It's a new year, make a resolution to read a well
established series from the beginning
One moment magic dominates, and cars stall and guns fail.
The next, technology takes over and the defensive spells no
longer protect your house from monsters. Here skyscrapers
topple under onslaught of magic; werebears and werehyenas
prowl through the ruined streets; and the Masters of the
Dead, necromancers driven by their thirst of knowledge and
wealth, pilot blood-crazed vampires with their minds.
In this world lives Kate Daniels. Kate likes her sword a
little too much and has a hard time controlling her mouth.
The magic in her blood makes her a target, and she spent
most of her life hiding in plain sight. But when
Kateβs guardian is murdered, she must choose to do nothing
and remain safe or to pursue his preternatural killer.
Hiding is easy, but the right choice is rarely easyβ¦
Excerpt I sat at a table in my shadowy kitchen, staring down a
bottle of Booneβs Farm Hard Lemonade, when a magic
fluctuation hit. My wards shivered and died, leaving my
home stripped of its defenses. The TV flared into life,
unnaturally loud in the empty house.
I raised my eyebrow at the bottle and bet it that another
urgent bulletin was on.
The bottle lost.
βUrgent bulletin!β Margaret Chang announced. ββThe Attorney
General advises all citizens that any attempt at summoning
or other activities resulting in the appearance of a being
of supernatural power can be hazardous to yourself and to
other citizens.β
βNo shit,β I told the bottle.
βLocal police have been authorized to subdue any such
activities with all due force.β
Margaret droned on, while I bit into my sandwich. Who were
they kidding? No police force could hope to squash every
summoning. It took a qualified wizard to detect a summoning
in progress. It required only a half-literate idiot with a
twitch of power and a dim idea of how to use it to attempt
one. Before you knew it, a three-headed Slavonic god was
wreaking havoc in downtown Atlanta, the skies were raining
winged snakes, and SWAT was screaming for more ammo. These
were unsafe times. But then in safer times, Iβd be a woman
without a job. The safe tech-world had little use for a
magic-touting mercenary like me.
When people had trouble of a magic kind, the kind of trouble
that cops couldnβt or wouldnβt handle, they called the
Mercenary Guild. If the job happened to fall into my
territory, the Guild then called me. I grimaced and rubbed
my hip. It still ached after the last job, but the wound
had healed better than I expected. That was the first and
last time I would agree to go against the Impala Worm
without full body armor. The next time they better furnish
me with a level four containment suit.
An icy wave of fear and revulsion hit me. My stomach
lurched, sending acid to coat the root of my tongue with a
bitter aftertaste. Shivers ran along my spine, and the tiny
hairs on my neck stood on their ends.
Something bad was in my house.
I put down my sandwich and pushed the volume button of the
remote control, reducing the TV to a low hum. On the screen
Margaret Chang was joined by a brick-faced man with a
high-and-tight haircut and eyes like slate. A cop. Probably
Paranormal Activity Division. I put my hand on the dagger
that rested on my lap and sat very still.
Listening. Waiting.
No sound troubled the silence. A drop of water formed on the
sweaty surface of the Booneβs Farm bottle and slid down its
glistening side.
Something large crawled along the hallway ceiling into the
kitchen. I pretended not to see it. It stopped to the left
of me and slightly behind, so I didnβt have to pretend very
hard.
The intruder hesitated, turned, and anchored itself in the
corner, where the ceiling met the wall. It sat there,
fastened to the paneling by enormous yellow talons, still
and silent like a gargoyle in full sunlight. I took a swig
from the bottle and set it so I could see the creatureβs
reflection. Nude and hairless, it didnβt carry a single
ounce of fat on its skeletal frame and every dry, hard cord
of muscle was clearly visible beneath its taut pallid hide.
Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.
The creature raised its left hand. The dagger talons diced
the empty air, back and forth, like curved knitting
needles. It turned its head doglike and studied me with
eyes luminescent with a particular kind of madness, born of
bestial blood thirst and free of any thought or restraint.
In a single motion I whipped around and hurled the dagger.
The black blade sliced cleanly into the creatureβs throat.
The vampire froze. Its yellow claws stopped moving.
Thick, almost purplish blood swelled around the blade and
slowly slid down the naked flesh of the vampireβs neck,
staining its chest and dripping on the floor. The vampireβs
features twisted, trying to morph into a different face. It
opened its maw, displaying twin fangs that glistened with
yellow like miniature ivory sickles.
βThat was extremely inconsiderate, Kate,β Ghastekβs voice
said from the vampireβs throat. βNow I have to feed him.β
βItβs a reflex. Hear a bell, get food. See an undead, throw
a knife. Same thing, really.β
The vampireβs face jerked as if the Master of the Dead
controlling it tried to squint.
βWhat are you drinking?β Ghastek asked.
βBooneβs Farm.β
βYou can afford better.β
βI donβt want better. I like Booneβs Farm. And I prefer to
do business by phone and with you, not at all.β
βI donβt wish to hire you, Kate. This is merelyβ¦ a social
call.β
I stared at the vampire, wishing I could put my knife into
Ghastekβs throat. It would feel very good cutting into his
flesh. Unfortunately he sat in an armored room many miles away.
βYou enjoy screwing with me, donβt you, Ghastek?β
βImmensely.β
The million-dollar question was why. βWhat is it you want?
Make it quick, my Booneβs Farmβs getting warm.β
βI was just wondering,β Ghastek said with dry neutrality
particular only to him, βwhen was the last time you saw your
guardian?β
The nonchalance in his voice sent tiny cold shivers down my
spine. βWhy?β
βNo reason. As always, a pleasure.β
In a single powerful leap the vampire detached itself from
the wall and flew through the open window, taking my knife
with it.
 Kate Daniels MAGIC BITES
#1.0
β’ April 2007
 MAGIC BURNS
#2.0
β’ April 2008
 MAGIC STRIKES
#3.0
β’ April 2009
 MAGIC BLEEDS
#4.0
β’ June 2010
 MAGIC SLAYS
#5.0
β’ June 2011
 MAGIC RISES
#6.0
β’ August 2013
 MAGIC BREAKS
#7.0
β’ August 2014
 MAGIC SHIFTS
#8.0
β’ August 2015
 MAGIC BINDS
#9.0
β’ September 2016
 MAGIC TRIUMPHS
#10.0
β’ September 2018
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