Resultados narrador por "Joel Froomkin" en Todas las categorias

You discover that the three hot AF ghosts who haunt your manor house are madly in love with you. What do you do? a. Run away screaming. b. Call a priest for an immediate exorcism. c. Get a little kooky and spooky with all three of them…together. I'm Bree Mortimer, and I chose option c. That's right—me and my three ghosts are a thing now. Now that I've discovered I possess resurrection magic, I might just be able to bring them back to life again. That is, if the dark priests of the Order of the Noble Death would stop raising serial killers from the dead to come after me.

This is a story about two teens falling in love over a summer that throws everything possible to keep them apart. Max: Chill. Sports. Gay and not a big deal. And a secret: An encounter with an older kid that makes it hard to breathe, one that he doesn't want to think about, ever. Jordan: The opposite of chill. Poetry. His "wives" and the Chandler Mall. Never been kissed and searching for Mr. Right, who probably won't like him anyway. And a secret: A spiraling out of control mother, and the knowledge that he's the only one who can keep the family from falling apart.

I'm Bree, and I see dead people. Not all dead people. Only those with unfinished business. They're everywhere—I'll be eating my breakfast, and a poisoned heiress glares over my Cheerios. I've returned to my hometown of Grimdale to cat-sit for my parents while I plan my next move. I'm looking forward to raiding their fridge, hanging out with their two kittens, and staying far, far away from anything supernatural. But I forgot that I'm never alone in Grimdale. The three ghosts I used to play with as a kid are back in my life again. Only now I'm their age, and they're infuriatingly attractive.

Dance has always been the answer to everything. It soothed my soul, it kept me sane, and it gave me purpose. It brought the Breakers back to me. It healed us. This time, dance isn't enough. It's time to face our enemies. It's time I fight back. But at what cost? My soul? The death of everyone I care about?

Our pain and hurt bled out with every movement, with every step across the dance floor. The Breakers never expected to love me again and I never believed we could get past our pain. Yet here we are. My Breakers are mine once more.

Once upon a time, it ran through their veins, too: Xeno, York, Zayn, and Dax. The Breakers and I were a crew until bad decisions and circumstance ripped us apart. Now the Breakers are back. And they’ve brought trouble. They’re not here at the Stardom Academy to dance. They’re here on a mission for Jeb, the leader of the Skins. He wants something. And me? I’m just a pawn in their game.

After ten years of meditative solitude, the prophet Zarathustra descends from his mountain cave to preach the power of the Superman - a human divinity emancipated from the construct of God. The Superman is free to create his or her own moralities, values, notions of good and evil, and purpose in life. Although people of the town are confounded, Zarathustra resolves to persuade the herd by illuminating the heights to which they can ascend by ignoring promises of otherworldly fulfillment.

Dance is in my blood. It’s what keeps me sane, out of trouble. It used to keep them out of trouble, too - a group of boys I grew up with. Xeno, York, Zayn, and Dax. We were a crew once. and we ruled the clubs. Separately we were insanely good; together we were unbeatable. F--king on fire. I was their girl, and they were my breakers. Until they did something they promised they never would: broke my heart.

The gods are real and incorporated. Providence is a profitable global industry. For Loki, three hundred years is a long time to be trapped in divinity's answer to customer service, especially when the PR machine makes him out to be the bad guy. But that's what happens when you lose a war. All he has to do to regain his godly powers is avoid the seers, outwit the executives, and win a rematch against public perception. Easy.

I'm Bree Mortimer, and I can bring ghosts back to life. The hot-as-Hades Roman Centurion in my bedroom is living proof that I can raise the dead. Now, all I have to do is stop him from swimming naked in the duck pond and trying to stab anyone with a man bun, and my life will be perfect. Hah. That's a joke. My life is a spooktacular failure. I've got two ghostly lovers who are desperate for me to bring them back, too, but if I don't figure out how to control my new magical powers, there could be grave consequences.

All I wanted to do was kiss my ghost boyfriends, but instead, I broke the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead. Whoops. Now, a horde of demons and hellbeasts is after us, and if I don't get control over my resurrection magic soon, we're in for some grave consequences. Like the end of the world.

It's been five years since the Breakers and I got back together. Five years since we opened our club, Twisted Bullet. Five years of laughter, love, passion, and a home with each other.

Nobody sane would promote Loki to corporate leadership—which is why he has to do it himself. All the better to oversee its downfall from within. But life at the top comes with its own set of challenges as divine tensions become public and Providence's carefully maintained circle of accountability begins to fail. Amid accelerating external threats, murky executive maneuvering, and the loss of a key asset, Loki, Lucifer, and their co-conspirators need the perfect plan. And they need it fast.

With his peaceful life as a scholar far behind him and his ever-growing mountain of debt to the Department of Taxation hanging over him, Jonathan can't afford to play it safe. If he wants to get his castle back, he'll need to take a few risks. At least he's not facing danger alone. Whether it's his faithful butler, a former paladin, a shapeshifter who might have gotten stuck, a land-loving merman, a wandering werewolf, a huntress in disguise, or a raccoon who can remodel the landscape, Jonathan will have plenty of company as he runs (or is dragged) headlong into danger.

One king is dead, and the other is in chains. Tir n’Aill perches on the edge of a knife in the wake of a series of betrayals that has shaken the fae to the core. Abigail finds herself questioning who is friend and who is foe. When she is forced to make her decision between mercy and love, she finds her choice is one that might tear the very world apart. Forces gather to wage war and decide the fate of Tir n’Aill. In the center of it all, Abigail is nearly torn in two, caught between her desire to protect her new people and her love for Valroy. For he is now the Unseelie King.

Pissing off God comes with consequences, which should have been obvious in hindsight. For Loki and Lucifer, it’s a victory—and the least of their problems. Building an infernal army is a lot harder when trying to fit it around eight daily hours of mind-numbing labor, uncooperative fugitive deities, and competing layers of escalating sabotage. Even worse, behind its bland corporate veneer, Providence is anything but that: its deities brim with magic, secrets, and ancient scars. The career path is soul-destroying.

When the prize is death, some games are better lost than won. If she loses, she becomes his queen, and he unleashes war across Earth and Tir n’Aill alike. If she wins, he dies. The answer seems clear. But then why can’t she bring herself to want victory? The longer Abigail wanders through his Maze of Shadows, the less sure she becomes of anything—allies, enemies, wrong, right, evil, good, hate…and love. With every twist and turn, her heart is more fully trapped in his snare.

The gods are real and incorporated. Providence is a profitable global industry. For Loki, three hundred years is a long time to be trapped in divinity’s answer to crap customer service, especially when the PR machine makes him out to be the bad guy. But that’s what happens when you lose a war. All he has to do to regain his godly powers is avoid the seers, outwit the executives, and win a rematch against public perception. Easy. Too bad he's not the only one playing at espionage.

Released from the hospital with her memory still blurred, the only survivor of a horrific car crash meets the brother of one of the victims. They soon suspect that someone will do anything to hide the truth of what happened on the road that night—and why. A serial killer calls up a late-night radio DJ with a gruesome request. Ellie and Ash have moved into a beautiful old house—but it has a mysterious past, and their life in the countryside is about to take a dark turn. A woman is haunted by an event in her past—and tormented by a mysterious killer who won’t let her forget it.

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. It Came from the Closet features twenty-five original essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer’s Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.