By Alex Archer, Jean Rabe
After taking pictures an episode of Chasing History's Monsters at a dig in Australia, Annja Creed is left feeling mildly unimpressed. The artifacts being exposed are thought of fringe via specialists who doubt their authenticity. Annja is dissatisfied via the final loss of secret concerned. yet her boredom is instantly changed with worry while all that's left of her cameraman is a drop of blood on his hotel-room carpet.
As she seems for her good friend, Annja narrowly escapes an assault by way of gunmen. She realizes her cameraman should have captured just like anything so helpful that somebody might kill them for simply having dared examine it. whilst it turns into transparent that everybody at the dig is in danger, Annja starts off to imagine they're at risk no longer due to what they observed, yet who...
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Additional resources for Eternal Journey (Rogue Angel, Book 17)
Your support of the author舗s rights is appreciated. com Chapter One I never used to keep close track of the phases of the moon. So I didn舗t know that it was one night shy of being full when a young woman sat down across from me in McAnally舗s pub and asked me to tell her all about something that could get her killed. 舠No,舡 I said. 舡 I folded the piece of paper, with its drawings of three concentric rings of spidery symbols, and slid it back over the polished oak-wood table. Kim Delaney frowned at me, and brushed some of her dark, shining hair back from her forehead.
I had my suspicions, but I hadn舗t gotten the chance to confront her about them yet. Maybe it wasn舗t anything I舗d done. Maybe the monsters had gone on strike. Yeah, right. The bottom line was I was strapped for cash. I舗d been eating ramen noodles and soup for too many weeks. The steaks Mac had prepared smelled like heaven, even from across the room. My belly protested again, growling its neolithic craving for charred meat. But I couldn舗t just go and eat the dinner without giving Kim the information she wanted.
Maybe it舗s not werewolves. Crazy things happen sometimes. 舡 I gave her half of a smile, which she answered with a faint snort. 舠I舗ll probably be in my office, Dresden,舡 she said. 舡 And then she pulled out of the parking lot, turning quickly out onto the street. I didn舗t get into the Beetle. Instead, I watched the car that had followed us into the parking lot. It cruised around the far side of the lot, then started down the row, toward me, and kept on going. The driver, a striking woman with shaggy, dark brown hair, peppered with grey, did not turn to look at me as she went past.