She’d been imagining this day for all of Braden’s life, running through a hundred different scenarios, thinking about variables, different routes they might take.

And now that the moment was here, she had no idea where they were going.

3 18

Val shifted the gun and fired a burst over his shoulder. The report cracked, and the muzzle flash lit up his face.

“Oh, my God!” he screamed, his hand going to his ear.

0 9

time,

To celebrate the upcoming release of The Two Riders (Forbidden Minds: Book 2), I’m planning to give away signed paperback copies of and to three people!

Details below.

(RTs appreciated)

13 20

For a moment, the only sounds in the world were the woman’s sobbing and the sound of Jessica’s own heart, which in the face of death raced as if it had to pound out a certain number of beats before it was stilled forever.

2 20

“Suddenly the whine of the Dragonfly got louder and closer, its thrust engines screaming. White lights shone over the tops of the trees, and wind gushed down on them from above.”

1 12

“You want me to kill Theresa,” said Bowen.

“It’s time,” said Jones-McMartin. “She’s languished enough. It’s time to give her some peace.”

1 13

His expression made him look older. It was his narrow eyes and the way his mouth was firmly set, like someone who knew he had to do something that was going to hurt and was just working up the will to do it.

3 13

Jessica hated violence. She’d rather get beaten up than to do harm to someone else. That had been why she and her sister had fallen out. Jessica had taken it as a betrayal when her sister had joined the Marines.

3 17

Barely visible over the tops of the trees, the half-moon stared down at them like a drowsy eye only half-interested in what happened below.

2 25

Val pictured men with guns running through the woods in wide search patterns. Snarling dogs chasing her son up trees. Drones buzzing around the two of them and firing sedative darts.

They’d never stop hunting her or Braden now.

3 14

The holograph showed a video of a baby developing inside an artificial uterus. Then the image shifted to show a man at an outdoor cafe with a boy who looked identical to him except for his skin, which was the same color blue as the midday sky.

4 26

Just now, time seemed like the worst enemy of all.

1 15

She held on to her husband’s hand—his surgeon’s hand. Those hands had healed many people’s bodies. Had removed her contraceptive implant. Had delivered Braden when he was born. But now they couldn’t do anything for her or for him.

4 27

His face looked older than his age. It was his narrow eyes and the way his mouth was firmly set—like someone who knew he had to do something that was going to hurt and was just working up the will to do it.

3 18

He still felt, still saw, still heard and tasted and smelled. But now everything was a shade darker, the dusky light a little dimmer, the glow of her green eyes, so close to his, less unearthly than before.


2 19

Tears streamed his cheeks, and the grief in his face twisted her heart like someone wringing water from a cloth.

4 32

“I love you,” he says. “But when I get home, I’m going to try to work things out with my wife.”

Wife.

The word feels like a sliver of ice sliding down her throat––the kind that gets caught in your gullet and cuts like a knife until it melts.

4 32

She lay down next to him—naked, exposed, vulnerable, and broken—and thought that in the end, all other knowledge would fail. Compared with this, even telepathy wasn’t worth much. Just another way of knowing that would deceive you if you let it.

6 23

She put her head on his chest so that she could feel his heartbeat with her face. Feel the life there. The warmth of his flesh.

Nothing’s really ours in the end, she thought. That’s the key to everything. And it’s the hardest thing to accept.

7 25