It's almost time!
December 8th cannot come soon enough—though I have a LOT to do before Christmas, so if time could hurry, then stop after the 8th!?
Here's what early ARC readers are saying ...
Brilliant storytelling and heart fluttering romance....Miller once again writes a story that had me fully engrossed from start to finish.
—Mandy with I Read Indie
Awaken the Soul is a fast paced, paranormal romance. I loved it! I read it on sitting. I was hooked from start to finish. The characters are well developed. And the secrets. Oh my.
—Lyn with 2 Girls & a Book
This short story held me throughout. It was fast
paced, the characters were very well developed,
and the plot was intriguing.
—Sue, GoodReads Review
Check out the sneak peek below...
Everywhere I look. Pure, undiluted, untouched.
Colorado in December.
Banking left, the tip of my wing disturbs a snow-laden pine bough, scattering ice crystals. The mountain forest is peaceful this late in the afternoon, though the threat of a storm lurks in the gray sky. A gust rolls in from the north, and I snap my wings, letting the airstream guide my path toward home.
How long will this peace last? This morning's message from Elias served as an eerie reminder of my time limit. Four months. Tucking my wings, I shift, free-falling toward the ground, dodging trees as I dart in and around the woods. Freedom. I arch skyward, shooting high above Mount Alexa. The ground, the falls, the trees—they are blemishes on a snowy white canvas.
A scream penetrates the peace. I twist, levitating among the clouds, my gaze narrowing on the ground far below.
The crimson trail, smeared for yards before the dense forest covers the evidence, is hard to miss.
Blood. Thick, human blood.
This is Havenwood Falls—it's not an abnormal occurrence in the forest. But . . .
I dive, lured by a scent that burns my nostrils and confuses my senses.
I'm on the ground within moments of her scream. Her keening death cries prick at my skin, sending an unfamiliar sensation skittering up my spine and across my wings. Angry snarls join her moans. I should leave, yet I press on—following the blood trail. The creature drags her instead of making a clean kill. Most shifters kill, rather than play with, their food. I maintain distance, preferring to remain in the good graces of the other supernatural beings within Havenwood Falls. Angel or not, minding my business keeps the peace. History has proven this. The world is a better place when all creatures, good and evil, play nice together. That type of thinking will be my downfall in four months, if I'm not careful.
An unnatural calm claims the still woods, and my senses sharpen. I move forward as an ache builds up in my chest. Her cries diminish, but her scent strengthens. It's familiar. The spicy combination of ginger root and mint. I duck beneath low branches and break through thicker brush, my steps quickening as I track them. Another growl disturbs the woods, and I pause. Twenty feet ahead, a shadow of fur and menace crosses my path—retreating. The feeling in my chest intensifies like a fist crushing my heart.
Ginger, mint, and something—more. They inundate me as I maneuver around a thick tree and come to a stop.
She is bathed in blood. Her long golden hair spreads around her head, a silken halo on a snowy pillow of white. From my vantage point, I cannot see her face, but her scent—her perfume—gives her away.