I’ve got a massive backlist out there, but I’m focusing mostly on my indie releases now, which a lot of my readers haven’t heard of yet. So we’re going to be putting up excerpts of the indie work I’ve done—both full length and short collections, each Wednesday, to encourage you to give my new work a try.
Today’s excerpt comes from Fury Rising.
Amazon Print: https://goo.gl/xCt2eT
“Right. The Wheel of Fortune: Change happens. If you try to hold it back, the Wheel will run over you, but take control and you’ll rise with it, stronger than before. Death: Transformation is occurring, with no escape. So embrace it. And the Queen of Wands: The queen of flames is the mistress of action. She is fury embodied, and passion and power. It’s time to stop shying away from who you’ve become. You became Fury the night you faced the Carver. Claim your name. Revel in what you are. That’s the only way you’ll ever be happy, regardless of what happens with my brother.”
What she said hit home with a thud.
Shevron led me back out to the main shop. “Liza, will you pull together a box of maple bars, éclairs, and donuts? A baker’s dozen. I’m going next door and I may not be back for the rest of the day, so you’ll have to watch the shop. Family emergency.”
As Liza prepared a box of pastries, Shevron turned back to me. “Go wash your face. And remember, I’ll be there with you.”
She winked, and—feeling like the little sister again—I headed toward the restroom where I splashed cold water on my face.
Shevron had always had my back. While Jason had done his best to make sure I went to school, was fed and clothed, and he tutored me in my magical lessons from Hecate, it was his sister who had tended to my emotional needs. She had guided me through puberty, helped me when I had boyfriend problems—though I always skittish around men. Basically, she became my role model. As much as I had loved my mother, Shevron had taken over and done a better job. She was born to nurture.
I splashed another round of cool water on my face, then brushed my hair back, staring at myself in the mirror. “Remember who you are,” I whispered.