Patience is a virtue…

I absolutely hate to post this, but book 3 of the Magnolia Kelch series is under more delays.  Please know that I am as frustrated as you are – the conclusion to Magnolia’s story is just itching to be told – but some things are simply out of my control.  I will keep you posted as soon as I know anything on the official pub date.

In the meantime, and as a hopeful appeasement gift, I will begin posting snippets and shorts of Magnolia and friends to give you some peeks into what the Network and those crazy Kelch boys have been up to in days of late.  The first short will be posted next week and the link with be available on my Facebook and Twitter pages.

Thank you for your patience and know that you are definitely in my thoughts as we push through Magnolia’s story.  🙂

Delayed update … on a delay

My apologies for the lack of news!

Yes, Magnolia’s book 3 has been delayed.  It was planned to be out in August/September and that obviously didn’t happen.  So when will it be out?

I’m not 100% sure.

Due to editor changes and publisher changes it looks like Spring.  I’m sorry I haven’t kept you posted and will really try to do better.

Just know that Magnolia and Theo are as anxious to be seen again as you are to see them. 🙂

#TBT – Magnolia’s very first draft

Taking a brief break from finishing up the third book in the Magnolia Kelch series (no, I still don’t have an official release date other than Fall 2014 – sorry!) I thought a little Throwback Thursday fun was in order.

Below is the very, very first draft of NO PEACE FOR THE DAMNED’s prologue. And when I say very, very first draft, I’m talking spelling errors and over description – all the messy glory that was the first thing I had ever attempted to write.

So be kind, and enjoy. 🙂

…

The room was vast. Vast enough that if someone spoke too loudly, they might unconsciously wait for the beginnings of an echo. The opulently high ceilings were just this side of cavernous and the thick, dark curtained walls were embedded with a swirling design that hinted at movement underneath. Too vast for a bedroom. Or so most would think.
Dusk light snuck in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the southern facing wall, leaving a cruel checker board pattern across the adjacent eastern wall. The room was cold as if the light and warmth it brought were both too scared to enter the room.
Magnus’ face was partially hidden in the lines of the checker board but his wide eyes were clear to his wife as he gazed down on the angelic newborn child.
Unexpected emotions filled his soul.
He had once heard fairy tales of fathers who beamed in wonderment at the first sight of their new child, an overwhelming sense of purpose or protectiveness, or even love, washing over them.
Magnus had never been one to tolerate such benign emotions.
Images of his other children swam through his mind. He recalled looking down on each of them for the first time, recognizing his regal brow or his strong jawline in those infant faces. He had beheld each of them not with love or pride, but with a sense of accomplishment. His line would continue. Another great success achieved.
But peering down at the glowing babe in his arms, still wet from the journey into the world, his breath caught suddenly in his throat. His stomach knotted in an unfamiliar sensation, tightening to the point of nausea. It was something he hadn’t felt since the decades before he and his brothers had created their monsterous empire. He felt fear.
The child’s beauty was beyond breath taking, beyond description. On one level, that had of course been expected. All of Magnus’ children were exceptionally, naturally beautiful. His sons, sculpted movie star handsome and his daughter had been known to cause runway models to turn away in self conscious shame.
This child was more. It was like this child was beauty itself.
But it was the power and not the beauty, the overwhelming vibrating power that radiated off the newborn that churned Magnus’ insides. The supernatural energy within the baby was so fiercely pure it actually poured out from its soul, causing the perfect infant’s skin to literally glow. It was like the sun shone only on this child.
It was just as his brother Maxwell had always warned. If Magnus sought to continue their potent line, a child could be created whose power would surpass them all. Power to threaten everything.
Magnus’ swallow burned against the lump in his throat.
The energy coming off this baby … the possibilities were endless. The power, limitless.
With stoic hands, Magnus woodenly placed the child back in his wife’s eager arms. As he did, the baby’s eyes blinked open.
Deep blue irises encompassed the pupil, drowning out nearly all the white around the edges. Those eyes, they were as vibrant as they were sharp. Those eyes had no need to search the room, no desire to take in the brightness of the world. Instead they controlled their focus the moment their lids parted. Those eyes, blue as the darkest part of the sea, looked directly into Magnus’ face.
He froze, held immobile by the overwhelming influence in those searing infant eyes.
There was no crying, no cooing. No expression at all. Just those eyes, holding in them a look, a wisdom that let Magnus know that this child knew exactly what he was, knew the fear inside him.
Magnus took a full minute to catch his breath. He was forced to call upon his own energy to tear himself away from the infant’s stare. That he had to pull from his supernatural powers to simply look away only burned the knowledge deeper within him.
With pained effort he shut his eyes tight then crossed the room on the doctor’s gasp. On the inhale he was at his wife’s bedside, by the exhale he was at the intricately carved door of his master suite, a framed shadow on the other side of the vast room. Magnus braced himself against the elaborate doorjamb for barely a moment before recovering himself. Only his wife would notice.
Head high in the stately posture he carried flawlessly, the back of his suit jacket was checker boarded as his face had been just moments ago. He paused long enough to address the enormous muscled guards keeping watch over the delivery.
“Kill them both.”
Magnus never turned back to his wife. He simply walked away, as he had walked away from so many other orders given, confident in its immediate execution. He walked away from his suite and took a deep, calming breath. Never again would he need to think on this moment.

I

Update on the next Mag book

I’ve received several requests for updates on the next Magnolia book.  Well, here you go: I am currently in the process of writing the third book with the hopes of sending it to edit by mid-Spring.  Depending on the edit process, that mean the release date will most likely be sometime in Fall/Winter 2014.

Sorry I don’t have more specifics but please know that as soon as I have a more, I’ll be sure to share.  I promise!

That being said, I want to give a little fore-warning of what’s to come.  As an author, I am in a very different place writing this third book than I was when I wrote the first two.  I’m looking to take some serious risks with both the content and the publishing of this next book.  *shivering with nerves and anticipation over here!*

Like, I said, I’ll be sure to keep you posted as things progress and in the meantime, thank you!  For the feedback, for reading Magnolia’s books, for the reviews, for everything – just, thank you!!

Many thanks to you, 2013!!

Blessings, love and gratitude to all of those who followed Magnolia’s adventure through 2013 with NO LOVE FOR THE WICKED and who discovered her journey this year in NO PEACE FOR THE DAMNED! 😀  Your feedback and support have been nothing short of incredible!!

I am pleased to be working on Magnolia’s third installment, currently looking to be released in September/October 2014. Snippets, teasers, playlists and edit news will be shouted from the rooftops whenever I have the chance.

Until then, enjoy the fresh start that a New Year brings. 2014 has the potential of being the most amazing year yet and I can’t wait to start the adventure!

The last of the prequels

Well, here it is: the last of the NO PEACE FOR THE DAMNED prequel chapters.  If you want to catch up on the previously posted prequel chapters, check them out here.

I hope you enjoy them and blessings to you as we bring in this wonderful season of Thanksgiving!!

Chapter 4

After I’d parked the car, I’d raced upstairs and started packing.  How pathetic was it that my entire wardrobe fit into the black backpack Thirteen had bought for me after the new year?  I looked up to the small camera hidden behind one of the drape rod finials.  I wasn’t upset about leaving this place – it had never been mine anyway.  Hell, I’d barely slept the whole time I was here.

I felt Thirteen appear in the doorway.  Crap.  I should have never shown him all that stuff.  But he’d been right – I wasn’t free of my family.  They were in every thought and feeling I had.  I turned to face him.  His enormous frame took up the entire doorway.  He hadn’t spoken at all during the drive back to the safe house.  Seeing him now, a strange anxiety crept into my throat.

“We need to talk, Magnolia.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Your family is different from other supernaturals, aren’t they?  The Russians your father mentioned – the fire-starters – most individuals with supernatural abilities are like that; one power, one supernatural ability.  But your family is different. ”

I shoved another shirt into my pack.  I so didn’t want to go where this conversation was headed.

“Where does your power come from, Magnolia?”

I shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

“Did your grandparents have powers like yours?  Your mother?”

I clenched my fists.  “Damn it, Thirteen, I don’t know!  My mother was a weak-minded moron, so no, I can’t imagine she ever had powers of her own.  And Grandmother was a power hungry bitch, but no, she didn’t have any supernatural abilities either.”

“You met your grandmother? Our records say that she died before you were born.”

“She died right after I was born.  And I saw her a lot in the rest of my family’s memories.”

“Your Grandfather then,” he said more to himself than to me.  “Your powers most likely came from your father’s father.  We have no record of him.”

“Join the club.”

“You never met him or saw him in your father’s or uncles’ memories?”

“No one ever met him.  I mean, obviously Grandmother did, but no one else ever knew anything about him.”

“Interesting.”

Whatever.  I went back to my bag.

It was a long moment before he spoke again.  “They punished you because they fear you,” he said quietly.

I froze mid-pack.  “They tortured me because they hate me.”

“There is a fine line between fear and hatred, Magnolia.  Especially for powerful men.”

I shoved another shirt into my bag. “I know what fear is, Thirteen.  It’s debilitating and consuming until it becomes a part of who you are.”

“Is that how you felt?”

“It’s how I feel now.”

He stepped into the room.  My breath turned shaky.  Damn it! Why did I react to his concern like this?

“Why you?” he asked.  “From what you showed me, your brothers were in attendance when you were being dealt severe violence at the hands of your father.  And yet neither brother ever seemed concerned about his own safety.”

I jerked the zipper closed on my bag and went to the dresser to gather my toiletries.  “They never touched Malcolm or Markus.  I mean, they were slapped around some when they screwed up or something, but they can’t heal like I can.  Malcolm breaks an arm and it stays broken for weeks.  It doesn’t do much for honing Uncle Max’s torture skills – I mean, interrogation skills – when your test dummy is always broken.  Not to mention, a punching bag that shatters every time you hit it isn’t exactly prime stress-release material.”

I fumbled through my soaps and lotions.  “But they do hate me.  Real hatred, like you or any other normal person couldn’t possibly understand.”

“But why?  You all have extraordinary powers.”

“No one has powers like mine.  I can’t be killed.  No matter what they did to me, no matter how hard they tried, I always lived.”

Thirteen inclined his head.  “You were their first failure.”

I turned to face him.  “I am their only failure.”

This brought out a serious frown over his wide face.  “The Network has thwarted a great deal of the terrorist-like activity that your father and the senator have attempted.  In fact, just last summer, our Liberian operatives confiscated a massive shipment of unauthorized weapons Senator Kelch was secretly transporting to guerilla forces trying to gain a footing.  It was a major blow to the Senator’s weapons’ network.”

Poor Thirteen.  I almost didn’t want to tell him the truth.

“I remember that confiscated shipment.” It was one of the few occasions when Uncle Max actually took a turn on me – he’d brought out the heirloom knives if I remembered correctly.  “And Uncle Max was totally put out … for about fifteen minutes.  But it was hardly a failure, Thirteen.  He hopped a plane that night, flew to Africa and got all the weapons back.  I remember because he brought back some kind of wine that Uncle Mallroy wanted for his goats when he returned the next day.”

Thirteen shook his head hard even as he pulled out his cell phone.  “That’s impossible.  I would have known if the shipment had been removed from its secured location.”

“Not if your operatives still think the weapons are there.”  When he paused, I tapped my forehead.  “Memories aren’t the only thing I can telepathically project into your mind.  If Uncle Max wanted the people guarding the weapons to think they were still there, then that’s what they think.”

For a long moment he just stood there.  I took my lotions and other stuff over to my bag and shoved them in the front pocket.  There – all packed.  Now what?

Thirteen snapped his phone shut and stood straighter, getting all serious.  “I have a proposition for you.”

“Aren’t you going to check the weapons?  See if I’m telling the truth?”

“You have no reason to lie to me, and I will check the shipment in a few moments.  But first, I’d like you to consider working for me.”

Okay, it was my turn to frown now.  “Like what? Answer your phone and shit? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“I’d like you to be an informant for the Network.  Specifically, I’d like you to educate a specially designed task force on the abilities and motivations of your father and uncles.  And your siblings, as well, if you believe them to be a potential threat.”

My jaw hit the ground.  Power swelled inside me.  “I can’t.”

“Why not?  You’ve shown me your powers.”

Not all of them, but whatever.  “That’s different.  You already knew who I was, you were helping me.”

“Most of the Network knows who your family is, Magnolia.”  His eyes turned sad.  “Do you want to protect them?  I suppose can understand that – abusive or not, they are all the family you’ve ever known.”

“No, I don’t want to protect them.” Was he crazy?  “They can protect themselves.  But I can’t talk about their powers – like give you details and stuff.  I just can’t.”

I shifted my feet, my body aching in remembered punishments from the times I’d slipped up as a child.  When I asked my brothers’ tutor why she didn’t speak with her thoughts the way Father and my uncles did, or when I questioned the stable hands why it took five of them to lift the farm equipment that Uncle Mallroy could lift on his own.  I been punished enough to learn that lesson well – people could speculate all they wanted, but we didn’t talk about Father’s and my uncles’ powers.  Ever.

He took a step closer, just to the opposite side of the bed, my packed duffle bag between us.  “There’s more to what I’m asking than you might think, Magnolia.  You would be an unparalleled source of information – there’s no denying that.  And your existence would still be protected.  Only a select group of agents would ever know who you are.”

Yeah, right.  “Sure, and as soon as one of those agents was captured by family guards, Uncle Max would strip their mind and Father would know I was alive.  Thanks, but no thanks.”  Even as I said the words, though, my resolve wavered.

“You need this,” he said, his voice getting stronger.  “You’ve already taken the first step – you escaped.  You’ve taken time to adjust to your freedom, but there is still so much fear inside you.  Working with me will be another step in helping you rid yourself of that fear.  You need this, Magnolia.”

Okay, let’s just think about this a moment.  On one hand, he was right – I had escaped, but I wasn’t really free.  Father’s nurture fear was still deep inside me, affecting every thought or move I made.  On the other hand, the idea of working against Father and Uncle Max made me sick to my stomach.

I closed my eyes and let my power swell inside me.  I had choices now.  Control over my powers, control over my decisions, and in the case of talking to Thirteen’s Network, control over how much information I gave.  I looked back across the bed to Thirteen.  So patient, so accepting.  Even now, after violating his mind with those horrible images, he was still giving me a choice rather than forcing information from me.  It made me want to cry.  Damn it.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

Gearing up for Halloween

Halloween is just around the corner and my publisher is gearing up for the spooky holiday by offering some scary-cool deals on Magnolia’s books!

(Gotta love cheesy promotional tag-lines.)  Anyway, here you go:

10/3-11/1 – No Peace for the Damned is featured in a UK Horror/Thriller event. Customers will be able to purchase No Peace for the Damned and other select ASINs for £1 each.

10/4-11/4 – No Peace for the Damned is also included in a national AmazonLocal deal. The deal will allow AmazonLocal mobile customers to secure a voucher that is valid for buying up to 50 selected Kindle books for $0.99 each. If you are an Amazon Local customer, check out the offer here.

10/26 – No Peace for the Damned will be also be included in an exclusive Amazon Local daily promotion so look for the email on this special deal.

10/1-10/31 – Finally, check out No Love for the Wicked which is currently on sale for Kindles at $1.99.

Thank you so much for buying, reading, reviewing, and mentioning these books! In addition to these promotions, know that you are getting extra air-hugs from me all month long! XOXO

 

 

NO PEACE FOR THE DAMNED – Something extra :)

As a ‘Welcome’ to my new followers here and everywhere else, and as a “Thank you” to all who have taken the time to review my books, here is another deleted chapter from NO PEACE FOR THE DAMNED.

A little background, this is the third of four added chapters that gave a bit more background to how Magnolia came to rely so much on Thirteen and his opinions of her.  During the final edit, it was decided that these chapters weren’t necessary as we wanted to get to the heart of the story a bit faster.  If you missed the first two deleted chapters, you can check them out here.

In this chapter, Magnolia is finally learning how to drive.  It doesn’t quite go as smoothly as everyone had hoped. 😉

Chapter 3

The next weekend I sat in the driver’s seat of Thirteen’s car, my hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.  I tried to calm down but couldn’t.

“What just happened, Magnolia?”

My heart pounded so loudly in my ears I barely heard him.  “He recognized me, Thirteen.  That man back there.  He recognized me.”

Thirteen turned in his seat to look back at the crosswalk.  I’d pulled to the curb and from the rearview mirror I could see the guy staggering, holding his head while his friends helped him back to the sidewalk.  He wiped at his face.  Blood streamed from his nose, I could see it dripping onto his suit jacket from here.  Damn it! 

“What did you do to him?” Thirteen’s voice was low.  His trying-not-to-pass-judgment-but-still-disapproving voice.

“That man, Jeremy Jefferson, he came to the estate for Father’s holiday party last year.  It was only a few weeks before I escaped.  When he saw me through the windshield just now, he recognized me.”

“What did you do to him, Magnolia?”

I adjusted my grip, shifted in my seat.  “Nothing, okay?  I just erased my image from his mind.  That’s all.”

“Then why did he collapse.  Why is he still bleeding from his sinuses?”

I glanced in the rearview mirror again.  His friends had moved him to a nearby bench.  One was on his cell phone, calling their doctor friend before taking Jeremy to the ER.

“So, maybe I was a little too … forceful.  I didn’t mean to.  He surprised me.”  Thirteen cocked a brow.  My hackles rose.  “I won’t have people recognizing me, Thirteen.  It was my choice to stay around here – I get that – but Father and my family think I’m dead.  I’ll kill before I let anyone tell them differently.”

I kept my eyes on Jeremy as he tilted his head back to try and stop the nosebleed.  Thirteen’s gaze was a heavy weight on the side of my face. “Then you aren’t really free at all, are you?”

I spun in my seat and glared at him.  “Of course I’m free.  I escaped.  I’m here aren’t I?”

“But you are still holding on to the notion of fleeing.  You are still hiding.”

“You’re the one hiding me!”

“Not the way I was.  Banks comes over regularly now; I’ve returned the house cameras to their functioning purpose, completed paperwork on your stay at the safe house.  Granted, I’ve used your alias, but you’re like anyone else under Network protection now.”

The radio popped as a lash of power slipped past my control.  Thirteen barely flinched.

“What do you want me to do?” I shouted.  “Just announce to the world who I am?  You don’t know anything!  You think because you have these files and research on my family, that you have a clue who we really are.  You know nothing!”

“Then explain it to me, Magnolia.”

“You don’t want to know.”

“It’s about you.  Of course, I want to know.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.  “Okay, fine. You really want to know?  Fine, I’ll show you.  Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

His brows scrunched together.  “What do you mean you’ll show –“

I drilled the memories into his mind without warning.  In a dual image, I saw Thirteen’s face contort with shock and confusion at the same time I saw a younger version of my father enter his study at the estate.

“What is your problem?” Father hissed while the guards stood over me. Father wore one of his many custom business suits, while the three burly men were dressed in the black camo that all estate guards wore.  Their hands and faces were splattered with fresh blood.

The biggest one stood at attention.  “I’m sorry, sir, but all of our efforts have been unsuccessful.”

            Father waved his hand.  The giant guard flew across the room, slamming hard into the study wall before falling unconscious to the Aubusson covered floor.  “I’ll do it myself,” Father snarled.

            His eyes looked down on me with disgust.  As I watched, his face changed.  There was no shifting of features or popping of bones, but his expression went cold, dark – like he had just pulled on a mask that took his regal cheekbones and icy blue eyes and covered his handsomeness with something terrifying.  I felt myself cower instinctively.  Then his hands were around my throat.  His fingers and thumbs overlapped because my infant neck was so tiny.  His teeth ground together as his grip tightened.  The pain was shocking.  The burn of my lungs, excruciating.  My eyes ached as dark red filled my vision.  Unconsciousness took me as Father’s fingers cut through the skin at my neck.

            His hands were still on me when I opened my eyes again, but the terrifying mask was gone.  His eyes grew so wide I could see the white all the way around his expanding pupils. 

“Is there a problem?”  Uncle Max’s drawl came from somewhere nearby.  Father’s face shut down.  His posture took on that arrogant stance that would later become his trademark in the business world.

“No problem, Maxwell,” he said smoothly.  “Just a change in plans.”

I warned you this would happen.  Uncle Max’s voice was different this time.  Further away.

We’ll harness her, Father replied in an equally faraway tone.  Transfuse her blood into ours.  I’ll need to test her first, see what other abnormalities she might have, but her blood will only grow our strength.

And if her powers can’t be harnessed?

Father glared down at me again, that terrifying mask back in place.  No one can heal everything. He turned with a flourish and left me, staring at the ceiling, struggling to breath past the pain of resurrection.

Thirteen blinked, took a steadying breath.  I didn’t care.  I wasn’t done with this little show and tell.  I pushed more memories into him, knocking him back against the passenger door.

Straps, chains, blood, pain – again and again, always more pain.  Always Father’s terrifying face.  Over the years, too many failed attempts to end my life had changed the mask.  There was rage over the darkness now.  A hatred so pure, so evil, that no normal human being could contain it.  His powers fed off of it.

I slowed the flow of memories and brought to surface one where I was being whipped, blood dripping down my face into my hair as I hung upside down over a drain in one of the horse barns.  Through the pain I saw my two brothers, hiding in the shadows, watching.  Malcolm smirked at the sight of me.  Markus cowered.

“Mallroy is going to throw a fit about your messing one of his horse stalls again,” Uncle Max said.  I was a young child now, old enough to recognize the difference between their spoken voices and their telepathic ones.  The black suit he’d worn for the election celebration hung perfectly over his middle aged physique.  His thoughts were particularly smug – the minds of his constituents had so easily fallen prey to his mental manipulations.  He’d won by a landslide.  Now, he was in the mood for some entertainment.

Father stood back, eying me with a clinical detachment.  The barbed whip hung loosely in his hand.  He’d rolled up his shirt sleeves after the party but it hadn’t kept my blood and flesh from splattering all over him.  He ran the back of his wrist along his brow trailing a slash of red in its wake.

“Look at her,” Father said baring his teeth.  “So fucking defiant.  It’s like those blasted gypsies all over again.  Thinking they were powerful enough to muscle us out of the Russian weapons deal.  Fucking fire-starters.  And she’s even worse!  You know she doesn’t even cry out anymore at the whips?  Hardly even worth the time to come out here.”

Uncle Max stepped closer to me.  I flinched automatically.  He smiled. 

He grabbed my hair and held my head in place.  “You’ll have to be especially creative if you want to break her again.  After all, she isn’t like the other supernaturals we have to deal with on occasion.  She’s one of us.”  Only more so in some ways, aren’t you little Magnolia?  His thoughts whispered to himself.  What is it inside you that allows our blood to grow so much stronger? I stared into his eyes, not moving, not reacting at all.  His smile vanished as his eyes narrowed.

Heat pressed against my forehead – the familiar prelude to Uncle Max’s aggressive telepathy.   Instantly, I focused my thoughts. I could feel his powers as they scrubbed the inside of my mind – scraping at my thoughts like nails on a chalkboard.  I made sure he saw all the fear, all the pain.  Dear Lord, how much more pain could they entice?  When he finally pulled back, that small smile had returned. With a toss of my hair he pushed me back.  The room spun, the hooks through my heels that dangled me from the ceiling pulled against the tendons. I bit my tongue until I tasted blood just to keep from screaming.

“Try heating up the barbs before you use the whips,” Uncle Max suggested as he strolled away from me.  “She wants to know how much more pain you can actually entice.  Apparently, she hopes to challenge you.”

I closed my eyes.  Father roared.

The memory faded until the sound of Thirteen’s sobs were all that filled the car. He was white as a sheet.  Both hands covered his face – it would be a while before he’d be able to speak again.  I glanced in the rearview mirror.  Jeremy and his friends had moved on, probably to the nearest MedCheck to make sure he wasn’t hemorrhaging or something.

I ignored my shaking hands and started the car.  No point staying around here.  Something told me Thirteen wasn’t in the mood to finish our driving lesson.

As I pulled into the street, Uncle Max’s words echoed in my ears.  After all, she is one of us.  Thirteen had wanted to know about me and my family?  Well, there it was.  We were evil.  Power, hate, pain – it was in our blood.  And whether I’d participated in their violent criminal acts or not, I was one of them.  Even Uncle Max acknowledged that much.

Just a little gratitude

I just wanted to take a moment and say Thank You to everyone who has read No Peace for the Damned and No Love for the Wicked.  It boggles my morning every day when I reach that moment of realization (usually about halfway through my second cup of coffee) that not only have these small pieces of my mind’s world been put to print, but that there are people out there who have actually read the words – my words – that make up these characters and stories.  You have no idea what that means to me.

I’d also like to send a big, huge, mega THANK YOU to anyone who has ever taken the time to rate or review my books.  Good, bad, indifferent – taking those few moments to tell the world, “Hey,I read this” is truly the life breath of a writer.

So basically, you are all incredibly awesome people who have totally made a difference in my life.  Thank you.

❤

Back by popular demand – NO PEACE deleted chapters!

For those who missed the first of the NO PEACE FOR THE DAMNED prequel chapters, click here to get brought up to speed.  This next chapter picks up right where the first left off: Magnolia, wide-eyed and free, experiencing the world outside of her family’s estate for the first time.  But what happens when a Network agent other than Thirteen discovers her presence? Let’s find out, shall we? 🙂

***By the way, as you read this, please keep in mind that these chapters have only been partially edited. There is a fairly good chance that you may come across an inconsistency or content error.  If you don’t mind, just ignore those little things and move on.  Thanks! ****

Living on the estate, one day ran into the next.  The sun would rise and set, guests would come and go, but for me every day was the same.  Fear, hiding, pain, healing – a stagnant existence where moments stood out only because of the severity of my punishment or fear.

Now, though, time flew as I eagerly soaked in every new experience.  Grocery stores, banks, gas stations, restaurants – God, there was just so much.  Thirteen became my constant companion, walking me through the normal, everyday things I needed to know to exist in society.  I stayed in his mind constantly, waiting for that open kindness to slip and reveal the manipulative intentions underneath.

It never happened.

Instead, he kept my presence secret, even from the rest of his Network.  Since my family believed I was dead, it was his way of protecting me until I was ready to go out on my own.

The days stretched into weeks and before I realized it, two months had passed.  I plopped down on the sofa beside Thirteen.  He’d stopped by for his daily visit and was reviewing the game plan for one of his teams’ mission on his laptop.

“You need to teach me how to drive,” I said.

Thirteen stopped typing and angled the screen away from me.  Whatever.  If he wanted to pretend I didn’t know everything about the Network after being in his mind all this time, fine.  He could keep his little delusions.

“You think you’re ready for that?” he asked.

“Totally.  I’m doing great going out in public now.”

Okay, so maybe great was an overstatement.  But I hadn’t hurt anyone in weeks.  There were just too many people around here who worked for my father.  I’d always known Kelch, Inc. was enormous what with its pharmaceuticals and consumer products and weapons contracts, but who knew that a trip to the grocery store would mean running into a dozen people stressing about their jobs.  I heard a hateful thought and the name Kelch and I attacked.  So sue me.  At least I always remembered to erase the experience from my victim’s mind before we returned to the safe house.

“What about the telepathy?  Are you still feeling overwhelmed?”

I sipped at my Jim Beam.  The stuff was nasty compared to the stock of Four Flowers that Uncle Max always kept on hand, but it did the job.  “It’s better,” I lied thinking of all the voices that swam in my head whenever I went someplace crowded.  “I’m getting used to it.”

He pressed his lips together.  “Still, driving, going out alone, it’s dangerous.”

I looked at my drink.  Screw it.  “Okay, look.  Truth is I’ve been going out alone ever since you brought me here.  I mean, come on.  You didn’t really expect me to just sit here forever and wait around for you to show up and take me out?  Granted, I’ve been invisible a lot of the time – people falling into lust-comas whenever I walk through the door kind of gets old – but just the other day I walked to the mini-mart and got a bag of cookies and I was visible and everything.”  I lifted my chin.  “I’m not your prisoner, Thirteen.  I can do what I want.”  I had to keep reminding myself of that, though.

“Of course you can, Magnolia.”  His overly patient voice made me grind my teeth.  “And I agree, your acclimation to the world outside of your family’s estate has been impressive.  Most especially these last couple weeks.”  He studied me for a moment then sighed.  Yes!  I tried to temper my ear-to-ear grin as he said, “All right.  We can take the SUV out this afternoon.  Just let me finish…”

The front door flew open, slamming against the back wall with a bang.  A lumbering, train wreck of a man pounded his way into the foyer.  Nearly as big as Thirteen, the man’s barrel chest spread into his gut, sagging over his waistband.   Long reddish hair frazzled on top of his head.  He stood at an angle, his wide frame barely held upright by an out-of-date metal prosthetic leg.  And his face was scarred like he’d been mauled by some animal.  In fact, his one eye was covered by a shiny metal eye patch sewn directly into his face.  Was he trying to look like a cyborg?  Didn’t matter.  Only thing that mattered was that he was here. And he was pissed.

“Thirteen, you lying bastard!” the man bellowed.  “Who the hell do you think you are keeping someone….”  That was all he got out.

I moved faster than they could track.  One moment I sat on the couch beside Thirteen, the next I was across the room, slamming into the unwieldy man.  With one hand wrapped around his throat, I held him against the foyer wall, his feet dangling off the ground.

“Magnolia, don’t!” Thirteen’s voice stopped me.

I glanced over my shoulder.  “This a friend of yours?  I thought no one was supposed to come here.”

“Please,” Thirteen said slowly.  He stepped carefully around the sofa to stand in front of the open door.  “This is Banks.  He is my second in command at the Network.  I’ve never told him or anyone else about your staying here.  My guess is he figured out the house was being used and assumed correctly that I was keeping things from him.”

I turned back to the man I still held against the wall.  His one eye bulged from lack of oxygen.  I moved right up into to his face, our noses almost touching.  “If you think for a moment that being friends with Thirteen will keep you safe if you try anything against me, it will be a moment you regret.”  With a quick push, I peeked at his thoughts.  Wow, he was really on the verge of unconsciousness.  And he hadn’t figured out who I was yet.  Not very impressive for a second in command.  I released him and he fell to the floor with a thud.  Whatever.  I went back to my drink as Thirteen scanned the street outside and closed the front door.

Damn it! I couldn’t believe he’d surprised me like that.  I needed to sharpen up.  Fast.  Back at the estate, I’d always known the warning signs.  Father’s frustration meant I was about to play whipping post.  His excitement: time to be guinea pig for one of his experiments.  And if Father or Uncle Max had been pissed off about something – well, that just meant I needed to run, hide and pray for unconsciousness before the real pain kicked in.  Here, I didn’t know the tells.

Well, screw that.

The big man, Banks, was bent at the waist, coughing in gasps of air.  Thirteen knelt beside him, attentive-like.  Why his concern pissed me off, I had no idea.  I threw back the rest of my drink and waited.

When Banks finally lifted his head, he glared at me.  “Who is she, Thirteen?” he wheezed.  Thirteen steadied him.  I rolled my eyes.

“Are you alright?” Thirteen asked.

Banks snarled, “Answer the question, damn it!  Who is she?”

Thirteen looked my way.  My skin turned to shrink wrap.  This was the moment I’d been waiting for.  Thirteen had to choose – keep my confidence, or reveal my identity to the rest of his Network.  I hated how desperately I wanted him to choose me.

Magnolia – can you hear me?

His words were as clear as if he’d really spoken.  Thirteen wasn’t telepathic – he was just focusing his thoughts.

Yeah, I hear you.  I replied back into his mind.

His expression turned grim.  My stomach rolled.  I knew what he was going to say even before he thought it.  Damn it, I should have known all along.  No one ever chose me. Never.  It’s just, his illusion had been so perfect.  That whole kindness thing, in his thoughts, in his actions – he must have been sweating bullets to keep up the pretense so completely.  My humiliation grew dark as I felt power chill beneath my skin.

Leave.

I froze.  What?

Now, Magnolia.  Run. Disappear. If you want to contact me again, you’ll figure out how, but for now, go.  Before he realizes who you truly are.

My mind blanked out.  The rising power inside me slunk away.  He chose me.  Over his Network, his second-in-command, over everyone.  I searched his face, looking for the trick.  When all I saw was sincerity, I rifled through his mind, skimming deeper than ever before.  There were holes, thoughts and images he refused to explore, but nothing vengeful or selfish.  He truly wanted to protect me.

When I felt a trail of wetness on my cheek, I reached up automatically.  Tears?  But I wasn’t in any pain.  In fact, there was a warmth growing inside me that I’d never felt before.

Banks pulled away from Thirteen, stood to his full height as he looked back and forth between us.  Suddenly, the entire paradigm of my situation shifted.  Thirteen would keep his word.  It didn’t matter who my family was or what supernatural evil flowed through my veins. He would protect me because he really cared about me.  This moment wasn’t about the choice he had to make.  It was about the choice I had to make.

“This is your last chance, Thirteen,” Banks snarled, staring at me as he spoke.  “Either you tell me who you’ve been harboring against Network protocol or I call for back up.”

Thirteen rose to stand beside his second.  And kept rising.  As big as Banks was, Thirteen was still a full head taller.  When he looked down on the mangled man, it was very clear which of the two was used to receiving ultimatums, and which was used to giving them.

“It would be in your best interest to remember who the superior officer is here, Banks.” Thirteen’s deep voice was eerily low.

Banks pointed a hard finger my way.  “That usurps ranking and you know it!”

Thirteen’s chest puffed up.  He was about to overstep his own rules.  He hated doing it, but he would break any rule he needed to to keep his word to me.

“Tell him.”  My voice came out in a shaky squeak.  “Tell him, Thirteen.”  I reached down for my glass, my hand shaking so badly I sloshed the whiskey on my fingers.  After a long drink I lifted my chin.  “I’m free now.  No one here can hurt me.  Not you, or him, or any of your other Network agents.  You don’t need to compromise yourself to protect me.  I can take care of myself.”

And I could.  I mean, I had escaped, hadn’t I?   I’d been learning how to live out here in the real world.  Hell, pretty soon I’d even be able to drive.  So what if Thirteen’s Network knew about me.  It was like he said, I hadn’t done anything wrong.  Other than being born a Kelch.

As Thirteen finally nodded and began explaining my situation to Banks, his words became a buzz in my ears.

I never imagined there could be an emotional tie to someone where you stayed because you wanted to, not because they scared the crap of you.  Thirteen looked back at me, smiled, and I felt that warm thing inside me spread.  Wonder what else I’d find myself capable of now that I’d chosen to stay?