Books By Robin Sloan Novels & Stories

Alpha Gray called. The door opened, and Sloane stepped into the training room. She wore a simple dark jacket and carried a book in one hand. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked. “No,” I said quickly. “We were just talking.” Her gaze moved between us, then settled on me. “Good,” she said. “I came for you.” She walked over and set the book down between us on the floor. It was the same fire manipulation book Alpha Gray had given me before.

"I don't care about some petty thief! I want to know where Inspector Sloane is, right now!" Sharpe flinched at the volume of it, but he squared his shoulders and kept insisting. "Sir, you can rest completely easy! Someone from the corporate office tipped me off privately yesterday—I paid good money to find out. Inspector Sloane is a retired military man in his forties. He's five-foot-eleven."

Like I always say, you should try other of my books, like Tangled Life, I am also planning to apply another of my books CEO BOYFRIEND FOR RENT, just maybe, you might like to read it, when it's signed Thank you once again, for your support Sylvia Sly

Maybe a little fear was exactly what this smug establishment required. I went to Sloan's study a haven of old books and dubious choices. I didn't waste my time knocking politely. Being polite was a luxury I couldn't afford when the Orders very foundations were on the line. Pushing the heavy oak door inward I felt a wave of righteous indignation. With a loud thump it opened and Sloan was there as expected standing next to a tall bookcase with a big leather-bound book in his hands. He glanced up a glimmer of irritation in his eyes and a furrowed brow.

The room still smelled of dust, old books, and the phantom scent of tobacco from a man who had fled the country when his investment firm collapsed into a fraud investigation. Sloane locked the door behind her. She walked to the desk, knelt on the floor, and pressed her fingers against the loose floorboard beneath the heavy mahogany legs. It gave way with a dull creak. From the dark space underneath, she pulled out a thin, cloth-bound ledger.