Showing results by author "W. R. Gingell" in All Categories

When you get up in the morning, the last thing you expect to see is a murdered guy hanging outside your window. Things like that tend to draw the attention of the local police, and when you're squatting in your parents' old house until you can afford to buy it, another thing you can't afford is the attention of the cops. Oh yeah. Hi. My name is Pet. It's not my real name, but it's the only one you're getting.

I'm not supposed to push through the boundaries of reality without supervision. I'm definitely not meant to drag a cop Between with me. But stuff happens, you know? Hi. I'm Pet. Well, not Pet, exactly. I am a pet. Nothing too hard; I just cook and clean for the Behindkind who took over my house. Easy. But now one of my owners has gone missing. He's fae, so it shouldn't worry me, but if there's something out there that can kidnap fae, I don't wanna meet it. Good thing I've got another two owners and a spare cop up my sleeve....

Don't get too close to humans. That's rule number one. Well, it is if you're an emotionally constipated fae lord. As far as I'm concerned, the vampire could do a better job of keeping his distance, but he's never been that good at following the rules. G'day. I'm Pet. Schrödinger's Pet, these days; depends who's asking. I'm human, but when you hang around with enough Behindkind, it starts getting dangerous for the other humans around you. Humans like my friend Morgana. I tried to stay away, but now she needs my help and don't-get-too-close-to-humans isn't exactly gunna cut it anymore.

Two fae is company, but a company of fae is trouble. Which is exactly what we've got. Trouble, I mean. Well, and fae. Lots of fae. Something or someone is stalking and killing high-level fae around Hobart-tearing out hearts and leaving a trail of bloody bodies behind. Fae don't like it when they're the ones getting killed, so of course they came to hire my owners. Owners, you ask? Hi. I'm Pet. No, that's not my name. I am a pet. My owners? They're fae. Well, two fae and one stroppy vampire. Welcome to the world Between.

G'day. I'm still here. Still Pet. Well, I'm only two thirds of a Pet these days, but you might as well call me Pet anyway. Everyone does: everyone but the vampire, that is. Life is more unbalanced these days - cases are cutting closer to home than usual. I thought I was the only one, but there are others like me: kids whose parents were murdered just like mine. Stuff that never fit into place before is beginning fall into place.

Life is complicated. I mean, life has always been complicated, but there's a difference between monsters-are-trying-to-kill-you complications and monsters-are-in-love-with-you complications. I'm still not sure which is more dangerous. G'day. I'm Pet. Two-thirds of a pet, anyway: The vampire isn't claiming ownership these days, but he's definitely encroaching. On the list of other encroaching complications is the threat of heirling trials, a certain fae lord, and a mysterious librarian - not to mention the thing that's killing people on Hobart's waterfront....

G'day. I'm Pet. Not, not Pet - I am a pet. Well, I was a pet: I used to belong to two fae and a stroppy vampire. Now I'm homeless. I mean, I was always technically homeless, but this time it's different. I just got used to having some kind of family, and now we're back to everyone wanting to kill each other - and guess who the weak link is? I'll give you a hint: it's not the vampire, and it's sure as heck not the fae.

G'day. I'm not really a pet anymore, but you might as well keep calling me Pet. It's not like I'm gunna tell you my name anyway. And if I sound stroppy, well, I am. First, I was threatened. Now, someone has cut off my house from the human world and left my emotional support vampire on the human side. On the inside, it's just me and an emotionally compromised fae; outside, a closed arena in the world Behind, where everyone is out to kill us and a few of that everyone might actually be capable of it.

I have a lot of names these days—including my own, real name. Unfortunately for me, someone else knows that name too; not to mention the names of my other heirling friends. Now those heirling friends have disappeared, stolen by the current King Behind for a fight to the death where only one contender to the throne remains.

The Glass Elder wants wishes. Three, to be exact. Athelas wants a way in, and those wishes may well be that way—but giving the Elder what he wants means putting Camellia in harm's way. It also means that YeoWoo will have to choose between trusting Athelas one last time, and taking a bite at suddenly hot revenge that could swiftly go cold if she misses her chance. Now that revenge is within reach of her teeth, will YeoWoo manage to tear out one last, bloody heart? Can Athelas put aside his own ends for long enough to protect all those dearest to him from threats outside—and from himself?

There's a body beneath the skip bins. Fae on the forklift. A vampire in the manager's office. And there's definitely something skeevy going on in the locker rooms. Hi. I'm Pet. Well, not exactly Pet. I am a pet. I was meant to stay out of it, but somebody's gotta do something when humans are being killed by Behindkind creatures.

The world Between is full of dangers, shadows, and reflections. Athelas knows the dangers, is one with the shadows—and has finally encountered a reflection that could be just a bit too much like himself for comfort. The house master has come back. Nobody will quite say who he is, or why he owns the house. And to Athelas's growing irritation, no one will talk about the oddly powerful influence the house master seems to have over Camellia.

What is a maiden to do when her prince is not a prince, her hair won’t stop growing, and someone has cursed her to sleep for 300 years? In Polyhymnia’s case, it seems expedient to get up with the help of a kiss or two, trailing her hair behind her, and find out who did it. Nothing quite works out as planned, however, and Poly can’t be sure if that’s because she never seems to be able to remember things like the mysterious spindle that keeps showing up around her, or if it’s the fault of the wizard who woke her but never stops long enough to explain anything.

Hot on the tails of the gumiho who slaughtered her family, YeoWoo instead stumbles over the battered and broken body of a merman who knows just a little bit too much about her quarry. It should be simple to keep Marazul both alive and useful, but although YeoWoo is successful in the former, the latter is a different tail. YeoWoo has always taken what she wanted in blood and force. Athelas has always gained what he needed by deception and manipulation. With their usual methods failing at every turn and the investigation swiftly becoming deadly, it's time to make a few changes.

Athelas has always been opposed to having a small possibly cursed Australian boy in the kitchen. When that small boy disappears, however, and Athelas's housekeeper Camellia strongly encourages him to do something about it, he finds himself wavering. YeoWoo wants nothing to do with the disappearing Harrow, cursed or otherwise. Caught up with her own investigation and preparations for revenge, she would prefer her housemates to remain unseen and unheard. Entirely absent is even better. But Athelas and YeoWoo have something in common.

Exiled, excommunicated, and with a bounty on his head, Athelas is lying low in Seoul for exactly one reason: he has a wedding to attend. Whether or not he's welcome is another matter. Luckily for Athelas, several bodies have turned up with their soft insides gnawed out, whether by magic or Behindkind—and the latest of those bodies is at the very wedding hall he has been staking out. The Behindkind investigators suspect one of Athelas's housemates: YeoWoo, a gumiho with a thirst for revenge and an even greater appetite for soft underbelly than Athelas.

At 14, barefoot and running wild, Rose is delighted to be apprenticed to Akiva, the witch of the forest. She thinks it will be all enchantment and excitement, and not so much fuss about baths. The reality is much more sober and practical—that is, until she meets a mysterious wolf in the forest and is tricked into stepping off the path.

King Markon of Montalier is at the end of his tether. His son, Prince Parrin, is afflicted with a rather nasty curse that slaughters, maims, or brutally attacks any woman with whom he so much as flirts. After the rumor that sweeps around the kingdom, promising that any woman breaking the "curse" will be eligible to marry the prince, there is no shortage of willing volunteers. Unfortunately, there is also no shortage of bodies piling up.