Dresden Files - Atlanta

So, a Real-Estate Investor, a Were-fox, and a Seal walk into a hotel...
In which a Seal goes Crunch, real-estate guy wheezes, and The Fox benchpresses an impressive haul

Mitchell’s Story:
I woke up the same way I normally do – the burner rang. “This is Mitch…” I started. “Mitch, my MAN!” crowed John Ponzero’s voice from the phone. Dammit, I told them not to give him to me again! I thought vainly. The only way John had this number is if Umbra gave it to him, because he doesn’t know anyone else who has it. That makes this a real work call – I can’t just blow it off. Damnit

John went on to detail his cunning plans to make a mint in real-estate in Atlanta. Yeah, that’s gonna work in this economy. “You know this zip code?” he asked, and proceeded to give me a string of digits.

“Sure.” I non-commented, thinking that once again, Google was about to be my best friend. My only friend, actually. I don’t get much of a social life at the moment. We set up a time and place to meet the next day.

Forewarned is forearmed. This time, I came with a bottle of Extra-strength Tylenol for the ride. I popped half-a-dozen before I left the apartment.

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Something Sticky This Way Comes

An Ignaz Adventure,
Guest-Starring Mitchell Carmichael, Doogan St James, and Rowan Oxford.

We shall never speak of this again.

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Wood Elves of Hemlock Park

A Rickey Adventure
Guest-Starring Ignaz Smyth and John Glass

…Aaah! Faery!

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Things That Go Bump in the Night

A John Glass Adventure,
Guest-Starring Mitchell Carmichael and Sharon Crowley

Something is amiss at Grady…

My phone rang. Jeeze, it’s 23:30! What the hell? Checking the CallerID, I saw a number downtown – the 404 area code is a dead giveaway. I picked it up to make the noise stop. “Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for Mitch…” the voice began.

“Billy? BILLY MANSON? How the hell are you doing?” I asked. “Man, it’s been what, five years? I haven’t seen you since that last firefight south of Bagdad.”

“Damn, Mitch. You remember my voice from that? uh…Wow.”

“Dude, I never forget guys who have my back! What’re you doing this weekend? Let’s go grab a beer,” I offered. I hadn’t seen Billy in a seriously long time. It would be good to see someone else who made it through.

“Uh…actually, I’m calling you about work. You’re security now, right?” His voice was hesitant, uneasy. Something is up here I thought.

“Yeah. Contractor as well as freelance. You the client?” I grabbed a notepad and pen. I wasn’t so pressed in my schedule that I couldn’t help out a fellow brother-in-arms in need.

“Uh, not really. Look, there’s something going on. I don’t have a lot of time here, so let me explain. There’s this guy – John Glass. He was a Field Medic in the Sandbox, and I think he’s in trouble.”

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Ghost of a Chance

A Sharon Crowley Adventure,
Guest-Starring Doogan St James and Rowan Oxford

Who is buried in A.H. Stephens’ Tomb?…

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Where Wolves Run

A Doogan St James Adventure,
Guest-Starring John Glass and Rowan Oxford

Doogan Meets a Werewolf…

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Bookwyrm

A Rowan Oxford Adventure,
Guest-Starring Mitchell Carmichael and “Ricky”

Jonah’s Books is a nice old store, the kind that’s getting harder to find nowadays. The place used to be a house, and the layout hasn’t changed all that much, meaning a crowded maze of bookshelves that surprises you with one more room of books you haven’t noticed yet, big windows letting in natural light, and a scattering of worn armchairs to sit and read.

Even better, there’s a back room library for approved customers only, Jonah calls it “The Belly of the Whale.” He’s a funny guy. That room has the occult books – not fluffy self-help or snake oil, but the real deal. It took me months to convince him to let me use that room, and it’s a damned valuable resource, so when he told me the books back there were being mysteriously damaged, I broke my usual “don’t get involved” rule and offered to help.

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Frigid Heat of the Southern Summer

A Mitchell Carmichael Adventure,
Guest-Starring Sharon Crowley and “Rickey”

It seemed so much more straightforward. Where before I had been industriously engaged in redacted, now I was living in the big city doing work as a specialist and consultant for Umbra Security. John Ponzero was a typical real-estate mogul: all ego and mouth, and me with no painkillers for the two-hour drive to central Georgia where he was planning to make his next killing.

We made it into town before lunch. He had talked non-stop about his favorite subjects (himself, his hot wife, his hotter mistress, and money), I needed a drink, and to cap it off I was immediately put on edge. Something just didn’t seem right, and it wasn’t just the 103 degrees at 11:30 in early July. Town square (yes, they still have those in picturesque little towns off of I-16) contained a number of pine-pollen-covered vehicles, but in the steamy heat no-one was to be seen moving about on the sidewalks. We got out at City Hall, where John planned to investigate the finer, non-computerized details of some of the local property ownership, and we had made it nearly to the building when it hit me.

Pollen season was months ago.

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