Kris's Science Fiction universe, World on Fire, brings her descriptive touch to the fantastic. Her Urban Fantasy series, Northern Creatures, sets her magic free. She's traversed many storytelling worlds, including dabbles in film and comic books, time as a talent agent and a textbook photo coordinator, as well as a foray into nonfiction. But she craved narrative and richly-textured worlds—and unexpected, true love.

Kris lives in Minnesota with her husband, two daughters, and her three cats.

Witch of the Midnight Blade - The Complete Series by Kris Austen Radcliffe

PART ONE: You know what brings people's secrets to the surface? The end of the world.

A blister opened in the sky, and now death rains down onto the Earth. No one expected the oldsters living at Paradise Homes to respond in any way—not me, and certainly not any of the other staff. But it turned out we're a home for retired super-beings, and now the only thing standing between me and a demon is a not-so-little old man and an old lady who speaks to Russian ghosts….

PART TWO: I thought I had the end of the world under control.

Closing the reality blister at Paradise Homes should have granted me a moment to breathe. No more hellhounds came through. We were somewhat safe. Finding our ghost's ring should have been a breeze. I didn't count on the super-soldiers. Or Nax's illness. Or that my sword's guiding "voices" might be something utterly malicious….

PART THREE: I thought I'd reached pinnacle bad with the gaslighting spaceship. I was wrong.

Multiverse-level wrong.

The Fate Progenitor stole my Midnight Blade. Then he stole Nax and Leif. And now that horrid ship, all the equally horrid human factions vying for control, and the terrifying dragons who invaded our planet—they all want mouthfuls of my mind. My body. My soul. Thing is, someone has to save the world. How much can I take before my psyche bleeds out?

Join Del Parrish and the original Draki Prime as they take up the second battle of the World on Fire universe against gaslighting spaceships, evil Fates, and timeline-jumping super-soldiers in this full series edition of Witch of the Midnight Blade.

 

REVIEWS

  • "I have avidly read all of the stories in Kris Austen Radcliffe's World on Fire universe, starting at the very beginning with Games of Fate. They are totally fantastic. No surprise that I glommed onto this book, as Witch of the Midnight Blade is set in that universe."

    – Reader review

  • "It is just as amazing as kris Radcliffe's other books. Amazing characters, action packed, emotional moments and humorous moments. Kept me engaged through the entire book."

    – Reader review

  • "Yet another winner from my favorite author! The Witch of the Midnight Blade series is yet another part of the World on Fire by Kris, and may be the best yet!! I can't wait for more!"

    – Reader review

  • "We are introduced to the fabulous Del as well as a few other new characters... and some oldies from the FFSD series. I loved Mrs K and her interactions with Del. I can't recommend this author enough!"

    – Reader review
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Chapter One

Old man Nax gave everyone grief. Mrs. Karanova, in her frowny, badass Russian elderly-lady accent, once told me "He is old fool." Then she growled "svarlivyy" which, it turns out, means "cantankerous."

So Mr. Nax, the frowny-yet-not-obviously-badass old man in 38A, spent his days with a tank full of enough crabby can-do grief that he managed to piss off Mrs. gives-no-fucks Karanova.

Thing is, Mr. Nax never gave me problems when I changed his bedding and checked his oxygen. He watched me from his Paradise Homes-issued recliner in his Paradise Homes-okayed baggy old-man pants and complained about the weather, or the vinyl squeaking under his supposedly frail old ass.

He never, not once, tried to steal meds. Not once did he use his unseen size to get his way. Nor did he tell me in his loud, old-man voice to go across the concourse to Building One and kill all the Fates.

Because Fates—as the old goats here in Building Two liked to say, Mrs. Karanova included—were the real enemy. Fates, it seemed, were no good.

No good at all.

Management claimed that it was all in good fun—Skins versus Shirts, Soccer versus Hockey or whatever stupid sports analogy you wanted to use—and that the rivalry kept the residents "entertained."

They're awfully specific sometimes, though, the residents, when they don't think the aides are listening. I heard things that made me wonder. Things that suggested that the oddly-chosen team name of "Fates" actually meant something sinister to the oldsters in Building Two.

Ignoring it seemed the safest course of action. But a lie is a lie, and lying lays eggs that hatch into other lies. Then those lies swarm, and the next thing you know you're infested.

So I asked a question. A simple one, really, even if it made less sense than "entertainment." I asked because I thought Mrs. Karanova really did talk to ghosts. And Mr. Nax really did take up more space than he should. I measured the depression in his bed one morning.

Mr. Nax is not a frail little old man.

He's not, so I asked why. Though, honestly, my question was more a scream into the bitter winter cold. I screamed as the full, unwanted, true reality crouched atop the smoldering ruins of Paradise Homes.

She swung my sword, the real truth. Her eyes glowed like scabs on fire, and she clucked in delight at my coming death.

All while, at her back, dragons broke the world.

But I'm getting ahead of myself….