Dan Jolley began writing professionally at age 19. Starting out in comic books, Dan has worked for major publishers such as DC (Firestorm), Marvel (Dr. Strange), Dark Horse (Aliens), and Image (G.I. Joe). He soon branched out into licensed-property novels (Star Trek), film novelizations (Iron Man), and original novels, including the science-fiction/superhero Gray Widow Trilogy.

Dan began writing for video games in 2007, and has contributed storylines, characters, and dialogue to titles such as Transformers: War for Cybertron, Prototype 2, and Dying Light, among others.

His latest work includes The Storm, a mystery-thriller inspired by actual events in Dan's hometown, and the best-selling Audible Original audiobook House of Teeth.

Dan lives with his wife Tracy in northwest Georgia. Readers can learn more about him on his website, www.danjolley.com.

The Runemaster Homicide by Dan Jolley

BRONZE IS LAW. BRONZE IS PEACE.

The all-human Valconian Empire has used bronze blades and powerful rune-based magic to rule for three hundred years.

But now the horned, violet-skinned, reclusive Sethyds have been forced from their island-nation home. Given no choice but to seek refuge on Imperial land.

Tall. Graceful. Beautiful. Possessed of an unholy, terrifying strength.

The humans loathe them. Fear them. Call them "demons."

Yet the Empire's fate is about to come to rest on the shoulders of Nysska Stonegate, the first Sethyd member of the Imperial Criminal Investigation Ministry, known as the Thaumetallicon.

The Empire will surely crumble and fall...unless Nysska can solve THE RUNEMASTER HOMICIDE.

 
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Anwar jerked awake and gasped at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but darkness still filled the spaces between the trees, and the fire had only burned down a little.

The demon knelt beside him. Now she was covered from neck to heels in what appeared to be skillfully sewn fur garments, including tight leather gloves and a fur-lined hood that nestled against her shoulders. She opened a leather pouch and produced a length of fine line, a set of small, hooked bone needles, and a couple of little ceramic jars. "Here," she said, the warmth and husky texture of her voice washing over him again. "Lie on your side." Her gloved hands helped him as he stretched out on the frozen ground, his wound facing the firelight. He hissed as an icy wind sliced across his bared flesh.

"What are you doing? Exactly?"

The demon had begun humming a soft tune, and Anwar was suddenly sure his wound had to be much worse than he'd been led to believe, because he heard her answer him over the tune—the notes and the words reaching his ears simultaneously, and without interruption. "I need to put a bit of medicine in the wound before I sew it up." The melody hummed and flowed through a tiny pause. "Now lie still."

Anwar wondered if this were naught but the height of folly, trusting this strange, deadly, spectacular creature to perform such intimate duties. And yet he couldn't help returning to the knowledge that without the demon, he'd be dead or worse by now…and that he had no other option.