Meghan Ciana Doidge

For 12 years, I had managed to separate my personal life from my professional life, becoming one of the best reconstructionists in the world - and proving to myself that I could do so on my own merits. Then I’d been forced into contact with my family....

I’d given myself and Sisu 12 days to get settled into our new life before tackling my first official day as the head archivist of the magical archives at the National Museum of Ireland....

The day I turned 19, I expected to gain what little freedom I could within the restrictions of my bank account and the hallucinations that had haunted me for the last six years. I'd seen terrible, fantastical, and utterly impossible things...but not love. Not until I saw him....

I never got involved in the dirt and the details of an investigation. I never let my preconceptions muddy a reconstruction....

I’d been compromised, then turned against those I loved. But no one controlled me. No one took anything I didn’t willingly offer. Not for long, anyway. If the elves wanted a war, I’d bring it. The instruments of assassination would come out to play....

Two more elves were at large in Vancouver, but thankfully they’d been keeping a low profile while I faced the most daunting task of my twenty-seven years — planning and executing my wedding. I was dealing with a disgruntled grandmother with an extensive guest wish list of the magically inclined....

I had everything I’d ever wanted — a successful business with a second bakery in the works, a sexy fiance who I adored, and good friends who loved to laugh almost as much as I did. So of course it couldn’t possibly last....

I preferred it when life came in tidy packages. When it didn’t — when something went awry — I was exceedingly skilled at packaging it back up. It was my job to do so after all. I was a reconstructionist....

I had new cupcakes to bake, a new treasure to hunt, and a new dragon in town—literally. Who wouldn’t be ecstatic filling their days with chocolate, trinket collecting, and martial arts training? Yeah…me....

Three months ago, I nearly lost my best friend while retrieving the first instrument of assassination. I also inadvertently released a rival who was definitely unhinged....

I hadn’t set foot in the human world for more than a few hours in over three and a half months. Sure, I was stronger and faster than I’d ever been before, and I had a shiny new sword, but I was seriously chocolate deprived....

Three months ago, I lost my foster sister, Sienna, to the darkness. As in blood magic, chaos and, general mayhem. No one saw it until it was too late, but I should have. Now, I have a wounded heart and soul that I can’t even reveal to anyone around me, because I’m supposed to hate Sienna....

I wasn’t even remotely interested in collecting the third instrument of assassination. It was far better for everyone involved—and for Warner, specifically—if I just let it be. And since I was the only one who could retrieve the artifacts, I figured it was my call to make....

If you’d asked me a week ago, I would have told you that the best cupcakes were dark chocolate with chocolate cream cheese icing, that dancing in a crowd of magic wielders—the Adept—was better than sex, and that my life was peaceful and uneventful. Just the way I liked it....

We had run. We had adapted. And when our magic came back, we changed course again. Hiding instead of running, knowing that we needed to remain hidden from the Collective. Knowing that our lives, our freedom, depended on it. Then the sorcerer showed up, drained and disoriented....

I’d led a deadly squad of genetically enhanced, uber-powerful magic wielders through life-threatening missions multiple times in the first 21 years of my life....

Here be an oracle. Despair all ye who seek her. Magic will have its cake and eat it, too. Okay, well. So I was mixing metaphors. I was new to the gig. But as far as I could tell, there were three kinds of people....

I knew that opening the letter from the sorcerer Azar would have deadly consequences. So we had prepared. We’d planned. We knew we might have to defend ourselves, our freedom....

A masked gala. A solstice celebration with the werewolves. Broken relics and doorways leading not only to other realms, other mythical and magical creatures, but to other possible futures. For me, and maybe even for Kellan. That’s all just another day at the office for me....

We had chosen our place, etching our lives into a new land. Then, we had defended that land when called upon to do so. And we’d won. We’d maintained our freedom. But magic attracts magic. As they say....