Death's Daughter (Calliope Reaper-Jones, Book 1) by Amber Benson

By Amber Benson

Buffy enthusiasts will cross wild!


Now she’s the writer of Ace’s most well liked new series— killer novels that includes Calliope Reaper-Jones, who doesn’t are looking to be daddy’s little lady anymore...

Calliope Reaper-Jones so simply sought after an ordinary existence: deciding to buy clothier sneakers on sale, courting men from Craig’s record, web-surfing for natural dim-sum for her boss...

but if her father—who occurs to be demise himself—is abducted, and the Devil’s Protege embarks on a adverse takeover of the family members company, demise, Inc., Callie returns domestic to imagine the CEO mantle— basically to find she needs to entire 3 approximately very unlikely projects within the realm of the afterlife first.

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Extra info for Death's Daughter (Calliope Reaper-Jones, Book 1)

Example text

Her long blond hair hung thick and curling to her shoulder blades, and her skin was a milky white, maybe even alabaster; it was hard to tell which—mostly because her skin, hair, and even her teeth were reflecting the sunlight so intensely that it was like it was their job in life to blind anyone who came in contact with her. Having internally summed up my first impressions of the group—the good and the bad—I decided to get the ball rolling, keeping things on my terms as long as I could, so they couldn’t force me into taking any stupid and/or pointless tests.

I’m not sure he’d ever come across a subject that was quite as combative as I was being. “Please, Miss Reaper-Jones—” “Don’t ‘Miss Reaper-Jones’ me! You can just go back to the ‘ma’am’ thing, as far as I’m concerned,” I said, continuing to glare at him. He sighed, and put his notebook down on his thigh. “Look, I’m not accusing you of anything—” “You better not be,” I said menacingly. He closed his eyes, obviously counting to ten under his breath. “I just need you to tell me where and what you’ve been doing during the past two days so that I can get a clearer picture of the time line.

You’re . . ” I gave him a cold smile, and for the first time I felt the power that went along with the title surging through my veins. It was an unbelievable rush, one that was hard to ignore, no matter how much I tried. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry . ” He swallowed hard again, then licked his lips nervously. “Please, forgive me. Had I realized . ” Davenport said, his voice high and squeaky inside his throat. “Forget it,” I said, waving a hand. “It’s no biggie. ” I realized with a start that the detective was shaking.

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