Clockwork Doomsday (Rogue Angel, Book 43) by Alex Archer

By Alex Archer

A key. An historic automaton. A race opposed to the satan to the deep blue sea…

It began in forty eight B.C. whilst a centurion on a rescue challenge for Caesar went down with the send in a hurricane. along with his final breath, he observed the article of Caesar's seafaring excursion—an accursed, mechanical minotaur—hit bottom…and begin to stroll away!

While taping an episode of Chasing History's Monsters, television host and archaeologist Annja Creed learns that her someday good friend and protector Garin has bought an old butterfly key artifact, the sort as soon as used to wind automatons, clockwork-style units. other than, this key comes with a rumor hooked up, a narrative that it as soon as labored a god-touched gadget either infrequent and unbelievably powerful.

No quicker does Garin carry the most important than it's snatched from his fingers via a freewheeling historian who performs through her personal principles. and he or she wishes final energy, that could fortunately contain the sword of Joan of Arc. the search for the most important and the mythological automaton reunites Annja, Garin and his outdated mentor Roux in Genoa, and pits them in a race throughout Europe to overcome a foe as imaginative and expert as Annja herself.

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Extra resources for Clockwork Doomsday (Rogue Angel, Book 43)

Sample text

Cedric was still drinking Red Stuff and seemed even more unhappy, and Glenda, now completely healed, glowered at Dahlia. 24 ■ CHARLAINE HARRIS But they joined the throng with the rest. Even Don and his enforcer rose to join the crowd when Taff y did. “That was an excellent strategy to distract the police,” Joaquin said. ” “We found a bundle of bloody clothes hidden in the base of the fountain,” Dahlia said, and a ripple ran through the crowd. “If we hadn’t had to hide the body, if no one had called the police, we might never have found them.

Didn’t seem likely. I thought about putting the record on, listening to it again, but I couldn’t stomach the thought. The fact that I held it in my hand made me uncomfort­ able. It was like holding a bomb about to go off. I had thought of it like a snake once. Alma May had thought of it like a hit-and-run car driven by the devil. And now I had thought of it like a bomb. That was some kind of feeling coming from a grooved-up circle of wax. 45 in the glove box, a razor in my coat pocket, and the record up front on the seat beside me, I tooled out toward Dallas, and the Hotel Champion.

That sound,” I said. “You get used to it,” Tootie said, “but the thing can’t. ” I looked at the wall. There was no alleyway. It was just a wall plastered in paint designs and spots of blood. ” I said. “I fall asleep,” Tootie said. ” For a moment I didn’t know anything to say. I finally got off the floor and sat on the bed. I felt my cheek where the tentacle hit me. It throbbed and I could feel blisters. I also had a knot on my head where I had fallen. “Almost got you,” Tootie said. “I think you can leave and it won’t come after you.

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