The Devil Inside: Act IV by JD Glass
JD Glass | The Devil Inside: Act IV | When the jaws of the trap snap shut, what does Devi put first–self or Jessica? But no matter what, for the plotters, there’s Hell to pay.
JD Glass | The Devil Inside: Act IV | When the jaws of the trap snap shut, what does Devi put first–self or Jessica? But no matter what, for the plotters, there’s Hell to pay.
JD Glass | The Devil Inside: Act III | The plot is afoot and Devi wants to protect Jessica from whatever mayhem come–but Jessica isn’t unprepared. After all, she is in Hell, and dealing wi
JD Glass | The Devil Inside: Act II | Whatever could the Devil be jealous of? Could it be the subject of Jessica Mayfair’s last famous interview, the sexy Valkyrie, Skalmöld? While Jessica
JD Glass | The Devil Inside: Act I | Devi has an interview to complete, and a public image to maintain. But before she meets the journalist–who’s known for giving good interview–she has
Kate Merrill | Murder At Midterm | One year after President McDonald’s election, sculptor Amanda Rittenhouse and her psychiatrist lover Sara Orlando remain devastated by the nationalist
Kate Merrill | Homicide in Hatteras | When Amanda Rittenhouse’s new girlfriend, psychiatrist Sara Orlando, convinces her to hire one of her patients to bake a wedding cake, Amanda can’t sa
Kate Merrill | Murder At Metrolina | Artist Amanda Rittenhouse is a genius at refashioning old twisted metal into unique sculpture. But the twists of fate in her own life are a lot more c
Kate Merrill | Assault in Asheville | When Amanda Rittenhouse feels betrayed by her partner Sara, she flees to the festive mountain town of Asheville, NC with Gina, a predatory stranger wi
Laina Villeneuve | Cowgirl 101 | What Jo Harding loves most about the summer is being able to retreat from annoying humans. Though her friends say she’d be happier with someone sleepi
Gabrielle Hamilton | Blood, Bones & Butter | “I wanted the lettuce and eggs at room temperature . . . the butter-and-sugar sandwiches we ate after school for snack . . . the marrow bones my mothe