Sometimes you just need to hug your dervish.
Like when he protects you from brownies.
Or goes down into the scary basement with you because he’s proud to be your apprentice.
Or when he saves the world.
Kyra Greene, pest controller to the extraordinary is back with a new adventure!
A Guardian is dead. Fae are missing. And someone has let a golem loose in town. Ride along with Kyra Greene, the only pest controller qualified to deal with the strange and wonderful creatures that come out of the shadows when magic flares.
Dervishes Don’t Dance is the second book in the Valkyrie Bestiary series.
Genre: FICTION / Fantasy / ParanormalStats as of March 31, 2021
Publication Date: October 13, 2020
ebook units sold: 2,100+
Kindle Unlimited page reads: 3,313,409
Royalties earned: $21,000+
Number of reviews on Amazon.com: 300+ (4.6/5 star rating)
Current sales rank:
Amazon.com #3010
Kindle store Mythology fiction #27
Kindle store contemporaty fantasy fiction #29
Kindle store fantasy adventure fiction #8
A crowd of gawkers was gathered outside the courthouse. Pushing through them made me even later. I should have canceled all my jobs that morning. Today was verdict day and my nerves were shot, so I’d focused on work. Unfortunately, my last job was chasing a family of selkies out of the water treatment plant, and I’d had to go home and change out of my wet clothes before court.
Not used to running in kitten heels, I tripped going through the door, then skidded to a stop at the line of people waiting to get through security. The lobby was packed. Humans rubbed shoulders with elves in court dress. Imps, brownies and smaller fae were only visible by the jerking movements of others as they pushed through the crowd at waist height.
The building’s air conditioner couldn’t keep up with the early summer heat and the gathering of bodies. My silk blouse stuck to the small of my back, and I wished I’d put my hair up in its usual braids rather than leaving it loose around my shoulders like a heavy blanket.
Jacoby stuck close to me. Since our return from Underhill, the dervish had become my sidekick, mostly because I couldn’t convince him to leave me alone. At least he’d attempted to tidy up for court. The fringe of gray fur around his face was combed, and he wore new-ish short pants. I could tell because they didn’t have dumpster stains on them.
The line moved slowly and my impatience blossomed. Were they sentencing Mason right now? Would he be found guilty and sent into exile?
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Silvia Jativa
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