“Do yourself a favor and read this book.  This story is original and hard-hitting with terrific world building and some of the best characters I’ve read.  Yum.” Patricia Briggs, author of the #1 NYTimes Mercy Thompson series

August 2012

Kit Colbana—half breed, assassin, thief, jack of all trades—has a new job: track down the missing ward of one of the local alpha shapeshifters. It should be a piece of cake.

So why is she so nervous? It probably has something to do with the insanity that happens when you deal with shifters—especially sexy ones who come bearing promises of easy jobs and easier money.

Or maybe it’s all the other missing kids that Kit discovers while working the case, or the way her gut keeps screaming she’s gotten in over her head. Or maybe it’s because if she fails—she’s dead.

If she can stay just one step ahead, she should be okay. Maybe she’ll even live long to collect her fee…



I carried a picture of Doyle in my back pocket.

I’d made a copy and tucked it in my pocket the day I accepted the case.

Maybe it was silly, but I wanted to remember what I was risking my life for. Who.

A kid.

A nervous, scared kid who wasn’t even sure he could survive the change from human to were.

He had blond hair, sleepy-looking eyes and the promise of what would be a killer smile. So much promise. And what was more…he had kind eyes. The kindness in his eyes hadn’t been lost on me.

It seemed that the cat shifters could use with more kindness in their ranks.

It pissed me off that somebody who might have been one of the nice ones could be lost to them.

I knew his face now. He was mine. I’d do everything I could to find him and if I couldn’t find him, it would be because there was nothing left to be found.

On the way down to the cold lower level of Banner HQ, I slid my hand into my pocket and tugged out the picture of Doyle, rubbing it with my thumb. I didn’t look at it. There was no need. I knew his face well enough now that I could draw his picture. More than once, I’d found myself doing just that.

Would death be kind—?

No. I can’t think like that…can’t, I can’t, I can’t….

A hand came up and closed over my neck as the elevator doors opened. The people trickled out, but before we could follow them, Damon hit the button to shut the doors and then he just held it. “Are you trying to push yourself into a panic attack?” he asked, dipping his head and growling right into my ear.

I drove my elbow into his stomach.

I might as well have been hitting steel for all the good it did.

I did it again anyway.

He swore and spun around, shoving my back against the elevator doors.

My hand itched—bad, bad, bad.

“Listen, little girl,” he snarled.

He reached for me…



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About Blade Song

“Darkly seductive men, a twisty mystery, and a tough-talking, ass-kicking P.I. heroine with unique powers make this romp through a paranormal Florida netherworld a definite winner!”  Author Carolyn Crane, The Disillusionists Series