I like things neat, so shoot me. Or poison me. Or run me through with a broadsword. Doesn’t matter how you try to end me, werewolves are immortal.
Back to liking things neat…I’ve been killing forever, both as a wolf and as a man. The assassin trade has always been lucrative, and a few hundred years back, a much simpler affair. No DNA tests. No sophisticated crime labs. I didn’t have to plan the way I do today to avoid detection.
Not that it would matter if I were apprehended. I’d just vanish to a borderworld for a while and resurface once the heat died down. Mostly, I deal with supernatural enemies these days. Keeps things cleaner.
But this book isn’t about today. It’s about long ago. I’ve done my damnedest to instill pride and standards into the assassin trade. And bond animals. Their principles definitely add class to the mix.
Building the Circle was an uphill battle. I almost gave up more times than I can count, but nothing worthwhile comes easy. The Circle of Assassins became my life’s work. Didn’t plan it that way, but life happens. Life, bloodthirsty mages, and the bond animals who adore them.
Author note: This book can be read as a standalone, but for the best experience, you might want to read the first four books in this series.
I'm basically a mountaineer at heart. I remember many hours at my desk where my body may have been stuck inside four walls, but my soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. There's a timeless element to the mountains. They feel like old friends as I visit them, and visit them again. There's nothing like standing on a remote pass where I've been before and seeing that the vista is unchanged. Or on an equally remote peak. Mountains are the bones of the world. They'll prevail long after all of us are dust. It feels honest and humbling to share space with them. I hope I'm blessed with many more years to wander the local landscape. The memories are incomparable. They warm me and help me believe there will be something left for our children and their children after them.