Havok Publishing

Thriller

Abiral’s Goblet

Sand flooded back into the hole Suresh was trying to dig. Cursing, he blocked the flow with his shovel. At this rate, it would take him a lifetime to locate Abiral’s Goblet.

Sweat stinging his eyes, he gazed around the dunes of Dryagana Mrtyu: Dragon’s Death. No movement, and most importantly, no sand dragons.

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Beware Said the Man of Straw

“If we don’t pull over right now, I’m going to release the floodgates all over your car,” Gavin growled. He knocked the panel of the car door with the edge of his fist. “And I mean right now!”
I pulled over to the shoulder, next to a field filled with row upon row

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Golden Child

Halfway up the drive of his sprawling estate, Master Oros encountered the first silver statues. Sunlight slid over them in a soft yellow hue, matching the shimmering, golden tips of his own fingers.
The front gate guards stood motionless, bent over, hands clasped to their knees

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Through the Darkest Night

Aster leaned into the cold stone sill and gazed out the window. The night sky was brushed with the haze of winter clouds, shrouding the stars to a ghostly hue and cloaking the evening star. No moon swam behind them. In the pale light, Aster could see the orchard

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The Monastery’s Treasure

Wherever Tovar looked, flames engulfed his monastery home. He shielded his eyes and raced for the abbot’s dormitory, praying his mentor hadn’t been killed in the attack.
He found the abbot lying face down. “Abbot Cralin, what happened?”
“Tovar? Is that you?” The abbot turned toward him, clutching a wound in his side.

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The Unseen

Mercedes held her breath as the airship landed, its solar sails radiating energy. A gangway lowered toward a long line of eager passengers with tickets in hand.
First: board the airship.
She exhaled a slow breath. It had to be this airship, heading for the district housing the prestigious Leric Institute.

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The Cost of Sight

Molly checked both ways before she skittered across the street. Jack kept pace on her right, his hand a warm support on her lower back. Within minutes, the two had traversed several smaller avenues and alleyways, burrowing deeper into the unsavory part of town. 

Molly stumbled as her vision wavered, split between two worlds,

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Sweet Smell of Espionage

He smelled of cinnamon raisin bread, fresh out of the oven on a crisp autumn afternoon at Grandma’s place. And I hated it. I mean, forget about being a covert secret agent. How was I supposed to concentrate on undermining a criminal mastermind when my own agent partner—and brother—smelled like

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Rainbow’s End

Death crept through the car park. Roddy rushed to the window, meeting his reflection in the pane. 

Sunset.

To the naked eye, all was as it should be outside the intensive care unit. Doctors, orderlies, and visitors went about their business with no particular urgency. Roddy, however, knew different.

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The Smell of Home

 “Alice, are you sure you properly calculated the accelerant?” Alpha set the custom incendiary at the base of the wall. “These were meant for breaching reinforced alloys. They’ll vaporize this wood.”

His AI’s smooth voice answered. “I performed a thorough study of the combustibility of wooden structures. The combustion should be appropriate

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Waypoint Guardian

The signal was weak but unmistakable: the rebel waypoint. They had made it!

Staggering through thick forest undergrowth, Sam and Tony picked up their pace as much as Sam’s mangled leg would allow. Even though Tony helped support Sam’s weight, every step sent a spear of pain shooting up his hastily bandaged leg,

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Silver like Grief, Black like Guilt

The king is dead.
I slump in my best dress on the pew at the back of the cathedral while the funeral bells toll overhead. Outside the church, villagers scream in protest at the leaving nobility, whose emotions stream behind them in trails of color. Amber irritation. Pale boredom. Sour, brown fear.

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