Diabolical Sword
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A sentient sword. An artifact collector. A whole world of trouble. My name is Harlow Fletcher, and I'm a charm collector. As the daughter of bounty hunters, I know more about the criminal underbelly than the average citizen of Luma, California. But when my dad's work got him killed, and my mom skipped town, I swore off the profession for myself. I should have chosen a safer, completely unrelated career-like accounting. Instead, I fell into the lucrative gig of freelance charm collecting. I have a knack for finding rare artifacts, namely illegal magic-laced weapons, and I use that skill to snea...
A sentient sword. An artifact collector. A whole world of trouble. My name is Harlow Fletcher, and I'm a charm collector. As the daughter of bounty hunters, I know more about the criminal underbelly than the average citizen of Luma, California. But when my dad's work got him killed, and my mom skipped town, I swore off the profession for myself. I should have chosen a safer, completely unrelated career-like accounting. Instead, I fell into the lucrative gig of freelance charm collecting. I have a knack for finding rare artifacts, namely illegal magic-laced weapons, and I use that skill to sneak into criminals' homes after the police have carted them off for their latest infractions. Once I've helped myself to the contraband, I sell it to the highest bidder. While looting my latest victim, a gorgeous sword catches my eye. My gut tells me it has dragon magic coursing through its blade-and I have the perfect buyer in mind for it. I regret my decision to steal the sword within minutes: the weapon is alive. It's lightning-quick and has an anger management problem, but it's taken a shine to me. When the sword takes off one day, I'm relieved to have it out of my life. I'm less relieved when the police show up at my door, accusing me of murder. While I'm in the middle of explaining that I didn't commit the crime, the diabolical sword floats into my apartment, covered in blood. Now we're on the run, with bounty hunters and government-trained feline shifters hot on our trail. Somehow, I have to prove my innocence while the sentient murder weapon sticks by my side. I really should have been an accountant.
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