AEM Library - Publishers

Hell Island

*Captain Shane Schofi eld and his elite team of marines is about to discover . . .*There is no hell like a man-made one.It is an island that doesn’t appear on any maps. A secret location where the government conducts classified experiments. Experiments that have gone terribly wrong. . . . When all contact with the mysterious island is suddenly and inexplicably lost, Captain Shane Schofi eld and four crack Special Forces units parachute in. Nothing prepares them for what they fi nd—the island is a testing ground for a deadly breed of genetically enhanced supersoldiers. You could say they’ve just entered hell, but this place is much, much worse. . . .

About the Author

Matthew Reilly is the international bestselling author of numerous novels, including The Five Greatest Warriors, The Six Sacred Stones, Seven Deadly Wonders, Ice Station, Temple, Contest, Area 7, Scarecrow, the children's book Hover Car Racer, and one novella, Hell Island. His books are published in more than twenty languages in twenty countries, and he has sold more than 4.5 million copies worldwide.

AIRSPACE OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN
1500 HOURS, 1 AUGUST

The vicious-looking airCRaft shot aCRoss the sky at near supersonic speed.

It was a modified Hercules cargo plane, known as an MC-130 “Combat Talon,” the delivery vehicle of choice for U.S. Special Forces units.

This Combat Talon stayed high, very high, it was as if it was trying to avoid being seen by radar systems down at sea level. This was unusual, because there was nothing down there—according to the maps, the nearest land in this part of the Pacific was an atoll 500 klicks to the east.

Then the rear loading ramp of the Combat Talon rumbled open and several dozen tiny figures issued out from it in rapid sequence, spreading out into the sky behind the soaring plane.

The forty-strong flock of paratroopers plummeted to earth, men in high-altitude jumpsuits—full-face breathing masks; streamlined black bodysuits. They angled their bodies downward as they fell, so that they flew head-first, their masks pointed into the onrushing wind, becoming human spears, freefalling with serious intent.

It was a classic HALO drop—high-altitude, low-opening. You jumped from 37,000 feet, fell fast and hard, and then stopped dangerously close to the ground, right at your drop zone.

Curiously, however, the forty elite troops falling to earth today fell in identifiable subgroups, ten men to a group, as if they were trying to remain somehow separate.

Indeed, they were separate teams.

CRack teams. The best of the best from every corner of the U.S. armed forces.

One unit from the 82nd Airborne Division.

One SEAL team.

One Delta team, ever aloof and seCRetive.

And last of all, one team of Force Reconnaissance Marines.

They shot into the cloud layer—a dense band of dark thunderclouds—freefell through the haze.

Then after nearly a full minute of flying, they burst out of the clouds and emerged in the midst of a full-scale five-alarm ocean storm: rain lashed their facemasks; dark clouds hung low over the heaving ocean; giant waves rolled and CRashed.

And through the rain, their target came into view, a tiny island far below them, an island that did not appear on maps anymore, an island with an airCRaft carrier parked alongside it.

Hell.

Leading the Marine team was Captain Shane M. Schofield, call-sign “ScareCRow.”

Behind his HALO mask, Schofield had a rugged CReased face, black hair and blue eyes. Slicing down aCRoss those eyes, however, were a pair of hideous vertical scars, one for eACH eye, wounds from a mission-gone-wrong and the source of his operational nickname. Once on the ground, he’d hide those eyes behind a pair of reflective wraparound anti-flash glasses.

Quiet, intense and when necessary deadly, Schofield had a unique reputation in the Marine Corps. He’d been involved in several missions that remained classified—but the Marine Corps (like any group of human beings) is filled with gossip and rumor. Someone always knew someone who was there, or who saw the medical report, or who cleaned up the aftermath.

The rumors about Schofield were many and varied, and sometimes simply too outrageous to be true.

One: he had been involved in a gigantic multiforce battle in Antarctica, a battle which, it was said, involved a bloody and brutal confrontation with two of America’s allies, France and Britain.

Two: he’d saved the President during an attempted military coup at a remote USAF base. It was said that during that misadventure, the ScareCRow—a former pilot—had flown an experimental space shuttle into low earth orbit, engaged an enemy shuttle, destroyed it, and then come back to earth to rescue the President.

Of course none of this could possibly be verified, and so it remained the stuff of legend; legends, however, that Schofield’s new unit were acutely aware of.

That said, there was one thing about Shane Schofield that they knew to be true: this was his first mission back after a long layover, four months of stress leave, in fact. On this occasion someone really had seen the medical report, and now all of his men on this mission knew about it.

They also knew the cause of his stress leave.

During his last mission out, Schofield had been taken to the very edge of his psychological endurance. Loved ones close to him had been captured . . . and executed. It was even said in hushed whispers that at one point on that mission he had tried to take his own life.

Which was why the other members of his team today were slightly less-than-confident in their leader.

Was he up to this mission? Was he a time-bomb waiting to explode? Was he a basketcase who would lose it at the first sign of trouble?

They were about to find out.

AS HE shot downward through the sky, Schofield recalled their mission briefing earlier that day.

Their target was Hell Island.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true.

Their target was the aging supercarrier parked at Hell Island, the USS Nimitz, CVN-68.

The problem: soon after it had arrived at the isolated island to pick up some special cargo, a devastating tsunami had struck from the north and all contact with the Nimitz had been lost.

The oldest of America’s twelve Nimitz-class carriers, the Nimitz had been heading home for decommissioning, with only a skeleton CRew of 500 aboard—down from its regular 6,000. Likewise, its Carrier Battle Group, the cluster of destroyers, subs, supply ships and frigates that normally accompanied it around the globe, had been trimmed to just two CRuisers.

Contact with the two escort boats and the island’s communications center had also been lost.

Unfortunately, the unexpected tidal wave wasn’t the only hostile entity in play here: a North Korean nuclear submarine had been spotted a day earlier coming out of the Bering Sea. Its whereabouts were currently unknown, its presence in this area suspicious.

And so a mystery.

Equally suspicious to Schofield, however, was the presence of the other special operations units on this mission: the 82nd, the SEALs and Delta.

This was exceedingly odd. You never mixed and matched special ops units. They all had different specialties, different approACHes to mission situations, and could easily trip over eACH other. In short, it just wasn’t done.

You added all that up, Schofield thought, and this smelled suspiciously like an exercise.

Except for one thing.

They were all carrying live ammunition.

Hurtling toward the world, freefalling at terminal velocity, bursting out of the cloudband . . .

. . . to behold the Pacific Ocean stretching away in every direction, the only imperfection in its surface: the small dot of land that was Hell Island.

A gigantic rectangular gray object lay at its western end, the Nimitz. Not far from the carrier, the island featured some big gun emplacements facing south and east, while at the northeastern tip there was a hill that looked like a mini-volcano.

A voice came through Schofield’s earpiece. “All team leaders, this is Delta Six. We’re going for the eastern end of the island and we’ll work our way backto the boat. Your DZ is the flight deck: Airborne, the bow; SEALs, aft; Marines, mid-section.”

Just like we were told in the briefing, Schofield thought.

This was typical of Delta. They were born show-ponies. Great soldiers, sure, but glory-seekers all. No matter who they were working with—even today, alongside three of the best special forces units in the world—they always assumed they were in charge.

“Roger that, Delta leader,” came the SEAL leader’s voice.

“Copy, Delta Six,” came the Airborne response.

Schofield didn’t reply.

The Delta leader said, “Marine Six? ScareCRow? You copy?”

Schofield sighed. “I was at the mission briefing, too, Delta Six. And last I noticed, I don’t have any short-term memory problems. I know the mission plan.”

“Cut the attitude, ScareCRow,” the Delta leader said. His name was Hugh Gordon, so naturally his call-sign was “Flash.” “We’re all on the same team here.”

“What? Your team?” Schofield said. “How about this: how about you don’t break radio silence until you’ve got something important to say. ScareCRow, out.”

It was more important than that. Even a frequency-hopping enCRypted radio signal could be caught these days, so if you transmitted, you had to assume someone was listening.

Worse, the new French-made Signet-5 radio-wave decoder—sold by the French to Russia, Iran, North Korea, Syria and other fine upstanding global citizens—was specifically designed to seek out and locate the American AN/PRC-119 tactical radio when it was broadcasting, the very radio their four teams were using today. No one had yet thought to ask the French why they had built a locater whose only use was to pinpoint American tactical radios.

Schofield switched to his team’s private channel. “Marines. Switch off your tac radios. Listening mode only. Go to short-wave UHF if you want to talk to me.”

A few of his Marines hesitated before obeying, but obey they did. They flicked off their radios.

The four clusters of parACHutists plummeted through the storm toward the world, zeroing in on the Nimitz, until a thousand feet above it, they yanked on their ripcords and their chutes opened.

Their superfast falls were abruptly arrested and they now floated in toward the carrier. The Delta team landed on the island itself, while the other three teams touched down lightly and gracefully on the flight deck of the supercarrier right in their assigned positions—fore, mid and aft—guns up.

They had just arrived in Hell.

RAIN HAMMERED down on the flight deck.

Schofield’s team landed one after the other, unclipping their chutes before the great mushroom-shaped canopies had even hit the ground. The ch...

Shadow's Claim

Kresley Cole

#1 New York Times bestseller Kresley Cole introduces The Dacians: Realm of Blood and Mist, a new paranormal series following the royal bloodline of Dacia, a vampire kingdom hidden within the Lore of the Immortals After Dark.

Shadow’s Claim features Prince Trehan, a ruthless master assassin who will do anything to possess Bettina, his beautiful sorceress mate, even compete for her hand in a blood-sport tournament— to the death.

HE WON’T BE DENIED

Trehan Daciano, known as the Prince of Shadows, has spent his life serving his people—striking in the night, quietly executing any threat to their realm. The coldly disciplined swordsman has never desired anything for himself—until he beholds Bettina, the sheltered ward of two of the Lore’s most fearsome villains.

SHE’S BOUND TO ANOTHER

Desperate to earn her guardians’ approval after a life-shattering mistake, young Bettina has no choice but to marry whichever suitor prevails—even though she’s lost her heart to another. Yet one lethal competitor, a mysterious cloaked swordsman, invades her dreams, tempting her with forbidden pleasure.

A BATTLE FOR HER BODY AND SOUL

Even if Trehan can survive the punishing contests to claim her as his wife, the true battle for Bettina’s heart is yet to come. And unleashing a millennium’s worth of savage need will either frighten his Bride away—or stoke Bettina’s own desires to a fever pitch. . . .

About the Author

Kresley Cole is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Immortals After Dark paranormal series. Her books have been translated into many foreign languages, garnered two RITA awards, and consistently appear on the bestseller lists in the U.S. and abroad. Visit her at KresleyCole.com.

A savage kick to Princess Bettina of Abaddon’s back severed her spinal cord.

A blessing.

The searing pain that had been clawing through her entire being faded below her waist to pinpoints of pressure, then tingles, then . . .

Nothing.

Blessing. She’d long since stopped begging for her life, knew she’d never leave this field of poppies alive.

The four winged monsters who’d dragged her here had plans for her: as much agony as possible before her death.

Just as their kind had delivered to her sorceress mother twenty years before.

Though half demon, Bettina was weak in body, hopeless at fighting. She’d depended on her Sorceri power for protection—the one that these Vrekeners had siphoned from her as easily as they’d snatched the clothes from her body.

No longer could she open her swollen eyes. Her last sight? The leader standing over her, brandishing a scythe, his eyes frenzied. His claw-tipped wings had blocked the light of a low yellow moon. The scythe’s blade wasn’t fashioned out of metal, but of black flame. . . .

Yet Bettina could still hear, was still aware. In the distance, a new age band played in an outdoor arena. Young mortals danced and sang—

The force of one kick jostled her over onto her belly. Her mauled face shoved against crushed poppies. The leader played with her as a hawk would a mouse, ravaging the meat from its bones. His followers jeered and doused her with bottles of spirits.

Menacing yells, steel-toed boots, the blistering sting of alcohol.

Ah, gods, she was too aware. She tried desperately to lose herself in memories of a boy with smiling blue eyes and sun-kissed hair.

He doesn’t know how much I love him. So many things I wish I’d done—

Her upper body exploded with even more pain, as if to compensate for the numbness in her fractured legs. She could perceive her broken ribs jutting from her skin. Her mangled arms draped limply across the ground where they’d fallen when she’d last tried to protect her head. . . . Anguish multiplied.

Or perhaps the Vrekeners’ blows rained down more swiftly. The kill was near.

All she’d wanted was to go to a party with her mortal college friends. She’d been excited, happy to fit in with them, or to appear to—as a halfling, she’d never fit in before. Little did she know that she’d already drawn her enemy’s notice with her sorcery. She’d never intentionally used it—

Over all other pain, she perceived the heat of that burning scythe descending ever closer to her. Hotter, hotter, scorching.

Alcohol on her skin, the black flame . . .

Bettina choked on a sob. They planned to burn her?

Suddenly she felt weightless. This is what dying feels like?

No, she was traveling. Summoned? Dear gods, yes, the demon in her had been summoned across realms. Naked, powerless, sightless, she slipped from that field in the mortal world to her home plane of Abaddon.

In a flash, the poppies were replaced by cold marble, a balm on what was left of her skin. That awareness returned. I’m lying on the floor of my castle’s court, broken, wearing only my blood and the Vrekeners’ rank liquor. The courtiers still gossip and laugh. Can’t they see me?

She tried to scream for help; blood bubbled up over her lips. Can’t scream, can’t move. She could only listen. A conversation between her godfather Raum—the Grand Duke of the Deathly Ones—and another was already under way.

“Now you’ve done it, Raum.” It was Caspion the Tracker. The demon she secretly loved. “Tina hates being summoned with that medallion.” Not at present! “She considers it a leash.”

Her guardians had insisted on it, a condition of her leaving Abaddon.

“Ha! It probably makes her feel more like a demon,” Raum said in a gruff tone, knowing that wasn’t true. They’d had words over his use of the mystical medallion. “Besides, she told me she was coming home from college by month’s end.”

“You know time moves differently in the mortal realm,” Caspion said, amusement lacing his words. “And more, she said she was very busy but would try to visit—”

Bettina heard a courtier gasp. They’ve seen me. Murmurs rose to a furor.

From the front of the court, Caspion demanded, “What is it?” Closer by, he asked, “Who is this pitiful creature? No, no, this isn’t Tina. It can’t be!” A touch on her forehead . . . a sucked in breath of recognition . . . a roar of grief. “Bettina!”

Raum bellowed, “What has happened?”

“Tina, wake up!” Caspion commanded her. “Ah, gods, stay with me. Stay.”

For him, she managed to slit open one eye. His curling blond hair hung over his harried face. His own eyes had gone from midnight blue to black, signaling his emotion. They even started watering as he gazed over her injuries.

She saw a shining hero of old. Her beloved Cas.

He yanked off his warm coat, covering her. “A physic!” he yelled into the crowd. “Now!”

Others gathered around her. She heard Raum stomping closer. “Who’s done this to my little Tina?” Something broke directly. No doubt from his fist. “Damn you, tell me! Who’s hurt her?”

She tried to answer, parting her lips. . . . Her jaw must be broken.

Another anguished roar. Oh, Cas.

Visibly making an effort to control himself, he said, “You hang on and stay with me.”

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.

“I’ll get you through this, Tina. I swear it. You’re going to be all right,” he said, his voice thick. “Don’t leave me.”

Bettina felt the tiniest sliver of hope, something to fight for. Surely Cas returned her feelings, saw her as more than a little sister.

“Will she live?” Raum bit out. “She’s not hardy like a demoness, not strong like we are.”

She hadn’t been a true demon before. Now she was no longer a true sorceress. They took my root power. My soul.

A male she didn’t recognize asked, “Has she frozen into her immortality?” The physic?

Cas answered, “She was on the cusp. Maybe by now . . .”

“We need a Sorceri healer. If we act quickly, the princess could recover,” the physic said, but hastily qualified his statement: “Her body could recover from this.”

What did that mean?

Raum ordered, “Find Tina’s godmother! Don’t return from the Sorceri plane without Morgana!” Coming into Bettina’s line of vision, Raum yelled to Cas, “I should never have let her go! I was too lenient! Things will change in Abaddon!” His eyes were glinting, his voice choked up. The crusty old warrior was at a loss. He began ramming his horns against a stone wall, roaring to everyone, “Heed my words! We return to olden ways!”

Free of the attack, Bettina’s body started trying to regenerate, nerves sparking to life once more. Pain erupted all over her, blistering waves of it.

Even in the midst of her escalating agony and lingering horror, the words olden ways struck fear in her heart.

Prince Trehan Daciano shot awake in the middle of the day, bolting upright from his pallet of furs.

He gazed around in confusion, seeing his usual surroundings—shelves of books, weapons, his sideboard with carafes of mead-laced blood.

Though he’d experienced no nightmare, sleep had been snatched from him, replaced by a marked unease. With each moment, he grew even more on edge, a feeling like . . . like emptiness settling in his chest.

Like dread. So different from his usual numbness.

Brows drawn, he rose, tracing across the spacious room to one of the curtained balconies.

These grand apartments had once been the royal library. Centuries ago, he’d moved in and never moved out, haunting this place until no other member of the family would enter.

Time and history seeped from these familiar stones. He knew every crag and groove as well as he knew his own grim reflection. Like these stones, I quietly endure the ages.

Drawing back the thick curtain, he gazed outside. From this height, Trehan could survey far into the Realm of Blood and Mist, the secreted lands of the mighty Dacians.

The royal city below was still at this hour. Only the sound of Dacia’s bubbling blood fountains could be heard.

Across from his residence stood the majestic black stone castle, the heart of the realm—abandoned without a king. How many of his kinsmen had perished trying to seize that keep? How much deceit and murder surrounded it?

The warring houses of the royal family had once boasted hundreds of members each—now dwindled down to a handful.

For an immortal family, they knew death so well.

Trehan was the last born to the House of Shadow, the assassin arm of the family. Though he was a potential contender for the crown—along with four of his lethal cousins—he had no real aspiration to seize it. A quiet loner by nature, he loathed spectacle and attention, was content to blend into the shadows.

He only wanted to perform his duty. For nearly a millennium, he’d been the enforcer of law, a merciless assassin.

As his long-dead father had oft told him, “You are the sword of the kingdom, Trehan. Dacia will be your family, your friend, your mistress, the grand love of your life. That is your lot, Son. Want for nothing else. And you will never be disappointed.”

Trehan had once foolishly entertained secret hopes, but he’d eventually embraced his father’s teachings. As was logical.

I want for not...

Deadly Sting

Jennifer Estep

Poison Promise

Jennifer Estep

In book eleven of her New York Times bestselling Elemental Assassin series, author Jennifer Estep continues “one of the best urban fantasy series going on the market” (Fresh Fiction).

Gin Blanco is hard-nosed, sexy, and lethal. Nicknamed “The Spider,” she’s a stone elemental assassin who brings her unique mix of magic and tact to every assignment, no matter the target.

There’s a new drug on the streets of Ashland, and its name “Burn” sums up the potent effect it has on its users. When one of her restaurant employees is threatened by dealers of the drug, Gin steps in to set things straight…

Unraveled

Jennifer Estep

After the shocking revelations of the previous book, Bitter Bite, the world of Ashland's become even more sinister, and Gin Blanco (aka Ashland's most fearsome assassin, the Spider) no longer knows who—or what—she can count on. Only one thing is for certain: danger and new enemies await Gin in Unraveled, Book 15 in the New York Times bestselling Elemental Assassin urban fantasy series that RT Book Reviews calls "unbeatable entertainment!"
What could go wrong when you're trying to unravel a decades-old conspiracy?

As the current queen of the Ashland underworld, you would think that I, Gin Blanco, would know all about some secret society controlling things from behind the scenes. I might be the Spider, the city's most fearsome assassin, but all my Ice and Stone elemental magic hasn't done me a lick of good in learning more about "the Circle". Despite my continued investigations, the trail's gone as cold as the coming...

Snared

Jennifer Estep

The sixteenth book in the New York Times bestselling Elemental Assassin urban fantasy series that RT Book Reviews calls, "An extraordinary series...[containing] one of the most intriguing heroines in the genre."

If you don't know Gin "the Spider" Blanco, you don't know dangerous female heroines.
Irony 101—The Spider herself snared in someone else's web...

Another week, another few clues trickling in about the Circle, the mysterious group that supposedly runs the city's underworld. Gathering intel on my hidden enemies is a painstaking process, but a more immediate mystery has popped up on my radar: a missing girl.

My search for the girl begins on the mean streets of Ashland, but with all the killers and crooks in this city, I'm not holding out much hope that she's still alive.

A series of clues leads me down an increasingly dark, dangerous path, and I realize that the missing girl is really just the first thread in this web...

Thread of Death

Jennifer Estep

Product Description

Gin Blanco, aka the assassin the Spider, might have finally killed her nemesis, Mab Monroe, but that doesn’t mean that it’s smooth sailing. Gin goes to Mab’s funeral to say her goodbyes and runs into some of Ashland’s most notorious underworld power players, including Jonah McAllister and Phillip Kincaid. McAllister wants her dead, and Kincaid has his own murky motives when it comes to the Spider, and Gin once again finds herself fighting for her life. Only this time, she might wind up in the cemetery right next to Mab….

The Spider

Jennifer Estep

Bitter Bite

Jennifer Estep

It’s not easy being queen bee of an underworld abuzz with crooks and killers. Wielding my potent Ice and Stone elemental magic will only get me so far—my real secret is my tight-knit makeshift family, a motley crew of cops and criminals, dwarves and playboys. My foster brother Finnegan Lane is my right-hand man, but when his suddenly not-dead relative comes back into the picture, I’m the one on the outside looking in.

It’s funny how life works: one minute your best friend is rock-steady, and the next he’s doe-eyed and buying into this whole loving-relative routine to the point of ignoring you. I’d like to be happy for Finn, I really would. But all of my instincts are telling me that beneath the syrupy sweet demeanor and old-fashioned charm, this sudden interloper is planning something. The whole shtick leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. This person might have avoided the grave once, but I’ll put anyone who hurts Finn in the ground—for good.

Spider's Trap

Jennifer Estep

Keep your friends close but your enemies within stabbing distance.

One important lesson I’ve learned in the assassination business is that to be the best you have to roll with the punches. Now that I’m queen of Ashland’s underworld—by default, not by choice—a lot more punches are being thrown my way. But I suppose that’s the price of victory for taking down some of the underworld’s top dogs. Good thing I have my Ice and Stone magic to help me survive my volatile new position. Just when I think things are finally settling down, someone tries to murder me during a hush-hush underworld meeting. But the real surprise is how strangely familiar my shadowy assailant seems to be.

My job is to maintain order among killers, crooks, and thieves, and soon I’m embroiled in a bloody game where the ability to keep secrets could be the greatest superpower of all. My enemies have all sharpened their knives and laid their traps, waiting for me to fall. But this Spider weaves her own webs of death…

Spider's Revenge

Jennifer Estep

Old habits die hard for assassins.

And I plan on murdering someone before the night is through.

Killing used to be my regular gig, after all. Gin Blanco, aka the Spider, assassin-for-hire. And I was very, very good at it. Now, I’m ready to make the one hit that truly matters: Mab Monroe, the dangerous Fire elemental who murdered my family when I was thirteen. Oh, I don’t think the mission will be easy, but turns out it’s a bit more problematic than expected. The bitch knows I’m coming for her. So now I’m up against the army of lethal bounty hunters Mab hired to track me down. She also put a price on my baby sister’s head. Keeping Bria safe is my first priority. Taking Mab out is a close second. Good thing I’ve got my powerful Ice and Stone magic—and my irresistible lover, Owen Grayson—to watch my back. This battle has been years in the making, and there’s a good chance I won’t survive. But if I’m going down, then Mab’s coming with me . . . no matter what I have to do to make that happen.

Review

“This series kicked off with a bang, and the action hasn’t let up since.” —Fresh Fiction

“Estep is rapidly heading toward the top of the urban fantasy genre!” —Romantic Times

“Gin Blanco is one of the most intriguing heroines on the scene. . . . If you have not gotten on the bandwagon yet, do so today!” —RT Book Reviews

About the Author

Jennifer Estep is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author prowling the streets of her imagination in search of her next fantasy idea. Spider’s Bite, Web of Lies, Venom, Tangled Threads, Spider’s Revenge, the eNovella “Thread of Death,” By a Thread, Widow’s Web, and Deadly Sting are the other titles in her Elemental Assassin urban fantasy series for Pocket Books. She also writes the Mythos Academy young adult urban fantasy series. For more on Jennifer and her books, visit her at JenniferEstep.com and @Jennifer_Estep.

Venom

Jennifer Estep

What kind of assassin works pro bono?

It’s hard to be a badass assassin when a giant is beating the crap out of you. Luckily, I never let pride get in the way of my work. My current mission is personal: annihilate Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental who murdered my family. Which means protecting my identity, even if I have to conceal my powerful Stone and Ice magic when I need it most. To the public, I’m Gin Blanco, owner of Ashland’s best barbecue joint. To my friends, I’m the Spider, retired assassin. I still do favors on the side. Like ridding a vampire friend of her oversized stalker—Mab’s right-hand goon who almost got me dead with his massive fists. At least irresistible Owen Grayson is on my side. The man knows too much about me, but I’ll take my chances. Then there’s Detective Bria Coolidge, one of Ashland’s finest. Until recently, I thought my baby sister was dead. She probably thinks the same about me. Little does she know, I’m a cold-blooded killer . . . who is about to save her life.

Review

"Estep has really hit her stride with the gritty and compelling Elemental Assassin series. She surrounds her fascinating and complex heroine with a cadre of supporting players, each of whom are intriguing in their own right. Brisk pacing and knife-edged danger make this an exciting page-turner. Kudos to Estep, who is rapidly heading toward the top of the urban fantasy genre!"

Romantic Times Top Pick, 4 1/2 stars

"Gin is an assassin to die for."

Adrian Phoenix, author of Etched in Bone

" A raw, gritty, compelling walk on the wild side, one that had me hooked from the first page."

New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh, on SPIDER'S BITE

About the Author

Jennifer Estep is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author prowling the streets of her imagination in search of her next fantasy idea. Spider’s Bite, Web of Lies, Venom, Tangled Threads, Spider’s Revenge, the eNovella “Thread of Death,” By a Thread, Widow’s Web, and Deadly Sting are the other titles in her Elemental Assassin urban fantasy series for Pocket Books. She also writes the Mythos Academy young adult urban fantasy series. For more on Jennifer and her books, visit her at JenniferEstep.com and @Jennifer_Estep.

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Crafty Games

Crown

Del Rey

Delacorte Press

Disney Hyperion

Diversion Books

Doubleday

Dragonsteel Entertainment, LLC

EgmontUSA

Entangled Publishing

Entangled Publishing, LLC

Entangled Teen

ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)

ePubLibre

FanFiction.net

Fawcett

Fawcett Gold Medal Books

Flatiron Books

G. P. Putnam's Sons

G. P. Putnam's Son's

G.P. Putnam's Sons

G.P.Putnam's Sons

Gallery / Saga Press

Gallery Books

Gallup Press

Gigantic Weapons Corporation

Gollancz

Grand Central Publishing

GWC

Hachette Book Group USA

Hachette UK

Harlequin

Harper Collins, Inc.

HarperCollins

HarperCollins Publishers

HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

HarperCollins US

HarperTorch

HarperVoyager