Annie Reed has been called "one of the best writers of her generation" and for good reason. She writes in multiple genres, including urban and contemporary fantasy, mystery, suspense, science fiction, romance, and thrillers, along with the occasional story that doesn't fall into any one specific category.

She's a founding member and frequent contributor to the innovative UNCOLLECTED ANTHOLOGY, now in its tenth year of publishing themes urban and contemporary anthologies three times a year. Her short fiction appears regularly in PULPHOUSE FICTION MAGAZINE; MYSTERY, CRIME & MAYHEM; and starting this year in THRILL RIDE – THE MAGAZINE. She's even written official STAR TREK fiction and admits that she's an unabashed MCU fangirl. She currently writes and edits fulltime. When she's not cuddling cats.

Guardians of the Bay by Annie Reed

Do you like reading stories about modern-day shapeshifters living in a big city?

How about shapeshifters who don't turn into wolves when the moon is full?

How about a stray cat that can shift into a person in the blink of an eye? Or a tiger. Or a lion as big as a car with razor-sharp claws the size of butcher knives.

What if that cat talks to you in your mind.

What if she decides she owns you.

With GUARDIANS OF THE BAY, award-winning writer Annie Reed does what she does best—puts her own unique spin on a classic fantasy tale.

Elias Sandoval makes his living playing songs for tourists at The Wharf in San Francisco. He'll play whatever tunes make the tourists happy, for happy tourists mean happy tips in his guitar case.

He never expected to get a request for a classical song seemingly out of thin air.

Playing that one simple song sends Elias headlong into a world that shouldn't exist. A world where stray cats aren't what they seem. Where threats are punished with teeth and claws.

Where his very life will be ripped to shreds.

CURATOR'S NOTE

The first of our exclusives comes from Annie Reed. Annie is one of the most amazing writers around—in any genre. Lately, she's been picking up mystery genre accolades, including appearing three years in a row in best-of-the-year volumes. This book is fantasy, another genre that Annie excels at. By the way, her cat experiences are based on life. To date, she has adopted two cats from us, and gave them the best possible life. – Kristine Kathryn Rusch

 

REVIEWS

  • "Annie Reed is considered by many to be one of the best new writers appearing in fiction."

    – Dean Wesley Smith, Editor, PULPHOUSE FICTION MAGAZINE
  • "One of the best writers I've come across in years. Annie excels at whatever genre of fiction she chooses to write."

    – Kristine Kathryn Rusch, award-winning editor and writer of The Fey series
  • "The appearance of a new Annie Reed story is a treat. Try one and you'll be hooked."

    – David H. Hendrickson, award-winning author of “Death in the Serengeti
  • "Annie's writing is magic, seriously."

    – Robert J. McCarter, author of A Ghost’s Memoir series
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Elias was getting close to the end of what he thought of as his first set, rocking out to an old Police song, when he glanced across the street. If Leon's store was crowded with customers, Elias would just suck it up for a few more songs before he texted Leon for a break.

There was a cat sitting by the front of Leon's store.

Not the long-haired ginger cat from a few days ago. This cat was almost entirely white with a few splotches of darker tabby fur on its head and along its spine. Its thin tail was totally tabby, a combination of gray and black tiger-striped fur that looked out of place on a mostly white cat.

But like the ginger-furred cat from the other day, this one's attention was totally riveted on Elias.

Like it was listening to his music.

This wasn't the ethereal moonlight music he'd been playing first thing that morning. No "Moonlight Sonata." No "Ode to Joy." This was his version of the stuff people might hear on the radio or their streaming music service of choice.

Yet the cat appeared to be totally into the music. It didn't seem to twitch when a particularly loud car drove by, and it didn't move when people walked too close to it. The cat simply sat still as a statue, head and ears pointed in Elias's direction.

Normal cats didn't behave that way, did they?

Elias had never been tempted to adopt a cat of his own, not after his mother's ill-tempered tomcat, so he had no real idea what was normal for a cat. But the fact that two different cats had sat in basically the same place and appeared to be listening to him play—that had to be weird, right?

He finished the Police song and instead of the Gordon Lightfoot song he'd intended to play next, he decided to play "Moonlight Sonata" again just to see what the cat would do.

Not the ethereal version he'd played that morning, but the version he'd first played for the young woman who'd stopped to listen to his music a few days ago. The woman with the gauzy skirt who looked for all the world like a throwback to San Francisco's hippy days.

He'd only played a few opening notes when the cat's ears twitched. It lifted its nose, and although he couldn't tell from where he was sitting, Elias could have sworn the cat was sniffing the air. The tip of its tail twitched almost in time to the beat.

Like it was dancing. The feline version of a ballerina.

Elias would have laughed at the thought, but a sudden chill swept down his spine. The damp cold must have finally worked through his leather jacket. He really could use that coffee.

No, that wasn't it. He wasn't feeling the damp cold of a foggy San Francisco morning. This was the cold of a moonlit meadow in the middle of winter. Or the cold of starlight. Or….

Moonlight.

The word echoed through his mind, along with something else. A thought that he was pretty sure wasn't his own.

We all dance in our own ways.

Followed closely by another:

Thank you for playing this song.

Only muscle memory kept Elias from totally flubbing up the rest of the song.

No one had spoken those words out loud, he was sure of it.

What the hell?

He blinked and gave his head a sharp shake, trying to clear his mind.

When he looked back across the street, a white-haired woman stood in the exact same space where the white cat had been just a moment ago. She was the same woman who'd stopped to listen to "Ode to Joy" earlier that morning, only now she was alone. Her gray-haired companion wasn't with her.

She was standing there smiling at him. Then she clearly mouthed the words thank you.

A group of three teenage girls crossed in front of Leon's shop. They didn't seem to register that the woman was there, although they walked around her. Kids that age always seemed so oblivious to the world around them. It was a wonder they didn't barrel right into the older woman.

Except… was that all it was? The obliviousness of the young?

Because when the teenagers passed the spot where she'd been just a moment ago, the woman was gone.

Not even the cat remained.