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Death in Irish Accents

What Measure Ye Mete
There’s not a lot left for the last few cops of what was once New York City to do, these days. Officer Cera Cortez once dreamed of chasing down killers, but now she mostly just puts a friendly face on the implacable justice of the Judges.
Until a tiny robot falls onto her face screaming murder, giving her one last chance to do her job—and signs point to the killer being a Judge….

Gladiator Wolf
Maggie, unwisely, said, “I mean, you’re exactly my type, or would be if you weren’t a ringmaster.”
To Maggie’s relief, Conri blushed in surprise. “Me? I’m a skinny white guy. You deserve some kind of god-like being to match you.”
“Yes! I do!”

Practical Boots
“We don’t call it elfland, or fairyland, or anything like that, ourselves, but it’s the best I’ve got in human words. We call it the Torn, and this place, the World. Those like me—like your child—are half of the World, rather than being half-human or half-elf or half-troll or half…whatever. I was raised there, so I’m called Torn-born. Your child will be World-born.”
“But magical?”
“Probably.”

A Christmas Like No Otter
Abe’s otter gasped. Is the little boy flirting with our mate?
He’s trying to, Abe replied, amused. And he’s doing a better job than I’ve been doing so far! You have to stop distracting me!
I am not a distraction! I am your soul. If she cannot live with me, she cannot live with us at all. This last was delivered with theatrical conviction.

Ghost Rider
It’s one thing for freshly-minted shaman Joanne Walker’s past to come back to haunt her…but when it comes back with a vendetta aimed at her beloved 1969 Mustang, Petite, all bets are off. But with the help of a couple of really tall, really cute FBI agents who definitely aren’t who they say they are, Joanne might solve this mystery before it hurts somebody else’s Baby….
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