By Michael Angel
"This shrewdpermanent, funny fable springs to existence from web page one..." -- Publisher's Weekly
Dayna Chrissie, the major Crime Scene Analyst for the LAPD, enjoys not anything greater than discovering the single clue that could clear up a crime.
The day she reveals a golden medallion on a physique that's been dumped at a downtown development website, she doesn't imagine a lot approximately it. till that medallion transports her to the paranormal country of Andeluvia. Dayna discovers that she's been summoned to resolve the homicide of the realm's king, prior to warfare breaks out among Andeluvia and the Centaur Kingdoms.
When the path of facts leads from Andeluvia, again to l. a., Dayna needs to convey all of her forensic ability to endure with a purpose to clear up the case. the cost of failure? A battle that would kill hundreds of thousands and devastate either lands.
Hope she works top stressed.
Read or Download Centaur of the Crime (Fantasy and Forensics, Book 1) PDF
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Additional info for Centaur of the Crime (Fantasy and Forensics, Book 1)
As soon as that happened, Kaladin’s squad broke into a dash, running out into the front at full speed. Cenn scrambled to keep up, panicked and terrified. The ground wasn’t as smooth as it had seemed, and he nearly tripped on a hidden rockbud, vines withdrawn into its shell. He righted himself and kept going, holding his spear in one hand, his shield clapping against his back. The distant army was in motion as well, their soldiers charging down the field. There was no semblance of a battle formation or a careful line.
Gifts of their god, granted to allow them to fight horrors of rock and flame, dozens of feet tall, foes whose eyes burned with hatred. The Voidbringers. When your foe had skin as hard as stone itself, steel was useless. Something supernal was required. Szeth rose from his crouch, loose white clothes rippling, jaw clenched against his sins. He struck out, his weapon flashing with reflected torchlight. Elegant, wide swings. Three of them, one after another. He could neither close his ears to the screams that followed nor avoid seeing the men fall.
Could it be? Szeth turned and dashed back, trusting his instincts. As soon as the Shardbearer saw him, he climbed to his feet with alacrity. Szeth ran faster. What was the safest place for your king? In the hands of some guards, fleeing? Or protected in a suit of Shardplate, left behind, dismissed as a bodyguard? Clever, Szeth thought as the formerly sluggish Shardbearer fell into another battle stance. Szeth attacked with renewed vigor, swinging his Blade in a flurry of strikes. The Shardbearer—the king—aggressively struck out with broad, sweeping blows.