Ann Gimpel

Power is intoxicating. Anyone who says you can overdo it is either incompetent or a very good liar. I've chased down every scrap of additional magic that crossed my path, drained it, and started the hunt anew. My obsession hasn't made me much of a companion. I wouldn't have blamed my bondmate for leaving, but the snow leopard has stuck by my side.It pains me to admit he's my sole connection to my better nature. He tempers my penchant for blowing holes in the world and asking questions later. Not that he has a soft side. He doesn't, but we've taken care of each other for all the years in my memory.Information just fell into my lap. Critical material I should have picked up on if I'd been paying attention. My next stop is Grigori, the werewolf who heads up a gang of paranormal assassins. Once I was part his Circle, but I left to sharpen my seer skills. No matter how adept I became, scrying the future-or the past-didn't augment my power, so I moved on. Flitting from this to that to the other has been the story of my obscenely long life.No more. It's back to the Circle for the leopard and me. We'll remain as long as we're needed.

I'm one of the old ones. I've lived many lives, done many things. I've been called sorceress, witch, and far worse. Mortals have hung me, burned me, staked me out, and left me to die. What a pack of fools. I'm immortal, and their petty attempts were laughable.So were they when I stopped their puny, pathetic hearts. The thrill of ending someone never gets old, no matter how unbalanced the contest.When I want a break from everything, Dorcha-my bondmate-and I bide with the Circle of Assassins. I never mean to stay long, but the years have a way of slipping by.While I find peace within the Circle, Dorcha becomes restive. She never used to mind being the only unicorn, but she's grown silent, withdrawn. The place within me where I feel her energy is often empty.We need a nice juicy assignment to get things back on track, a mission worthy of our skill. Excited by the prospect of free-flowing blood and the crusty stench of battle, I searched for her, but she was gone. Worse than gone, my link with her was buried beneath layers of unicorn enchantment. Could I find her? Sure, but she didn't wish to be found.

Large Print EditionUrban fantasy and slow-burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds.Faery's castle lies in ruins, a reflection of the rest of a land I love. My land, my realm, has altered almost beyond recognition. The part that hasn't changed is the incredible people and creatures who live in Faery. Unicorns. Fauns. Satyrs. Fae. Sidhe. To name but a few. Their spirits have been indomitable, and it makes me proud to call them brothers.But then, the Unseelie used to be brethren too. Now they stand against us along with a collection of monsters intent on sucking every last breath of life from Faery.The worst part about all of this has been not knowing whom I can call friend. Faery, the incarnation of the land that bears her name, recovered her body, but I don't trust her. Our lead seer confessed her visions have been tainted. We are in the thick of things. As we lurch into the endgame, my life, soul, and fortunes are linked with the woman I love. We rise-or fall-together.If it comes down to a gut-wrenching choice, will I pick Faery or Dariyah?

Urban fantasy and slow burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the nightStrange bedfellows rock worlds. My days as Faery's reluctant regent have crashed and burned.

Large Print EditionUrban fantasy and slow burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds. Reluctant recruit to the nines, I became Faery's regent by default. Sure, I was next in line for the throne, but I never believed Oberon and Titania were gone for good until first a decade rolled by, and then two, and then ten.They'll never be back, and the land is mourning. Or pissed. It's hard to tell which, and I'm not sure what difference it makes. I split my time between Faery and Earth searching for a way to mend the rift that's killing my realm. I haven't made much progress. Time is running through the glass, mocking my paltry efforts.A sultry Witch is barely a blip on the radar. So what if she counts cards in the casino I run on Earth and makes my pit boss a little nuts? Out of the blue, she spits out the unbelievable, and I discover she's not a Witch after all. A glamour hid her Fae-Sidhe blood so well, she'd fooled me.Her mixed blood is an affront. By rights, I should haul her before the Court to face justice. She understood the chance she took revealing herself to me, and her offer to join forces is tempting, but it could cost me my throne.Some risks are worth the price. If I cross the line, there'll be no going back.

If they had one of those anonymous rehabilitation programs for folks like me, my introduction would be, "Hi, I'm Shira, and I kill people." Except rehab suggests killing people bothers me. It doesn't.Neither am I particularly committed to anything other than not being caught. That sounded a shred on the hard-hearted side. I'm not. I'm a lot like you. I get up every morning, clean myself up, and check my phone to see what I have cooking.Everyone has a job. Mine happens to be ridding the world of people who shouldn't be here. Not that I'm making those decisions. People hire me, and I trust they've done their homework.I've always been...different, never had a close circle of friends or even associates. Once I discovered I could do unusual things, I kept to myself. Those rare skills make me a perfect choice because I kill from a distance and leave no evidence. What I do is lucrative. I'm pretty much set even for my rather long lifetime.In theory, I could quit anytime.I say that after every job. That I should walk away, except I don't. Tell you what. Don't judge me, and I might spare you if your number comes up on my dance card. Deal?

Urban fantasy and slow-burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds.Faery's castle lies in ruins, a reflection of the rest of a land I love. My land, my realm, has altered almost beyond recognition. The part that hasn't changed is the incredible people and creatures who live in Faery. Unicorns. Fauns. Satyrs. Fae. Sidhe. To name but a few. Their spirits have been indomitable, and it makes me proud to call them brothers.But then, the Unseelie used to be brethren too. Now they stand against us along with a collection of monsters intent on sucking every last breath of life from Faery.The worst part about all of this has been not knowing whom I can call friend. Faery, the incarnation of the land that bears her name, recovered her body, but I don't trust her. Our lead seer confessed her visions have been tainted. We are in the thick of things. As we lurch into the endgame, my life, soul, and fortunes are linked with the woman I love. We rise-or fall-together.If it comes down to a gut-wrenching choice, will I pick Faery or Dariyah?

Urban fantasy and slow-burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds.Faery has changed so much I barely recognize her. I suppose every regent who loses a major war feels the same way about his country. The worst part is I didn't see this coming. A few minor skirmishes, sure, but the Unseelie fielded tens of thousands against us. The King of Winter is finally exacting revenge against the consort who spurned him. The rest of us are collateral damage. He played his hand well, attracted powerful allies, and punted us into a definite one-down position.For the moment.Pegasus is the king's primary ally. I possess knowledge that will blow their partnership sky high. And proof in case neither of them believes me. Timing is everything, though. Not putting my evidence in danger is at the tiptop of my list. I love Dariyah, and I wouldn't draw attention her way if it weren't necessary. She'd pooh-pooh my pussyfooting around. Even if I wanted to muffle her connection to Pegasus, she'd overrule me and throw it in his horsey face.We must wrest Faery from the enemy. I finally hold the land link, but success is far from a foregone conclusion. More blood will flow before we're done. Buckets of the stuff, but I can't let that stop me.

Urban fantasy and slow burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds. My days as Faery's reluctant regent have crashed and burned. Either I left the land to rot in a squalid soup of broken promises, or I destroyed her enemies one by one. No choice there. Not really. I'd known some of those "enemies" since childhood, which was centuries ago. They say familiarity breeds contempt. In my case it bred sorrow as I consigned Fae who'd been friends to eternal destruction and fed them to the land.Dariyah, the Witch-who-wasn't-one, crossed my path for reasons I'm still figuring out. Her long-lost mother presided over one of Faery's many dirty secrets, the Midnight Court. Some like to believe Fae blood is pure. It's not. The Sidhe and us are joined at the hip, and the Midnight Court was once a living symbol of our bond.I'll fight to maintain a magical world that's open to all. If I'm quick, ruthless, I might beat Oberon at his own game. Sly bastard that he is, he still holds the link to Faery. If I can't wrest it from him, the land-my land-will wither and fade.

Large Print EditionI did it I'm free. Well sort of. Freedom isn't as cut and dried as the word implies. In this case, I'm at the top of Death's Worst Reaper Ever list. What it signifies remains to be seen.I broke free from Death because there wasn't any other way out of Reaping Vampires. She refused to let me off the hook or consider other arrangements. I'd have been content leaving it at that, but word about my choice got out. Other Reapers clamored for independence too.Death's fury expanded another notch with every defection until nowhere is far enough away for me to run to. If I was only fighting her, it might be manageable. Toss in Vampires who hate my guts, a phalanx of dark gods who want my hide, and a bunch of bigoted mortals who've decided magic is holding them back.Pah. Humans are their own worst enemy, but they're the least of my problems.It's been a rocky journey. Along the way I've uncovered allies and even a man who loves me. Will we be enough to slam the gates and send darkness packing?We have to be.No prisoners.No choices.

Urban fantasy and slow burn romance wrapped into a serial that will keep you up reading long into the night. Strange bedfellows rock worlds. Reluctant recruit to the nines, I became Faery's regent by default. Sure, I was next in line for the throne, but I never believed Oberon and Titania were gone for good until first a decade rolled by, and then two, and then ten.They'll never be back, and the land is mourning. Or pissed. It's hard to tell which, and I'm not sure what difference it makes. I split my time between Faery and Earth searching for a way to mend the rift that's killing my realm. I haven't made much progress. Time is running through the glass, mocking my paltry efforts.A sultry Witch is barely a blip on the radar. So what if she counts cards in the casino I run on Earth and makes my pit boss a little nuts? Out of the blue, she spits out the unbelievable, and I discover she's not a Witch after all. A glamour hid her Fae-Sidhe blood so well, she'd fooled me.Her mixed blood is an affront. By rights, I should haul her before the Court to face justice. She understood the chance she took revealing herself to me, and her offer to join forces is tempting, but it could cost me my throne.Some risks are worth the price. If I cross the line, there'll be no going back.

Large Print EditionIn a post-apocalyptic world where most people have been slaughtered, the Celtic gods and a few humans with magic are all that stand between survival and Earth falling into chaos. The combination of dark sorcery leveraged by the enemy is daunting. Destruction is all but certain if the small enclaves of humans who are left can't get past their distrust of the Celts.Captured by the enemy, Aislinn Lenear wonders if she'll ever see her bond wolf or Fionn, a Celtic god, again. She's had nothing but her wits to rely on for years. They haven't failed her yet, but escape from her current predicament seems remote.An enticing blend of dystopian urban fantasy and romance, this second volume of the Earth Reclaimed Series provides fertile ground for Aislinn and Fionn's relationship to deepen. Headstrong and independent, the pair run up against each other's demands time and time again. Fireworks spark. In the end, they learn to savor every moment in a bittersweet world where each day may well be the last.

Large Print EditionAislinn Lenear has traveled a long road since the dark gods invaded Earth better than three years ago. After seeing her father slaughtered in front of her, and her mother sink into madness, Aislinn built strong walls around her heart. First her bond wolf, and then Fionn MacCumhaill, changed all that, but she and Fionn are far from home free.Four of the six dark gods are still sowing destruction, and they've joined forces with Lemurians, a desperate lot, running just ahead of the tide of their own mortality. In a bold move, they try to coopt a group of young dragons, and very nearly succeed. Dewi, the Celtic dragon god, and Nidhogg, the Norse dragon god, banish their brood to the dragons' home world, but they refuse to stay put.In a fast-paced, tension-riddled closure to this dystopian, urban fantasy series, Earth's Hope sweeps from Ireland to the Greek Islands to the Pacific Northwest to borderworlds where the dark gods live. Fionn's and Aislinn's relationship is strained to the breaking point as they struggle to work together without tearing one another to bits. Fionn is used to being obeyed without question, but Aislinn won't dance to his tune. If they can find their way, there may be hope for a ravaged Earth.

Large Print EditionAislinn Lenear lost her anthropologist father high in the Bolivian Andes. Her mother, crazy with grief that muted her magic, was marched into a radioactive vortex by dark creatures and killed. Three years later, stripped of every illusion that ever comforted her, twenty-two year old Aislinn is one resilient, kickass woman with a take no prisoners attitude. In a world turned upside down, where virtually nothing familiar is left, she's conscripted to fight the dark gods responsible for her father's death. Battling evil on her own terms, Aislinn walls herself off from anything that might make her feel again in this compelling dystopian urban fantasy. Fionn MacCumhaill, Celtic god of wisdom, protection, and divination has been laying low since the dark gods stormed Earth. He and his fellow Celts decided to wait them out. After all, three years is nothing compared to their long lives. On a clear winter day, Aislinn walks into his life and suddenly all bets are off. Awed by her courage, he stakes his claim to her and to an Earth he's willing to fight for. Aislinn's not so easily convinced. Fionn's one gorgeous man, but she has a world to save. Emotional entanglements will only get in her way. Letting a wolf into her life was hard. Letting love in may well prove impossible.

Bloated on chaos, the Morrigan leaves the Scottish Highlands to gather power. A trip through Hell yields quite the assortment of allies tagging along behind her. Fell creatures straight out of myth and nightmare that haven't darkened Earth's boundaries for centuries heed her call.Heartily sick of the Morrigan's maneuvering, the dragons are close to shutting their world off from everywhere, Earth included. If they do that, every single dragon shifter bond will end up broken. Horrified, Lachlan and Britta launch a desperate campaign to hang onto their dragons.Magic may bite back, but if the dragons take their magic ball and go home, Earth will fade, along with all other worlds. That suits the Morrigan fine. War and anarchy are her favorite companions, and she collects misery like children gather beloved toys.Arianrhod's fellow Celts found out about her fall from grace and her half-Druid son, Jonathan. With nothing further to hide, she goes back in time hunting Angus, Jonathan's father. Forty years apart was a steep price to pay. The world needs Angus' magic. And Jonathan needs all the help he can get. Late to accept the power thrumming through him, he holds a key role in keeping the world from spinning off its axis. Reluctant at first, Jonathan finally gets it.Absolute focus.Absolute commitment.Anything less and everyone he loves will pay an unthinkable price.

When pressed, Jonathan Shea admits magic runs through his blood, but he's always been ambivalent about it--until a dragon and her mage show up in the Scottish Highlands, and then all bets are off. Jonathan's charmed and captivated by the dragon--a creature fresh out of myth and legend--but the woman bonded to the dragon is so enticing, he tosses caution to the winds and dives into the magical power he's avoided for so long.Britta and her dragon prepare for a battle to save Earth. Freshly transplanted from a much earlier time, she feels awkward, out of place. The first person she lays eyes on is Jonathan. There's something about him. She can't quite pinpoint it, but he has way more magic than he lets on. Magic aside, it's deeper than that. For the first time ever, she questions the wisdom of remaining a maid. If she doesn't make up her mind damned fast, though, her choices will fritter away. Beset from every side, she's never needed her magical ability more.Surrounded by dragon shifters, Celtic gods, Selkies, time travel, and a heaping portion of magic, Jonathan comes into his own fast. Fell creatures target him, Britta, and her dragon. In the midst of chaos, he and Britta find scorching passion and love so heartbreakingly tender, it will change their lives forever.

A dragon shifter stirs and wakens in a cave beneath Inverness, deep in the Scottish Highlands. The cave's the same and his hoard intact, yet something's badly amiss. Determined to set whatever's gone wrong to rights, Lachlan Moncrieffe ventures above ground--and wishes he hadn't. His castle's gone, replaced by ungainly row houses. Men aren't wearing plaids, and women scarcely wear anything at all, particularly the woman who accosts him with unseemly banter. What manner of wench is she to dress so provocatively?In Inverness for a year on a psychiatry fellowship, Dr. Maggie Hibbins watches an oddly dressed man pick his way out of a heather and gorse thicket. Even though it runs counter to her better judgment, she teases him about his strange attire. He looks so lost--and so unbelievably, knock-out gorgeous --she takes a chance and stands him a meal. Lachlan's shock when he picks up a local newspaper at a pub is so palpable, Maggie jumps in with both feet.She knew something was off, but the hard-to-accept truth bashes gaping holes in her equilibrium. He looks odd, sounds odd, acts odd because he's a refugee from another era. Her half-baked seduction scheme takes a hike, but her carefully constructed life is still about to change forever. Born of powerful witches, Maggie runs headlong into the myth and magic that are her birthright.