I’m up to something…


Something is coming... I'm working on a super sekrit project related to the Colbana Files. Follow me on Kickstarter to get updates once I'm ready to launch.

It’s still in the super sekrit stage. It has something to do with Kit.

It’s not about the last book. However, Kit fans will hopefully enjoy…

shows a graphic with torn paper in the middle, peeled back to revealed an image. Intentionally kept vague but it hints at a woman's stomach and a blade.

Follow me on Kickstarter to stay up to date.

Also…a sneak peek at Blade’s End.

I wasn’t used to waking before him.

I also wasn’t used to lying there while he had nightmares.

But nothing in our lives had been normal for the past two weeks and change. Okay, it had been far longer than that, but I’d be willing to go back to the insanity of the past few months if only we could undo the past couple of weeks. If only Doyle would just show up, right now.

Swallowing the knot of despair that threatened to choke me, I rolled onto my side and stared at Damon in the dim light, the thin wedge shining in through the window more than enough for me to catch a good look at his face.

His eyes were tightly closed, mouth clenched in a flat light.

As I hesitated another moment, his lips peeled back from his teeth and a low, rough growl rolled from his lips.

I went to sit up and had to stop at the cold press of metal in my hand.

Sighing, I looked down at the sword I’d either grabbed or called in my sleep. I had no idea which. I’d had nightmares and I remembered enough about them that either option was likely.

Putting the blade down on the mattress behind me, I rose and crossed the few scant feet to Damon’s bed..

We’d been sleeping apart since we’d left East O. It felt like a distance of a hundred miles rather than a few feet. I didn’t know how to cross it, or if I even should.

A harsh noise tore from Damon’s throat and I went to reach out, shake him awake, then stopped. Warily, I looked down at his hands and he lifted one of them, slashed out at something—wicked claws emerged for a fraction of a second before retracting back into his skin.

I backed up a step.

“Damon,” I said, deliberately making my voice flat and cool.

It wasn’t particularly easy.

My heart was breaking to pieces inside me.

But the brisk tone had the desired effect and his eyes flew open, swirls of glittering gold locked on the ceiling while he sucked in gulps of air.

Fuck,” he muttered.

The gold in his eyes faded, replaced by a more familiar green-gold, then even that faded and stormy gray looked up at me from the mattress. “I woke you.”

I edged closer once I saw the awareness in his gaze. With a shrug, I sat on the edge of the bed, my arms wrapped around my middle. It was cold in the room. Normally, when I was with him, I never felt cold. But I was sleeping alone in a bed instead of curled up next to him. Even with him lying two feet away, I felt horribly alone. I didn’t know how to bridge this chasm between us.

“I’ve woken you up with my nightmares more than a couple of times. You owe me,  the way I see it.”

“No.” His voice was hoarse and for a moment, we just looked at each other and the air grew heavy with all the things left unsaid between us.

Without even thinking about it, I reached up to touch him. Before I made contact, he caught my wrist, eyes on me in the dim light coming in through the gap in the curtains.

His eyes were still haunted by whatever nightmare had plagued him, but as we stared at each other, a veil fell, cutting me off.  The crack in my heart split wider and I pulled back.

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