***Tangled Threads takes place prior to The Shattered Ones (Book 1 of The Aftermath).*** Our apartment was sparse, to put things politely. We didn’t have a couch, the bed was a mattress we’d dumpster-picked from a wealthy neighborhood, and all our dishes were mismatched. Still, even with the leaking roof, smell of weed from the... Continue Reading →
“I’m not sure what I expected after the cloning facility went down.” I laughed halfheartedly—this was not where I had expected to start. “When the roof collapsed, I expected to die. When I didn’t, I thought it would just be over, somehow. Like in the books, where the heroes finish their mission and everyone goes... Continue Reading →
Graffiti with my name? It wasn’t a new occurrence, but certainly the first in a while. Which meant that Octavian’s plan to bring in spectators and revenue was working. The thought should have settled my nerves—public opinion was everything, after all—but instead something sank in my stomach as we entered the Arena gates. It might... Continue Reading →
***Silent Nights takes place between The Shattered Ones (Book 1) and In the Unbreaking (Book 2). Mild spoilers for Book 1 contained herein!*** Lemons weren’t hard to come by. Neither were oranges. In this climate and urban setting, I could be certain of finding both in almost any back yard or roadside planting. Sugar, on... Continue Reading →
In moments like this, Erven always felt like he stood at the top of the world. A short detour on his patrol had turned into a longer one, and now he sat with his back to the rocks, overlooking a valley that lay before him in autumn hues of gold, rust, and evergreen. The stream... Continue Reading →
Trading Day had come in a flurry of carts and left in a swirl of satisfaction. With coffers and pantries full, the Yarrow Leaf tribe had settled once more into that most pleasant of seasons—summer. Or, as Heather liked to think of it, Bee Tree season. On this particular dreamy summer day, she and Clover... Continue Reading →
September 29, 1852 My Dearest Jack, We tracked the Whatever Bird and Were-Rabbit into the jungles for a day. I carried the Maltese Poodle in her backpack the entire way, save when she had to be let out to do dog business. The way was most rugged. I believe the two animals have chosen difficult... Continue Reading →
September 27, 1852 My Dearest Jack, Success at last! I have finally caught a glimpse, yes, a glimpse, of not one but BOTH the Whatever Bird and the Were-Rabbit. Somewhat embarrassingly, the glimpse came right as they raided our latest cunning trap. I was not too pleased with anyone on the expedition, Bernie especially. It... Continue Reading →
September 25, 1852 My Dearest Jack, I have captured a bird. Unfortunately, it is not the Whatever Bird. In fact, it is an ordinary, garden-variety parrot. Two of them, to be precise, and they have taken up residence in the rafters of my tent. My knowledge of parrot-like nomenclature is not what it should be;... Continue Reading →
September 20, 1852 My Dearest Jack, In the span of three days, I have obtained a shadow and documented many different specimens of flora and fauna of the African Jungles. I have also discovered evidence of one of the strangest animals of these parts. Two nights ago, I was reading in my tent when I... Continue Reading →
Brigitte Cromey 