For those of you not on the VIP Reader list, I have posted the full prologue to THE SECRET: Irin Chronicles Book Three here on the website. Again, I can’t give you a release date (because I’m still writing the book!) but I am fairly sure it will release early next year.
I’m not going to lie, it’s a lot easier to work on a fun new Elemental novella for Christmas (What? I didn’t tell you about my secret project with Grace Draven? Surprise!) or keep writing on Shadows and Gold with Ben and Tenzin. Ava and Malachi are hard to write. The mythology of the Irin series is complex. So I really do appreciate your patience while I take my time writing the best book I can to conclude Ava and Malachi’s story.
After that? I do see more books in the Irin Chronicles. Though like the Elemental Mysteries, Ava and Malachi’s story arc will be concluded at the end of The Secret. But there will still be many stories to tell in that world. So Irin fans, take heart!
And to tide you over, have a peek at what Jaron is up to:
He watched from across the crowded street. Jaron had taken the face of an old man, holding a newspaper and watching the humans pass in front of him as they strolled the ocean promenade with family and friends. The winter wind gusted on the Ligurian coast, but it did not bother the angel, only flapped the threadbare overcoat that covered his narrow shoulders.
Another old man came to sit beside him, holding a bag of warm chestnuts.
“Does she know yet?”
“She’s intelligent. She’ll find the answers soon enough. And the scribe is keener than I expected.”
Barak lifted the steaming bag of chestnuts to his nose and inhaled, but did not reach for one. “Mikhael’s offspring are often underestimated,” he said. “Seen more for their physical prowess than their strategy. This is a mistake.”
Jaron nodded. “Mikhael is a great strategist. His prowess rivals Yun’s.”
“Only when Yun is not working with you. Is her father still hidden?”
“As much as I can make him. In some ways, his public life has made it easier. He doesn’t often remove himself to places where he could be vulnerable.”
“True.” Barak tugged on the grey beard that covered his face. “I prefer the human eras that favor facial hair.”
Jaron lifted an eyebrow at his friend. “Do you? I detest them.”
“You detest every human era anymore.”
“Why do you think I’m doing all this?”
The corner of the old man’s mouth lifted behind his beard. “Why, indeed?”