Part of Series
TROY Harlow is missing, and Pletcher won't let the four of us, his own mates, in on the search. All they know is that James Harvey doesn't know where his son is. Well screw Pletcher and the ShiftARS. It's time we walk away from everything we ever knew. Harlow needs us and his safe return is the only thing that matters, he is all that matters. We will find him, and we will devote the rest of our lives to our crazy amazing mate. Hold on Harlow, we're coming for you. HARLOW Death is supposed to be a rest. Well, I'll tell you, they are lying. The phrase 'live while I'm alive and sleep when I'm dead' doesn't apply to me. I'm dead, and for some reason, that means trekking up the side of a mountain to find my beasts. I'll make my own phrase then. Sex when I'm alive. Epic journey of discovery when I'm dead. And sleep when hell freezes over. Or when I burn the world.
Author
Charlotte Brice started writing at the age of thirteen when her handwriting looked like a drunken spider tried to navigate its way across the page. Practicing her handwriting got a lot more interesting when her gran gave her two Rawhide books, and her imagination took over. Charlotte is left-handed and can lick her own nose. She lives in England with her husband, and many animals, four of them human. Attack chickens, confused dragons and moving rocks make up the majority of the menagerie. We can't expect much better from someone who studied fruit flies during her animal science degree and then qualified as a vet. She remembers those days fondly, when putting her arm up a cow's bottom, and socks on emus' heads was her kind of normality. Now her head is filled with tentacles and schizophrenic phoenixes.
