Writing Irin is hard. There’s just no way around it. I love it. I deeply love this world. But it’s a difficult one. It’s was difficult to develop this mythology. It was difficult to go dark places with these characters. So there’s a part of me that loves writing this book, and there’s a part of me that dreads it. I hope you guys understand. I’m hoping I’ll be in a better place writing The Secret than I was with The Singer, which was very difficult to write because the characters were going through so much.
Anyway, here’s the teaser. I hope you guys enjoy. And here’s a link to the other one (which is a bit more lighthearted) that I put over on the FB page.
Some mornings Ava woke feeling as if she could drift away. She was smoke on those mornings. The thin fog that hung over the ocean in the moonlight. They clung to each other in sleep, no matter what had happened during the day or how distant they had felt.
Sometimes, she woke and he was watching her, frowning as if he was trying to remember.
The best mornings she woke and Malachi was the man he had been, light in his eyes and a teasing smile at the corner of his mouth. They made love on those mornings with playful passion. The joy of new lovers in familiar skin as they hid away in his grandparents’ house on the edge of the sea.
On those mornings, they didn’t speak of the other times he woke her. The hours when she cried in her sleep. Stifling screams. Weeping with remembered loss. In the bleak darkness of those nights they held each other desperately.
“I’m here,” he’d whisper. “Ava, I’m here.”
Once, she’d bitten his shoulder hard enough to break skin, and the taste of his blood lingered in her mouth for days.
He said it over and over again.
And in the mornings, she believed him.
But the nights always came. The dark angel walked with Ava in her dreams, and she woke crying, seeing his face dissolve into gold dust that rose in the damp air of the cistern where he had died.