In honor of finally FINALLY getting a website up and running, I'm going to do something I've never done before.
This is an excerpt from the first chapter of Remnant, Book Three of the Slave Series, due to release March 31st, 2019. Just a small, private exchange between Hannah and Cash, a calm moment before the chaos.
I'm so excited and completely shocked that we've made it here for the most part unscathed. Three years, four books...nearly time for a break. (My kiddos want Mom to be deadline free for a time.)
Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoy. :)
I can't wait to share the rest soon!
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REMNANT (BOOK THREE)
By, Laura Frances
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE
“The stars are out.”
He says the words quiet, and something in his voice makes me sad.
The sky is clear, the snow passed. We stand on the roof, and I lean my neck back enough to get a view of the millions of twinkling lights set against a black sky, then drop my gaze to the streets below. Even beneath a canopy of stars, I can’t feel the beauty of it. A current of nervous energy pulses through my body. This valley is primed for war.
Cash says nothing. He stands with his eyebrows pinched, staring into the darkness. Golden hair has appeared along his jawline, and I like it. My father used to grow a beard, in the last years.
“Will he come?” I ask quietly. “Do you think the Council will join the fight?”
“No.” I’m struck by the finality of his tone.
“Even at the end they’d stay hidden?”
No response. I sense the weighty thoughts he’s battling, but I can’t get at them. I grab the sleeve of his coat and gently tug. At last, he turns to me. The smile he offers is more for my sake than his, a small lift in the corner. He leans his hip to the wall and watches me.
There isn’t much I can say that hasn’t already been said. It makes no sense to ask what’s wrong. Still, I want to help him.
“What do you want to see most?” I ask, crossing my arms against a cold gust of wind. The wound in my shoulder aches, reminding me of Drew. But if I focus hard enough on each moment as it comes, maybe all the deaths will feel more bearable.
“In the South,” I add.
Cash continues to study me, his gaze moving over my face. I worry for a while that I won’t be able to draw a response from him, but after a time he steps closer.
There is no grin when he says it. The word leaves his mouth like a natural thing. Just sincerity. Honesty. I always expect a degree of shyness from Cash when he says things that matter deeply. But this time there is only steadiness. He looks at me like he’s sure, like this is something he’s considered…and decided.
“The South is just a place,” he says, and there is the hesitation; the shift in his body; the fight to keep speaking the things he wants to say. “If I lost you here, I wouldn’t want it.”
An unconscious movement happens when he’s speaking; my arms loosen and fall. I shift closer. The vulnerable words he’s saying draw me in, echoing what I feel.
Soldiers stand only a few feet from us. Since the new wave of Watchers joined, I often feel their eyes on us, observing the connection Cash and I share. I sense them watching now.
“What would you do?” I ask. His fingers brush against mine, eyes following the movement.
“The North will need help when this is done,” he says, flicking his gaze to mine, then back to our hands. I know the truth. Regardless of my fate, this nation will need him as it mends.