Spell of Vanishing by Anna Abner
Dark Caster Series, Book 3
Cole Burkov is a formidable necromancer, but waking from a devastating nightmare spell has left him confused about what’s real and what’s fantasy. Afraid of hurting more of his friends, he casts a vanishing spell on himself, except something goes wrong. He’s not invisible to spirits. He’s invisible to everyone.
Talia Jackson doesn’t want to help Cole cast his vanishing spell. She’s too busy trying to collect him for the Dark Caster. But when Cole uses her, against her will, to create the spell she becomes the only human being on earth that can see him.
Together, the unlikely allies will seek out one of the most diabolical casters in the dark cabal—the White Wraith. But when the witch fights back, Cole and Talia discover the only way to survive her furious assault is by working together.
Spell of Summoning (Dark Caster Series, Book 1)
Spell of Binding (Dark Caster Series, Book 2)
The Dark Caster Series, Book 4
Derek’s story: He was a villain in book one, tormented in book two, disappeared in book three…Find out how Derek Walker finds redemption while going up against his old boss–the Dark Caster. Coming Spring 2015
One of Anna’s first memories is dangling over the arm of her living room sofa telling herself a post-apocalyptic survival tale in which her mother and her were the last two people on earth. It was so fun, she never stopped telling stories. In high school, she faked being ill so she could stay home to work on a novel about a nanny who falls in love with her boss’ bad boy nephew.
As an adult Anna earned a college degree, got married, and had a child, but never stopped writing. It only got more fun. She wrote through my lunch breaks at work. She wrote on the treadmill at the gym. Eventually, she had dozens of short stories, novellas, and full-length novels piling up on thumb drives and in plastic tubs.
Now Anna’s ready to share her stories with you, starting with the Dark Caster series and the Red Plague trilogy. She hopes you love reading them as much as she loved writing them!
Cole Burkov didn’t look like much of a threat. Talia Jackson had seen homeless people with better personal hygiene.
Black hair made even blacker with days of clinging dirt and grime. Chalky pale skin peeking out of secondhand clothes. Dirty, bare feet.
But she did what she was told, the way she always did, and got out of her car. She straightened a pair of barely-there shorts and a new gray tank top. Even after midnight, late April in North Carolina was muggy, and tendrils of cinnamon curls stuck to the nape of her neck.
She crossed the parking lot, her flip-flops kicking up ash and bits of charred wood from the meetinghouse’s remains. Creepy place. She’d been sent there by one of the Dark Caster’s messenger spirits, Johanna. Not on his orders, though. No, the White Wraith herself had organized this pick-up. And, to be honest, Talia was much more afraid of the wraith than she was of the DC, the Dark Caster himself. Witches freaked her out.
Of course, Talia had never actually seen or spoken to either the big boss or his right hand woman. It didn’t matter. Their reputations were enough to give her nightmares.
Fear of them both was the only reason she stood in the remains of their meetinghouse. To say she was there willingly would’ve been one heck of an exaggeration. She was there because her nephew was being held by the dark cabal—a sinister group of followers of the Dark Caster—as living, breathing collateral. And Talia was terrified of what would happen to him if she refused.
Burkov hadn’t noticed her yet. He had his back to her, studying something on the ground.
According to Johanna, he was a valuable asset. Or a target. It was difficult to guess the cabal’s true motives sometimes. All Talia knew was she was supposed to get over there, ASAP, never mind the time, and acquire the scraggly bum with the crazy eyes and bare feet. His spirit companion, an equally nonthreatening soccer mom type, blinked erratically around his periphery like she had a short in her wiring.
Talia really needed this assignment to go smoothly and for Burkov to get in her vehicle without a fight. Because this was one more notch on her Must Impress the DC belt, and one step closer to finding her nephew Sylvester.
“Miss, you must put him to sleep,” Hugh whispered at her. Her spirit companion did not trust strange men. Annoyingly old-fashioned, he still fussed when she went out in public unescorted. “Do not give him a chance to speak. He may hurt you before you can protect yourself.”
Talia had drawn an emergency spell circle on the roof of her Honda two-door for just such a contingency. She may need it tonight.
The simplest course of action was to put Burkov to sleep—against his will—drag him into the backseat of her car, and then dump him on the Carver’s front lawn.
But she didn’t do any of those things.
He faced her, and only then did she see the dried blood up both arms to the elbows. God, what kind of magic had he been casting? The sight of so much blood triggered a memory. The Carver had warned her Cole was seriously, ridiculously, take-no-chances dangerous.