Pocket
Full of Tinder
Noon
Onyx
Book
4
Jill
Archer
Genre:
Fantasy
Publisher:
Black Willow
Word
Count: ~ 85,000
Author
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Description:
Noon
Onyx is back! In this long-awaited fourth installment, Jill Archer
returns readers to the dangerous world of Halja, where demons,
angels, and humans coexist in an uneasy state of détente.
Maegester-in-Training
Noon Onyx feels like she’s done it all – mastered fiery magic,
become an adept fighter, learned the law, killed countless demons,
and survived having her heart broken by both love and an arrow, but
now she’ll face her greatest challenge yet…
Far
to the north lies an outpost famous for its unrest – Rockthorn
Gorge. The town’s patron has specifically requested Noon’s help.
Her assignment? Help the neophyte demon lord build his fiefdom and
keep what’s his. The problem? Lord Aristos – Noon’s new
employer – is her erstwhile lover, Ari Carmine, the aforementioned
heartbreaker. And the number one thing he wants is her.
When
Rockthorn Gorge’s viaduct is destroyed by Displodo, an enigmatic
bomber, killing a dozen settlers and wounding scores more, Noon sets
off early to aid in the search and rescue. Ari is listed among the
missing and the suspects are legion. But Noon’s search is just the
beginning. Her journey forces Noon to confront not only those she
loves, but also enemies hell-bent on destroying them.
Excerpt
POCKET
FULL OF TINDER
Noon
Onyx #4
The claw-and-ball
had been chewed clean off. It lay on a patch of sunny parquet floor,
just to the right of an antique, aubergine wool rug now covered with
the splintered remnants of an eleventh century pedestal table and one
very large, ghastly looking, somewhat repentant barghest.
Nova’s head rested
on her front paws as her gaze shifted warily from me to Miss Bister,
Megiddo’s dormater,
or house mother.
“Megiddo’s lobby
is not a kennel, Miss Onyx. That”—she motioned dismissively
toward Nova—“beast
can no longer be housed here.”
I opened my mouth to
respond, but Miss Bister continued speaking, her tone rising only
infinitesimally, her back as stiff as Luck’s lance must have been,
and her expression just as hard. She pointed toward the previously
priceless, three-footed piece of furniture that was now a worthless,
two-footed pile of kindling.
“No amount of
money – or magic – can fix that,
Nouiomo. It’s beyond repair. I warned you. I made an exception to
my ‘no pets’ rule because you never cause trouble. You never
forget your key; you promptly pick up your deliveries; you change
your own light bulbs; you double bag your trash. You leave nothing
behind in the bathroom; you don’t monopolize the washing machines;
you are exceedingly polite to the lift operator; you don’t sing in
the shower.”
I suppressed a sigh.
After a year and a half of painstaking efforts, harrowing
experiences, and endless hours of education, my worth had just been
measured by the fact that I could change a light bulb. I’d mastered
fiery magic, become an adept fighter, learned the law, killed
countless demons (one regrettably, the others much less so), freed
myriad immortals from an accursed, tortured bondage, and survived
having my heart nearly destroyed by both love and an arrow, yet none
of that meant bupkis next to the fact that I double bagged my trash.
And yet…
I couldn’t really
argue with Miss Bister either. Everything she’d said was true. And
who was I to tell her what she should deem important? I respected
that she valued domestic order and antiques. I did too, if not nearly
as much as I valued the thing that now threatened our continued
access to such. I glared at Nova, who swept one paw over her eyes as
if she could hide from me and the evidence of what she’d done.
Barghests are giant
hellhounds. They’re bigger than bears, fiercer than rabid raccoons,
and uglier than naked mole rats. Their teeth are the size of railroad
spikes, their claws as sharp as a sickle, their breath as foul as
sewage gas. But they are also affectionate, brave, and loyal. What
barghests lack in magic, they make up for in devotion. And even
though I was plenty mad at Nova for chewing up Miss Bister’s table,
I also knew it wasn’t Nova’s fault.
It was mine – for
thinking the lobby of a demon law school dormitory would be a good
place to keep her.
“Miss Bister,
please,” I said. “I’m truly sorry. I know I can’t replace
that exact table. But if you would just allow me to—”
“No,” Miss
Bister said simply. “Either the beast goes… Or you do.”
I stared at the
small, frail, magicless woman in front of me, trying desperately to
think of some way to fix this problem. Wasn’t there something I
could do, or say, or offer her that would make amends and convince
her not to kick us out?
But all I could
think of was how useless some of the things our society valued most
were. As Miss Bister had pointed out, neither magic nor money would
help. If I was going to repair the table, I’d need to find another
way. Which would take time. And that meant I’d need to find
somewhere else for us to sleep tonight. Because if the beast was
going… I was too.
“Yes, Miss
Bister,” I said. “I understand.”
She narrowed her
eyes, slightly suspicious of my now gracious defeat since I’d just
spent the last half-hour trying to persuade her to accept various
forms of reparation. But then she nodded, handed me a couple of paper
bin bags, and left.
I slid one bag
inside the other and stooped down to pick up the slobbery remains of
Nova’s mangled chew toy. When I finished, she came over to me and
nudged my arm with her head. She let out a woofy whine.
Was she
sorry? She darn well better be!
I gave her a scratch
behind the ears.
“Now that you’ve
sharpened your teeth on my former dormater’s
furniture, are you ready to eat some real food for breakfast?”
About the Author:
Jill
Archer writes dark, genre-bending fantasy from rural Maryland. Her
novels include Dark Light of Day, Fiery Edge of Steel, White Heart of
Justice, and Pocket Full of Tinder. She loves cats, coffee, books,
movies, day tripping, and outdoor adventuring.
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Great excerpt. Awesome cover.
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