Résultats de "Brad Magnarella" dans Toutes les catégories

When my magical order assigns me to Grimstone, Colorado, on a case, I’m in no hurry to pack my staff and spell books. The outlaw county is a far cry from my academic calling in New York City. And I’m being paired with junior wizard James Wesson. A brash hustler and wannabe cowboy, he’s exactly why I prefer working alone.

With his wife waging the fight of her life, Jason is desperate to get home, Blue Wolf or not. But DAWA, an advanced warning system for doomsday events, has just sounded the alarm. A disease outbreak on tribal land is the latest in an ominous pattern that heralds the imminent end of the world.

Days from a cure for his lupine curse, Jason takes an urgent mission. A medieval invader has returned to a remote corner of Eastern Europe. Backed by seven undead knights and a zombie horde, Lord Drago threatens the region’s oldest province with ghastly force. Drochia is like nowhere the Legion team has been before - a land of brooding ruins, savage wolf packs, mass graves, and secrets that lurk as quietly as the ever-present mist. Even their cheery client seems to be hiding something.

Hoping to cure his curse and return to his fiancée, Jason Wolfe agrees to command a corporate monster-hunting unit. But the team isn’t exactly what he had in mind.... A priest, a ninja, a zombie, and a guy who looks like he should be working crew on the carny circuit. To be fair, not all of Jason’s new charges are keen on being trained by a werewolf. But ready or not, the team has just been called to a job. Something is snatching children from a small town in southern Mexico. Worse, all signs point to vampires - and a darker, more malevolent force.

Let's go back to the night I turned 13, the night Grandpa filleted my finger with his cane sword. I can't say what terrified me more, the cold anger in his eyes or the crazy things in his locked study. A talking trunk. Squirming coats. A bookshelf whose titles shifted before my eyes. And one chilling title in particular: Book of Souls. Ten years later I'm on my way to a Romanian monastery, in search of that lost book. But I'm not the only one. Three others have beaten me to the local village: two researchers and...

Everson Croft here, professor of mythology and nervous as sin. Tonight's the night I tell Caroline the truth: about my feelings, my magic, everything. So why am I surprised when Detective Vega calls me to a new case? An elusive creature is chewing up residents in a housing project run by rival gangs. One more mangled body and the place will explode into warfare. Problem is, someone's protecting the killer.

What does divorcing Hollywood’s most powerful jerk get you? In my case, blacklisted and a ticket to rock bottom. A one-time studio executive, I’m now scrabbling as a newly licensed P.I. in the city that popularized noir. And I’ve just landed a job at a shabby downtown agency. Watch out, LA! But that was before I discovered the agency’s specialty—hunting monsters. The actual kind. Suddenly, I’m learning about a side of the city that makes horror seem like a documentary: vampires, werewolves, hostile spirits, and all manner of magic.

When a camp counselor goes missing under shadowy circumstances, the Blue Wolf and his team race to an idyllic summer camp to recover her. But the mystery of the counselor only darkens. Prior to disappearing, she shook her cabin with supernatural tales of the deadly and deranged… and now they’re coming to life. Towering over them all is Tommy Wortmann, a demonic brute intent on turning the camp into his grisly killing grounds.

A blood-thirsty being is on the rise, resurrecting Old West outlaws. But who is this El Diablo? All evidence points to an eccentric billionaire whose estate lies just outside our jurisdictional reach. Worse, an old-school sheriff seems determined to keep it that way. As menaces teeter into full-blown madness, I’m counting on James to ramp up his smarts and spell-casting. Success will mean the end of the Croft and Wesson era, but failure could condemn all of Grimstone to a hellish oblivion.