I'm just back from a work cruise and mini unplug (tough life I know) so fancied sending you a little teaser of Book 2: In Search Of Maya.​
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It is certainly 'nearing completion' with more info to come this month.

A June release on the cards.
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Of course, if you're getting this email and haven't finished Book 1... then I'd give this email a miss. Spoiler alert 🚨
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Chapter Two - Beyond The Pale

It’s a hard to describe feeling—leaving behind your old life for an adventure into the unknown. A certain exhilaration. A cocktail of fear and freedom. Those first few sips must be cherished.

- Stephanie Queen -

Under the intense glare of the Blue Moon, Claude Talador fled, breathing ragged, muscles quivering. His mind reeled from the moment his feet had left the riverbank, the rush of the Agumon below. He had landed—somehow. Joints sore from the impact. But he was here. Alive.

Unlike Maude. And Musky. Maybe?

Tierra Libre was behind him. The State. The Monvida. The howlers.

He had escaped.

Escaped!

The moon’s light faded as the terrain changed. With each laboured breath, the shadows grew braver, deeper, complete. His pace had been steady at first. His four limbs serving him well. But now he stumbled, hands bracing against trees, against roots, against anything that held him up. His body protested; he refused to stop. Until his limbs gave out.

He squatted on his haunches.

Dodge. Candice. Trent Mallson. Where were they? They had made the leap too. It seemed that way at least. He strained for any sound—a crackle, a murmur—the rainforest only answered with the distant drip of water and the slow creak of shifting branches.

Alone.

A much frowned upon desire back there.

Claude dragged himself upright, forcing movement. His body screamed for rest. But rest was dangerous on the ground. Higher. He needed to be higher. He pulled himself up, seeking refuge in the canopy, rough bark and splinters seeking to leave their mark. The cuts did not matter.

Perched in the dense branches, he pressed his back to the trunk, heart thundering, refusing to slow. Yet he needed some sleep. A chance to recover. His head dipped, chin brushing his chest. Then—snap. A sound too close. His eyes flew open, breath held. Nothing. Just the insects, or maybe his imagination. He exhaled, slow, heavy-lidded once more. Another nod, another jolt. Fitful patches of slumber broken by phantom sounds and gnawing unease.

***

So, this is only part of Claude's first chapter. Tia's one was already included in Book 1 so will be identical and take the spot of the opening chapter of Book 2.

Part of the challenge is deftfully reminding a reader what happened in the first part of the trilogy (without impacting flow & pacing)...

We'll do our best.
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Hope you're having a good Bank Holiday weekend.
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​- J. R. Roberts