Monday, July 6, 2009


Good afternoon friends! I hope all is well with everyone. Was your 4th of July wonderful? We had nice weather thankfully!

NEWS: CAPTIVE SPIRIT - the next Dark Crescent Sisterhood Novel is due to release in September.

Unfortunately due to some time-consumption and confusion at Amazon, they don't have CS available for pre-order. There are some behind the scenes changes through my publisher etc., and the info hasn't been fully developed on yet. does have the covers, however the release dates are incorrect. I'll post info here as I have it.

But the bright news today, is that I can share the CS cover, blurb and small excerpt!

I hope your summer is starting off beautifully and you're all taking care of yourselves! Happy reading.


So without further ado...


Captive Spirit

A Novel of the Dark Crescent Sisterhood

Release Date: September 29, 2009
ISBN-10: 0345513894
ISBN-13: 978-0345513892

The night holds endless pleasures . . . and hides nameless terrors.Bela Argos has suffered too many losses to count, and she's determined to keep her new fighting group safe. Manhattan is under siege by a new and deadly pride of demons, and she'll do whatever it takes to defeat the evil band of murderers and protect her new family--even kill the sexy, wounded police officer she's hiding in her basement.
Duncan Sharp never believed in the supernatural. A war veteran with many years of service in the NYPD, he prefers to solve his problems with badge, cuffs, and bullets. When he wakes to find himself hostage to a gorgeous bunch of women in leather--women who command earth, air, fire, and water--he doesn't know what to think, and when Bela's around, thinking is damned hard, anyway. Never mind the supernatural infection threatening to end his life and turn him into a creature he can't begin to imagine. The demons are coming, and they're coming for Bela and Duncan. To save each other and everything they value, they just might have to sacrifice everything.

Captive Spirit Excerpt
© Anna Windsor
All Rights Reserved, 2009

July, Three Years After the Fall of The Legion

Bela Argos coughed against the sulfurous wind in her face before she even broke free of the transportation channel.
I have to be crazy, coming here first.
The saner part of her mind urged her to turn around and run right back to the earthy, orderly comfort of Motherhouse Russia, but she was a Sibyl, a warrior of the Dark Crescent Sisterhood. The mark—a tattoo of a mortar, pestle, and broom in triangular points around a dark crescent moon—was tattooed on her right forearm. No way was she going to let a bunch of fire-spitting Irish bitches send her home with her tail between her legs.
Bela lunged through the final barrier of elemental power separating her from her destination. She barely managed to keep her balance as she stumbled out of the ancient channel of energy onto the large, round platform in the communications chamber deep within Motherhouse Ireland. Her right hand gripped the hilt of her sword before she could see or hear or get her bearings. Her battle leathers felt a size too tight as they reacted to the heat in the big stone chamber, and her heart thumped like ritual drums during a Solstice celebration. She jerked in a ragged breath as her chest expanded in opposition to the crushing pressure of moving through space and time so quickly. The ancient channels of transportation and communication that crisscrossed the earth were effective—but a real bitch for people without lungs the size of Rhode Island.
As Bela’s vision cleared, she caught a last glimpse of the place she had just departed—Motherhouse Russia, with its calm brown-robed adepts.
Or a great place to hide.
Screw it.
The familiar images of the Russian adepts lingered in the projective mirror, the special piece of elementally treated glass sealing the channel from which Bela had just emerged, but faded as the glass once more grew solid. Smoke swirled through the surface, gradually obscuring everything Bela associated with peace and safety.
She was all alone now.
Bela’s jaw clenched as fire billowed around her.
In hell.
The hot blast of energy singed her from all sides, flowing down from the huge castle above her. It took all of her elemental earth talents to keep the scalding power from sizzling her into ash and tooth enamel.
Did everything with fire Sibyls have to be so confrontational?