The day I met Harry Dresden, was the worst day of my life.

It all started with a 3 a.m. phone call. I should have known then, that things were going to go south.

The phone call was from Marcus Straton, my boyfriend of three years.

He was calling to break up with me.

"Sorry Sal," he'd said, "It's nothing personal, I just got bored."

I wished I could have come up with something to say, some witty retort or cruel irony. As it was, I did the only thing I could manage with my jaw hanging open and my eyes tearing up, I threw the phone across the room, and watched it smash against the wall.

I didn't sleep well after that. I kept catching myself staring at the phone, or thinking about Marcus.

I was staring at the ceiling fan when my 7 a.m. alarm went off.

I got up to get ready for work.

"Boring, he called me boring... I'm not boring, am I?"

My mirror did not respond to my question, not that I had expected it to, it wasn't enchanted or anything.

I finished fixing my hair.

My gaze flickered to the clock on the wall and I realized, with dismay, that I was running late.

I threw on my coat and rushed out the door.


I was about a block away from the office when I realized my shoes didn't match.

I didn't have time to run back to my apartment and find a matching pair.

I had been late four times this month already, one more strike and I'd be fired for sure.

The large sixty four story office building cast a huge shadow over me, I stopped for just a moment to brace myself for the scolding I would get from my employer, and in that very moment the ground beneath my feet shifted.

I lost my balance, caught myself, and looked around to see if anyone else had noticed it.

No one had, which was odd.

I tried to shake it off, maybe I had imagined it, lack of sleep does weird things to people.

A cab sped passed me, kicking up a wave of muddy water from last night's rainstorm, I didn't even have time to yelp, before I found myself soaking wet.

I turned, hesitantly, back to the office building. Maybe someone inside would have a towel, or an extra suit of clothes I could borrow.

Then, to my utter horror, I saw Martin Ford, my boss, exiting the building with an entourage of reporters.

His eyes met mine, cold and steely, and I knew I was doomed.

I moved towards him to protest, "Mr. Ford!"

All of the reporters stopped to see who had called out to the famous business man.

"Mr. Ford please! I can explain!"

His voice seemed to boom in the street, "Harris! You're fired!"


I trudged home, my mismatched shoes making squishing noises as I walked.

My coat hung heavily around my shoulders, leaving puddles of muddy water with every step I took.

I felt like crap, I probably looked like it too.

"Well, "I muttered to myself, "At least it can't get any-"

The trash can to my left exploded.

I felt my stomach drop.

Time seemed to slow down as I looked up.

Across the street, was the ugliest creature I had ever seen in my life.

It had eight of the hairiest legs I had ever seen and beady red eyes that bore into my very soul.

Terror washed over me as the creature set its sights on me and began to skitter across the street.

My feet felt like lead as the massive spider snapped its pincers.

"Get down!"

I barely had time to react as a very suspicious looking man tackled me from out of no where.

I struggled amongst the tangle of overly long limbs, trying to escape.

The man made a grunt of protest as my knee collided with his stomach.

"Calm down! I'm here to help!"

The ground shifted again, and I froze.

The man stiffened, "Did you?"

A window exploded to the right, showering us with shattered glass.

I didn't get the opportunity to answer his question, because at that moment the spider had skittered its way across the street and was now rushing towards us with its furiously snapping pincers.