Good news, everyone! I officially sent the manuscript of THE SINGER off to my wonderful editor today. I’m not going to lie, writing and revising this book has been a bear. I think THE SINGER, more than any previous release, has a huge weight of expectation on it. And though I’d like to ignore that and say it doesn’t affect me, it does! First, it’s the second book in a series, which is always difficult. Second, I want to make this the best book it can be. I want it reflect the vision for the series that I had from the beginning. I want it to rock. So, I hope it does. Pre-reader feedback has been awesome, and now we’ll see how much better it can be with Anne’s help.
In celebration of this weight finally being off me (and on Anne) I’m going to release a teaser that I put up a while back over on the Elizabeth Hunter Forums. If you haven’t joined, there are some great discussions that happen and you get stuff like exclusive teasers and contests. It’s very fun! So here is the teaser, and I’ll be releasing another exclusive over on the forum next week.
Enjoy the teaser!
From THE SINGER: Irin Chronicles Book Two
The forest was midnight black, shrouded in a thick fog that curled and twisted around his ankles. The path he followed was not clear; wet branches slapped his face as he stumbled in the dark.
Where was she?
He could hear her in the distance. Her cries ripped through his chest. Every time she grew louder, he was forced to turn again, as the path diverted him. The dark maze wove through the forest, teasing him. Frustrating him.
He would not be defeated.
The dark mass rose before him, looming over his head as if trying to block out the stars. Damp branches laced with thorns twisted in on themselves, blocking him from going further. The maze urged him to turn again, but he stopped. Held his hand up.
Her voice was audible now.
“Please. Please come back.”
With a frustrated roar, he pounded on the thorns. Then he spun around, looking for a way out or around or through. It was a dead end. There was nowhere to turn but away from her again.
But his mate needed him. She called for him, and he’d left her alone too long.
He plunged his hands into the thick brush that separated him from her voice. He ignored the pain as he forced his way forward.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears. “I need you.”
He tore at the hedge, ripping away the thorns and branches that tore his skin, ignoring the pain in his chest, ignoring everything except her voice. Finally, his bloody hand reached through and felt the cool air on the other side.
Pale moonlight streamed through the fog, as he forced his bleeding body the rest of the way through the brush. There, on the far side of the clearing, he saw her.
Broken and bent with grief, she curled into herself, her arms wrapped around her legs. She wore a pale robe, streaked with mud, that pooled around her feet. She rocked back and forth as he approached. He approached cautiously, kneeling in front of her where she sat. Then he reached out a tentative hand and pushed a damp curl from her face.
She looked up.
“You left me.”
“I found you.”
“Why did it take so long?”
“I was lost.”
Her gold eyes didn’t glow as they should have. They were dull with sorrow. Exhausted with weeping. He could see the tear tracks glittering on her cheeks.
“I found you, reshon.”
She held out her arms like a child asking for comfort. He reached out and picked her up, lifting her from the cold ground and cradling her against his chest. He felt her fingers tracing over his scratched skin.
“What happened to you?”
“I told you. I was lost, but I came back.”
“You found me.”
“And you’re not leaving again?”
“No. I promise.”
“I’m so tired.” She lay her head on his shoulder, and he felt his heart swell with purpose.
“Then rest while I hold you. I promise, I won’t let go.”