It’s the Sunday before release day, so you know what that means — Sample Sunday! Unspoken, the twelfth and final book in my post-apocalyptic paranormal romance series, The Djinn Wars, comes out on Wednesday, June 26th. While this is a standalone romance with no cliffhangers, it does help to have read at least the opening trilogy of the series, although it’s not necessary. Since Unspoken is currently on pre-order, you can get it now for the release price of just $2.99 and have it delivered straight to your e-reader or app on Wednesday!
Yes, it was the girl he’d saved, but so very changed, he wasn’t sure whether he would have recognized her if it hadn’t been for her eyes. Before, she had been slender, but now she was thin, the bones of her porcelain-pretty face sharp, bluish shadows under her enormous eyes. Her pale hair was straggling and dirty, pulled back into a messy ponytail. And instead of the short skirt and form-fitting top she’d worn as she ran away from him on that warm afternoon two years ago, she had on a baggy pair of the blue pants mortals called jeans, along with a shapeless shirt and workmanlike boots on her feet.
Her hand lifted from the doorknob, went to her throat. “What…?” The word came out in a rusty whisper, and she shook her head and started over, voice a little stronger this time. “You’re real?”
“Yes,” Idris replied, a pang of unexpected pity moving through him. “What is your name?”
“Am-amber.” She stumbled over the syllables, as if it had been a long time since she’d had to say her name aloud.
And of course it had been. A whole two years, merely an eye blink for a djinn, but probably an eternity for a woman alone.
“You have been here all this time?” he asked, making sure he kept his tone gentle.
“Yes,” she replied. “Ever since that time you rescued me.” Her head lifted, and he thought he saw color flare in her pale, thin cheeks. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” he said simply.
“Why are you here?”
A good question. He could give her an answer, but that would only lead to more questions. And yet, as he had just told himself, he had plenty of time to answer those questions, as long as they were not too uncomfortable. “This is my home now.”
Her eyes widened, and she glanced down the hallway past him to the open, skylit main room of the visitors’ center. “Here?”
He couldn’t help smiling a little. “Well, not here exactly. The main house.”
“You’re living in an art gallery?”
“It was a home once, and is a home again now. Let me show you.”
