Zoe’s scream sliced through the bookstore. She shrieked and stumbled in the aisle, knocking the travel books to the carpet. The wolf,...

Zoe slid the Necronomicon inside her shiny olive jacket. “Drop the belt.” The sheriff unbuckled her utility belt. Her holstered gun...

“I’ll take that.” With her gun-free hand, Zoe took the book from the counter. She almost looked military in her olive bomber jacket, her...

A glittering carapace of snow covered Main Street’s cars and the old west buildings. Movements jerky, I tugged on cotton gloves and...

Rasputin. I raced downstairs, grabbing the baseball bat in the umbrella stand by the door. My aunt had woven protective wards around the...

My phone rang, jangling me, and I half-fell from the futon. I scrambled across the attic’s rough floorboards to the phone. “Hello?” “It’s...

Frantic, I called Connor. “We’re sorry,” a mechanical voice droned, “you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer...

“Do you have information on the murder?” The sheriff’s voice was flat. I leaned against my tile counter and stared at the lights dangling...

Blocked. I hadn’t even found Lower World. Chest taut, I paced the attic. Usually, when magic didn’t work, it just didn’t work. But...

The storm blew, a swirl of white. I struggled with the door to my stone and shingle home. An unnatural, colder draft flowed through the...

I turned the sign in my window to CLOSED and switched off the lights. The street behind the damp glass brightened into view. Snow spun...

The next day, I sat behind my counter and packaged a first edition Edward Gorey. Customers ambled through the bookstore, flipped pages,...

I rushed to open the bookstore’s front door. Connor strode inside. He pulled me into his corded arms, and for a moment, it was only us....

I don’t know why the sheriff let me go. And I never got to see that book. But I guess I couldn’t blame the sheriff for that. New Year’s...

Sheriff McCourt planted her hands on the metal table and glared, an overgrown Shirley Temple with wide blue eyes and curly blond hair. I...

How do you know you’re broken? When does suspicion become truth, or worse, self-pity? My boots sank into the powder, ice welding me to...

In Sight, Lenore begins the story on a Year Walk. The Year Walk (or Årsgång) is a Swedish tradition that probably dates back to medieval...

Like so many other people, I've gotten swept up in the holidays (plus one of my sisters is getting married in a few days, which is it's...

We all know the song. Once you've heard it, you can't unhear it. It's an ear worm, golden rings and all. But when I started researching...

I've become obsessed with the concept of writing more episodically, where each chapter or scene is a complete story arc in and of itself....