Legacy by A.G. Carpenter by A.G. Carpenter - Read Online



When a skin-changer looking for passage to Lake Ponchartrain collapses at her feet, Willa Arch finds herself drawn into a conflict between the iron-willed Queen Elsbett of Brittania and Queen of the Dead, Marie Laveau. But survival means coming face to face with Willa's own deadly legacy of fur and teeth.

Published: A.G. Carpenter on
ISBN: 9781516371075
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Legacy - A.G. Carpenter

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A.G. Carpenter

Published by A.G. Carpenter, 2015.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.


First edition. June 25, 2015.

Copyright © 2015 A.G. Carpenter.

Written by A.G. Carpenter.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page


Also By A.G. Carpenter

About the Author

First Publication: Beast Within 4: Gears & Growls, Graveside Tales – Oct. 31, 2014

Legacy (c) Anna Grace Carpenter, Oct. 31, 2014

Summer heat grips Savannah in an iron fist. Even with the wooden doors at the back of the zeppelin hanger opened wide, it's sweltering under the metal roof. Willa wipes a dribble of sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. The fans turning overhead barely move the humid air and her shirt's already soaked.

She glares at the guts of the tension-triggered, chain transmission lying on the crate that doubles as a workbench. More like tension fucked. The derailing arm is sticking at all the wrong points, dropping the chain every time she attempts to change gears. She gives it another prod, prompting it to fold at the appropriate joints, but it moves as a whole and the chain snarls.

Fire and damn. Resisting the urge to whack it with the spanner, she reaches for the screwdriver instead.

The money had been good. If it hadn't, she'd never have taken the job running rifles down to the Gulf in the face of a storm. Trouble with good money is it never makes up for the trouble that comes with it. Now all four props on her air-ship are wracked and need new parts before they'll run smooth again.

The bell at the front door jangles. Then heavy footsteps.

Willa doesn't even bother to look up. No trips today. Likely no trips this week.

I'm looking for Captain Arch. The voice is deep, with a rough edge.

You've found her. She waits for the muttered apology, the hasty retreat. A quarter turn on the middle tension joint and another prod at the derailer. Better.

You're Captain Arch. The stranger's tone is a mix of disbelief and amusement.