I am soon to re-release this book, Faeries in Ravenwood, on March 17th. This book has been expanded extensively and is coming along. Here's a taste. I hope you enjoy:)
Late into the morning, dressed in jeans a t-shirt and wearing a wool poncho, with Lakota Native American designs, Morgan headed out to the front porch, where Claire and Tara waited. Opening the screen door, she glanced at one then the other. “We really going to do this?”
Claire blinked and raised a brow at her poncho, but she didn’t say anything. She also wore jeans, but she wore a deep purple tank top and a deep green, light fleece jacket. “The more I think about it—the more I know it’s our only option,” she admitted.
Compressing her lips as she stepped fully onto the deck into the bright sunlight, Morgan frowned but agreed. “I’m scared to death,” she admitted. “But I can’t think of another thing to do.”
Tara shifted her weight from one foot to the other in her hiking shoes and dark blue jeans, glancing at Claire, then eyed Morgan. “Same here,” Tara said. “I went through every scenario, but this appears to be our only viable option.” She wore a flannel button-up shirt and vest to help her stay warm against the early fall chill of the mountains, and as she looked out over the meadow, Morgan realized just how much she was ready to get this show on the road.
Looking at Morgan, Claire sighed. “Okay.” She stepped back inside the door and yanked her sweater-coat off the hall tree. “Let’s go.”
Morgan stared at her. “You’re going to wear that, too?” she said. It was cool, but it wasn’t that cold out. Morgan put her arm around her sister when Claire made a face at her.
“I’m always cold,” Claire said.
“Okay, okay,” Morgan said, throwing up her hands and grinning, “I won’t say anything more about it.” She glanced now across the meadow, too now, and frowned. “But I am rethinking this thing about leaving Thorick out of the loop.” She reached out her hand to Tara.
Taking a deep breath, Tara took her hand. “Today’s a good day to die,” she quipped.
“Where does that saying come from?” Morgan asked, following Claire off the porch.
“I saw it in an old movie,” Tara said, heading down the trail that would take them to where they’d cross into the Land of the Fae.” She started down the path they’d worn into the grass from walking it so many times.
They followed the trail along the meadow, and Morgan squinted across the deep, green grass in the bright sunlight, until they reached the woods. But just after they stepped into the forest, Thorick appeared in front of them—blocking the trail.
“You know this is crazy, right?” he said, looking at Claire, folding his arms over his chest.
Glancing at Claire and Morgan, Tara gave them both a smug look. “I told you he’d figure it out.”
Looking at his strong, foreboding form, Claire nodded. “I realize that. But we’ve run out of options,” she finally said.
Morgan’s gaze darted out from the shaded edge of the woods, back out across the meadow at the trail they’d just followed alongside the fence on the side of the beautiful pasture, still wet from morning dew. Taking a deep breath, she turned to gaze at Thorick.
Thorick still stared at her sister. “You will bring down the queen’s wrath down around your heads?” he warned. “And she’ll have my head for allowing you to go there.” He sighed. “How did you expect to cross the veil?” he finally asked.
Tara actually grinned at him. “We found a spell in the old Book of Shadows,” she said, her tone distinctly triumphant.
Morgan blinked at Tara. Her friend had lost her mind.
Thorick glared at Tara, then Morgan before his gaze narrowed on Claire. “Fine,” he relented, coming forward and kissing Claire. “I’ll take you across the veil, myself. We’ll see how well your spell works later when we have more time to mess around with it.” He headed down the trail. “But the rest is up to the three of you,” he flung over his shoulder.
