Six Sentence Sunday time...

And once again it’s from BURN, which is now available everywhere!

~~~

A sharp burst of gunfire bit through the noise echoing up the stairwell; bullets pinged off the walls and sparks flew.

“Run,” Kaiden said, even as he stopped and swung off his backpack.

I bolted up the steep steps, keeping a grip on the central support in an effort to stop another fall. The musk of the drakkons sharpened. We were close. So close.

There was another explosion, and the shaking in the stone under our feet grew more violent. This time, it wasn’t just dust that rained down but also chunks of stone. I flung my free hand over my head in a vague effort at protection and raced on.

~~~

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Six Sentence Sunday time again...

and seeing BURN is out this Tuesday (YAY!), here’s another teaser…

~~

Am here. Will help.

The voice cut through my thoughts like a sunbeam through rain, and hope surged. Oma?

Yes. Mareritt will burn. For you. For me.

She dropped through the clouds and swooped toward the checkpoint, her scales gleaming like bloody diamonds in the morning sunshine.

I ran after her.

~~

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Another Six Sentence Sunday post...

But this time, it’s from the beginning of Wicked Wings (aka Lizzie 5). It’ll be out Oct 2019

~~

“You’re the scrawniest, most ungrateful, pig of a cat I’ve ever had the goddamn misfortune to come across, you know that?”

The cat in question stared at me with a look that could only be described as utter satisfaction. He was an orange tabby with a pale fluffy mane that made him look like a miniature lion, and a coat that had random tufts of fur sticking out at odd angles. He looked older than Methuselah, even though he was only a little over three. The spirit within the cat, however, was not young.

~~

Six Sentence Sunday time...

And it’s another teaser from BURN. There be drakkons in this book…

***

She hit the ground with an audible thump, the claws at the end of her good wing digging a deep ditch in the soil as she fought to remain upright. Her injured wing dragged behind her, bent, useless, and bloody. Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away. This drakkon was not my drakkon. She didn’t even belong to any of the graces I’d grown up with. She was an unknown, and that made her dangerous. I might be somewhat immune to drakkon fire—long exposure would eventually kill me, but my uniform was fireproof and I could use my own flames as a shield to protect my head when I wasn’t wearing a helmet—but I was as vulnerable to teeth and claws as anyone else.

***

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(other links coming soon)

Six Sentence Sunday time...

and this one is from BURN, which comes out June 11

***

With a deafening whoomph, the missile hit the side of the wall twenty or so feet behind the cart. Debris and heat spun through the air, pummeling the cart and tearing holes in metal and skin. The cart rocked violently, but somehow the rollers clung on, and we sped on into the darkness.

Another flash of fire. Another whoomph.

This time, the missile hit the wall just behind the cart. The force of the explosion not only blew apart a massive section of mountain but sent the cart tumbling end over end

***

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(other links coming soon)