Wham! Wham! Wham! Three loud bangs against the heavy wood of her front door jerked Evonie Robinson out of her sleep. “What the hell?” Evonie groaned as she squinted at the red display of the Alexa on her bedside table. It was 3 a.m. Wham! Wham! Wham! Three more heavy knocks rolled through the older shotgun home. The knocks were so heavy that the walls of the old house shook.

     "I swear to God, if Marco is drunk again, I'll kick his ass," she yawned. She slid from her bed and pulled her heavy robe around her. Out of habit, she grabbed her cell from the bedside table and slipped it into a pocket. She yawned widely and wiped her face. Then, she trudged to her room's doorway and turned to the front door. Her younger brother was the only person with the balls to knock on her door at this time of the morning. And it was usually after a party, and he’d gotten fucked up. After a night of clubbing, her home was closer than the campus. So, it was his unofficial hangover recovery spot.

     Three more knocks rang out when she was three feet from her destination. Her aggravation at being pulled out of her sleep turned to anger as she reached for the deadbolt. “What the fuck, bruh?!” She yelled as she undid the last lock. “Are you so drunk that you can’t remember how to put a key―” Evonie’s voice failed her when she flung open the door. Instead of finding a drunk sibling, she was face-to-face with brown fingers holding the badge and shield of one of Charlotte, North Carolina’s finest.

     All the aggravation and anger at being woken up in the middle of the night disappeared. They were replaced with varying emotions that Evonie had to bite her lip to contain. Evonie's chest heaved. Her expression was blank. She shifted her gaze between the badge and its owner. It took a few seconds for Evonie to find her calm and focus. When she did, she saw a hand waving back and forth.

     “Are you all right, Ms. Robinson?” the officer asked.

     Evonie blinked and took a step back. “I’m sorry, what?”

     “I asked if you were all right,” the officer stated as he slipped his credentials into a pocket. “You look a bit out of it if you don’t mind me saying so.”

     “It’s three in the morning,” Evonie frowned. “How am I supposed to look when I get woken up in the middle of the night?”

     “Fair enough,” the detective nodded. “My name is Detective Kirkland,” he said and offered a hand. 

     “I remember,” Evonie said as she glanced at the outstretched hand but didn’t take it. Instead, she leaned past him and scanned the street. Everything looked quiet, but she had her fair share of nosey neighbors. She didn’t need eyes on her house. She pushed open the door and took a few steps back. “Do come in. Close the door behind you.”

     “Alexa, turn on the living room lights,” she called out as she rounded a small wall and headed for a couch. “You can have a seat there.” She pointed at a leather recliner.

     Detective Kirkland looked at the chair and frowned. “You don’t seem all that surprised to see me,” he said as he sat down.

     “You’re here about Jessica,” she sighed as she sat down. “She was kidnapped two, no, three days ago. I’m her nanny. I spoke with you and your partner the day she was taken and four other officers since then. Why would I be surprised? I’ve been waiting for an update.”

     She paused a moment and let go of a heavy sigh. “Although I’ll be honest, I thought her parents would be the first to contact me with any news. We’ve spoken numerous times since…” Evonie’s voice cracked and faded to nothing. She frowned at the detective and let go of a shaky breath. “If you’re here, it can’t be good.”

     Evonie sounded drained. Her voice tone was monotone and almost void of emotion. Almost. Detective Kirkland’s face softened. “Well, Ms. Robinson, I do have news, and it is good. Jessica was found almost three hours ago.”

     Both hands flew to Evonie’s mouth as she tried to hold back a loud sob. Large tears slipped down the slopes of her ebony cheeks, and she began to rock back and forth.

     Detective Kirkland lowered his eyes, giving her the illusion of privacy as she dealt with her emotions.
After moments of tears, whispered thanks, and rocking, Evonie righted herself and looked at the detective. “Thank God,” she managed to say after she collected herself.
 
     Detective Kirkland nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on Evonie as she composed herself. “Thank God indeed," he echoed quietly, sensing the weight of the moment. “Jessica is safe now. A night guard found her wandering around a storage facility. She was…well, she’s with her parents at CMC now, getting checked out.”

     “Okay. Okay,” Evonie muttered as her mind raced. She stood up, sat back down, and stood again as if she were unsure of what to do next. “I need to go,” she muttered again and stood up. Evonie looked at the detective and sighed. “I need to get to the hospital,” she said again. This time her voice was firm and sure.

     Detective Kirkland held up a hand and shook his head. “I’m not quite done yet, Miss Robinson,” he said. The compassion from earlier was gone, replaced with a coldness that made Evonie pause.

     “With all due respect, whatever else you have to say can wait until after I’ve seen Jessica,” she frowned. She began to walk to the front door.

     “The guard also found the men that took her,” Detective Kirkland offered. “We couldn’t take them into custody because two of them are dead.”

     Evonie froze. “Two?” She slid her hand into her pocket and pressed her thumb to unlock the screen. As she turned back to the detective, she glanced down at her phone before letting go of a shaky breath. “There were three of them.”

     “You don’t sound surprised, Ms. Robinson,” Detective Kirkland frowned. “Why is that?”

     Evonie glanced at the door and then nodded. “I think I’ll sit back down,” she said. But before she did, she stopped at a small desk and pulled a thick journal from a drawer.  “You look like we’re about the same age,” she said as she walked by the detective. “We grew up in a different time. I mean, we had the internet, but there was still so much information that wasn’t as available as it is now.”

     She dropped the book onto the coffee table, and it hit with a loud thud. Detective Kirkland narrowed his eyes at Evonie and sighed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see―”

     “Nowadays a kid can dig up all kinds of things,” she continued, cutting him off, “things that weren’t meant to be dug up. Or maybe things that they thought were made up but turned out to be real.” Evonie waved a hand through the air and shook her head. “Either way, the damage is done.”

     “Now exactly what damage are you talking about, Ms. Robinson?” Detective Kirkland held up his phone and enlarged a picture. A grainy traffic cam photo showed her. One kidnapper's shoulder was in her hand. The other two were walking Jessica to a waiting car. “The damage done to Jessica from the kidnapping you arranged? Or maybe the two men you killed to try and cover it up? This is you patting one of the kidnappers on the back?”

     “What happened to the third man?” Evonie sighed. The sigh was a bone-weary thing that hung in the air between them.

     Detective Kirkland gasped as if the sigh had stolen his breath. “Why don’t you tell me?” he said after a moment.

     “I know that he was attacked,” Evonie spat. “What condition is he in? Is he going to make it?”

     “He is,” the detective admitted, “but he’s got a long road to recovery ahead of him.” He frowned at Evonie as he opened a recording app on his phone. “My partner thought that I was crazy when I suggested you as a suspect. He―”

     “Do you know that three is a sacred number in almost every religion known to man, both past and present?” Evonie asked, cutting him off again. “The Holy Trinity, The Trimurti, The Norns, The Fates…Hecate.”
“What does that―”

     “Those are just a few,” Evonie continued, ignoring the detective’s interruption. “There are so many more, much older, vengeful things that we once worshipped but were lost to time.” She picked up the discarded journal and tossed it to the detective.

     “But what is lost can, unfortunately, be found,” Evonie said. The sadness from earlier was back.

     Detective Kirkland caught the book and narrowed his eyes at Evonie. “Ms. Robinson, I have no idea where you’re going with this, but I do know that I’m about to call this in and place you under arrest.”

     “Your partner saw the same picture you showed me, right?” she asked. “And he still thought you were crazy. Maybe that’s because what looks like cooperation to you looks like I’m trying to keep him from walking away to someone else.”

     She pointed at the journal in the detective’s hands and frowned. “I’ll give you the confession you want, but first you need to why…the truth.”

     “And what is that truth, Ms. Robinson?” Detective Kirkland spat. “What could make a woman who claims to love a child, whom she's cared for for three years, arrange for her kidnapping and torture, then tear apart her accomplices like a rabid animal?”

     “I love Jessica as if she were my own,” Evonie said. Her voice cracked, and tears began to pool in her eyes. “Any part I played in this I did for her," she said with a shake of her head. “She’d been acting off for so long. It wasn’t until I found her journal and the strange pictures that she’d written inside that I began to think outside of the box. Her parents thought I was crazy for suggesting it. But, I know that there are many things in this world that challenge rational minds. My great-grandmother was a root doctor, and her daughter after her. I don’t practice, but I honor my ancestors in my own small ways.”

     Detective Kirkland's expression shifted from skepticism to guarded curiosity. He looked at the journal in his hands. Its worn cover and pages held the desperate scribbles of an unstable child. His fingers traced the edge of the book, and he began to flip through it. He glanced at the strange drawings and symbols that filled each page.

     “What am I looking at here?” he asked, his voice tinged with impatience.

     “A type of cuneiform," Evonie sighed. “It took three months to find someone to translate those pages. A professor at the University of Cairo. I spent three weeks making constant phone calls and sending emails to get him to pay attention to us. He thought that we were pulling a scam, but when we sent him videos of Jessica, he agreed to help.”

     Kirkland turned the journal's pages, his face falling with each entry. “Is this written in blood?” Brown, rust-colored scribbles filled the white lines. They barely passed for a written language.

     “Her nails had gotten so long that she could cut herself and use them like twisted little fountain pens.”

     Kirkland sucked his teeth and clamped the journal closed. “What are you trying to say, Ms. Robinson?”

     "I'm saying that Jessica found an infernal summoning ritual online. Her friends dared her to carry it out, and she did.”

     “No,” Detective Kirkland shook his head and tossed the book back on the table. “You’re not going to sit there and use some mumbo jumbo bullshit as a cover for crimes you committed.”

     “Something answered, Detective Kirkland,” Evonie said. Tears were flowing over her cheeks and dotting her clothes. “Something so old that there are no names for it. Something hungry, and it began to use Jessica to get what it wanted.”

     “Stop! Just stop talking,” Detective Kirkland barked as he stood and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his side. There was a shakiness to his voice that he couldn’t hide. Evonie couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger, but she noted it nonetheless.

     “I’ve seen what she does to cats and dogs,” she said with a slow shake of her head. “I can only imagine what those two men looked like when the guards found them.” She tilted her head to one side and wiped the tears from her face. “Did they lose their stomachs? I know I did each time. Nothing can prepare you to see something like that, even if you’ve seen it before.”

     Detective Kirkland’s hand began to shake ever so slightly.

     Evonie clocked the small tremble and nodded her head. He was listening, so she continued.

     “The professor told us the thing inside Jessica was older than the Ogdoad of ancient Kemet. He couldn't find a name for it. It would only call itself Before. It was a thing of three faces. Each one hungrier than the next.”

     “Hungry for what?” The detective’s voice was little more than a whisper.

     “Souls, detective. Animals can’t sustain it any longer. It needs souls.”

     "Enough of this shit," Detective Kirkland said. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Then, he crossed the room and grabbed Evonie by the arm. “Evonie Robinson, you are under arrest for kidnapping and murder.”

     Evonie didn’t resist. She kept talking as the detective slipped the cold metal cuffs around her wrists. “I never wanted any part of what my grandmother did. I was raised in a Baptist house. As far as my other grandmother is concerned, practicing witchcraft is a one-way ticket to hell. But for this, I needed protection.”

     “You have the right to remain silent―”

     “When I called my grandma and told her what was going on, she begged me to let it go,” Evonie continued, cutting him off again. “When I told her I meant to see it through, she called in some favors to make sure that I would have what I needed to be okay. Three of them.”

     “Shut up!” Detective Kirkland barked as he pulled Evonie towards her front door. “Anything you say can and will be used against you―”

     “One was a way to make sure that I couldn’t be taken from this house against my will,” Evonie said calmly. “I know you’re only trying to do your job, but I won't be going anywhere.”

     Detective Kirkland ignored her as he opened the door and stepped across the threshold. “You have the right to an―” He stopped on the covered porch. All of his body except for the hand that was holding Evonie’s arm was outside. The hand holding her was suspended in midair, unable to move past the doorway as if there was an invisible barrier preventing it.

     “What the fuck?” He whispered as he pulled again. His arm wouldn’t budge. He reached inside, grabbed her with both hands and tried again. Still nothing.

     “Red brick dust,” Evonie sighed with a touch of sadness.

     The detective looked down and for the first time took note of the thin red line that crossed the open door.
“Got it charged with my blood and a few secret things from grandma,” Evonie explained. “Until I break the seal, I won't be going anywhere.”

     Evonie took a few steps back, away from the open door. “No,” Detective Kirkland barked as he watched Evonie move away from him. He pulled the corner of his shirt free, reached under, and drew his service weapon. “Whatever you did, undo it now,” he ordered her as he stepped back inside.

     "The second was a way to ensure, once the barrier was activated, no one could get in or out...except by my choosing," Evonie sighed.

     The detective looked outside, then back at Evonie, and lifted his gun higher. “Whatever magic you think you have isn’t working. I went out and came back in fine.”

     "For what it's worth, Detective, I am so very sorry." Evonie shook her head, unable to stop the tears. “Now that you’ve crossed back over, you won't be able to leave. You can’t call for help. The barrier blocks any connections you have to the outside world.”

     “You’re lying,” the detective said through clenched teeth. He walked backward to the door, never taking his eyes or his gun off Evonie. At the open doorway, he tried to step outside. But the same barrier that prevented him from removing Evonie blocked his escape. “No,” he said to himself. He punched at the opening, but it refused to give.

     “Take it down!” he yelled and raised the gun with a shaky grip. “I swear to God I will put a bullet in your head if you don’t let me out of this house right now!”

     “Now why would she do that when she went to all the trouble to keep you here?” someone asked from behind him. The unnerving voice had an accent that no one had heard in thousands of years. It was a deep, guttural thing. It rolled through both Evonie and Detective Kirkland, making them wince. But underneath the otherness, there was the echo of a small, higher-pitched voice. The sad, pleading voice of a scared child.

     A startled Kirkland jumped. The gun in his hands fired, sending a deadly bullet right at Evonie. The small bit of metal struck her in the chest. But, instead of boring into her skin, the bullet burst into thousands of metal shavings.

     Evonie didn’t look surprised at her miraculous escape from death. Instead, she looked down at her chest and then pulled one side of her robe aside. There, on her chest, was a fresh tattoo made up of symbols that Kirkland didn’t recognize.

     "The third was this tattoo. It's a strong veve. It protects against physical and spiritual harm.”

     “Smart,” the voice said again from the doorway. “With that, I won’t be able to take you after I leave the girl.”

     Detective Kirkland spun around. A slight creature, once young Jessica, smiled at him. The thing that wore the body of the twelve-year-old left no mistake of the imagination that it was anything other than something ancient. Ancient and malevolent. The darkness of the being poured off of the thin body like a pliable thing that filled the room, stealing all the oxygen and making both of them gasp.

     “What the hell?!” Detective Kirkland croaked as he took in Jessica’s state. He back peddled away from the open door where she stood on the porch and bumped into Evonie.

     Evonie tilted her head to look past the scared man and frowned at Jessica. Evonie uttered each word deliberately, "The agreement was to abandon her body. We never discussed your new…habitat, so to speak. Which is why her parents are already gone. I’ll call them back to collect her once she’s free and you are far away from here.”

     “Her freedom comes when I finish my dinner,” the thing that wore Jessica frowned. “Now let me in.”

     Detective Kirkland balked at Jessica. He stumbled away, waving his gun between the child's body and Evonie.

     “Don’t move!” Kirkland yelled, raising the gun even higher at Evonie.

     “I don’t have a choice.” Evonie wiped away a tear as she took her first, slow step towards the door.

     “I’ll blow your fucking head off!”

     “You can’t hurt me.”

     “Then I’ll blow hers off!”

     The thing that wore Jessica’s body laughed. “If you can’t hurt her, what makes you think you’ll do any better with me?”

     Evonie reached the door and grabbed her keys from the hook beside it. There among the collection of eclectic keychains was a small vial with a tiny cork topper. Viscous red fluid filled the vial. “Jessica’s mixed with mine,” Evonie mumbled as she removed the vial from her keyrings.

     “With this blood, I bind yours to mine and let you cross into this space,” Evonie said as she pulled the cork free. “With this blood, I bind you to your word and concentrate the agreement between the two of us.” Evonie dropped to one knee and tipped the vial. “With this blood, I rebind this home. Nothing may enter or leave without my will…not even sound.”

     The instant the liquid dripped onto the thin line of brick dust, a rush of air passed through the room. The thing that wore Jessica’s body lifted a hand and slowly passed it through the barrier. When it saw that the force field was gone, the thing began to laugh.

     “Please don’t do this,” Detective Kirkland pleaded to deaf ears.

     Evonie turned away from the thing that wore Jessica’s body and dropped her head.

     “Again,” she whispered as she headed for her room. “I am sorry, but I didn’t have a choice. She needs a third.”
When Evonie reached her bedroom, she glanced at Alexa as she walked inside. It was three thirty-three a.m. Everything in 3s. She closed her door as the screams started.
 
 

​ Now that my writing is back on track (knock on wood), I wanted to stop and take a moment to let you guys know what I have in the works. 
First on the docket is Faeries, Fangs, Fembots, and Fur. This will be my second anthology and it will have more than just stories set in the DarkWorld. There will be a mix of both fantasy and science fiction shorts. I am thrilled to announce that the anthology will include a story from the author, Eternity Philops.
Faeries, Fangs, Fembots, and Fur will be released on July 12th and is available for pre-order now on Amazon.
After Faeries comes the third Freaks title, Goose Creek or Bust, which will arrive in December of this year. Goose Creek or Bust will take us back to the Wolves of Goose Creek through the eyes of Still's younger sister, Maya. If you've read Ascension you'll know that Still and Maya's relationship was left a tad rocky due to the events of the book. (If you haven't read it, what are you waiting for?) Goose Creek or Bust will find their relationship on the mend, but a new set of problems will test the sisters in ways that could leave Still packless.
The first title of 2023 will come in the first half of the year. It will be the long-awaited direct sequel to Black Moon Rising, Twilight's End. Twilight's End will pick up directly after the events in BMR. We will not only find Val and Ire facing off against the Vampire Council to fight for their son, David, but we will also see them back in the FaeLands to deal with the fallout of FaeVar's actions. I know that for some, this one is long overdue. The wait won't be much longer.
2023 will also see the release of The Land of Not, the fourth Freaks title and the direct sequel to The Road the Was. The Land of Not will have an appearance from my favorite vampire/fae hybrid, Valeria Trumaine.
Aside from the third Faeries and Fangs anthology, I am unsure if any other titles will be ready for a 2023 release, but Retribution, the direct sequel to Ascension, The Sea of Is, the sequel to The Land of Not, as well as a direct sequel to Freak Among Freaks have all been outlined.
I can't wait to show you all what I have in store for my DarkWorld.
As always, thanks for the reads.

When time was young, the Morrigan foretold of their coming. A new Triad would rise that will lead the world down the Road to Was, and restore the Earth to as it was before the Great Divide. Over time the Morrigan’s prophecy became rhyme, and less and less people believed their words to be true.

The prophecy is real. Meet Theory, the first of the new Triad in April.

The Great Divide
​
The Earth as now is broken,
a glimmer of its former self.
It was one
but spells undone,
and single became triple at once.
The world of Was
long before time
was one less kind
and filled with mire.
For the former, Is
though undivided,
was a land of
mystics, magic, and fire.
Ruled by the Sidhe,
kings of Faerie and kin.
They were forces of nature.
Seasons changed at their whims.
Factioned in courts of
Light and Dark,
Summer and Winter
were the tops of the lot.
The best of the best
they saw in their own,
only worst in the other
so animosities growed.
Wars were waged.
Winters did rage
with the fury of the
Dark Court’s might.
The lands were scorched
by Light Court torches,
wielding Summer’s light.
Tenfold thousands of years,
carry on, yes they did.
But in silence
another force grew.
Though smaller in size,
and shorter of life,
and untrained in the arcane arts;
the dawn of mankind
signaled change and in kind,
opened the fair folk’s eyes.
They multiplied like the wind,
a thousand for six,
their numbers soon
flakes in a blizzard.
Thus the coming of man
signaled peace for Fae lands.
Light and Dark united as one
to hold hearth and home.
They took up the sword.
Blood rivers were wrought.
And with enchantment,
pierced mortal hearts.
But man would not fall;
their numbers a wall,
the Fae could not surmount.
So the High Court kings
pulled out of their sleeves,
a dark plan to force them out.
With the Mantle of Seasons,
and spells beyond reason,
they ripped the Was three apart.
One for Faeries and kin.
One for demon and ilk.
One for mortal born.
This they did.
But try as they might,
many bonds still held tight,
linking the realms to another.
So since time began
our world slowly mends,
healing to become whole again.
The time will come
when three will be born,
who shall travel the Road to Was.
And lead the Now
back to the Is,
that was before the Great Divide.
Sisters three they will be,
born the same of one mother,
shall be recognized as so:
One demon ilk with darkness of self.
One sidhe with elemental smarts.
One mortal born with a mask to be worn,
until the time to be, is was.
And how do we know
that their words are so,
when the Was is past, long forgotten?
The prophecy came
from the First Morrigan.
The keepers of order and right.
Though they foreshadow hope,
they issue this warning;
the Yet may still be undone.
For the Olden Sidhe kings
took an oath on all things,
that the Mantles of Seasons would rest.
Nevermore to adorn,
High Court royal arms.
A vow above all to be kept.
For the force of the seasons,
inside living beings
is the power to make three, none.
If the Mantles are worn
surely chaos will come,
and the Was could be Un.

When I first wrote Crimson Dawn, I envisioned it as an ongoing lesbian vampire series. I chose DarkLife Saga as the series’s name. If I remember correctly, the book’s first chapter was written in about an hour. Once that chapter was done, I stopped, went back, and worked on the backstory for the world that my characters inhabited. The more I wrote, I became compelled to delve into the lives of other supernatural creatures and write their stories.
​
Because of Marcus Daniels and his connections to Val, I intended for those first characters to be werewolves. But David was firmly entrenched in my thoughts, so the wolves had to wait. David’s story became Freak Among Freaks and the first YA DarkWorld story. Freaks picked up a decent audience on Wattpad, and I love YA fantasy, so I began fleshing out more of the teen side of my DarkWorld. I was so entrenched in the teen world that I outlined stories for witches and fae and was about to tackle werewolves when I got sidetracked.

That sidetrack was Black Moon Rising. I won’t rehash my struggles with BMR, but I was put off from writing for a while. When I returned, I was still wary of Val and Irulan, so it was finally time for my werewolves to shine. I knew I wanted Marcus to connect the two stories, but I wasn’t ready to tell his story. I considered telling Thade’s story, but it hadn’t come to me yet. And aside from that, I wanted another lesbian protagonist. I don’t remember the catalyst for Still’s creation, but as soon as I had her name, I knew that she would be the opposite of Val.

Where Val was accustomed to living her life in the spotlight, I wanted Still to be the anomaly. In a world where supernatural beings lived their lives in the open, Still would keep her status hidden. Where Val’s attraction to women was a revelation, Still would be an out, loud and proud member of the LGBTQ community. Once that was established, her backstory and supporting characters came quickly. Wolves of Goose Creek was born and would be an entirely new series set in the DarkWorld. Or so I thought.

After a few months of writing, I knew that line of thinking was a mistake. There was no way I would be able to keep up with separate series for each creature and do the same with the YA side. Not and keep my sanity intact. That’s when I thought about Kelly Armstrong and her Women of Otherworld books. She wrote about werewolves, witches, necromancers, and more, and they all fell under the same series title. Bazinga!

My DarkLife Saga became Tales from the DarkWorld. The YA stories would all fall in the Freaks series, and all my creatures, henceforth, would frolic together and live happily ever after. Well, not too happy because that would make for a boring story.
If you’ve read Crimson Dawn and its sequel and decide to read Ascension, you will recognize Marcus Daniel’s and get to see him in a role other than the Sentinel commander. If you haven’t read Crimson Dawn, you can jump into the DarkWorld with Ascension without any confusion. The stories are connected but not intertwined. Not at the moment.

Those stories are coming.

A timeline and reading order will be coming soon.                                                                                                                                            

It's been a while since I've written a blog post. It took me a long time to return to my novels and stories for many reasons. I stopped to focus on comics and learning the art of comic creation for a few years, which, as a 30 plus year comic lover, I had wanted to do since I was in high school. I found that I love to create comics. The world-building is just as fascinating and rewarding as the world-building I do when I write my stories.

The other reason was Black Moon Rising. I had never felt pressure when I wrote. Writing had always been a joy and an escape. But once Crimson Dawn was released and had begun to find an audience, people began to ask about the sequel. I had always planned one, and it was on my schedule, but when I write, it's like my characters talk to me, and I write because I feel compelled to share the story of whoever is talking to me at that time.

After spending so much time on Crimson Dawn, those characters were taking a break, and I was focused on other stories. But my publisher at the time began to ask me for the sequel. So then, not only did I have readers asking, I had my publisher pushing for another Val and Irulan book. So I stopped working on what I was doing and shifted to what would become Black Moon Rising.

While I love the story, I struggled to get it done. Each month that I wasn't finished, it got harder and harder to work on it. In the midst of working on it, my publisher ceased publishing fiction. My two previous works were returned to me, and I was told that I would be better off publishing myself. I was gobsmacked. Sure, I had self-published two short stories, but that was nothing like publishing a full-length novel.

To say that I felt defeated was an understatement, but I pushed through and finished the book. The version of Black Moon Rising that made its way to Amazon pains me. Reading what I made available to my readers makes me want to cry. I can do better, and I should have. But at the time, I just wanted to get something out there. I deserved every scathing review that I got. The editing is non-existent.

Black Moon Rising made me want to never rerelease another book. So I stopped writing and shifted to comics. I put it out of my mind and moved on. But I love writing. My characters and stories are my babies. I eventually came back to them, but I still ignored the mess that BMR was. I refused to look at it on Amazon or my KDP page. But I can't ignore it anymore. It's time for me to do better.
I have temporarily pulled it so I can edit it. I won't be making changes to the storyline itself. As I said, I do love the story. But it desperately needs some refining. And a new cover.
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Black Moon Rising will be back shortly.