Devastated by Rebecca’s death, Mark is facing the chaos of the press and the police investigation alone, his reputation, his business, and even his freedom under threat. When a family emergency sends him back east to New York, he puts Crystal—who’s as capable as she is challenging—in charge of his San Francisco art gallery. A Master, all about control, right now he feels that he has none. With his secret sex club and his relationships of the past in the spotlight, Mark finds sanctuary in the one place he promised he would never be again—but cannot seem to resist. Crystal’s arms.
This is the prequel story to We Are Not Good People, the gritty new supernatural thriller from master storyteller Jeff Somers. Enter the hidden world of blood mages—and their victims.
The underground few who practice blood magic—casting with a swipe of the blade and a few secretive Words—are not good people. Lem and Mags live in this world, and they try to be good, try to skate by on Cantrips and charms and scratch out a meager existence without harming anyone…much. But when a massive debt forces Lem into the role of Fixer, he’ll learn exactly what down and out really means.
Six months after the events of Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Doctor Christine Chapel and Spock must save the life of an ailing Audrid Dax, her true nature as a Trill having remained a mystery until now. But after an unknown vessel attacks their shuttle, a risky game of cat-and-mouse may be the only way to save all their lives.
Chapel didn’t know exactly what role Commissioner Audrid Dax had in the Trill government, but it was important enough that she represented Trill in high-level Federation meetings, and she clearly had a lot of pull. With a sigh, Chapel studied her patient. Dax was in her early middle age, looking quite fit and trim. Beautiful, really, with long dark hair and a friendly face showing only a few laugh lines. Chapel hoped she herself looked that good ten or fifteen years down the road. All of which belied the necessity of this assignment. Dax smiled back at her, somehow charming and smug at the same time, as if she knew everything that Chapel didn’t. Which is exactly the problem, thought Chapel. This whole mission is a mystery.
“I’ll have to take your word on that, won’t I?” Chapel didn’t like that Dax had turned her bedside manner into McCoy’s curmudgeonly approach, but a patient demanding emergency evac yet refusing all medical scans could get under any doctor’s skin.
“I know it’s awkward.” Dax was still smiling, but sympathetically now. “But I can’t ignore centuries of Trill tradition because I’m suffering from a little personal discomfort.”
Chapel nodded her grudging acceptance but turned away from Dax. If this was only a “little personal discomfort,” why were they racing to rendezvous with the Troyval, a Trill starship? The crew cabin of the Copernicus had been quickly reconfigured as an emergency medical unit; a privacy wall separated the cabin from the cockpit aft of the side doors, and a portable diagnostic bed had been installed along the starboard bulkhead—but with its scanners off-line. Chapel distracted herself from her dilemma by thinking about the design improvements these new shuttlecraft had over the shuttles the Enterprise had during the five-year mission. The large drop-down door in the stern allowed various modules to be quickly installed, depending on specific mission needs. She rolled her eyes. First she was channeling McCoy, now she was turning into Scotty.
Spock’s deep voice emanating from a ceiling speaker shook her out of her reverie. “Doctor, may I have a word with you?”
Chapel glanced at Dax. “Excuse me.” She got up and made her way forward, hoping Spock would tell her the Troyval would be meeting them ahead of schedule. As the door of the med unit slid shut behind her, she settled into the copilot seat on Spock’s right. He no longer looked as severe as he had when first returning to the Enterprise six months before at the start of the V’ger mission, but he didn’t often look comfortable either. He’d gone through a lot back then, breaking his Kolinahr training—the path to total logic—and then mind-melding with the giant machine entity V’ger. It had shaken the Vulcan to his core, transforming his outlook on the role of emotions and logic in his life. He was a changed man but still adjusting to such a profound personal upheaval. Chapel felt an ache in her heart for her friend whenever she saw him doubt himself, a lost expression sometimes plain on his face, at least to those who knew him well.