Bladed Magic…A Kit Colbana Novella, now available!

BladedMagic72

Smashwords | iBooks | ARe | Amazon | Kobo | BN | Indie Ebooks

The book

A Colbana Files Prequel

The events of this short story take place between A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and BLADE SONG.  It can be read as a stand-alone.

For the first time in her life, Kit Colbana’s life was going just fine.  She had a nice, easy job.  She’d managed to escape the not-so-loving attentions of a family who’d rather see her dead than look at her.  She had a roof over her head and she didn’t have to fight for every little thing she had.

Then she finds herself tangled up with a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin.  He’s looking for somebody and for some bizarre reason, he seems to think she can help.  All she has to do is say no, and she can go back to her safe little existence.  That’s exactly what she needs to do and she knows it.

Too bad she’s not very good at following her own advice.

“So, who wants to talk and who wants to die?”

The voice coming from the alley behind TJ’s was cheerful, just a little too cheerful, considering the grim message in his words. It was a little scary, though, because that cheer was not false. Whoever he was, he was all too excited about the thought of making somebody talk, then bleed, then die.

In that order.

I could smell the blood in the air and it wasn’t shapeshifter blood. I knew that smell all too well, but that was just because I worked in a bar where blood was spilled. A lot. Shapeshifters liked to fight, after all, and those fights led to bloodshed. Lucky me, I got to clean it up.

Go inside. That was the voice of common sense.

I was done working. Nothing for me to do, really. I never did anything, other than work. Well, other than lock myself in my room and read. Or lock myself in the little gym TJ had let me set up and work out. I could do either one of those and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

This one night, I’d felt an odd little pull, something that had tugged me out of the bar. Go back inside, I told myself.

Something sizzled in the air and I felt it dance across my skin.

Then there was a yell, followed by a grunt and a series of thuds.

It was getting really hard to pretend this wasn’t happening. If I went back inside and acted like I hadn’t noticed anything, I’d have a hard time facing myself in the morning.

My inability to mind my own business will be the death of me.  Here lies Kit Colbana, killed by her own curiosity. That will be my epitaph. Still, I couldn’t stay there, shifting from one foot to the other while I listened to somebody getting the hell beaten out of them.

Keeping to the shadows, I moved down the maze of twisting, narrow little paths and paused when I reached the junction up ahead. It was there. Just ahead and to the right. The smell of blood was stronger and I could hear somebody laughing. It was the man I’d heard earlier—

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that…”

His voice sounded thick now. Not quite so eager to make something talk, then bleed, then die.

Of course, he was the one talking, in a voice that was thick and wet. He was bleeding, too. I could see that when I peered around the corner. There he was, caught between two wolves—shapeshifters—while a third drew back a hand and slammed it into his gut.

He crumpled around the fist.

“Who are you working for?” A new voice now, somebody big and mean. He drove another fist into the man’s gut as he spoke. I raked him with a look, sized him up. A werewolf.

The entire tableau was surreal. There were three weres, the one doing the pummeling, while the other two held a brown-haired man immobile.

“One more time, you little fuck.” The were smashed a giant fist into the man’s face and I winced as blood splattered out in an arcing spray. “Who are you working for?”

There was no answer, just a nasal sort of groan.

The werewolf in front of him fisted a hand in the man’s hair and jerked his head up, leaning in to snarl at the man. He looked…human. I didn’t feel that weird kind of energy I sensed around all shifters, which meant if this kept up, he’d be dead.

Nervous, I glanced behind me. Could I get back to the bar and Goliath?

I didn’t know.

Sliding a hand inside my vest, I touched one of the silver knives.

“Come on, witch. You aren’t down here asking about night just because you want to.” The wolf reached up, caught the man’s face, started to squeeze.

Horrified, I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. I couldn’t look away as I watched those fingers dig in. I knew how strong shifters were. They could crush bone, stone, metal.

The man groaned hoarsely.

Shit. I can’t watch this. I had to do something—had to help.

Abruptly, it was like the fight drained out of him.

“There. That’s what I thought.” The wolf backed up and now, all I could see was his back. “Give me the name, boy. You don’t want me telling TJ you been running around behind her back and fucking her over, do you? Selling drugs to kids, skimming her profits?”

What?

“Did you hear that?” One of the other wolves looked up, eyes narrowing.

Oh. Shit.

I’d bumped something on the ground. It wouldn’t have been loud enough for anybody human to hear.

But we weren’t dealing with humans. The NH—non-human—population had sharper senses and I had all but shouted my presence.

“Sounds like…”

I gripped the knife and shot a look once more toward TJ’s. If I ran, they’d catch me. If I called for Goliath, he’d hear me, but probably not in time.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

I should have gone to my room and finished my damn book.

A shadow stretched out along the ground in front of me—so close.

Instinct moved me and I lunged out, threw the knife.

I hadn’t taken out a target since the night in the sewers, but I never once doubted my aim.

I am aneira

The words echoed in the back of my mind. I’d heard them, so often, in the years before I’d run away. Time seemed to slow.

My aim is true.

And it was. The blade flew, straight and true and so very fast. So fast the shifter didn’t even have time to avoid it. The silver buried itself in the shifter’s heart. Without waiting to see what happened, I lunged at him and as he hit the ground, I wrenched the knife around, twisting it. The scent of smoke filled the air. I didn’t waste another second. I came up and dove forward in a somersault. I landed in a crouch as I faced the other two shapeshifters.

The man pinned to the wall looked at me with greener than green eyes. To my surprise, he grinned. “It’s about fucking time.”

* * * *

Side note…in things that annoy me…an opening to a book can be either a nuisance, trying to figure out the perfect hook, or a thing of beauty, because it’s so damn perfect.

When I sat down to write this, I immediately knew how I wanted to do it, because I could hear Justin’s mocking, smart-ass voice in the back of my head…saying that line.

I thought it was sheer brilliance.

And now I want to stop reading books, forever…ugh.  Because while I reading over the weekend, actually, glomming…I’ve been on a Jeaniene Frost kick again, that line was painfully similar to one Jeaniene Frost’s Vlad had said in one of the Cat & Bones books.  Who wants to talk and who wants to burn to death…

The book was written several years ago, and nooooo… I wasn’t piecing through it trying to find clever lines.  :(  dear jeanine, i love that line from vlad and now my line doesn’t sound so brilliant…

I realize it’s possible that things like this can (and well, it did) happen, but sometimes I wish I could dump all things I’ve read into one giant system and compare it to all the stuff I’m writing so I can keep stuff like this from happening.  I figure that will happen about the same time I get that ‘brain to screen’ program I’ve been hankering for.

Anyway… the story is out, it’s up almost everywhere, just waiting for it to hit BN, which hopefully will be soon.

Stuff… and Books… Kit short…and…DABWAHA!!!!

The stuff part of that post…I broke my website.  So I might need to Shiloh Walker posts here for the next few days.  My web people must hate me. I leave for Scotland on Wednesday.

The books…I’m almost done with another Grimm book. It’s Finn’s story. He’s the firestarter I started bringing into books a few books back.  I dunno when.  A word of warning…well, a few of them.  I started bawling near the end.  That’s bad.  I don’t cry with my books much.  I did with IF YOU KNOW HER, near the very end…if you’ve read, you’ll know why.  And I did in NIGHT BLADE.  And if you’ve ever read the Kit books…YOU’LL KNOW WHY.

So if I’m bawling in a the Grimm books, you probably realize something awful and sniffle-worthy happened.

Now.. the Kit novella… it’s not a short story.  It’s more a novella.  Short stories are generally well under 20k, and this one is over.  So, hey… it’s 20% of a book.  I’m done, it’s coming out…like today or tomorrow, and it’s priced at $0.99.

If it sells well, I’ll consider doing a few more of these in the future.  I have a few more ideas, but whether or not I pursue them depends on how well this goes.  FYI, guys, please keep in mind.. novellas are ideas intended for shorter stories…not full length novellas.  That’s why they are short.  Also, they are cheaper–that’s cool for you all, right? ;)

Watch this space for links and stuff, but for now, you can preorder or buy already at…

 

BladedMagic72

Smashwords | iBooks | ARe | Amazon | Kobo

(BN is coming…soon, I hope)

The book

A Colbana Files Prequel

The events of this short story take place between A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and BLADE SONG.  It can be read as a stand-alone.

For the first time in her life, Kit Colbana’s life was going just fine.  She had a nice, easy job.  She’d managed to escape the not-so-loving attentions of a family who’d rather see her dead than look at her.  She had a roof over her head and she didn’t have to fight for every little thing she had.

Then she finds herself tangled up with a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin.  He’s looking for somebody and for some bizarre reason, he seems to think she can help.  All she has to do is say no, and she can go back to her safe little existence.  That’s exactly what she needs to do and she knows it.

Too bad she’s not very good at following her own advice.

Now… onto the DABWAHA!!!

The bitchery award of awesome books.  Or…um, something like that.  It’s confusing.  But Zach and Abby made it into the DABWAHA. And it’s time to make your brackets.  You should do your brackets because if you do your brackets, you can win prizes. Even if your brackets suck.  Also, it’s fun.  And if you do your brackets, you’ll be able to understand what I mean when I nag for votes next week. I’m going to be handicapped, seriously…being in Scotland and all and not being able to beg the way others can, with the timezone and not being able to access wifi, so all the help you all can give me.

I’m willing to … write hot and sexy love scene for Zach & Abbys’s wedding night if they advance.  I can maybe write a scene from an unrelated book, if they advance…or post a scene from Wrecked 2, if they advance.  You all can pick and majority rules.  If they advance.

See?  I’m flexible.

Go here. Pick your brackets. And next week?  PICK ME…and Zach.

Bladed Magic

Releasing next week.. it’s up for pre-order on iBooks but I’ll be adding it to Smashwords, Amazon and BN over the weekend so please watch for it there.

BladedMagic72

A Colbana Files Prequel

The events of this short story take place between A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and BLADE SONG. It can be read as a stand-alone.

For the first time in her life, Kit Colbana’s life was going just fine. She had a nice, easy job. She’d managed to escape the not-so-loving attentions of a family who’d rather see her dead than look at her. She had a roof over her head and she didn’t have to fight for every little thing she had.

Then she finds herself tangled up with a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin. He’s looking for somebody and for some bizarre reason, he seems to think she can help. All she has to do is say no, and she can go back to her safe little existence. That’s exactly what she needs to do and she knows it.

Too bad she’s not very good at following her own advice.

“So, who wants to talk and who wants to die?”

The voice coming from the alley behind TJ’s was cheerful, just a little too cheerful, considering the grim message in his words. It was a little scary, though, because that cheer was not false. Whoever he was, he was all too excited about the thought of making somebody talk, then bleed, then die.

In that order.

I could smell the blood in the air and it wasn’t shapeshifter blood. I knew that smell all too well, but that was just because I worked in a bar where blood was spilled. A lot. Shapeshifters liked to fight, after all, and those fights led to bloodshed. Lucky me, I got to clean it up.

Go inside. That was the voice of common sense.

I was done working. Nothing for me to do, really. I never did anything, other than work. Well, other than lock myself in my room and read. Or lock myself in the little gym TJ had let me set up and work out. I could do either one of those and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

This one night, I’d felt an odd little pull, something that had tugged me out of the bar. Go back inside, I told myself.

Something sizzled in the air and I felt it dance across my skin.

Then there was a yell, followed by a grunt and a series of thuds.

It was getting really hard to pretend this wasn’t happening. If I went back inside and acted like I hadn’t noticed anything, I’d have a hard time facing myself in the morning.

My inability to mind my own business will be the death of me.  Here lies Kit Colbana, killed by her own curiosity. That will be my epitaph. Still, I couldn’t stay there, shifting from one foot to the other while I listened to somebody getting the hell beaten out of them.

Keeping to the shadows, I moved down the maze of twisting, narrow little paths and paused when I reached the junction up ahead. It was there. Just ahead and to the right. The smell of blood was stronger and I could hear somebody laughing. It was the man I’d heard earlier—

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that…”

His voice sounded thick now. Not quite so eager to make something talk, then bleed, then die.

Of course, he was the one talking, in a voice that was thick and wet. He was bleeding, too. I could see that when I peered around the corner. There he was, caught between two wolves—shapeshifters—while a third drew back a hand and slammed it into his gut.

He crumpled around the fist.

“Who are you working for?” A new voice now, somebody big and mean. He drove another fist into the man’s gut as he spoke. I raked him with a look, sized him up. A werewolf.

The entire tableau was surreal. There were three weres, the one doing the pummeling, while the other two held a brown-haired man immobile.

“One more time, you little fuck.” The were smashed a giant fist into the man’s face and I winced as blood splattered out in an arcing spray. “Who are you working for?”

There was no answer, just a nasal sort of groan.

The werewolf in front of him fisted a hand in the man’s hair and jerked his head up, leaning in to snarl at the man. He looked…human. I didn’t feel that weird kind of energy I sensed around all shifters, which meant if this kept up, he’d be dead.

Nervous, I glanced behind me. Could I get back to the bar and Goliath?

I didn’t know.

Sliding a hand inside my vest, I touched one of the silver knives.

“Come on, witch. You aren’t down here asking about night just because you want to.” The wolf reached up, caught the man’s face, started to squeeze.

Horrified, I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. I couldn’t look away as I watched those fingers dig in. I knew how strong shifters were. They could crush bone, stone, metal.

The man groaned hoarsely.

Shit. I can’t watch this. I had to do something—had to help.

Abruptly, it was like the fight drained out of him.

“There. That’s what I thought.” The wolf backed up and now, all I could see was his back. “Give me the name, boy. You don’t want me telling TJ you been running around behind her back and fucking her over, do you? Selling drugs to kids, skimming her profits?”

What?

“Did you hear that?” One of the other wolves looked up, eyes narrowing.

Oh. Shit.

I’d bumped something on the ground. It wouldn’t have been loud enough for anybody human to hear.

But we weren’t dealing with humans. The NH—non-human—population had sharper senses and I had all but shouted my presence.

“Sounds like…”

I gripped the knife and shot a look once more toward TJ’s. If I ran, they’d catch me. If I called for Goliath, he’d hear me, but probably not in time.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

I should have gone to my room and finished my damn book.

A shadow stretched out along the ground in front of me—so close.

Instinct moved me and I lunged out, threw the knife.

I hadn’t taken out a target since the night in the sewers, but I never once doubted my aim.

I am aneira

The words echoed in the back of my mind. I’d heard them, so often, in the years before I’d run away. Time seemed to slow.

My aim is true.

And it was. The blade flew, straight and true and so very fast. So fast the shifter didn’t even have time to avoid it. The silver buried itself in the shifter’s heart. Without waiting to see what happened, I lunged at him and as he hit the ground, I wrenched the knife around, twisting it. The scent of smoke filled the air. I didn’t waste another second. I came up and dove forward in a somersault. I landed in a crouch as I faced the other two shapeshifters.

The man pinned to the wall looked at me with greener than green eyes. To my surprise, he grinned. “It’s about fucking time.”

My jaw fell open and then there was no time for anything else. The other shifter lunged for me and I fumbled with my knife.

Teeth closed around my arm but I still got it up, shoving it into his gut. He howled as silver met skin. I swallowed down a scream, struggling to think past the pain. I knew how to do that—those lessons had been drilled into me back before I even understood what pain really was. Whipping my blade out, I drove it in, then jerked up while he continued to gnaw at me like a dog with a bone. And I felt like a bone—a broken one as his jaws managed to clamp down until the bones in my forearm shattered.

iBooks

Other links coming soonish

Bladed Magic

This is coming soon.

BladedMagic72

A Colbana Files Prequel

The events of this short story take place between A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and BLADE SONG.  It can be read as a stand-alone.

For the first time in her life, Kit Colbana’s life was going just fine.  She had a nice, easy job.  She’d managed to escape the not-so-loving attentions of a family who’d rather see her dead than look at her.  She had a roof over her head and she didn’t have to fight for every little thing she had.

Then she finds herself tangled up with a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin.  He’s looking for somebody and for some bizarre reason, he seems to think she can help.  All she has to do is say no, and she can go back to her safe little existence.  That’s exactly what she needs to do and she knows it.

Too bad she’s not very good at following her own advice.

Damon’s Valentine

Word of warning… technically, this piece is out of time.  If I followed the story’s timeline, we’d be roughly in April.  But, well, just work with it.  I wanted him to give her a Valentine.  It sounded fun.

Also, this is just for fun–I wrote it in about fifteen minutes and read it through, but I didn’t send it to beta readers or anything so there probably are typos.  That’s fine. Pretty please, don’t feel the need to point them out.  Again, this was just for fun.

~*~

Damon’s Valentine- Damon POV

“What are these?”

I looked at the flowers, feeling more than a little stupid as Kit stared at them.  Her pretty green eyes were confused.  Scowling, I shoved them into her hands.  “They’re called flowers.”

“I know that.”  She stroked a finger down the petal of one, her frown fading away.  But she didn’t smile.

I’d wanted to see her smile.

She didn’t do it enough.  Not anymore.  Not since—

Rage was a living, breathing thing in me and I had to wrap a stranglehold around it, shove into a box and smash it down.  Don’t.  If you go there, she’s gonna see.  Calm the fuck down.  “I had to go into Orlando.  There were all these cards and shit.  It’s Valentine’s Day.  I just thought…”

Now she looked up, her gaze meeting mine.

“Valentine’s Day.”  Now she smiled, but it was a weird one.  She took a step toward me.  My heart started to beat faster.  My dick twitched—it’s like a reflex.  Sometimes she just looks at me and it happens.  “You ever hear any of the real history behind it?”

“No.”  I didn’t care.  She’d smiled.  Even if it was over something weird, she’d smiled.  Lifting my hand, I rested it on the curve of her neck.  I felt the ridges hidden under the ink—poisoned flowers, a broken blade.  Stroking my thumb along the hollow of her throat, I waited.  Her faint smile widened into a dark, slightly twisted grin and I wanted to cover that wide, wicked mouth.  Taste her. Strip her.

“Valentine was some kind of priest.”

That had the fantasy I’d been spinning stalling—it didn’t fade.  It just slowed down.  “Valentine—he was a real guy?”

“Yeah.  It’s human stuff so I don’t know much about him, but they threw him in jail.  He was performing marriages or something, if I remember right.  Then they killed him.”  She lowered her head, studied the flowers.  “Trust humans to make up some sort weird holiday over a guy being jailed, then killed.”

She’d gone still, in that way she did when she started to remember.  Fuck.  I’d gone and reminded her.  Not that she needed a reminder.  She lived it.  Bore the scars.  Slowly, I reached down and took the roses.  “Maybe it’s not over him being jailed…but why.  It was for love.  He believed in it, right?”

As I put the flowers down, she looked up at me.  “Wow, Damon.  That’s almost…romantic.  Here you are, giving me flowers, spouting romantic thoughts.”

I tugged her against me.  The feel of her did bad, bad things.  Thought wanted to stop.  I wanted her naked.  Wanted bare skin under my hands.  Wanted her wet and hot as I fucked her.

I cupped her face.  “Maybe I just want you in a good mood.”  I pressed my mouth to hers.  “I probably want something.”

“What?” she asked, her voice wry, although it was going husky. “Let me guess…it involves me naked.”

“I pretty much always want you naked, baby girl.”  I brushed my mouth over hers, felt a growl building in me as she shuddered.

“Maybe we can arrange that.”  She slid her hands down my chest.  My cock jerked like she’d reached inside my pants instead.  She tipped her head, smiling at me once more. “I feel bad.  You bought me a present. I don’t have anything for you.”

“Get naked. That will work.”  I wasn’t about to tell her that all I needed was to see her smile.  Especially not when she was already reaching for the hem of her shirt.   Yeah, I wanted to see her smile…but smiling and naked was even better.

 

Signing this weekend

Hilton Daytona Beach Oceanfront Resort
100 North Atlantic Avenue
Daytona Beach, FL 32118
Ph: 386-254-8200
Fri-Sun

Saturday, Feb 8th

5pm – 7pm

Our 2014 Charity Author Signing will be benefitting Habitat for Humanity. The participating authors are listed below, they include all Featured Authors, and a few authors who will only be at the signing.

You can let us know you’re coming, and share the information with your friends, by checking out the signing’s FB event page!

The signing is a FREE activity, and is open to the public. Even if you’re unable to attend the weekend long convention, we welcome you to come meet the participating authors. Books will be available to purchase at the signing, and a portion of the proceeds will go to our charity partner. Please limit books brought from home to be signed to 3 total. Thank you.

Signing this weekend in Daytona Florida

Hilton Daytona Beach Oceanfront Resort
100 North Atlantic Avenue
Daytona Beach, FL 32118
Ph: 386-254-8200
Fri-Sun

Saturday, Feb 8th

5pm – 7pm

Our 2014 Charity Author Signing will be benefitting Habitat for Humanity. The participating authors are listed below, they include all Featured Authors, and a few authors who will only be at the signing.

You can let us know you’re coming, and share the information with your friends, by checking out the signing’s FB event page!

The signing is a FREE activity, and is open to the public. Even if you’re unable to attend the weekend long convention, we welcome you to come meet the participating authors. Books will be available to purchase at the signing, and a portion of the proceeds will go to our charity partner. Please limit books brought from home to be signed to 3 total. Thank you.

ConFusion Schedule…Detroit

I’m attending my first ConFusion this weekend. It’s in Detroit. In January. I’m going to freeze.

But I’ll have fun while I freeze. I’m kinda excited, and kinda nervous. I’ve only attended one other con and that was a very last minute thing. This is also my first *J.C.* appearance. Now I’m really nervous. Oy.

If you’re going, here’s where I’ll be.

Missed Trends in Urban Fantasy

Lucy A. Snyder, Christian Klaver, Mike Underwood, Courtney Moulton, J. C. Daniels

9am Saturday – Erie

Sometimes an idea fails to find an audience, or zeitgeist just zigs when a story zags. For whatever reason, there are a number of unexplored areas of Urban Fantasy that we might want to revisit.

Covers and blurbs for the self published

Sandra Tayler, Janet Harriett, J. C. Daniels, Laura Resnick, Rich Morris, Gretchen Ash

10am Saturday – Erie

One of the benefits of working with a publisher is all that they do to promote the book. Blurbs, reviews, and cover art do a lot to sell a book. When seeking to self publish, these aspects are just as important. This panel will discuss some of the best strategies for getting the most out of your options with marketing your work.

Legendary Romance

Jacqueline Carey, Sarah Zettel, J. C. Daniels, Sam Sykes, Merrie Haskell

4pm Saturday – Southfield

The Trojan War was fought for the love of one woman. Arthurian legend would be incomplete without the love stories. Quests are often undertaken due to an underlying romance, but our popular understanding of genre and various authors’ place within and among them seems to lose sight of this fact. Why is one writer’s love story paranormal romance, while another’s is a tale of fantasy?

How is Twitter changing writing?

Sam Sykes, J. C. Daniels, Carrie Harris, Kameron Hurley, John Klima

6pm Saturday – Rotunda

More than many other social media, Twitter allows anyone to interact with their favorite pop culture icons. A fan might tweet about a dream where she was rescued by Nathan Fillion only to have him respond with a “you’re welcome”. In this landscape, communication between and among fans and authors is in flux, breaking new ground and knocking down walls without apparent effort. How has this impact helped and hurt the speculative fiction landscape, and how will it continue to do so into the near future? You are encouraged to live tweet this panel.

J. C. Daniels – Ask Me Anything
1pm Sunday – Rotunda

Author J. C. Daniels is ready to talk about her writing, her reading habits, her upcoming publishing schedule, and her experience self-publishing Urban Fantasy.

Finally…BROKEN BLADE hitting print soon

(cross posted with my regular blog)

Sadly, the print aspect of self-publishing is a nightmare for me.  I use createspace because it’s the simplest method, but things kept going wrong this time around so it took longer than planned, and for that, I am sorry.

But I finally got the file all nice and pretty – the files for print and ebook are so not the same, just in case people wonder why they can’t just take a file from an old out of print book and slap it into e format.  I can now tell you that from experience (and bleeding eyeballs).

It’s available to order now on Createspace here and will be at Amazon in about a week.  Now, I dunno why, but it takes it about 4-6 weeks longer to get to other avenues.  I have no control over that.  If there was another option out there that was as easy to use as Createspace that would get the book to just as many avenues, I’d go with them, but so far, Createspace has just proven to be the easiest and I need the most idiot-proof method I can find.

If you want to keep an eye out for it, the ISBN

0989460517 / 9780989460514

Retail price is $10.99