Plus an update about how you can follow me on social media
Are you ready to finally meet the rycke and his human? He’s that silent, passive winged dude that was being held in the military base, never fighting back. What’s with that?
I am now working on Book Three (and missing Edin. And Hunter. And Danny. And Wyn). I have to take a moment to express how incredibly shocked and grateful I am at the response I have had so far, from you lovely readers. Genuinely, I didn’t think anyone would read my weird monster love stories. The response has far exceeded anything I could have imagined, and I can’t tell you what it means. Thank you.
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I have done it. I have joined Facebook. It’s been a long time, and wow, is it different. Bear with me while I get to grips with it, but you can follow my Author Page on there to keep up to date with how my writing progress is going, plus other sneak peeks (I’ll be posting a second teaser for The Rycke at some point).
For a first sneak peek of The Rycke , keep reading. And if you want to get these teasers sooner, as well as future bonus content, please consider signing up to my newsletter (you should get a pop-up somewhere for it…).
Excerpt – The Rycke (Monstrous: Book Three)
This was the first military building we’d been able to poke around in; the first that we were aware of falling under the might of the beasties. The night it had gone up in a towering column of smoke that had been visible for miles, Anchor had sent me on a scouting mission to see what was happening. I’d camped nearby for a few days, then returned every other week since.
In the first few days, I’d watched the more bloodthirsty beasties roaming the wreckage in search of survivors to pick off. Then a while back I noticed a new set of faint tyre track marks leading away from the building—looked like someone had taken one of the military trucks. But there’d been no other movement around the building.
I’d reported it empty a month ago, but Anchor was cautious. She’d still made us wait. Which was fine—I wasn’t going to argue. I was cautious by nature too, and there was a very good possibility that the military would come and remove anything sensitive, or raze the building to destroy the remains, or… something. But there’d been nothing.
And even though I agreed with Anchor’s cautious approach, she wasn’t the one who’d had Rig whining in her ear, practically drooling over the thought of the tech left behind and fretting over it being scavenged before he could get to it.
Well, it looked like no one else had been here yet to pick anything off. There weren’t any other raider camps close, and having the military base fairly nearby to ours scared off nomads and monsters most of the time, which was why we’d been able to live somewhat peacefully out here.
As I made my way through the shell of the building, I could see some boot prints in the dust and soot. The stuff was thick on the ground and every other horizontal surface. The concrete floor was pitted with bullet holes. Once gleaming metal doors and window frames had become mottled with dents from gunfire. Anything that had been made of glass was shattered completely, the remaining shards crunching under my heavy boots as I walked, my footsteps otherwise silent. On the surfaces that weren’t coated in ash, old and dead blood had dried and was starting to flake. And there was a lot of it.
I was nearly at the staircase, but I kept one ear trained on Rig in the next room, rustling through whatever he’d deemed worthy of his crafting skills. I stepped on something that crunched under my boot but wasn’t glass. I didn’t look down, seeing as it sounded suspiciously like bone. The sound was uncomfortably loud in the otherwise still silence of the abandoned building.
There was a sudden flurry of movement next door, the sound followed by Rig sucking in a sharp breath.
My body went tense and completely still, ears straining. I thought I heard… something. A faint whisper… but as I cocked my head to try and discern the noises better, Rig’s raspy voice cut through the air so sharply it made me jump.
“Ghost… Get in here.”
I was already moving when he added, “Now.”
I stepped into the room, shotgun raised, my finger on the trigger. We hadn’t had shells for it for years, but it was a good deterrent. I had a crowbar tucked into my belt if I really did need to fend anything off, not that I ever wanted to use it.
I wet my dry lips as I silently made my way over to Rig, eyes darting, trying to find the danger. My heart was pounding. I could feel my pulse jumping at the base of my throat.
Rig was staring at something behind a tall shelving unit, something I couldn’t see. He wasn’t attempting to reach for his gun, which meant someone—or something—was either poised to strike, or it wasn’t a threat.
When I reached him, looked over his shoulder and saw what he’d found, I couldn’t immediately tell which was the case.
LILY MAYNE 