Learning to let go.

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I believe people come into our lives for a reason, and I have also heard with each relationship there are lessons one can learn.

 

Recently, my beautiful sister-in-law came down for a visit. Memories were shared, tears were shed and laughter mended our souls. A particular topic was brought up and it nearly knocked me off my feet.  The topic was about having a ceremony at a national cemetery for my husband. He had served in the Navy and was honorably discharged. She’d mentioned about letting go of his ashes and letting him rest in peace where a healing could be provided for all of us.

A realization hit me…

Have we truly healed after his passing?

After talking with my middle son I soon understood what she meant. I have clung to so many things of his, almost like he went on a far away trip and I awaited for his return. Now, it’s not easy letting go of someone, let alone a soul mate. But, as I sat and stared at my computer screen, viewing the national cemeteries, I understood what I must do. I knew selfishness was not an answer, and I also knew I wanted everyone to heal the best way possible, and in a sense it felt like a band-aid was ripping off a huge, gigantic wound all over again. I cried as the gracious military burial assistant went over each detail,  I apologized through each sob and tried my best to do what was right.

I cried while I made dinner for the night, fully comprehending what was to come, another memorial. Scheduled in the Spring, his birth month, he will have full honors and a place to be remembered for his virtuous service.  I know in my heart this is the right thing to do. My lesson I have grasped through all this is that you can place a band-aid on anything, but to fully heal one must expose the wound, and treat the heartache, treat the pain openly.

Slowly, I’m learning my own soul is repairable, when I read quotes about how losing someone dear felt as if part of them had died as well. I know that feeling. When he passed part of myself died too. But, with time I know I will become whole again, perhaps this is why my own writing has become such a tender spot for me. I miss him reading each line I wrote, miss him commenting about a scene that was amusing or even crying when a character of mine would experience turmoil.

He was definitely one of a kind and someone I will never forget.

There’s a story within a story I remember writing in the Crescent Bound series, about the Mabon celebration, how the seasons change, how Autumn brings about a new perspective on life.

I’m going to add it here,  and pray there is some type of peace and harmony for us all.

“This story I’m about to tell you may seem sad, but we must not forget the message woven within. This is the time when the warmth of summer days leaves us, and the chill of winter nights welcome us. The seasons change as each takes their time for rest. It is also a time when our goddess leaves to go on her journey to the underworld in search of her lost love. Deep in the sacred woods, she travels many nights before coming to a shore where she makes a bonfire, much like this one.

She dances with the gracefulness of the goddess she is. Her chant fills the lonely evening air and carried away in wisps of the wind. Fast and long she dances. Spinning around her spirit lifts up and soars downward, beginning her journey to the underworld. I will not speak of the horror she came upon, from hideous giants, flesh-eating beasts, to fire-breathing dragons, none were able to block her determined path.

The love she held inside fed her desire and strength to forage onward. Being here time and time again she remembers well what lay in wait. She avoids most of the dangers. After passing safely through a swamp that was infested with blood leeches, she arrives at a cavern. Once inside, she finds a stream flowing within. Her bare feet pad slowly as she walks through the shimmering stream. The goddess follows the waters which appear as liquid gold to her eyes. She arrives at a pool filled with pure golden light, the air around her smells of honeysuckle and she knows in that moment she has found her lost love.

Her love lies in the deepest of sleep, the sleep of death is upon him. She begins to raise her voice in song and wash his body with the waters from the golden pool. Her song echoes all throughout the cavern, ringing true with the power of love, of dancing in a meadow in the spring, of the warmth of the sun, of the smell of sunflowers, and of the feel of cool waters on a hot summer day.  All the things the sun king is able to bring to the earth, if only he lives.

After what seems an eternity, he awakens and looks at her. “My goddess, I have no strength to return in this body. I am not able to survive the journey back to the living. But I can dissolve my body and go back into you as a spark of life. A spark that you can nurture and grow until the time is right to be ordained. With his final breath a burst of white light leaves his body and turns into pure energy and joins with our goddess. The infusion ages her but she carries a new sun within her.

 

Copyright © 2018 by Karli Rush

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Happy Birthday, My Love

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Today the kids and I would’ve baked a cake, wrote notes about how much you mean to us and feel  blessed to have you in our life.

 Or, ordered a batch of Wonton soup and enjoyed each other’s laughter. Oh, how I wish I could go back in time…

We had so many wonderful memories together and that’s exactly what I am trying teach our son. To remember you, to hold onto the love you had for him and for our family. And as part of my steps going forward, I’m still reading Healthy Healing. There’s so much I’m struggling with and through it all I’m trying to find that courage, that get-up-and-go drive. Some days, it’s there pushing me to do what needs to be done and some days, I feel like I truly get what the heck this book means.

Here’s one of the best lines from the book:

“Loss teaches us to appreciate the moment, to love what matters, that life is less about stuff and more about experiences and memories. Loss teaches us that we have a finite amount of time to do all the things we’ve dreamed of doing. We love more deeply, and give more freely. Loss is perhaps the greatest teacher available to humankind, and as the survivor of loss, you too are now enlightened with the gifts of grief. While I wouldn’t wish my pain on my worst enemy, I would wish my perspective of life on the entire world.” Author Michelle Steinke-Baumgard. 

I think the greatest gift was having my husband in my life, he had such a drive for life, to change things, to raise the bar just a little bit higher, always wanting to improve. And he did just that, he touched so many lives and I know he would want his children and I to carry onward loving life the same way he did.

While reading through the chapters, I could not grasp the notion that death, his death- my grief, would ever be seen as a gift.  But now, after reading, after taking some time to really look at it from all the different angles, I get it. Chris would have wanted me to fulfill all my dreams and hopes, he would want me to laugh, to smile, to cherish everything that is in my life. So, I know he’s not here with me to blow out the candles for his birthday, nor is he here to sit across the table and smile while we ate Wonton soup together…

But, he is here in my heart and soul cheering us onward. Happy birthday, My Love!

 

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The Journey continues…

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Well, how was your holidays? Fulfilling? Chaotic? Maybe even remarkable? I had everything I could ever want right under one roof, my family. I adore having my kids around, cooking for them, watching movies, playing games, but there was one thing I truly wished I had… my husband.

 

I keep thinking as the days pass it’s going to get easier, but once the holidays transpired, my heart grew heavy with grief. So many memories cling to me like a ghost haunting an empty house. And, maybe my grief sprouts more because I compare my boyfriend to him. Some may say it was way too soon to jump into a new relationship.

Maybe.

But, nonetheless here I am. My youngest son, Nick, totally enjoys their time together and seeing him smile and laugh again gives me hope. Children living with autism (from my experience) are so hard to connect with sometimes. They’re usually in their own world and completely happy being fixated in that world. So, when I say I’m given hope every time I see my son laugh or joke with that twinkle in his eyes, I become so determined. Determined you may ask? What do you mean?

As of right now, I am currently reading two books Cure Your Child With Food by Kelly Dorfman and Healthy Healing by Michelle Steinke- Baumgard. I’ve researched a lot over the years and knowing certain things can trigger a slew of unwanted behaviors in our children, one of which I recently came across was artificial food dyes. Oh yes, the wonderful dyes, any color including red No. 40, red No. 3, yellow No. 5, yellow No. 6, green No. 3, and even the blue No 1, blue No. 2.  I talked with our private physician and he agreed to remove all of them out of our diet. Easy? It was a little time consuming, but once you get the hang of it, which we did, I saw such a big difference in my son.  Small steps. And that’s what this piece is about, to hear my son tell me good morning, maybe even a hug and then, he goes on about his day, makes me one happy mother! Just that, two words or one simple act of kindness. So, every day I strive to learn and focus on what’s important.

While on this journey of mine, my best friend recommended a book to me, Healthy Healing, I had mentioned it above. And as I was reading, the author tells you her story, her story about how she lost her husband. The entire time I’m reading I keep whispering to myself, don’t cry, don’t let the words I’m reading affect me, keep it together!

 

But I just couldn’t do it. Tears flooded and my heart breaks for her, I can relate to pretty much everything she’s experienced. Her story is told with a disheartening beauty, simply because you know she loses someone she loves. In a passage she states, basically, “you purchased this book because you’re looking for strength and hope.” I am and since the holidays have faded into another year without him, I have started to truly wonder what my purpose is, what is my “thing?” Which is what the author calls it in her book.

 

So, in part of the healing experience, perhaps this will help, and hopefully, I can do this in one sitting and tell you my story…

I had been working on a story titled Midnight (some of you may know what I’m talking about), my goal was to make it the second installment to a previous book I had written. I had been locked away that day, typing as fast as my fingers would allow, totally absorbed in the story when my husband had come in with dinner. He always made dinner before he went to work and just like any other evening he sat beside me and listened to what I had written for the day. And as usual, he would ask questions, offer ideas and listen to the music I would play while I wrote.

I remember him laughing at a particular scene and for a moment I felt like time stood still for us. He was so easy to talk to, it was effortless to love him. If I had become unsure about how a character or how a scene should play out, he would always talk me through it. And in doing so he built up a confidence in me that encouraged me to march onward.

Before he changed clothes, he played with our youngest son, tickling him with the scruff of his beard. The room filled with giggles and laughs and then he leaned over and kissed me goodbye, little did I know it would be our last kiss.

On August 12, 2015 Chris left for work, as usual he wrote his first email of the night to me letting me know he made it okay.

Sent: Wednesday, August 12, 2015 7:03 PM
Subject: Hi Darlin
Hello Darlin,
I made it here, but if I start feeling bad I might come home early, it just depends on how I feel. So far, so good.
I sure do love your writing and you have mad skills with your story. I love every drop of it and can’t wait to read more.
I miss you
I replied back, he hadn’t felt good and it always made me anxious. He emailed me about five more times and we conversed throughout the night. At 2:45 I started receiving phone calls, Chris had left work and about a couple of blocks away he turned around and headed back to the job site. As soon as he parked the car he told one of the security guards there he was having trouble breathing. He took a few moments asking the guard to stay with him. And as they looked up Chris commented about the Perseids meteor shower, it was the last thing he saw before he passed away.
Shortly after I arrived at the hospital and I remember waiting in the emergency room alone. I held onto hope, thinking maybe now, we will know what was making him feel so bad. I sat and watched life flight leave, readying myself to soon follow, because in my heart I just knew he would be okay. He was going to be fine, I must have said those words over and over a thousand times inside my head.
But no one came to tell me that, instead the hospital security ushered me into a side room. It was small, plain and isolated. Still I carried no doubt in my mind, I anxiously waited for someone, a doctor, a nurse to tell me he was in surgery or something. But, once the room filled up with nurses and the same security guards, my heart started to beat a little faster. A tall, slender woman walked in, a stethoscope dangled around her shoulders, she knelt down beside me and that’s when I saw the tears in her eyes.
She spoke softly, and told me my husband had passed away, they did everything they possibly could. And as she delivered her words I felt so detached. Like it wasn’t me sitting there, it wasn’t me hearing what was being said. I remember a pile of tissues were handed to me, but I couldn’t feel the tears that streamed down my face.
From that point on, it felt like an out-of-body experience was happening to me, I was asked to see him and I said no. I wanted to remember him when he was getting ready for work that night. Full of life, smiling, I didn’t want to change that image of him. With numb hands I held the last of his things, his shoes, belt, his watch I had got him for Christmas that year, and his wedding ring.
When it came time, I was escorted back into the emergency waiting room, and still there wasn’t a soul in there. It was so quiet I could hear the creak of the chair as I sat down. One of the hospital security guards came over, asked if he could sit with me while I waited for the sheriff’s deputy to come pick me up. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then he said, you’re going to be okay. My thoughts inside couldn’t imagine how I would ever be okay. He went on to tell me that he had also lost someone dear to him, his wife several years ago, he raised his children and eventually met someone new.
I tried so hard to be polite, tried to appear like I was listening to his story, but the very thought of moving on without Chris was unbearable. Unimaginable. I thought how could anyone say this to me? I clung to his things even harder and practically ran to the deputy’s truck when I saw it drive up. I watched the streets pass by not really hearing a word the deputy was saying, I felt as if my heart had been shattered into a million pieces. My mind scattered into various thoughts, all flooding me at once.
Once I arrived back home, I made sure my tears were gone and I told myself to be strong for my children. The rest of the early morning was a blinding blur of phone calls and deciding on different factors. One of which was making the decision of him being a donor, my middle son and I decided together. My husband was able to help three other lives that night.
My life, our life had been washed away by a tide I never saw coming. I learned that everyone handles grief differently, I also grew more appreciation for the little things in life. It’s been two years, five months and twenty-five days since I last saw his face, kissed his lips and felt his embrace. I have kept everything he has written, even his last emails, and this was the last thing he wrote before I received the call.
I love you and will be home shortly.

 

 

Writing goals for 2017!

It’s amazing to think it is 2017! Where has the time gone? I ask myself this every single day, and everyday I plan to accomplish a word count or a scene, half a scene or something! But, and I hate to say it my writing groove has vacated the premises. I realize since August 2015 things haven’t been quite the same, and without him it’s been quite a challenge for me to commit whole-heartedly to writing.

How does one pick up after losing your number one confidant? I mean he’s the reason I started the journey of writing. Midnight (the second book in the No Death for the Wicked series) was the last book he was reading, so in saying all this Memoirs of a Superhero will be my first novel without his loyal support and his loving encouragement.

Don’t get me wrong. My heart still beats  fervently for writing and I have a couple of stories brewing inside me, but if I can stick with my goals for this year, like completing Memoirs of a Superhero. And pursuing  Mary Jane (the next installment in the Deadwood short stories) and Citeron (book two in the Veil Realms series), well I think you get the picture – it’s time to get the ball rolling!

So without further ado, here’s a little snippet of Memoirs of a Superhero –

“Lacey? I think Mia might reschedule for this weekend and you haven’t been to Mr. Lockwood’s residence yet…would you consider it?” Remi questions, she eases back in her chair donning a candid grin. All eyes fall directly on me and before I can protest and throw in all my analytical reasons, Remi points her long pink painted nail at me and chides, “You work the desk night and day, Lacey, and we think you need a break from the office.”

“We?” I query pushing my glasses farther up the bridge of my nose. I roam my eyes around the break room, not sure how this even came about, my role behind the desk has been cyclical, maybe even trite at times. A thought surfaces to my mind as I guzzle down the rest of my coffee, my life is structured by the book, straight and orderly. Precisely, from seven to five I’m a business owner. After hours, I make excuses as to why I can’t meet for drinks or late night dinners. My time is consumed with cheats and low-lives stalking the streets of Fairwater. And as of late, things crime wise, have been rather dull. Exactly the same for my love life, dismally and pathetically dull. I step over to the sink and rinse out my  coffee mug debating with who would be a better candidate than myself. “Remi, don’t you have one other client early Saturday morning? Mr. Lockwood’s appointment isn’t until five-thirty…”

“Oh, Lacey… don’t start to pencil me in just yet,” Remi replies jumping to her feet, her full-figured hip leans against the counter-top. “I have plans remember? Rob’s taking me to a concert Saturday night, besides we all think you need to check out Mr. Lockwood’s place.” Her arms fold over her chest as she quietly nods, urging everyone around us to agree. The room strums with approval.

“We?” I mumble again. “I know what you’re trying to do Remi—”

“What? Take a peek at a guy that looks too good to be true?”

I wave toward the laptop, the same laptop still showcasing his handsome face and explain, “I already know what he looks like…”

She moves closer. “But with his shirt off?”

“What?!” My brows scrunch together in surprise, my cheeks warm with heat and I can’t seem to do anything else except blink. “Wha—whenwhy were you watching him get dressed?” I mumble out.

She taps a nail along her forearm and says, “He was undressing.” She emphasis the un part with a growing smile and adds, “I had just brought Nibs home from our evening walk and he barreled past me slinging off his shirt and ran upstairs. I wasn’t sure if I should go see where the fire was, but for a split moment I knew there was a God because I had just been graced by the most well-defined man on the planet.”

Mia pipes in, “I wasn’t as lucky, but last weekend I was hanging Nibs’ leash up in the foyer when I noticed clothes flung all across the floor. His expensive Stefano dress shoes were chucked off to one side and then there were his slacks, jacket and shirt sprinkled all over the steps. The way it looked to me, he wasn’t alone and whoever she was did an amazing job of stripping him down.”

“And why is this any concern of ours? I smirk trying to act aloof. This is the last thing I need in my life, a charismatic, attractive egocentric male parading his manliness around.

“Don’t you think he sends off this vibe like he’s some sort of lone wolf? A riddle to be solved?” Donna quizzes standing up. She tips her short pixie cut blonde hair to one side and glances at the screen. “He’s single, never been married, moved here just a few months ago and owns some sort of notable technology company.” She sits on the edge of the table tallying off each point. “His company doesn’t even reside here…”

“So?” I state and walk toward the laptop. “It’s his business, he can operate anywhere in the world, that doesn’t necessarily make him an anomaly.” I tap a few keys and close his profile. “But, just to prove a point that there’s nothing riddling about this man I’ll go.”

Donna runs her hand down my forearm, her neatly trimmed brows lift as she offers, “Lacey, believe me when I say, some men make sense, some are work driven slaves, some have their secret addictions, sex, drugs to online pornography, but Mr. Lockwood, he’s something entirely different and you’re—

“And I’m going to come back Monday morning and tell you he’s nothing more than a boring reclusive man.”

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Memoirs of a Superhero – coming soon!                                     Copyright © 2017 Karli Rush

A sneak peek into Midnight – Book 2 in the No Death for the Wicked series

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If you’re a Rush fan or have read Daylight and have been anxiously waiting for book 2 in the No Death for the Wicked series, well…  please bear with me.

As some might already know, I have recently lost my best friend, my husband. He passed away August 13th and I have been completely and utterly lost without him. I know some may say it’s too soon or take it slow, which I am. But, the one thing that has always kept me grounded is writing, my husband used to always say he loved it when I wrote simply, because it fueled me with life. Writing helps me on so many different levels and I know it’s the one thing he would want me to continue even with him gone.

With that being said, here’s the first chapter to Midnight. I’m working on it here and there, whenever I get the chance, mostly nights since sleep evades me. Also, I would like to mention before I cozy up to write, (book one) – Daylight should be out in audio very soon. I will post links as soon as I can and I hope you enjoy the beginning taste of Mattie and Graham’s next story.

© 2015 Karli Rush

Chapter One

“A stake through the heart…” I flip another page and grumble, “Exposure to the sun.” Another page. “Decapitation.” And another. “Starvation.” I roam my eyes over to Graham, annoyed.

“Where’s the good stuff in this fossilized book?”

He directs a shimmer of a glance my way, but still keeps his blue eyes on the ill-lit road. The city of Solace is a distant memory, but one I will not soon forget. Graham found a set of wheels for us, more like a war machine. A Gothic black 1965 Buick Rivera, to travel the wastelands, the barren lifeless roads. Each mile means I’m that much farther away from the Elites. The elites are hunting us, and every pit stop we make, someone’s watching us. So, whether it’s a cashier at a gas station or a hitchhiker wandering the dusty roads, Graham makes sure they have no breath to reiterate what or who they just saw.

“There’s more in the book, Mattie,” Graham reveals, and magically flicks the pages backward with a simple gesture from his finger. His unworldly succulent eyes study me. “Bleed,” he says in a deep and throaty tone.

The only way I can read the book in my lap, the Voynich’s book, is for a drop of vampire blood to touch the page. I press my nail into my hand and squeeze the ruby-red blood from my palm. The crimson fluid turns into ink and the encrypted symbols begin to form into words. Readable, fluent sentences appear, and I start to decipher what I’m seeing.

“Vampires have existed since the dawn of man, and since that time, the two races have been at war. Both fighting for their own instinctual survival. Mankind had daylight on their side, to them vampires were nothing more than a menace.

The vampires ruled the night, but were also reliant on the humans… for their blood. After centuries of bloody war the humans believed they had finally won, and fell into a state of complacency, but the vampires, concealed by shadows of night, discovered another race being hunted and persecuted by the humans… witches.

These two formed an alliance and began slowly developing a strategy to infiltrate and take over humanity, without mankind ever knowing. First, a serum was created, giving them the one thing the humans had advantage of, the sun. Now the nightwalkers walk the day, and soon all aspects of society will be within our grasp. In five hundred years, we shall rule the world.”

As soon as my last word expels from my lips the sentences fade, no words, no ancient scribbly handwriting, not even a hint that my blood had even spilt there.

“So all this time humans think that vampires are mere stories of myth and forgotten legends, but in fact they’re the ruling class of humanity. How ironic— wait a minute… how many cities are there like Solace?”

Graham hits the lights, deadening the path in front of us even more, and steers the car off the road. The town, Shadow Hills, caps the dry scenery in the distance. Graham slips out and scouts the area. He walks, no that’s not accurate, he glides toward the front of the car. His long trench coat whispers along the ground as he waits a breath before he answers me.

“There are more cities like Solace than you would like to know about, Mattie.”

“So, we’re fucked?” I quip getting out, my eyes roam around the dreary landscape. I set my hope for blood on a metaphorical shelf for now and stride toward the back of the car. I slam my fist hard against the dusty metal and watch as vials of daylight shine like the Holy Grail from the trunk. I slide one translucent bottle from its precious cushioned protection and inspect it. The entire trunk is filled with cases of daylight, and if I’m careful, it will last me a couple of years. But, if I am not, I may just end up being a flesh-skinning nightwalker and that’s not a go-to option for me.

Graham motions over at the horizon just as the sun breaks through the early morning light. I quickly slip the vial back in its snug, tight concealment and make sure the cases are securely closed before I slam the trunk shut. I might be able to go a few days without needing another dose, but a thousand or so vials of daylight won’t last me forever. In the book it mentions witches, an alliance between us and them. And how they conjured the serum, now, all I need is a witch.

“Your friend… she’s there,” Graham announces and shifts his provocative eyes toward me.

“How do you know? You have a thing for witches too?” I sass meeting his pace, his body meets mine. We’re close to touching but not. I swallow hard watching as he licks his full sinful lips. He’s been careful not to touch me since we hightailed it out of Solace, all of his energy and concentration has solely been on keeping us safe. But now, I can see his sexual frustration building, he wants to touch me, he needs to touch me.

Finally, his right hand ensnares around my waist, pressing our hips closer. His blue eyes scour over my face as if he’s deciding on how he wants to take me. “Witches? No… They couldn’t survive my ways, they’re not nearly wicked enough.”

“Good books don’t give up all their secrets at once.” ― Stephen King

Mindnight banner for blog

When I first started writing out the story for ‘Daylight’ which is the first book in the No Death for the Wicked series, it was for a Halloween anthology dedicated to a charity. It was meant to be a short story with a limited word count and a wonderful opportunity to write with so many talented writers. As most now know the story has evolved and I am currently writing book 2 Midnight. As soon as I am finished with Midnight I will announce the release date, which I’m hoping will be sometime next month.

It is the ultimate challenge, writing a book with balance. As an author, I want to write a book that is capturing, intriguing and brings you along as my characters live out their lives. But here’s the thing with my writing, I write what the characters show me, they are the ones that take me down the writing path. I follow their lead.  Do I want to be an author that is too easy? Predictable or boring? Well I certainly hope not, but do I want to give up everything to you in the first book? No, I don’t. I want you to desire for more, to have unanswered questions that stick with you and allow the secrets not yet whispered into your ear to bring you along as the full story unfolds, whether it’s one stand alone book or a series.

Daylight, my first book in the No Death for the Wicked series, is a great example of this. I understand that my readers are open minded, thought provoking, and intelligent.  So, I don’t fill my book with explanations of why a Reaper (Graham) and a young vampire (Mattie) have an instant attraction. Book two, Midnight, will bring more of this to light and book three, (Untitled) will wrap it up.

I also don’t dive into much of the backstory of Mattie or Graham because the first book is more of a discovery into who they are right now. How they handle themselves in different situations. What are their boundaries, or restrictions? What are their strengths or weaknesses?

There is so much in Daylight that can be expanded on, and that’s the fun part of a series. Why was Mattie so stuck in being young?  How did Mattie’s Mother Dearest control and use her? Why is Graham so thunderstruck with Mattie? Why can’t Mattie get enough of Graham? What’s the deal with the serum Daylight? How is the serum made? What’s the rest of the world like outside of Solace? Are there other vampires out there? How does Pandora fit into the picture going forward? Or does she? Why wasn’t Krew a truly evil bastard? Was he really meant to be the villain or just someone representing the other side?

All of these questions and much more are set into Daylight for a reason. The answers are my secrets. Secrets to be whispered to you as you read along with the rest of the series. And that’s the real trick isn’t it? In Midnight you’ll find out more about the questions above, more secrets will rise up too. The one thing you can rest assured is that I will always wrap up my books with a nice little bow at the end so that you’re not left hanging.

 

Midnight coming soon…

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Cover reveal for Midnight – book 2 in the No Death for the Wicked series

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Midnight book 2

Synopsis

I have what I came for, the serum they call Daylight, and him. Graham is a dangerously seductive Grim Reaper who shadows my every move. I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing, necessarily. Now, a clan of unforgiving elite vampires hunting me down by night, that’s a downer.

Why? Why would another vampire, especially the ‘Elites’, care if I walk the streets by day? It’s because I have something they want.

The Voynich manuscript, a book you wouldn’t believe is real unless you’ve seen it with your own eyes. Bound in the skin of an unnamed animal, this legendary book contains the history and knowledge of all vampires that walk this earth, and I have it.

They hunt the nights searching for me. I walk in the light of day trying to keep one step ahead of them, but what happens when my Reaper’s last grains of sand run out, forcing him to return to the underworld?

What will win? Love or revenge?

Join Mattie in this unique vampire love story with a gritty Gothic twist as we find out how far she will go to keep what she has.
 Release date to be announced.