Genre: Urban Fantasy
Published April 8th 2015 by Create Space
Length: 368 pages
I know of the Storyteller, it whispers into the man’s ear, I’ve met him. If you promise not to kill me, I’ll take you to him.
Alix Andre DeBenit and Randall Fagan are Hunters, part of a hidden network of humans who track and kill the monsters lurking in our world so everyone else can pretend they don’t exist. But when a living shadow mentions someone called the Storyteller, Alix hesitantly decides to learn more.
They say the Storyteller lives in a massive library full of books that tell every being’s life story. He can read
these books, rewrite them and change anything he wants, even if
it’s already happened. That’s the power Alix wants, the power to bring his murdered family back and he’s determined to make the Storyteller do it.
He just has to decide if working with the very creatures he’s supposed to kill is worth it.
Purchase Link: http://www.amazon.com/Seeking-Storyteller-Hunters-Volume-1/dp/1508901147
Later that night, away from the now abandoned house and back toward civilization, stares and murmurs followed a beautiful woman as she crossed the floor in a local bar. To be fair, beautiful wasn’t enough to describe her, but it was a word that the drunk men and scattered college students in the bar could comprehend.
The bar was on the other side of the suspension bridge that led into the downtown area, not suffering from explosions of loud music and too many people grinding against one another. This bar wasn’t themed, didn’t get attacked by the city’s radio stations, or offer cheaper prices for single ladies on certain nights of the week. Instead, it was quiet and relatively low key, perfect for her to get away from work for a night. Here she could sit by herself at the bar and relax, not thinking about whatever mission her boss and his partner were on or what danger they might encounter.
As she made her way over to her normal seat all eyes were locked on her. She had long, slender legs of ebony skin that ended in a pair of stylish heels the color of fresh grown lilacs. She wore a dark business jacket that matched her short skirt and a button down shirt that complimented her heels. What really made the outfit stand out was the black men’s necktie that was tied around her neck and gently falling against her chest. It couldn’t be helped; the men’s eyes immediately started to undress her, imagining the stunning woman lying across a bed with her short, stylish haircut becoming wrinkled and disorganized after a night of breathless sex.
A hard glare in their direction made the message clear, interrupting the pleasant scenarios they had worked so hard to create. She wasn’t interested in any of it, so their eyes had no other choice but to turn back to their games of darts, pool, and touchscreens, drinking their fantasies away with bottles of beer.
The bartender, a young woman with more tattoos than hair, flashed her a welcoming smile as she wiped a glass clean. “What can I get you?”
The woman blinked. She didn’t recognize this woman as one of the regulars who worked at the bar, she definitely would’ve noticed the glorious amount of ink over her skin had she seen her before. Perhaps the stubborn, heavyset owner had finally hired some extra help.
“She’ll have sparkling water. She doesn’t drink.” A second woman sat down at the bar, a complete contrast to the first. Her thin, blonde hair was starting to show hints of premature gray, further accenting the severe angles of her face. She wore a comfortable pair of jeans and a shirt that was stylish, or had been more than a couple of years ago when the logo was still fresh and new. A bag at her shoulder held a notepad that never left her side and a hidden tape recorder at the ready. “Good evening, Katalynne.”
“Liza.” The name left the dark beauty’s lips with more than a little disdain as she placed her work tablet on the bar. Instead of unlocking it to see the screen, she left the cover closed, turning on the bar stool and lacing her fingers together. “I thought I made it very clear that I wasn’t interested in assisting your career.”
“Oh, you did. But then this interesting little tidbit came up and I just knew you could help me out with it.” She pulled the notepad out so quickly that Katalynne swore that she could summon it with just a mere thought. “Seems they found a body a couple hours from here dumped in a quarry. Victim of a particularly nasty blade. Or sword.” Liza’s eyes glanced up at Katalynne as she said that part, making sure she caught it. “Victim is a young man in his early twenties, sliced apart by a large blade with an unidentifiable white mold covering plants nearby.” The notepad was closed and Liza smirked. “Is your boss out sharpening that strange sword of his on college students’ bodies again?”
Her drink arrived and Katalynne set out a few bills for the bartender, not willing to accept anything from the woman sitting beside her. “He was cleared of those charges,” Katalynne said, remembering the pointless mess she had to deal with a couple of months ago. Three dead bodies, two of which were students on campus, with the same evidence of a brutal sword attack but no proof that the sword belonged to her boss. “In fact, I believe you were in the courtroom at the time.”
“Doesn’t mean Randall Fagan isn’t a psychotic killer. The public has seen the pictures. There are bodies and sightings of him during the night in different neighborhoods. Just because the police can’t link the bodies doesn’t mean he’s not responsible.”
Katalynne rolled her eyes, disinterest in anything the woman had to say. “And I suppose you believe in his partner, Bigfoot, as well?”
Liza ignored the jest and kept pushing. “How about you, Ms. Cove? What exactly do you do for him that pays your bills? You left a highly lucrative job as a personal assistant for one of the leading law firms in the state to work for this man? What does he pay you for?”
“I pick up his dry cleaning.”
Liza set down the notepad, obviously not happy with that response. Katalynne could practically see the gears turning in the poor woman’s head as she tried to come up with another angle to strike from. Katalynne turned her attention to her drink. There was a hint of cherry that she wasn’t used to but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“Where is your boss tonight?”
Katalynne tapped her tablet screen, pulling up his schedule like a good little personal assistant. “I’m not sure, I clocked out over an hour ago. What he does after work isn’t my business. And I believe you’ve run dry for the night.”
“What’s your rush? All the dry cleaning shops are closed by now.” Liza bit the words off sharply. The notepad was closed now and she was flying solo, that well trained mind looking for another place to pounce. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”
That brought the raising of a perfect eyebrow but Katalynne remained calm. “Now you are reaching. Good night, Liza. I would like to enjoy my drink in peace.”
“I’m right, aren’t I? He’s significantly less attractive unless you like the rugged type. That is entirely possible… – you’re frowning. You don’t like this idea. How about you tell me what’s going on and I won’t plaster the front of the paper next week with lewd details of your secret sex life.”
Katalynne turned her attention back to the woman sitting next to her and decided to do away with the pleasantries. “I wasn’t aware that your own sex life was so stagnant that you have to fantasize about mine.”
“Don’t believe me? I’ll post it, and believe me I have quite a few pictures of you just waiting to be fancied up in Photoshop–”
“Hmm, that sounds like harassment.” This came from the bartender who still had her lovely tattooed back toward them, the lyrics of some song curving over her shoulder blades in small, delicate lines. Her hands still worked in precision, wiping clean another glass. As she leaned forward to place it away she turned her head just slightly, her gaze settling on Liza to make the threat clear.
Liza stood up and grabbed her notepad, shoving it hard enough into her purse that both women could hear the keys jingle in protest. “We’ll talk later.” With that, she turned and stomped out of the bar.
“I don’t think she likes me.” The bartender smirked as she wiped the spot where Liza had been sitting.
Katalynne chuckled and finished off her drink before sliding it forward for a refill. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I don’t like her much anyway. This one’s on me.” The refill appeared with little effort and this time there was a cherry floating on top of the liquid. Katalynne relaxed in her seat as her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Leaning back a little she fished it out and brought it to her ear. She turned so that her back was to the bartender who had already gone back to serving another patron.
“Katt. Got some overtime for you.”
She could almost hear the smirk on his lips as Randall Fagan spoke. No matter how serious the situation he was always a hairline away from pressing her up against a wall in a less than professional way. It would have been sexual harassment if Katalynne didn’t find his attempts at seduction so amusing. She had made it clear on several occasions that she wasn’t interested, but he kept stalking her like a clever little puppy. Fagan knew how to perfectly walk the line between creepy and cute so that she was never really tempted to quit.
“I work hourly. You know I don’t do overtime.” A touch unlocked her tablet and she slid her finger across the screen to begin taking notes.
What mythical creature do you think could be hiding among people in our world?
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