Amare Frost Age Novels & Stories

His heart recognized the voice. “Heard that?” Carlos Fowler’s mocking laughter came on. “Chairman Jay Adams, I have your sweet little assistant secretary. You need to hear her begging me to not touch a hair on your body. Hahahaha! You must have swam in her little honey pot to make her swoon or is it your bloody money she's fallen for?”

"He chose to come here. Chose to work the fields. Chose freedom. That choice had risks. He accepted them." "Did he? Did he know that accepting freedom meant dying in a field at thirty-two?" "No one knows what accepting anything means. We just choose and hope." Elena covered James's face. "You gave him six months of choice. That's more than Victor gave him in two years." Forty-eighth stone for Hope's Garden. Maya carved it herself. The third winter was worse than the models predicted. Minus-thirty sustained. Minus-forty during storms. Minus-fifty for three days straight when polar vortex descended.

Aurelia raised her hand, power glowing at her fingertips. I didn’t move. She lifted both hands, palms outward, and the air dropped ten degrees in a blink. Frost spread from her boots in a circular wave, curling up the wooden stage. The air crackled with quiet, elegant threat. “I did not cause the war,” she said, calm but cold. “But I will fight in it. For every wolf who chooses to stand beside me.” The air fell still.