One of my goals this year has been to get more of my work out there — not necessarily through the traditional publishing route, but on my blog, through medium, and — rather ambitiously — by posting the first novel I ever wrote (under a pen name) free on the web.
So if you’re curious about my work — or if you just enjoy a good old gothic YA fantasy, then here’s a sampler of A Murder of Crows, which follows 13-year-old Abigail Crowe as she’s drawn into a web of family secrets revolving around that most illegal and forbidden of arts: magic. I’ll be posting bits of it fortnightly for the foreseeable future, though you can always go ahead and purchase the book (or ebook) if you get impatient.
I hope you enjoy it.
A Murder of Crows | Chapter I
A Most Dismal Prospect
The worst part was not being allowed to scream.
If I’d had it my way, everyone from the hunch-backed pallbearers, to the long-faced priest, to the undertaker with his black hat and long coat would have gotten a scream in the face, just so they’d know exactly how I felt about the whole affair. Unfortunately, the proper bearing for funerals is non-negotiable: you are to shed tears (but not bawl), be respectful (but not dour), and stand up straight and tall throughout the long-winded preaching (all without being too stiff). Considering that, screaming is not generally considered appropriate, even when you think it should be.
Even when it’s a better option than breaking things.
Even when it’s your dad who’s died.