Never bring a stick to a sword fight.

India Furia has always walked a hard road. As a member of the subversive Eternal Order, her top priority is to stop the Prophecy of Light from being fulfilled at any cost, including alienating her family and the only man she’s ever loved…or assassinating the People’s beloved Oracle.

Hiro Okada has been protecting India from the People’s wrath since she snuck into his apartment and tried to lure him to the dark side. At work, he’s on the path of a traitor, but at home, he walks a thin line between trusting India and trusting his heart.

But the People are on a collision course with destiny, and fate may have other plans for India. Can Hiro learn to trust her mercurial nature before she breaks his heart? Or are they trapped in the roles they’ve chosen to play, just when a larger danger threatens to tear them apart?

Copyright 2019. Published by Bone Diggers Press.

Excerpt from Redemption

India Furia eased the curtain aside a fraction of an inch and stared out the cabin’s window at the snow fluttering onto the empty, graveled parking area. Seven weeks, she’d been there, trapped in this An-cursed wilderness with no one for company except a herd of deer, the occasional black bear, and, when he could get away, Hiro. Seven weeks since he’d rescued her from the clutches of that goody two shoes Rebecca Upton. Seven weeks since her sister Indigo, beloved above all, had submitted to the Blade’s Son and become mortal.

Which one of those was more shameful escaped India in that moment. She flicked the curtain into place and paced away from the window’s temptation.

Hiro was late.

India stopped in the middle of the living room, her hands opening and closing into hard fists at her side. It’s not like she missed him or anything. He’d barely spoken to her since the day she’d woken in Hiro’s isolated getaway, handcuffed to his bed like the prisoner Rebecca had tried to make her.

That bitch would’ve had her chained like a common criminal and, worse, confined in one of the cave-like cells hidden away in the deep, dank dark tunneling through the mountain housing the Archives in Tellowee.

India shuddered, shaking off the sheer terror tightening her gut. Never would she be a prisoner, bound by duty or force to the will of another. She’d rather die a hundred deaths.

And had suffered worse escaping just such a fate.

Two seconds later, she was at the window again, peering out into the frigid, winter landscape. Snow frosted the grass verging the forest surrounding the mountain cabin. Intrepid cardinals flitted through the pine, flashing hints of color among the grey-green tree trunks. The world outside was silent, serene, and entirely too rural for India’s taste.

Blessed Mother, where was he?

Her cellphone buzzed against the rustic coffee table sitting between the couch and the Navajo-patterned blanket thrown over its backrest, and the fire roaring in the woodstove. This phone was the one concession Hiro had made to her many demands for more freedom, the one lifeline she had to the outside world, but only because it led directly to him.

Sneaky bastard had wiretapped the damn thing. No matter who she called or texted, no matter what she did with it, he would know the number, if not the who and what.

And that’s what she got for sleeping with a former Delta Force Operator and current co-owner of a growing personal security business. For all she knew, he had bugs tucked into every nook and cranny of the cabin and was, even now, listening to her pace back and forth across the oak floors in her socked feet.

Oh, sure, she’d looked for them, but the man was stealthy, clever, and he had access to tech so advanced, it wouldn’t hit the black market and be available for the average bad-doer for at least a few weeks after its release. She couldn’t counter what she didn’t understand, could she?

The phone buzzed again, yanking her out of her growing irritation. She strode across the room and snatched it up, thumbed into the first text message she’d received, and stopped cold.

Finish it.

Satisfaction flooded into her. She deleted the message, mostly likely sent from a burner if the sender was smart, and dropped the phone onto the table. The drone of an approaching vehicle fluttered at the edge of her hearing. She crossed to the window and lifted the curtain, spotted Hiro’s SUV, and allowed herself a small smile.

Her little interlude with the Blade, and then with her rescuer, hadn’t alienated her as much as she’d feared. The job she’d left unfinished was waiting for her, and she fully intended to see it through, come Hell or high water, or any force that bitch Rebecca Upton chose to throw at her.

India dropped the curtain and stepped back, affecting an impatient expression for the man who had, for a brief time, been her lover.

Let the games begin.