The fire subsided enough for Jonathan to see eight silver legs that bent out five feet in every direction, low blue flame dancing down each limb. Many eyes like melted glass stared at him unwaveringly, a red glow coming from deep within. A spider, monstrous and beautiful in form. ….“What happened in the Fáliquerci?” His mouth was so dry his words felt slurred. “The wind—”

“Wind cannot stop me, whether it comes mocking or wrathful.”

“Then you did not call it?” Jonathan persisted.

“It was the Ophidian who brought the storm into your wood, not I.” Bryn said softly, creeping nearer. “He had been hunting you for a long time. But not nearly so long as I.”

Next week the book will be available for order on Amazon! Am very excited. Also,  three new poems up: “Waiting,”  (Esther’s story reworked through a 21st century viewpoint) and “David and Jonathan,” (that lovely moment when Jonathan first heard David speak).

Also–“Aaron.” That poor dude only gets talked about with his staff turning into a snake. His story is so much richer and grief stricken and really needs to be told.