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The Madness Project (The Madness Method #1) - Paperback (Vorona Books)

The Madness Project (The Madness Method #1) - Paperback (Vorona Books)

Regular price $17.99 USD
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In a world that shuns magic, seventeen-year-old Prince Tarik hides a dangerous secret. Keeping his magical powers hidden is the only way to protect his Crown…and possibly even his life. But when an underground society of mages is accused of plotting a ruthless assassination, Tarik's buried power may be the key to uncovering the truth.

But at what risk?

Masked as a foreign mage named Shade, Tarik ventures into the underbelly of the city, into a treacherous realm of conspiracy and rebellion. Friendship is a strange word on the streets, and trust is stranger still, but he will need both to survive the city’s darkest currents.

In an attempt to earn the confidence of the city’s outcast mages, he forges an unlikely alliance with Hayli, a streetwise shapeshifter who harbors her own painful secrets. As their connection grows stronger, powers awaken within them that they never imagined possible.

But in a realm of deception and peril, can they truly rely on each other, or will the lies they tell destroy everything they’ve worked to achieve? 

In this gripping dark fantasy, the fragile line between sanity and madness blurs, and the price of survival becomes increasingly steep. With political intrigue, heart-pounding action, and a dash of madness, immerse yourself in a world where the only way to escape the darkness is to embrace the shadows.

Read an Excerpt!


“Hey, what’s that? Looks like someone was here.”

I drew back with a shallow breath. A slim, small figure darted into my room, fixated on my battered case. A moment later a man followed, dressed in rags, barefoot, limping. Even from my distance I could see the purple and blistered swelling of his feet, frostbit if nothing else.

“Oh, sweet stars. See what a treasure we scored, Zip.”

The boy stomped forward. He had boots at least, but he wore only a threadbare homespun shirt and tattered trousers. His hands shook as violently as mine as they reached for the case, fumbling at the latch.

I watched, helpless, hating myself for hiding. Stars, I hated it. But…I knew nothing at all. Nothing that could keep me safe here, without giving away what I really was. Royalty. Outsider. And, in this world, both of those equated to enemy. So I held my breath, and watched the child exclaim over my things with all the joy of a kid at the festival of Kalethelia.

And I’d thought Kor had given me the worst clothes imaginable. I wanted to feel contempt, but I only felt ashamed.

The man held up my shirt against himself, measuring its arms, feeling its thickness. Then the boy Zip squealed and pulled something out.

“Papa, look!” he shrieked, bouncing up and down.

“Praise the unseen,” the older man murmured, and took my boots and woolen stockings from his son’s hands.

“Except they’re not for you,” another voice said.

They both jumped and whirled around, and my heart sank. 

Kor stood in the doorway—filled the doorway—and I could feel their terror seeping across the floorboards. I would have let them take the clothes. Kor would never stand for it.

“Put ‘em away and scram, and I’ll forget I saw you pawing through my things,” Kor growled.

“Oh, what,” the man said. “What’s a bloke need with two pairs of trompers?”

“One to wear, and one to kick you with.”

The man sighed and set them down, slowly. “Please let my boy keep the hat though. His ears are apt to fall off any minute now, look!”

Kor hesitated. His gaze flitted around the room, but I couldn’t tell if he hadn’t seen me, or was just really talented at pretending he hadn’t. Then, to my surprise, he nodded.

“Fine. Keep the cap.”

I bit my lip. My heart screamed at me to step out and tell the man to keep the boots too, but I couldn’t make myself move. 

I’m a coward…I’m a coward…

The man tugged the cap down over the boy’s curly dark head and clapped him on the shoulder. The boy followed him out, looking wistfully over his shoulder at the boots the whole time. Then they were gone.

Kor heaved a heavy sigh and glowered at the case.

“You could have just let him have them,” I said. “We could’ve gotten more.”

Kor spun toward me, spewing out every swear word I’d ever heard—and some I hadn’t— ending with,

“Damn it all, Your Highness! Where did you come from?”

I smiled—that would be one of the only times Kor had ever shown me the courtesy of calling me by my title.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see me standing there this whole time.”

He stared at me. “Go back where you just were.”

I shrugged and ducked back into the corner. He kept goggling at me, disbelief in every line of his face.

“I can see you plain as day! How come none of us saw you half a minute ago?”

“Maybe because you didn’t expect to see me?”

“Like hell I didn’t! I expected to see you, not a couple of tramps filching your clothes out from under your nose.”

I bowed my head, shame flushing my face—Tarik’s face. The thug’s face felt as cold and pale as ever.

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Seriously, you have no other magery gift?” he asked after a moment, rubbing his finger back and forth over his chin.

I grimaced. “What do you mean?”

“I stared straight where you were standing, and I didn’t see you. It’s like you weren’t even there. Like a Cloak.”

My blood churned into a cold still mess. “One is too many as it is.”

“I’m serious. Have you ever noticed another gift?”

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