Fresh Fiction excerpt from A SHORE THING     Muriel clambered over the wall and crouched beside the crumpled rider. He lay hatless, face down in the grass, and she put a tentative hand to his shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asked. “My friend is a doctor. Lie still, and I’ll fetch him. It will only be a moment.” The man rolled over, his palm and fingers pressed to his eyes. “Lucy?” he groaned. “No.” Muriel sat back on her heels. “Is that your wife? I’ll fetch her, if you like.” The man made a low, negatory sound of distress. After a decade of travels through harsh and varied terrains, Muriel had learned the rudiments of first aid. If necessary, she could clean and dress a wound, no matter how gruesome, trusting that her nerve wouldn’t fail. In this instance, there was nothing gruesome to confront. The man’s skull was intact. He’d given it a good knock, though—how good a knock she couldn’t say. James could say. But where was he? She looked behind her. Stone wall. Blue sky. Two white gulls hanging in the air. James wasn’t vaulting toward them, and those three artists weren’t either. Were they…

NEW YORK CITY   MONDAY, AUGUST 23, 1926 Sorry,” Elsa whispered, though she knew full well the bird splayed on its back on the metal table was past feeling any pain. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, then reached for the scalpel. Having already stuffed the bird’s throat with cotton, she separated the feathers down the midline of the breast. “Here we go.” “Talking to yourself again?” Her colleague approached before she had a chance to make the first incision. “Or are you talking to a dead bird while you skin it? Which is rather worse, if you ask me.” “No one asked you,” she teased. He grinned. At the age of twenty-eight, Archer Hamlin was two years older than Elsa and yet retained his schoolboy charm. She had proved immune to it, however, which made their camaraderie easy and light. He worked in the Department of Preparation, painting dioramas for habitat displays, but found reasons enough to visit her fifth-floor office. “Admit it,” he said. “You’re so lonely back here you’ve gone batty.” Batty? Never. Lonely? Maybe. Definitely. “Lauren left for Egypt last week,” she told him. “Your cousin and roommate, Lauren? Say, didn’t I…

Hennessee House stuck out like a Victorian sore thumb trapped in suburbia. It was three stories including the attic, painted dark brown with cream trim, and had a startling number of windows and a short but wide set of stairs that led up to the front door. Most of the cul-de-sac sidewalk framed the expansive front gate, which blocked the entrance to the half-circle driveway. Up close it loomed much larger than Lucky thought it should. She’d known it was the biggest house on the block by far, but taking in its perfectly green grass, expertly trimmed hedges, and blooming red rose bushes felt strangely intimidating. A quickening in the pit of her stomach warned her to leave while simultaneously daring her to enter. “Relax.” She made the command through gritted teeth, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel for dear life. Her sense of self- preservation was too damn strong. More than once she’d ended up fist-fighting it in abandoned mines and the like. Ignoring her gut often came at her own peril. But Hennessee House would be worth the risk. Eventually. The truth was Lucky didn’t get into her graduate school of choice. Twice. It was small, exclusive, and the…

“Are you feeling well?” Mr. Castillo asked. “Hm?” Harry asked, her brain one million miles from her current location. “Are you feeling well?” he repeated. “You seem very distracted today. I thought you might be unwell.” Harry was sure she did a terrible job keeping the shock off her face. Mr. Castillo had never before appeared to notice her mood, or even notice her beyond her value as a human dust remover. He frowned at her now, his own duster in hand, his slightly-too-small maroon sweater bunching up around the roll just above his trouser belt. Harry never saw him in casual clothes, and since she vacuumed inside his closet she knew he didn’t own any. Not a sweatshirt or jeans or a ratty pair of sneakers in sight. The crinkled line between his eyes became more pronounced and she realized she hadn’t actually answered his question. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t get a good night’s sleep and I’m a little out of it.” That much, at least, was true. She hadn’t slept except in fitful snatches the night before, or the night before that. When she closed her eyes she saw the lines of the letter Ted Howell…

The phone clicked off in Molly’s ear. She put the device down on the counter and took a deep breath. “I’m happy to report that Singing Crystals has been saved from a near-death experience.” Newton chortled and bounced a little, responding to the profound relief in her voice. She patted him on the head. Clement grinned. “We’ve still got the contract?” “Yep. Ms. Bell reminded Claude that she had been through a similar business disaster.” “That’s true,” Clement said. “And look what happened. They made a movie out of her experience down in the tunnels. Guild Boss is going to be released the day after the wedding.” “I know. Leona and I are planning to see it with the moms.” Clement started to say something but changed his mind. He nodded, his eyes bleak and sympathetic, and went back to sweeping up broken flowers. “My sister is alive, Clement,” Molly said quietly. She touched the yellow crystal she wore around her neck. “I’d know if she wasn’t.” “Right,” Clement said. Molly started out from behind the counter, intending to give Clement a hand with cleaning up the shop. She stopped when her phone rang again. Returning to the counter, she…

THE STRANGER I WED Excerpt They were here to watch a football game. “I’m afraid the match has already begun, but we’ll be able to see enough to judge their sportsmanship. I know that’s not on your list, but you can learn a lot from how a man treats his teammates and adversaries,” Camille continued. “Perhaps we can pop over to the public house and watch them after, though that might be pushing things.” It wouldn’t do to have anyone recognize the duchess. Once they heard the sisters’ American accents, their disguises of plain clothes would be quite useless to hide their identities from their prospective suitors. All objectivity would be gone and they would lose their chance to observe them unaware. “Perhaps we can watch for a time,” Cora said. They rounded a corner after a row of tiny houses onto a narrow dirt lane that led to a field. It did appear the game was already in progress with roughly two dozen men on the pitch. Half wore green shirtsleeves while the other half wore yellow. Both wore trousers or pantaloons that would never be white again with all the mud, along with high socks and leather boots,…

Excerpt from Archangel’s Lineage by Nalini Singh   The pathways were filled with angels and senior vampires dressed with immortal grandeur. The sumptuous beauty of it was undeniable. More than one person shot a glance their way, but no one approached them. “Naasir, are you glaring at people?” A silver-eyed look over his shoulder, his expression so austere you’d never know that beneath his skin lurked a playfulness feral and unique. “I’m just looking extremely serious.” Andi, her arm tucked into his, glanced back at them. “He’s being his most grim-faced self.” A whisper. “I am terrified.” Leaning down, Naasir nipped at the tip of her ear with sharp tiger-creature teeth. Andi yelped, then hit him on the chest with no force at all before leaning into him, her hand curled around his biceps. The two were ridiculously adorable, even if Naasir still refused to tell Elena his exact species. Oh, and everyone else thought it was just hilarious that she didn’t know. Ha! “Ellie! Ellie! Up here!” The hail came from one of the houses that lined the edge of the gorge, the voice small and bright. “Teacher Jessamy! You look pretty!” When Elena glanced up to the second…

THE WEDDING BOX – Exclusive excerpt By Toni Blake   A sleek, shiny black sedan glides past us as we stand next to the grave, directly beside one of the twisty, winding cemetery lanes.  I glance up as the car slows down about thirty yards away and eases to a stop, then I return my attention to a yellow gingham ribbon tied to a branch and in need of a little straightening. “Oh my,” Aunt Nan croons softly. I peek over at her, pretty sure she’s not just admiring my bow adjustment, then follow her eyes to the stopped car.  Or, more precisely, to the man who just exited it.  With dark hair and a chiseled jawline, he’s remarkably handsome and clearly well-groomed, but he strikes me as austere.  Wearing a black business suit—as sleek as the car—I find him intimidatingly attractive, even from that distance.  The only soft thing about him is the fact that he’s accompanied by a cute little Yorkie on a hot pink—decidedly not austere—leash.  The cute dog looks out of place with him. I shift my glance to Aunt Nan.  “What?” “He’s a handsome one.” Yeah, I noticed that.  But so what?  “I suppose.” “You…

“Speak!” Kerrol twisted free and raised his hands apologetically. None of his unparalleled skills at reading people were required to understand how close to the edge Evar stood. “I’m sorry for your loss, brother.” “You said you could find her!” Evar snapped, unwilling to let go of the offered hope but also unwilling to believe it. “I needed you to come with us.” Kerrol lowered his gaze. “Couldn’t leave you there for the next skeer that happened by.” Evar wasn’t aware he’d swung for Kerrol until Clovis caught his wrist and pulled the blow aside. “Enough!” She pushed between them. Kerrol stepped back, unruffled, as if he’d anticipated both the attack and their sister coming to his aid. “You don’t even know!” Evar shouted at both of them. “You don’t even know . . .” He jerked his arm free of Clovis’s grip. “Livira was the Assistant!” He tried to stop shouting, tried to steady his voice, but it kept breaking around surfacing emotion. “Her spirit. Her ghost. It entered the Assistant centuries ago. She was trapped in there ever since. The other one, Malar, was trapped in the Soldier. Until . . .” Clovis stepped back, frowning, minute shakes of her head to express her…

The Other Side of the Mirror PROLOGUE   The smoke was everywhere, curling around a framed picture of our family like it would strangle them with those dark tendrils. Just as it was trying to do to us now. The fire had spread too fast, moving too quickly to be real, as though the blaze was a living creature bent on destroying us. I took a deep breath, then coughed harshly as the smoke scorched my throat. Covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve, I started to move down the hallway toward the back door…but my mother grabbed my wrist, pulling me to a stop. The gold that encircled the pupils of her hazel eyes glowed in the light of the flames as she wordlessly dragged me in the other direction, her other hand clenched around my brother’s. Tobias’s eyes were wide as he took in the flames engulfing our home. “We need to help Dad—” “No.” My mother pulled us away from the closest exit and into our living room. “This way.” I struggled as I realized where she was taking us, but her hand was like a steel vise around my wrist. “There’s no way out from…