Phoenix, shifters and…bigfoot?

Not into that TeaserIT’S MY BOOK BIRTHDAY! YAY!

From the Embers is officially live on ebook retailers TODAY! I can’t begin to tell you how much I love this story. Ember and Atticus are just amazing. And who doesn’t love a badass Phoenix that goes supernova?

To celebrate, I am hoping around between 3 parties today so pick one and come hang out.

9-5pm est I’ll be in my Amy Miles Addicts group. Join here:Amy Miles Addicts Fan Club

2-10pm est Join the Havenwood Falls Fight Night. Join here: Havenwood Falls Book Club

7-9pm est I’ll be partying it up at the Red Coat PR Reader Community. Join:Red Coat PR Reader Community

Can’t come play but would like to grab your copy? Snag yours today:

 

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FIRST CHAPTER SAMPLE

Phoenix

 

Smart people knew to duck when the world took a swing at them. I guess I hadn’t learned that lesson yet. Taking a hit was something I knew how to do. Knowing when to stop before my luck ran out—well, that was another story.

A cheer rose from the crowd. My hair blocked the view of the approaching wall, but I sure felt it. With a groan, I collapsed into the gutter. The murky water tasted of rotting trash, and I didn’t want to think of what else. I spit to the side before I rolled to my back.

That one hurt.

“You sure you’re up for another round, Ember?” Two glowing orb-like eyes stared down at me. They looked far too small compared to the eggplant-sized nose they flanked. “You’re lookin’ a bit rough after Fluffy took that last chunk out of you.”

The troll wasn’t wrong.

A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I caught it with my fingertip. It shimmered there like a summer sunset against the night. The instant I touched it to the gouge in my right side, sweet relief rushed in. Having healing powers sure came in handy.

“Whoever named that seven-foot-tall bastard of a skinwalker Fluffy deserves to have their head kicked in,” I said.

I’d been fighting against scum like him for six years, but he was my first skinwalker. The stories were few and far between. Some relayed tales of creatures that could assume the skin of a man instead of a beast. Staring up at Fluffy’s three heads, I wished I’d taken on one of them instead.

Fuzzbert laughed. “That’s my girl.”

The hand that yanked me to my feet was the size of a large serving platter, dotted with tufts of hair. It was a tight squeeze to escape around his belly. The friction of his wet poncho trapped me. I wiggled free and leaned against the wall to catch my breath.

There were dozens of wounds in need of healing, but they would have to wait. Fluffy paced, watching me. Saliva dripped in thick strings from his gaping jaws. Blood matted the soaked fur near one of his right eyes and his hind leg. It was hard to tell which of his three heads was the dominant one. They were all glaring at me with blackened hatred through the rain.

Fluffy made the hound of Hades look like a puppy. Not exactly fair in hand-to-hand combat, but most street-fighting clubs didn’t have rules. At least not rules that went in favor of anyone but the man in charge. Or rather the troll in charge, in this case.

Like most in the crowd, Fuzzbert waited for me to call the fight. Like heck was I tapping out. A lot of money was riding on this.

But I wasn’t here for the money.

“Ember?” Fuzzbert stepped toward me. He cast a wary glance at the sky. Trolls didn’t like lightning.

I held up my hand. “I need a minute to breathe.”

That last hit was the hardest I’d ever taken. Fluffy must have been on steroids. Or a drug that was less than legal.

I’d fared well enough against two of his heads, but that third one literally bit me in the backside. It was a shame they confiscated my dagger at the start of the fight. I’d love to stake one of his heads to the wall.

“Time’s up, Ember.” The crowd pressed in closer to hear Fuzzbert. They were a rainbow of colors, each with ponchos of various sizes. Folks in Denver sure took their fight clubs seriously. “Are you tapping out?”

Wiping a mixture of blood and rain from my brow, I grinned and thumped Fuzzbert on his warty nose.

“If you were half as smart as you are ugly, you’d already know the answer to that.”

Fuzzbert’s breath wheezed around the gap in his lips. Crooked teeth, as long as my fingers, jutted from his gums.

“Speak for yourself.” His laugh sounded like an old lady who’d smoked for three lifetimes.

“Aw, come on, Fuzz. You know it’s not nice to make a girl cry,” I said.

I wasn’t as ugly as a troll, but I wasn’t a beauty queen either, thanks to a run-in I had a few years ago with fire. Turns out healing tears did squat on that.

Fluffy’s hackles rose at the first rumble of thunder in the distance. He squared off with me. A sharp bark sent the crowd back to clear the area.

“That mutt has got a hair up his backside tonight.” Fuzzbert might look menacing to most, but I knew his sweet spot. He loved money. It didn’t matter how he got it.

I palmed him the last bit of cash I had to my name. “I need some information. He’s going to give it up, one way or another.”

The troll shook his head. “It’s your funeral.”

“You’d better be careful, Fuzz.” I tied my hair back into a semblance of a bun. “Someone might think you’ve gone soft on a human.”

He snorted and stomped away. If I wasn’t paying so well, he’d probably eat me for that comment.

Find out what happens next in FROM THE EMBERS.

 

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