Debbie Cassidy lives in England, Bedfordshire, with her three kids and very supportive husband. Coffee and chocolate biscuits are her writing fuels of choice, and she is still working on getting that perfect tower of solitude built in her back garden. Obsessed with building new worlds and reading about them, she spends her spare time daydreaming and conversing with the characters in her head – in a totally non psychotic way of course. She writes High Fantasy, Urban Fantasy and Science Fiction. Debbie also writes dark, diverse Urban Fantasy fiction, under the pen name Amos Cassidy, with her best friend Richard Amos.

 
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Chronicles of Arcana

If Buffy and Angel could have banged without him going all evil, then we would have had Wilomena Bastion.

Dragons suck, like literally suck the life out of you if you let them. Trick is not to look them directly in the eyes, like ever. So, the day Wila finds herself staring into the most dangerous Draconi’s pretty, emerald peepers, she knows she’s royally fucked.

No one said saving a bunch of kids from being served up as treats to the dragon liege was going to be easy. Options are limited—immediate execution or servitude, and Wila prefers to have her head remain firmly on her shoulders.

Now, the self-professed dark avenger must work to bring down a resistance of demons hell-bent on making life difficult for the dragon liege. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, her new position comes with a partner, the dragon liege’s favoured demon enforcer; a creature of fire, fury and washboard abs who—let’s face it—is just gonna cramp her style.

With the help of a ghostly receptionist, a talking dog and the thing that lives in the basement, Wila will be forced to take on a most dangerous task. It looks like some serious brooding is on the menu, because for the first time in forever, Wila isn’t sure she’s up to the job.

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Chronicles of Midnight

Not all monsters are evil. Serenity should know… She is one…

Being a monster among humans is no easy task, but Serenity is determined to make it work for the sake of her adopted human sister. Being an officer with the Sunset PD means the humans are hers to protect, be it from the self-proclaimed winged messiahs of Dawn or the ravenous scourge of Midnight. But most of all from the constant threat of the hungry demon within.

But one slip is all it takes for the façade to unravel.

Exiled to Midnight, a district filled with moonlight and monsters, Serenity must find her place among the supernaturals and freaks. Being drafted into the Nephilim Protectorate, the only line of defence between humans and dangerous magic, means proving her worth while battling to control her demon hunger. It won’t be easy, but with the help of the protectorate men, and their terrifying charismatic leader, it may just be possible, because a malevolent force is rising, and Serenity may be the only one with the power to stop it.

Midnight’s fate is in Serenity’s hands, and to succeed she may have to do the unthinkable, she may have to unleash the monster inside.

 
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Deadwood Chronicles

Humans weren’t meant to live underground, but then artificial intelligences weren’t meant to feed on souls. Shit happens.

 

They say being a Potential is an honour. I say it’s a death sentence waiting to happen. It means the possibility of being picked to be a Guardian. It means leaving the safety of the Hive, and only a fool would willingly do that.

Turns out I’m surrounded by fools

Turns out I’m supposed to be one of them.

Monsters roam topside. Metal beasts that power themselves on human souls, and I don’t intend to end up as battery juice.

Being a hero means nothing if you’re too dead to enjoy it.

Better to stay safe in the Hive and hangout with my wolf-shifter co-worker or spend time with my enigmatic nephilim mentor. Heck, I’d rather be doing anything else then going topside. But I’ve made a promise to my best friend, a promise to get her to the finish line in time to win a spot as Guardian.

How hard can it be, right?

We have a plan.

So why do I feel as if something is about to go seriously wrong?

It’s a game. Just a game.

Or is it?

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Deadwood Reapers

Your dead are our business.

Got a loved one who’s passed? Want to ask your dead aunt where she hid that elusive will? Head over to Necro city and look no further than Soul Savers Inc.

 

One day the world was normal, and the next, it was filled with ghosts. And then the reapers came. Blood-sucking hot dudes with wings and wicked scythes.  They took control, and now we have a system.

Now we have Necro city, the hub of all things untethered.

As a soul relocation agent, it’s my job to rehouse the dead until the reapers come to collect, but with so few of those dudes about, the wait isn’t pretty. Thank goodness for decent coffee, frosted donuts, and a pending promotion.

Things are looking good until they’re not.

One bar fight and a dead reaper later, I’m left holding the scythe.

Not just any scythe, but a scythe belonging to one of Lilith’s four favored sons—the most powerful reapers in the world.

For some reason, it’s chosen me.

Now, three very large, very pissed off reapers are on my case.

It looks like that promotion is going to have to wait.

 
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Dragon Guard Series

The stories say that the dragons saved humanity, but all they left were ashes, cinder, and a new breed of human. Welcome to the Outlands, where nobody cares if you scream.

 

Rogue, Fighter, survivor. I have many roles, but my only purpose is to protect my loved ones and make a better life for them. It’ll take one more job to make my dream a reality.

 

But fate, the uncooperative bitch, stands ready to twist the knife.

 

Taken by Dragon bloods, the better-looking result of human and dragon unions, I’m caged and forced to fight in the arena for their amusement.

 

They want me to bleed, but I’ll be damned if I’ll kiss the sand for them

 

But there is more to the Arena’s purpose than meets the eye, and I’m beginning to believe that all the stories I’ve been told may be nothing more than fiction. With the help of a man with eyes like flame, and his arrogant, incorrigible brother, I may just survive to find out the truth.

 

The Bloods are close to executing an awful plan, and the only way to stop them is to escape. My family wait for me. My dream awaits, and freedom will be mine.

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For the Blood

Stay alive at all costs. No attachments, no looking back, no emotion.

The last thing my father gave me was a key. No explanation, no details, just a key. The last thing he asked of me was to take the key to a set of co-ordinates. But survival in a fallen world filled with Feral isn't easy. The Fangs and the Claws, once upstanding members of society are now slave to the virus, hunting indiscriminately under a perpetually full moon.

There is no hope. There is no haven. Not alone. Not until them.

They are a new breed of monster—beasts of both fang and fur. Unaffected by the sickness, they crave only one thing, and it runs through my veins. Survive, my father said. Look out for no one except yourself. But sometimes the only way to survive is to make attachments. Sometimes the only way to live is to accept a dance with death. And right now, for me, the path to survival is in the blood.
Here’s to hoping it doesn’t kill me.

 
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Heart of Darkness

A century-old curse forgotten by time. A sleepy town cut off from the world by an ominous chasm. And a girl with the heart of a warrior.

 

Nothing can stop the Silver Riders from reaping once they’ve marked their prey. I should know, I tried, and I failed…

The silver riders come in the dead of winter. They ride out of the chasm beyond the woods and take the Marked. No one sees, but me. No one remembers, but me. It’s the towns curse to forget, and I do my best to forget along with them. I almost succeed.

Until the day I can no longer turn a blind eye. Until the day the man I love is taken.

Now there is nothing I won’t do to get him back, even if that means climbing into the pit of hell itself, even if it means taking Deaths hand and accepting his heated kisses. I will do what it takes to find the man I love, and I will brave the monsters to bring him home. And if I fail…If I fail, I’d have died trying…

My name is Wynter Ashfall, and I am not afraid…

 
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The Nightwatch Academy

Murdering humans is a huge no-no and comes with an off-with-your-head sentence. Doesn’t matter if you don’t remember doing the crime.

I killed a human, and no, it wasn’t on purpose, but that shit doesn’t matter to the council. I’m facing death. So, when I’m offered a deal to avoid execution, I’d be a fool not to take it, even if it means leaving the human world and urban life behind to enroll in the Nightwatch Academy – a gothic monstrosity hidden from human eyes, located way too close to the largest tear in the fabric of our reality.
It would be fun if I had any inclination of becoming a member of the Watch or supporting the shadow knights at keeping the Formorian threat at bay. But heck, the monsters beyond the mist aren’t my problem. I have personal demons to deal with.
Once I’m out, the Watch can shove it.
But one sip from the ceremonial goblet and my plans to coast are out of the window as my powers spark to life.
I’m an anomaly, one the Watch won’t be letting walk any time soon.
My only comfort is a man who prides himself on his ability to harness pain. Battle scarred and formidable, he’s my tutor, my mentor, and the object of some super saucy dreams. He’s completely off limits and my only hope of surviving my first test.
I’ll need to harness my powers fast.
There can be no distractions.
But when my fellow cadets start going missing then returning with no memory of who they used to be and my best friend is taken, turning a blind eye is no longer an option.
Allies are limited when you’re a freak. Luckily, I don’t need a cheer squad to get shit done.  Whoever is responsible better watch out. I’m coming for them, and I’ll be bringing the pain.

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Survivor's Heart

Each Victory is another day I get to continue breathing.  Each Victory is a reprieve from Death.


Ever since I was betrayed and taken from my home planet, ever since they pumped me with poison and abandoned me on this asteroid to fight or die, I’ve been surviving.

But I’m not alone.

There are others with me, alien to me, just as I am to them. Separated into Houses we fight as a team on the blood-soaked sands while the elite watch.

Each day is about survival until him.

An outsider, he brings death, but he might also be our salvation.

There can be no us and them. There can be no prejudice. There can only be the team, because together we are stronger.

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The Dead Girls Club

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