3 days to go until my debut launch! (TLP excerpt in this post)

3 days until The Lavender Phantom is out in the world. Things are getting real now and I’m both super stressed and super excited. But that’s not what I want to share with you today.

As promised on Instagram yesterday, I’m here to drop an excerpt from one of the unique TLP points of view, that of the actual Lavender Phantom. The story is told mostly from Sophie’s POV but there are little details peppered here and there so the reader can get a glimpse of what occurs behind-the-scenes in Club Lavender. Here’s one of those below, spoiler-free and full of mystery for your enjoyment!

P.S. Click the cover image to pre-order TLP, it’s on a special, 25% reduced price for this and next week only.

P.P.S. Tomorrow I’m sharing a sneak peak at TLP’s mini Art Book, which will be a present for my advanced readers and later available exclusively to my newsletter subscribers. Come join me on Facebook.

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He knows he is about to be beaten up again. There is nothing subtle about the two men holding him down on his knees.
A woman paces in front of him, tapping away on her phone.
“We had a deal,” she says.
“You can’t blame me for this,” he replies.
“I let him get tutoring and have a normal life in exchange for your freedom.” She stops and looks him in the eyes.
“I haven’t gone anywhere. I was here all the time.” That part is true, but he knows it’s a weak argument. In this world, no one really works alone. Even with his limited team, he still has support.
“Oh please. Do you think he would have decided to run away by himself? He knows if he tries and fails, you will be hurt. You must have convinced him somehow that you’ll join him in his escape.” The woman is waving a finger at him, reminding him of years ago when they would fight and he, blinded by love, would apologize for things that weren’t his fault and try to win her approval with gifts.
“He’s twelve. It’s the start of his rebellious years. You can’t expect he will always obey you,” he says. So Lu-Na have failed. They were supposed to get his boy to run while the bodyguards were distracted, but clearly something has gone wrong. Maybe Mathias had been late; maybe Tanya had failed at keeping the guards’ attention on herself.
“Yeah, yeah, puberty. Whatever. After we’re done with you tonight, he won’t rebel for a while.”
He grunts when he is dragged back and strapped to a chair. A towel is placed on each of his arms. He is scared and sick of being in pain, but he won’t show it. A metal bat trails on the floor, making that distinct, soul-destroying sound.
“Film it and show it to the boy,” the woman says and leaves. She was never able to stomach violence in front of her. Her cruelty lies elsewhere.
The first blow connects with his forearm, and he stifles a scream.
You can’t blame a father for trying to keep his son safe.