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The Problem with Power
by Agnes Jayne
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Genre: Paranormal
ISBN: TBD
Length: Novel
Publication Date: TBA
Cover art by Ash Arcenaux
Emily VonPeer hopes that she never meets the man of her dreams. For years, she's been haunted by visions of an unknown lover destined to die in her arms. When her aunt's death brings her home to her family's estate in Upstate New York, she meets Nicholas Flynn, an agent of Paladin, an enterprise dedicated to the study and eradication of demons, and the hero of her nighttime fantasies. He arrives on her doorstep seeking answers for a slew of magically-related murders tied to the VonPeer family.
Although his intentions are suspect, Emily follows Nicholas into the investigation, hoping to spare him the fate promised by her premonitions - at least, that's what she tells herself. When their exchange with a demon goes awry, Emily sustains an injury that threatens to turn her into a monster. Her transformation places her in the crosshairs of sorcerers, senators, and a seductive stranger who promises eternity.
Excerpt
Copyright © 2012 Agnes Jayne
All rights reserved — a Crescent Moon Press publication
Emily watched from the kitchen window as the lights from the far shore played on the waves of the river. She heard the ghost of a voice whisper to her, but she ignored it. The voice would wait until morning. Maybe the sunlight would settle her, stop the spinning in her soul from the flight, the funeral, and the horrible ache that came from the realization that for the first time in her life, she was truly alone. Even the moon had abandoned her; its thin light was concealed by the clouds overhead. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, willing the loop of events to stop flashing through her mind, yet the pictures remained sharp as blades, begging her to remember, to fight, to avenge. But she didn’t know how or where to start. She only knew why. A single word popped into her mind: murder.
Even now, the idea pulsed like blood in her head, but there was nothing that she could do. Someone had stolen the only thing that mattered from her, and at twenty-six years old she was, once again, an orphan.
It’ll be better in the morning, she thought.
She pulled the edges of Aunt Maeve’s bathrobe closer; it was a shade too tight across the shoulders. She went to bed searching her mind for a shred of meaning or a moment of significance to light her path. All she found was a memory.
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