Bøker av Ann Gimpel

Faith fled her compound one wintry night with four other genetically modified women. Glory, Honor, Charity, and Hope have all found men who adore them. Faith is happy for her sisters, but it's lonely on her own. A man piqued her interest, but she ran the probabilities, and the odds of him ever being interested in her are thin. Tough and forbidding, Reginald was a field surgeon in the Middle East. He eats and breathes medicine. Besides, he's married to the CIA. No wives in his past. Faith hacked into the personnel database to check.Reginald Thomas agreed to run the CIA's infirmary after a bullet nailed him in Afghanistan. He's one of a handful of scientists who produced the original batches of genetically modified humans, and he's laid low since their rebellion. The catastrophe rankles, but he hasn't given up finding a fix for their genome problems.A permanent bachelor for a host of feeble reasons, he's substituted immersion in medicine and science for a personal life. Easier that way. And a whole lot cleaner. The status quo might be sterile, but at least it's trouble free. When Faith catches his eye, he fights his attraction to her, but it's a losing battle. Loving her fulfills him, and he can't walk away. What will happen if she discovers he helped create those like her? In a radical departure from his normal forthright manner, he buries that fact deep. If she never finds out, it can't ever come back to bite him.

Gone. Everything. In one fell swoop. Maybe it didn't happen quite that fast, but it sure seemed like it.I remember everything like it was yesterday. Or, more accurately, I couldn't forget even if I tried. And I have, tried that is. With every fiber of my being. But the damned tape reel has an automatic replay button, and it blasts through my brain over and over again.I was just nineteen then. One very long year ago. I'd finished my first year at university and was on vacation between semesters. We were in Mexico at a sorcery retreat when our phones beeped and screamed warning of impending doom. Details didn't emerge for a long while, but our relative isolation in the Sierra Madre Occidental mountains saved us from immediate annihilation.We should have remained there, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty.In an ill-conceived attempt to escape, we finally gave up navigating clogged roads, left our bus, and teleported back to the States. I'm not sure if that was the beginning because it felt like the end of everything I've ever known.Survival has reduced me to someone I barely recognize. Some days, I wonder why I bother, but then I pick up the banner and face another day. Better not to think too hard or pick reality apart. If I did, I'd loose my power and burn down the world.

Cancer is a bitch of a disease. Every single person who's lived through being diagnosed and treated is a hero. There are a lot of cancer books out there. What's different about this one?Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. I'm a psychologist by trade. About fifteen years back, I started writing novels. Unfortunately, there's not a scrap of fiction in Alive. There are also no dragons, unicorns, or magical worlds. This book was tough to write. In places, it will be equally tough to read. In addition to my personal saga, it includes stories from other brave souls who volunteered to be part of this project. There are also chapters about the etiology of cancer, cancer as big business in America (and elsewhere), avoiding scams, and integrative oncology.Like most, I started my cancer journey believing the MDs had my best interests at heart. A few did, but to so many others I was nothing but a number, a statistic, many steps removed from a human being.My hope for Alive is it will empower others to stand up for themselves, to ask questions, to do their own research. Ultimately, everyone's life is precious and worth the effort of self-advocacy.

Magic runs strong in me, but power isn't enough.Actually, these days nothing is enough. I've done a fine job alienating everyone who ever cared about me, from the witches in my Coven to the man I love to my wolfie familiar. Mother's familiar left, winging a path to Faery. My wolf made it abundantly clear he'd have gone with her except the familiar bond doesn't allow that level of latitude.He howled up a storm about being stuck with me, and then quit talking.Meanwhile, the babe growing within me is equally silent. He misses Damien's soothing voice, mandolin, and Fae love. I'm under a geas to return my son to Faery the second he's born. Ha! They'll have to find me first. No power words in the universe will make me relinquish my boy.Hecate still rattles around in my mind. I'm done with her. If I hadn't allowed her in, I'd still be in Faery with Damien's arms around me.Woulda. Coulda. Shoulda. Talk is cheap.Pregnant. Nowhere to call home. No money. Nothing but my magic. Somehow, it will have to carry us through.

Magic runs strong in me, but power isn't enough.I've traveled a long road since the Coven kicked me out. It's only been a matter of weeks, but it may as well be years. I've learned a lot, and nothing at all. One thing's for certain: my life up until now has been a sham.My wolf, beloved familiar, knew far more than he disclosed. Hard to fault him since he was trying to keep me safe. Mother, the one witch who could have shed light on my origins, is dead.Try as I might, I couldn't save her.Along the way, a Fae took me under his wing, but it's confusing. Damien says he loves me. I have no idea what I feel beyond sorrow and anger. All I want is to torch the Coven guild house, avenge Mother's death, and locate Hecate, goddess of witches.Secrets of my origins lie within her. Secrets forged centuries ago. At one time, I was important to her, critical enough to bend rules. She's abandoned me too, except she doesn't get to walk away.I will find her and demand answers.Answers to shape the rest of my existence.

Magic runs strong in me, but power isn't enough.Magic confers an unnatural beauty on everyone with talent. Everyone except me, that is. I'm a witch, to be sure. No doubt about my birthright. When I was young, Mother hid me away until I was old enough to hold a glamour to conceal my flaws.And hold it I did for many a long year until I grew sick of siphoning off that amount of magic on something stupid. I was a valued Coven member. Surely, they'd accept me. And my wolfie familiar. All witches have them, except most are cats or birds. Something small, manageable.Eh. Getting off track here. The unpleasant truth was the moment I sloughed my glamour, the council held an emergency meeting. The next day, I was out on the streets. They booted wolfie along with me.No more home. No more sisterhood. Hah. What a joke all those of years of bonhomie turned out to be. If I sound bitter, darned right I am. Bitter and moving forward.I'll show them if it's the last thing I do.

I need more time to train Tiana, but our enemies won't wait for the young Sidhe Queen to embrace her full power.

Life used to be simple. I solved cases for mortals, earning myself a solid reputation as a crack detective. And I basked in the adoration of every animal, bird, and sea creature known to man-or sorcerer.

My superpower is animals, magical and otherwise. They adore me. Birds and insects too. Back when the Celts still roamed the Highlands, I begged them to shed light on how I came to be since my power is unique.

The only constant in my long life is murder. Assassin for hire, to put a finer point on it.I''m an earth wizard. Usually, we''re on the peaceful side. Not sure what happened to me, but I never fit in with my kinsmen. They''d have chased me out of the fold-for obvious reasons-but I saved them the trouble. I left on my own. The same way I left the Circle of Assassins because it was too tame for my taste. Or maybe too structured.Along with my bondmate, an oversized eagle, I''ve been playing fast and loose with the rules forever. Of course, the rules have changed, but I''ve rolled with the punches. Never found a policy I couldn''t manipulate to my advantage.There''s an old saying about life coming full circle. It''s about to snatch me up and spit me out. I can run, but there''s nowhere far enough to hide from what I am or the Circle of Assassins.My first home.My first nemesis.Grigori said I''d be back. How in the hell could he have known?