While I haven’t yet finished the first draft of book 3, Sins of the Righteous, I promise that I am working on it!
In fact, it’s going rather well these days (unlike, I admit, the way it went over the summer…sigh…). As evidence tends to speak for itself, however, I thought I’d share an excerpt with you today — taken from a scene between Alex and her sister, Jennifer. Enjoy! 🙂
From Sins of the Righteous (subject to change, and all rights reserved) (Warning: contains spoilers if you haven’t read book 2 yet!):
“Are you clearing the table or hiding?” her sister’s voice intruded. Alex opened her eyes to Jen’s reflection beside her own in the window, the smile on her sister’s lips at odds with the furrow between her brows.
“Long day,” Alex said. “Sorry.”
“Long many days.”
While Jen’s words were neutral enough, her voice held an underlying accusation. A guilty part of Alex wondered again when her family might leave. She forced a smile. “I know I should have called, but things are a little chaotic at the moment.”
“Which I might know if you’d bothered returning any of my two dozen voice messages.” Jen scraped the remains of dinner from a plate into the counter compost bin, rinsed it, and placed it in the dishwasher.
Alex folded her arms and settled back against the counter, waiting for the lecture. Jen wouldn’t rest until she’d had her say.
“I’m worried about you, Alex.” Another plate went into the dishwasher, this one with a little more force. “Ever since everything before — the killer, Nina, the fire — you just haven’t been the same. I’d hoped you’d make progress with Dr. Bell’s help, but — “
“Bell can’t change what’s real.”
“It’s not about changing what’s real, it’s about coping with it. And you didn’t give him a chance.”
“What chance? If I’d told him half of what’s happened, he’d have had me in a straitjacket,” Alex retorted. “Shrinks don’t care about real, they care about normal — and in case you haven’t noticed, nothing about my life qualifies as that anymore. Neither does yours, but you don’t want to see it.”
Jen stared at her, fine lines around her lips marking her tension. “Well. Do feel free to get your feelings off your chest, Alexandra. Don’t hold back on my account.”
Alex put a hand to her temple, where a wrecking crew threatened to take up residence. “This is why I don’t return your calls, Jen,” she said. “Because whatever you might tell yourself, you’d rather not know what’s going on in my life. You can’t handle it.”
Jen’s chin lifted and stubborn denial darkened the doeskin-brown eyes. Alex cut off the argument forming on her sister’s lips.
“Damn it, Jen, when will you get it? Like it or not, angels exist. A Fallen Angel tried to kill me because I — we — descend from the Nephilim. The angel sent to stop him is the soulmate I can never have — who murdered his own brother to save me. I’m sleeping with the son of Lucifer and the One, who gave up everything he should have been to be with me.” She paused to swallow against the tightness building in her chest. And to shore up her defenses against the tears shining in Jen’s eyes. Voice harsh, she continued, “Heaven and Hell are at war because of me, Jennifer. Our world is coming apart at its seams because of me. This is what I live with. This is my reality. And you’re right, I’m not coping with it. I’m trying to fucking survive it.”
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