SNEAK PEEK of “Don’t Date the Haunted” SEQUEL
Now that “Don’t Date the Haunted” is officially released, I can share a sneak peek to the up-coming sequel! (insert “Heather squeal” here) Now, if you don’t know what I mean by a “Heather squeal,” go read my first book! It’s available in paperback and eBook on Amazon.
If you have read “Don’t Date the Haunted,” then THANK YOU! I’d super appreciate your review on Amazon and/or Goodreads! It could be as simple as “Book was good. Interesting world. Fun characters. Five stars.” Any five star rating would seriously make my day, and I will respond to it.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
As much as I wanted to include the first chapter of the sequel to the end of “Don’t Date the Haunted,” it’s still in the developmental editing stage. But since you were awesome enough to read (and review?) my first book, I wanted to thank you by sharing the brewing concepts of Book 2: coming late Spring of 2021.
Here’s an exclusive mock-up for the cover!
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Chapter One
“Once Upon a Time” may be a misconception as history often repeats itself.
– Thesis of Adventures
THEO
Once upon a time should have been perfect for a proposal. Despite all my careful planning, the safe lightness of our blue-green auras, and the love I felt for Pansy, the impending chaos of my homeland fought for focus.
I scolded myself for worrying about the future, and tried to appreciate the present. Miss Pansy Finster, from Horror, rested at my side as we lay on a red-checkered blanket beside a field of flowers: pansies. The calm flow of Heartbeat River serenaded us from behind as the sun sank behind clouds on the horizon, promising an hour before a typically magnificent Romance sunset. Two sets of Heartford University’s red cap and gowns lay folded atop certificates for Pansy’s Bachelors of Science and my Masters in Political Science.
Nineteen months had passed since the horrific masquerade. I still remembered the fear of drowning from the poltergeist of Pansy’s ex-fiancé, though blanked when the supernaturals revived my life. I just remembered our auras turning black as my ability forewarned our deaths.
As we lay beside an emptied picnic basket, our auras were light and safe. The meaning of my auras’ lengths was still unknown, though the shortness of Pansy’s allowed me to analyze her angular features beyond the blurring glow.
I combed my fingers through her raven black hair that now reached her shoulders. Her Horror skin was as dark and soft as clay. Her eyes were the shape and color of cocoa beans. She wore a simple yellow dress that matched her wardrobe of “comfortable and easy to run in.”
Yes, the moment would have been perfect if my morning had not been ruined by an unexpected delivery of death.
Pansy breathed in deeply and shifted closer. “Theo… what’s on your mind?”
“Hmm?” I blinked out of my dazed thoughts. Subconsciously, I had stopped stroking her hair to fiddle with the ring on my right hand. I clenched my fist to stop. “Just how plans never go according to plan.”
With her eyes closed, she smirked. “Always have a back up plan,” she quoted from her brother’s book about surviving Horror. When I remained silent, her brown eyes blinked open, and she prodded, “What plans went wrong?”
Just the most important step of our courtship. With a deep breath, I willed myself to start from the beginning. “I received news from Margen.”
“News?” she asked. “Did they say more about the Eimad lords immigrating to Vluz for extra jobs?”
“No,” I slurred, doubting the truthfulness of that recent message. It conflicted with the world news my professor announced last week that Margen showed the beginning stages of a revolution. Had my weekly updates from the lords been fabricated? If so, why, and what were they hiding?
Even more disturbing was the evidence that now burdened my finger. I rested my right hand over Pansy’s and her eyes landed on the hulking piece of metal and stone on my middle finger. The ring was massive, made of gold and fortudo gems. It was crafted from King Sayer’s mines, stronger than dragon scales and more reflective than mirrors. I had not seen its likeness for over six years, yet there was no mistaking the gray-blue tones.
“What’s that?” Pansy asked.
“This was my brother’s,” I explained. “Marquis Greggory Fromm, the Wind Master, of Margen. I received it this morning.”
“Your brother sent it to you?” Pansy bit her lip, unsure what to say. She settled with, “It’s huge.”
I chuckled, “Yes, I was never meant to wear it.” Her eyebrows raised, prodding for an explanation. “See,” I said, “this ring signified Greggory as the eldest and heir to my father’s duchy. It can only be removed by the wearer or magically transferred to the next heir upon death.”
Pansy sat up and frowned. “So, that means—?”
“For this ring to appear on my finger, either my elder brother visited Romance, snuck into my apartment, then deliberately removed the ring from his hand to put it on mine, or,” I paused to swallow, “he is dead.”
She gasped, “Supernaturals! I’m so sorry, Theo. You were close, weren’t you?”
“Not as close as you and Oz. While you and I both idolize our older brothers, yours actually responded in kind. Greggory is…” I paused and struggled to think of my brother in the past tense. He was… everything I failed to be. “Greggory was a champion among swordsmen and master with his ability. He was the oldest and heir to the duchy with the power to change the very winds. He also had a stubborn attitude. We disagreed on multiple accounts regarding treatment of the lower classes and cursed beings. I figured the only way to gain influence and to support the people was through political knowledge.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly to rein my emotions. “However, I am now Marquis of Margen. His duties have fallen to me, and I must return to Fantasy.”
Greggory was dead. I was marquis. Curses! As the second eldest, I elected to study poli-sci to serve as Greggory’s assistant and advisor, not to be the man himself. Margen titled me “The Trusted” because they thought my ability was useless, and I feared to strike my opponents even in the friendliest of combat. How could I lead a duchy of magical warriors?
Regardless of the lightness of my aura, my fingers trembled. Two hands of grief—denial and fear—gripped me by the throat.
Pansy’s brown eyes met my blue-green with inner turmoil and worry. “Two questions then: when do you go, and how soon will you be back?”
I placed a hand on her cheek and said the condemning words, “I must leave as soon as I am capable. My Masters thesis on Adventures will be postponed. Concerning my return… I may not.”
She leaned away from my touch. “So, you’re leaving? It’s that simple?”
No, it was hardly simple. The mere thought of saying goodbye to Pansy wrenched my core. Yet the thought of abandoning Margen to collapse—my kingdom and inheritance—likewise tore me apart. If I could protect Margen from my younger brothers, if only a small piece of it, I had to try. Margen was the home of my heart, and Pansy was the keeper of it. How could I decide between the two?
I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, “I dare not ask you to join me. I will protect Margen from my younger brothers by taking the title of marquis and future duke… or I may die in my attempt.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Sorry?” My eyes snapped open. Pansy set her jaw.
“Let me go with you,” she said. “I can’t stand aside and watch if you’re in trouble. Let’s see, how did you put it when you asked me to go to the ball with you? Oh! Will you let me be your side-kick?” She grinned.
My heart groaned. Was this how she felt when I asked her to go to the masquerade, and she begged me to understand how perilous it was? “This is not the average Fairy Adventure. I know not what awaits me in Margen. This Adventure may be dangerous.”
Regardless of the worry in my eyes, she laughed. “Compared to Hauntings? Seriously, Theo, no matter what we’re up against, I’ve probably been through worse.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again, knowing she was likely right.
“Alright. You may accompany me under one condition,” I said, bolstering my courage for the audacity of the words about to leave my lips.
“Sure, what is it?” she asked.
“Marry me.”
