Showing results by narrator "Winter Johnson" in All Categories

Dorian Gray’s painting was never in the vault of the library. We currently have no idea where it is and the only person who can track it is probably being held hostage in a storage yard with all kinds of cursed objects. Balthazar’s dick is still cursed and there’s no easy way to remove it. I already made it worse once. I hope it doesn’t fall off this time. I was totally against marrying Reyson when he woke up and announced I would be his new wife, but my resolve on that is starting to weaken. I’m starting to care for the damned god.

I was protected by the monsters under my bed when I was a kid in the foster system. I have a feeling I could use them again. My time in the foster system wasn’t great. Maybe they were imaginary, but when things got bad, the boogeyman and an imp always came to my aid. If I needed to run, a beautiful white stag would appear at my window to let me know to get out of there. I’ve touched the stag. I know he’s real.

The angels came two hundred years ago with a mission to wipe out everything the pagan gods created. The humans came together to form the Coalition to hunt us for them. We disappear and end up in various places to be experimented on. I ended up in New Eden Asylum. The nuns and priests keep me in a padded room in the basement with all the deadlier supernaturals. They don't experiment on me and try to cure me like the others because I'm too dangerous to be in the same room with. I don't know how long I've been here, but I haven't seen or spoken to anyone in a very long time.

When Brate and the Sisterhood rescued Malok from Polbine Voltaire, the victory was short-lived. King Voltaire escaped with his life, and Isa, the mysterious and powerful warlock, disappeared after sending Voltaire running. But just who is Isa? With his help, Brate, Malok, Priva, and Graissa are convinced they can defeat Voltaire once and for all, and stand a chance at closing the Rift. When all hope seems lost, one single act will alter the course of the entire sphere. The surprising truth will change the Stewards, change the Sisterhood, and open the floodgates of the Deep.

The Rift must be closed, and the weight of that mission falls on the most powerful and dangerous of the Stewards, Brate Hightower. But Brate is ill and close to losing his mind after a battle leaves the Covenwitches divided. As the rest of the Stewards struggle to join forces, demonic creatures, people seeking to use them for their own gains, and their own weaknesses threaten to pull them apart. And when Malok Mountain Keeper is forced off his mission by a mysterious man, he finds himself preparing to face King Polbine Voltaire alone.

A darkness lurks beneath the surface, brooding, waiting. The Deep writhes in currents of power, holding the Rift at bay. But the Stewards, accessors of the Deep, have not walked the lands in 300 years. Their legend lives on, but it is just that. Legend. No one living remembers. And the witches wait for their return, when all four Stewards can unite to bring about the downfall of the Rift. 

The frontier is a weird and terrible place ruled by orcs, gunsmoke, bandits, and cults with singing gods. In the mining town of Marrow, tensions are high between the social elite true-kin orcs and the lower class mining skrud. The local law has given up on breaking up the daily gunfights. Morris, the barber, struggles to make a living away from the big city, Galendis. It's election season, and the current mayor finds himself running against an industrial tycoon. When the dead begin to rise and cast their vote for a skin eating monster, the town must band together to fight back.

The dragons are reawakening. All the signs indicate as much. The duration of the spell that forced the beasts into magically prolonged slumber has nearly elapsed. The fanatical Cult of the Wyrm, secretly worshipping the power of the creatures throughout the dark centuries, has come out of hiding and is murdering those whom it believes have the power to reinstate the spell. And the now-forgotten caverns where the wyrms were confined so many centuries ago shake with the stirrings of the restless dragons.

Apparently, I’m not a dragon. What I am is indestructible, capable of healing mortal wounds, and Alastair can never hurt me again. From what I’m understanding, he can’t even use his old tricks if he could manage to force them down my throat. I don’t know where he is, but I’m coming for him. He killed me and hurt Oisin. I’m home in the Unseelie Court. It’s beautiful but so different than everything I ever knew. I barely have time to see everything before I have to leave again. Shortly after Alastair’s attack, my mother’s ambassador in the Seelie Court went dark with her communications.