unexplained attacks in her vicinity?”

He’d seen inexperienced shifters struggle to control their new instincts and abilities. Lost tempers could erupt in violence.

“None that I turned up.”

“We don’t have many shifters in this state,” he said. “Statistically she’s probably a werewolf. A small pack of red wolves broke away from North Carolina a few years ago, but they’re mostly inland. There are occasionally rogue wolves and coyote shifters. She could also be an ailuranthrope. Cat shifters tend to be more solitary.”

“Then the question is whether she’s a tabby or a panther.” Lieutenant Adams gave him a pointed look. “You’ve got more experience with shifters than any other field agent. Do your own investigation and see where it leads you. Like I said, the locals have a score to settle. Miss Walker has the misfortune of being the first paranormal to cross their path, and they’re pissed that she slipped away during questioning. When she didn’t immediately return to her condo, they assumed she’d skipped town.”

Now he was intrigued. “Did she?”

“No, she showed up for work today. Now the detectives look at that as returning to the scene of the crime. Read the file I sent you, watch the interview video, and get up to speed. You’ll meet our tech analyst, Zoe Martin, at the scene.”

Hex knew the technomancer. Zoe was literally a tech wizard who worked magic with electronics. Even if she couldn’t recover the museum’s security footage, she’d determine how it had been sabotaged.

“Watch your back,” his lieutenant ordered him.

Hex narrowed his eyes. “You learn something from your crystal ball?”

The question wasn’t flippant. His lieutenant was a talented diviner—a traditionalist who preferred to use the crystal ball passed down to her from her great-grandmother.

“I know there’s more to this case than a novice lycanthrope losing control,” she said. “The locals won’t be happy to have a spellcaster take over. Don’t expect a warm welcome.”

“I never do.” He ended the call and logged on to review the case file.

​Publishing Company: Other Worlds Ink
Cover Artist: Kelley York - Sleepy Fox Studios
 
Primary Plot Arc: Speculative Fiction
Main Genre(s): Fantasy, Science Fiction
Sub-Genres: romance
Story Type: Novel (>50k)
Word Count: 93,400
LGBTQ+ Identities (if applicable): Gay, Bisexual, Non-Binary, Lesbian
Keywords/Categories: fantasy, science fiction, sci-fantasy, dragons, sci-fi, new release, announcement, gay, lesbian, bisexual, non-binary, young adult, crossover, gay, bisexual, non-binary, lesbian, new release, announcement, giveaway

A sharp crack filled the wine cellar. Kerrick swung the heavy mallet back and then assailed the flopwood boards that blocked the tunnel entrance again. The ancient wood splintered under the blow, sending shards clattering across the stone-paved floor.

It felt good to work out his frustrations. Still, the stubborn wood held out against his assault.

He rested the mallet on the black-tiled stone floor, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Even after a hundred years, the barrier was strong. He’d tried to pry the boards out of the solid stone, but they’d been fastened in too tightly. Brute force it is.

“You’re doing great!” Cor’Lea’s voice was artificially bright, and she was as tall as he was, maybe a little taller, peering over his shoulder at the sealed tunnel entrance.

Silya had tasked her with bringing him down here to check out these hidden caverns under the Temple, in preparation for the coming war. Important, sure, but also clearly an excuse to get him out from underfoot while she prepared for her official Raising.

He grunted. “Thanks. These boards are hard as iron.” And hard as Silya’s will.

One day things would be different between them, once this crisis was over. I just have to be patient.

Coral laughed. “I’m sure a big, strong man like you can break through them easily.” She squeezed his bicep appreciatively.

He shrugged her off. He wasn’t sure if the gawky initiate was flirting with him or just trying to encourage him to get on with it, but either way, he wasn’t interested. “Stand back.” He hefted the hammer again, and she scurried out of his way.

He suppressed a smile, swinging the mallet around for another heavy blow.

Craack.

This time the board buckled inward visibly. Another few hits should do it.

He pulled back the heavy iron hammer again and hit the same spot with blow after blow. Craack. Craack. Craack.
The mallet broke through and a board fell away into splinters, clattering across the stone floor. One down, three more to go. “Why did they seal this cavern up?”

Cor’Lea gestured at the natural chamber. “There was a winery here before the Temple. Sister Dor said they used to use it for extra wine storage.” She looked around the natural chamber, which was now filled with wooden shelving holding a variety of bottled food stores. “When Jas ordered the Temple to be constructed, they kept this wide cavern and blocked off the rest of the tunnels.”

“Just in case the gully rats got in?” That thief Raven had apparently made his home in one of the underground tunnels. Who knew who else—or what else—lived down there?

Cor’Lea snorted. “Maybe.”

Are tunnels all connected, somehow? That was one of Silya’s most urgent projects, to map out the network of caverns beneath the city. Another reason she sent me down here—to get me out from under her robes.

A few more whacks at the next board served to both break it and let out his frustrations at the situation preventing him from doing his sworn job and keeping them apart. And at what she said was coming.

Craack. Craack. Craack.

The board snapped in half, and he judged that he’d cleared enough space to step through into the blocked-off tunnel. “Hand me that lantern?

Cor’Lea complied, taking the opportunity to brush his hand.

He rolled his eyes. I should be flattered. But his heart was already taken.

It was times like these he wished his brother Enrick were still alive. He’d know what to do. He’d been absurdly confident about everything, even though he’d been younger than Kerrick.

Kerrick wasn’t great with women.

He took the lantern and stepped over the bottom board, holding it in front of him. The bright light temporarily blinded him as he sought to get his bearings.

“What do you see?” Cor’Lea peered through the hole behind him.

His sight adjusted, and the tunnel’s walls came into focus.

He whistled. Stacked along the side of the tunnel were hundreds of crates, all strapped together in groups and sealed. “It’s… I don’t know what it is. But I’ll bet Silya will be surprised.” They’d have to find a place to put all this stuff—whatever it was, it was likely rotten after all this time. Silya needed somewhere to store people, not ancient goods.

Cor’Lea stepped carefully over the splintered boards to join him. “What do you think’s inside them?”
​
The long row of crates disappeared into the darkness. Who knew what the ancients had considered valuable enough to stash down here. Coin? Lost treasure? “One way to find out. Does the Temple have a crowbar?”

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