#TeaserTuesday: Would Have Been Romantic

 

I evilly can't wait for everyone to read some of the big reveals in this installment. 

Almost there! Just a couple more chapters. Today's teaser is a rare calm moment. 

Alfie wasn’t thrilled about toting a second passenger. She tolerated Rune, because Tessa loved him, and had stroked her face and assured her that he would be a gentleman. She even liked him, ordinarily, her affection a genuine ripple of pleasure through the bond when Rune scratched behind her frill or offered her a scrap of meat from his dinner. But the distribution of weight on her back was different. She didn’t struggle, per se—Tessa would have put her foot down about taking Rune along if the test flight had proved unsuccessful—but there was an adjustment period, when they first started climbing into the sky.

Now, morning officially underway, the sun a washed-out lemon wedge along the horizon, they’d reached altitude and Alfie didn’t have to flap her wings so hard. She conveyed her comfort to Tessa, and Tessa, sitting forward in the saddle, hair streaming back from her face beneath her helmet, finally began to relax.

The view was breathtaking.

Jagged, snow-capped peaks pierced a layer of cloud so thick and opaque it looked like a fluffy bearskin rug rolled across the earth. The air was frigid up this high, as cold as the height of winter in Aeretoll; it stung her cheeks, made her eyes water. She was glad of Rune’s arms warm and strong around her; the heat of his chest pressed tight to her back.

Had they not been riding to their certain doom, it would have been romantic. 

Fearless Read-Along: Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

Finally, our long sojourn to the past comes to a close. Did anyone have to go back and peek at what was happening pre-flashback to get up to speed? No shame; i did it, too. It feels like an age has passed while we witnessed Ava and Mercy's disastrous first attempt at romance. But it means that, going forward, we know exactly what happened between them, and not only do their actions in the first part of the novel make sense, but we have underlying context for everything that's about to happen. Stylistically, I enjoy that gut punch of Part Two. You know from chapter one that they're exes, but now you know how painful it is to be around one another again. 

In Chapter Twenty-Eight, we have a sweetish brother/sister moment.

               “He’s outside, you know.” Aidan pretended to find the contents of his jerky bag fascinating.

               “I know.” She sighed again. “How f***ed up is it that I miss him?”

               “Pretty f***ed up.” He bumped her shoulder with his in what amounted to a big show of support from him. “But I get it.”

               “You do?”

               “Not even a little bit. Just being nice.”

               She snorted. “That’s a first.”

               “Hey, I’m nice. I’m super fucking nice.” Wicked half-grin. “Just ask Monique.”

               “Ugh.” She let her head fall sideways, so it was supported on his shoulder. “You’re hopeless.”

               “Kinda great, huh?”

               Ares looked between them, thumping his tail on the floor, hoping for another handout.

               “Hey, Aidan? Thanks for running the creep show off.”

               He made a dismissive sound.

And we have some world-building and plot movement on Maggie's end of things. 

The casket showcase had a view of the street through tall windows Maggie had always found ill-placed. Because of them, she and Jackie had been sitting ducks while they shopped. Flanders’ wasn’t the nicest funeral home in town, but it was one that had always served the Dogs, and for that, they were all loyal customers. Down a short, carpeted hallway, they found the owner, Byron Flanders, waiting for them amid the potted urns in the sunlit lobby. Bright rays slanted in through the front, white-swagged windows, finding the delicate hollows of the orchids and lilies.

               Flanders – narrow, petite, immaculate, almost effeminate – glided toward them in a tan summer suit, his footfalls silent on the short-napped carpet. “Ladies, I trust you found something that will suit?”

I love the world-building scenes. While I do use some real-life Knoxville landmarks, the shops and restaurants are all fictional. I feel like creating a tangible environment beyond the main characters' homes grounds the story in a way that lends credibility to the wilder, more extreme moments of action. Once you're fully submerged in the setting, and it feels like a real, walkable place, the plot is easier to accept. 

The chapter ends on a "dun-dun-DUN" note with the knowledge that the Carpathians are back in town, and likely out for revenge, given what Maggie tells Jackie here. 

Maggie bit down on her lip as one of the bikers plucked at her memory. “That one.” She tapped a finger at the glass. “The old president’s son. Jasper Larsen.”

               “How do you know that?” Jackie asked.

               Maggie sighed. “Because Mercy killed his father and uncle on Ava’s bedroom floor.”

White Wolf Read-Along: Chapter Six

Sasha was nineteen, and foolish enough to think his life would always be his.

In 1942, after the Battle of Moscow, Soviet leadership began conscripting young men and women from Siberia to refill the decimated ranks of the Red Army. The sad truth is, even if Nik and co. hadn't ventured to retrieve Sasha, he would have wound up a soldier regardless. 

It's hard to imagine, even as someone living in the United States, the incredible vastness of Siberia. It's true that they did, and do, think of themselves as "free," compared to their fellow Russians. The tsars largely left them to their own devices, and even the Bolsheviks failed to bring them under the boot heel the way they did with western Russia and the steppe lands. The weather's brutal, summers and winters severe in extremes, with short-lived springs and falls. But they were far removed from the revolutionary politics of Moscow, St. Petersburg, or Stalingrad (now Volgograd), and Sasha's attitude reflects this. He's not known the starvation and subjugation of urban Russians, and that furthers his already-natural sunny disposition. 

In this chapter, Sasha "meets," or is accosted by, rather, Nikita's strike team of Chekists. He obviously has no fine feelings about Nikita, but he notices him.

A few years older than Sasha, dark-haired, snowflakes melting on his jacket, his eyes hard and blue-gray. His face was handsome, but cruel. Shut up like a summer dacha, revealing nothing.

I tend to be what George R.R. Martin calls a "gardener" when it comes to writing long-form book series. I let relationships develop organically, and this oftentimes leads me away from an initial idea, and toward a more natural romantic pairing. As a character grows, so too does my idea of what a happily ever after might look like for them. 

But in this case, I planned for Nik and Sasha to end up together from the very beginning. It was just a sloooooow burn. I wonder how many people suspected that's what I was doing, or if it came as a surprise as the series unfolded. 

Sasha also meets Philippe, and is rightly suspicious of him.

His smile made Sasha think of the hunt, the moment of stillness when the sights were leveled and the trigger finger was ready. The held breath before the shot.

The Chekists were in the business of searching homes, confiscating valuables and daily staples alike, and raping wives and daughters. There's no way Sasha can refuse to go along with them, and he and his parents both know this. So does Philippe, which is why he uses fear to manipulate them.

"I don't think I have to tell you that they are not gentle men."

It's a quick peek into Nik's POV, but we see his extreme guilt complex at work. At this point, he just wants out, no matter what shape that takes.

This line of work would get him killed one day.
And it would be a relief. 

I got such a kick out of writing this first meeting knowing where the characters would end up down the road. Knowing that things get better, and that they find a little slice of happiness amidst the crazy. Also knowing how abrupt, frightening, and seemingly careless this meeting is, and how important they'll be to one another later. 

Substack Exclusive: Inherent Violence

Substack subscribers, it's here! Chapter One of Alex's story, Inherent Violence, is now available. This first chapter is free for everyone, so you can go read it and decide if you'd like to subscribe for future chapters. 

Here's the blurb:

Three months ago, former FBI agent Alex Bonfils buried his mentor, quit his job, bought a Harley, and followed his half-brother back to Knoxville with a brave idea that he would prospect the Lean Dogs MC. But now, living at an extended stay motel, the harsh reality of upending his life starts to take hold. He still hasn't made peace with his bloodline - with the violence that lives inside him - and he's exploring all options before turning fully toward the club.

Miranda Reddy is on the run. With her six-year-old daughter Casey in tow, she takes a job as a jumping instructor at Briar Hall Farm in Knoxville, working for Emmie Walsh. She likes her new boss, loves the farm, loves working with students and horses. But her frightening past is still very much a part of the present, and she can't decide if trusting the Lean Dogs - specifically Alex - is a safe bet, or even more dangerous than the threat she's fled. 

This is very much an experiment for me. I've had lots of questions about Substack, about how to subscribe, and about whether or not this book will wind up being published on Amazon. As for Substack, follow the link in line one to go read the chapter, and it'll prompt you to subscribe once you finish. You can subscribe for free, and have access to any free content I post, but will need to become a paid subscriber to read the rest of this story. 

As for a book version - I'm undecided. I'm still working on the Drakes and SoR, but I'm going to see how it goes with Inherent Violence before I make a decision on that. For now, I hope you'll join us on Substack, and I hope you'll enjoy Alex's story. 

 

Lord Have Mercy on Sale!

 

Today’s Throwback Thursday features Lord Have Mercy, which is on a massive one-week sale. The compiled ebook version, all 1,609 pages, is on sale for just $5.99. If you haven’t read Dartmoor Book Ten yet, now’s your chance to grab it for a greatly reduced price. Next Wednesday, the price goes back up to $15.96, so get it while you can.

In Lord Have Mercy, you’ll meet Alex, and he’s the star of my first Substack exclusive story, Inherent Violence, which starts posting tomorrow! Chapter One will be free for all readers, but the rest of the novel will be for paid subscribers only. I’ll post links and more info about it tomorrow. If you’re already familiar with Agent Bonfils, come join us over on Substack for bi-weekly chapters, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Fearless Read-Along: Chapter Twenty-Seven

 She’d been at school three weeks when Maggie’s usual phone call took on a shivery edge. They talked about class and Aidan’s typical stupidity back home as Ava picked through a microwavable lasagna at her tiny apartment table. All alone. No roommates. Just her and her books and her mother’s voice.

               Maggie said, her words becoming tiptoe careful, “I got a phone call today.”
               Ava knew, before she swallowed her burned hunk of noodles, exactly who’d called. “Really?” she asked, tone casual, as her heart accelerated.
               “Ava,” Maggie said. “I gave him your address.”

And here we have Maggie Teague once again winning Mother of the Year. 

Okay, that's not fair, and I don't really mean it. I always let the readers decide whether Maggie is a "good" or a "bad" mom. For me, she's not only a sympathetic one, but an empathetic one. She understands Ava's heartbreak acutely. When she cries when they drop Ava off in Georgia, she's sad to be away from her baby, yes, but mostly she's very afraid of Ava's mental state. From detachment, to outburst when Mercy left Knoxville, and back to complete and total detachment - shutdown, even - Ava presents a portrait of very shaky mental stability. Likewise, she knows Mercy isn't doing well, to put it mildly. When he calls, she weighs the pros and cons of telling him where Ava is. She decides - or hopes, rather - that, out from under Ghost's judgmental gaze, they can comfort one another. 

Needless to say, the comfort's a little cold. 

               Mercy’s large, rough hand settled in the middle of her back, a warm brand against her skin, some silent communication she didn’t know how to read.

               “I don’t know you anymore,” she said again, voice broken and shivery, “and that’s the worst part.”

               She listened to him get to his feet, straighten his clothes. He kissed her, one lingering stroke of his lips against the top of her head, and he left. Again.

               The next morning, as she pressed a cool washcloth to the dark circles under her eyes, she cut him out of her heart for good.

               At least, she thought she did.

There are always things that I know that the audience doesn't. If we play the What If game with this chapter, Mercy would not have broken down the door if Ava hadn't opened it. Both of them know this, but the threat of it offers Ava a glimpse of his pain. A small one, and one that, after they've crashed together on her apartment floor, she's able to dismiss in the face of her own pain, and post-coital clarity/regret. 

Instead of reconciling, Mercy and Ava both walk away from this moment with nothing but another helping of hurt. 

I've said it before in these read-along posts, but going back ten years later and truly reading the book, word for word, as opposed to keyword searching to write later books, hits totally different than when I was writing it. While writing, I'm mentally rubbing my hands together. "Haha, yes, this is going to be so angsty!" But coming at it from a reader, it's just sad. It's tragic, and stressful, and frustrating. I find myself most frustrated with Mercy, because he won't tell her here what happened; he should have totally thrown Ghost under the bus, professed his undying love for her, and lived happily ever after. I understand now why I get all those "I was so angry!" responses. And I love it. 😈

This marks the last of the big flashback chapters. Next time, it's back to present day, and all the chaos that's about to unfold. 

A New Venture

 

I started a Substack! 

If you're asking yourself "what the heck is a Substack?" you're not alone. I've had lots of questions about it on FB and Insta.

Substack is a digital newsletter platform that allows readers to subscribe to an author and receive regular updates, essays, articles, and, in my case, fiction stories. I posted a two-part Reel on Instagram yesterday in which I talked about the struggle of maintaining something like a paycheck as an indie author. 2024 and 2025 have been slow - downright glacial - years as far as sales and audience growth go, and so I'm going to try something new. With Substack, I can expand readership through exclusive, paid content; a safer, monthly income approach as opposed to spending six months writing a book and then failing to meet a sales quota. I still plan to release books, the Drakes, for instance, but I'm going to use Substack as a way to provide future Dartmoor content.

For more info, head over to me welcome post, see what you think about what I've laid out, and, if you'd like, subscribe! I'd love to see you there. It's free to subscribe, and as a free subscriber, you'll always have access to my free content.

Welcome to my Substack