The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) π
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- Author: Brad Magnarella
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The Prof Croft Series
Books 0 - 4
Brad Magnarella
Book of Souls Β· Demon Moon Β· Blood Deal Β· Purge City Β· Death Mage
Copyright Β© 2016, 2017, and 2021 by Brad Magnarella
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover image by Damonza.com
Table of Contents
Book of Souls
A Prequel Novella
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Demon Moon
Book 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Blood Deal
Book 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Purge City
Book 3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Death Mage
Book 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
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Authorβs Notes
Croftverse Catalogue
Join the Strange Brigade
The Prof Croft Series
PREQUELS
Book of Souls
Siren Call
MAIN SERIES
Demon Moon
Blood Deal
Purge City
Death Mage
Black Luck
Power Game
Druid Bond
Night Rune
MORE COMING!
Book of Souls
A Prequel Novella
1
My heart thumped hard and high in my chest as I sealed the door onto a pulsating blackness.
Turning, I snapped on my flashlight. Through a suspension of dust, bookcases loomed from the too-close walls. At the far end of the room, a large steamer trunk and an antique desk leaned in and out of the shadows, the desk featuring an old lamp with a blood-red shade and brass pull chain.
As I stepped from the door, the fear that had been balling up my insides let out, allowing a euphoric excitement to seep in. An entire life lived in this house, thirteen years to the day, and I had never been inside Grandpaβs attic study. I was in unchartered territory.
Even better, forbidden territory.
I ran my beam over the titles on the bookshelves. An old encyclopedia set, row after row of books on insurance and insurance law. Boring titles, but my proximity to them made the hair on my arms tingle straight. Maybe it was because I knew almost nothing about my grandfather, a man who was rarely home, who rarely spoke even when he was. A man whose dour eyes and foreign accent scared the hell out of my friendsβand me, if I was being honest.
I trained my beam on his trunk. A large, battered container of black wood and metal that looked for all the world like a pirateβs chest. I undid both hasps and worked my fingernails around the edge of the central lock, surprised when the spring-loaded latch fell open.
A shot of anticipation jiggled my bladder. I clamped the flashlight between shoulder and cheek, placed my hands on the front of the lid β¦ and hesitated. As freaky as it sounded, the trunk felt alive. And it wasnβt just the warmth of the pliant wood. A force was moving through my hands, a steady rising and falling, like breathing. And was that a heart beat?
My own heart lurched as I spun from the trunk. No, not a heart beatβfootsteps, on the attic stairs. Their steady cadence accompanied by wooden taps now, growing louder.
Shit. Grandpa.
I replaced the hatch, refastened the hasps, and shot my beam around the study. A closet! In five jerky steps, I was plunging into a line of hanging coats and pulling the folding door closed behind me. A beat later, just as I snapped off my light, the study door creaked open and then closed again.
A heavy silence followed. I held my breath, sure Grandpa could sense my presence.
He uttered one of his strange words: βSerrare.β Pressure built in my ears as the floorboards clicked and a dangling bulb flooded the room with weak light. I stiffened in my crouch. Grandpaβs tall figure entered my view through the seam above the closet doorβs middle hinge, his back to me. I released my breath and blinked to moisten my eyes again.
Though the man usually carried himself like a ruler, his shoulders sloped now, as though bearing a large load. He set his cane and fedora on the desk and, sighing, ran a hand through his thinning hair. The silver ring with the dragon gleamed dully on his middle finger.
I once asked Nana why Grandpa was so quiet. What I was really asking, of course, was why he paid so little attention to me. Nana seemed to understand, her lips creasing into a tender smile. βWhen your grandfather was a young man,β she explained, βhe fought in a long war. An awful war. He saw many terrible things. Some people never recover from that kind of experience.β
βDo you mean World War Two?β I asked.
She didnβt nod, only repeated, βAn awful war.β
From the closet, I watched Grandpa pace in front of his desk. Seeming to arrive at a decision, he straightened and turned to the nearest bookcase.
βSvelare,β he said. Another strange word, spoken with depth and resonance.
A charge stirred the air, and the bookcase β¦ rippled. In the time it took for me to lean closer to the door seam, the books became other books. No more encyclopedias or insurance manuals. Humming quietly, Grandpa skipped his fingers across folios and old leather bindings. I was studying Latin
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