Then there was the Great Xan Janal, who claimed to
have gone over the Edge and slayed a mighty beast to save a village. He boasted
that there were many worlds, all separated by the Veil. There were people of
different races who spoke weird languages. Some were tall and fair with long,
flowing, silver hair. Others were short, squat, covered in fur and grunted a
lot. Those stories always made me laugh. My eyes blurred as tears welled up,
thinking of him. Whether they were real or figments of his imagination, Xan had
given his life to sharing his stories of adventure. And I wasn’t about to let
him down.

As I crawled on, I wondered which world I would find
on the other side of the Veil. Would it be a world of thick jungles, filled
with loud, screaming creatures jumping from one towering tree to the next? Or
would it be a crystalline world overflowing with unimaginable colours? I
was hoping for the water world, for Muut’s sake, except for the whole swimming
thing. That scared me.

I looked back again and then beyond Muut. I scanned
the horizon and watched as the heat rippled off the scorched ground. The only
things that stood as high as a man here were the boulders that dotted the
landscape. There was no lush green foliage, and the rivers were more often dry
more than filled with water. I dreamed of seeing the leaves of a plant that was
as big as me. I fantasised about dipping my fingers into a cool running stream
and carrying the refreshing water to my lips; skipping stones across its
surface and seeing splashes instead of puffs of dust.

I didn’t know if Xan’s stories were real or made-up
fantasies to impress the ladies. But what I knew was that I didn’t want to die
without at least attempting to find out. I owed him that much. So I turned back
and faced the Edge. I checked the straps that held my knives tucked against my
wrists. I placed my right hand out in front of me and then my right knee, then
my left hand, left knee. I slowly crawled to the Edge.

The fingers on my left hand reached it first. I
stopped and looked at my hand. The tips of my fingers curved over an edge. My
breath caught in my throat. I moved my right hand up to match my left and
swallowed deeply as the tips of both hands were now bent joyously over the Edge
of our world. I slowly lowered myself down to the rough ground and felt the
sharp rocks poking me in my chest and belly.

Carefully, I pulled my body up to the Edge and peered
over. The air coalesced into a swirling mist of obscurity, roiling and bulging,
causing my vision to slide and refocus as I tried to peer through it.

I pulled myself up to the Edge, raising onto my elbows
and stretching my neck as far as I could. The grey mist swirled around my head
forming dewdrops on my cheeks. I blew into it, watching as it whirled madly
away from me, quickly folding back in on itself. I extended my arm and felt a cool
dampness cover me like a second skin. The further I extended it, the less I
could see of it.

I pulled myself up and swivelled around to sit on the Edge
with my legs now dangling freely. My feet disappeared into the swirling mist
that roiled below me. Then I leaned out as far as I could and swished my arms
back and forth, trying to clear a view through the grey wall.

I either leaned too far or whipped my arms too wildly,
because I tumbled off the ledge into the mist. My heart leapt as I felt myself
sliding down the edge of the world. Suddenly, I jerked to a stop when the rope
tied to my ankle caught me tight. My breath gushed from my lungs and my heart
pounded my ribs.

I heard Muut calling to me, his cries distant,
muffled.

I hung for a moment, dangling upside down against the
edge of the world. I released my fear as I pushed myself up away from the rough
rock face. Curling my knees beneath me, I crouched for a moment, waiting to see
if I would fall. Nothing happened. The cool mist swirled around me; my head
swooned with the mesmerising movement. 

I filled my lungs with the moist air and stood. Fully
expecting to topple over, I stretched my arms wide to catch myself when I did.
I stood there as rigid as a boulder with my arms spread, knees locked, breath
held, eyes tightly closed.

Nothing.

I slowly opened my left eye, peeking, face scrunched tight,
awaiting the imagined impact. Both eyes sprang open, and the air exploded out
of my lungs. A breathtaking view assaulted my eyes.

Dark Side of the Veil

Ebba took the chance to
glance at him. He had sunglasses on, which hid his eyes. Would they be blue? To
go with his brown hair? Realizing he was waiting for a

reply, she sighed. “My
booth is the one with all the people lined up in front of it. Over there to the
right.” She pointed in the direction they were walking.

 “Wow. What are you
serving?”

 “The same thing I’ve done
for the last two years.Subs.”

 The man stopped suddenly.
“Subs? That’s it?”

 “Yes. I have only two
things on my menu. One is a chopped Italian sub. I bake bread in the shape of a
fish and add chopped-up prosciutto, pepperoni, and salami, along with lettuce,
onion, tomato, and provolone cheese. I have my own special Italian vinaigrette
dressing that I add to it too. The second item is my bestseller, a dill pickle
sub.”

 They continued walking
toward her booth.

 “A dill pickle sub? Never
heard of that or had one before. What is it?”

 “Glad you asked. I use
sliced dill pickles that I order from a local Amish woman. The key is to use a
small layer of mayonnaise on the pickles. This seals in any leftover juices
from the pickle. Then I layer on turkey and prosciutto with cheddar cheese, a
tomato, and a lettuce leaf.”

 “Ebba! Hurry up. We need
those plates.”

 She waved to Narda, who was
signaling to her. “Oh my. We better hurry. The line has gotten very long.” With
hurried steps, she directed the man carrying the bin to the back of the booth.

 “It’s about time. Did you
see all the people waiting?”

 Ebba looked at Narda. “Be
glad we have plates. I almost dropped the bin. This man saved it—and me—from
falling.”

 “Where do you want this?”

 She and Narda looked at the
man in unison.

 “Oh, sorry. Just set it
down there.” Narda pointed to an empty spot on the table. Once he set it down,
she opened it and took out a stack of plates. “Thanks for saving my sis. I’ll
take these up front and let Opaline know you’ve returned.”

 Ignoring Narda’s sarcastic
reply, she turned to the man.

 “Thanks again—”

 “Neal, I’ve been looking
for you. I see you’ve met Ms. Mignon. I was setting up the equipment before she
left.”

 What the heck? This man,
who helped her, was the one and only Mr. James? She’d literally run into him.
He’d sent her pulse raging, and she’d had sexual thoughts about

him. His first name was
Neal. Could he be the one? Her soulmate?

No, she didn’t have time
for this. It was just a coincidence his name started with the letter N. “You’re
. . . My goodness, you must think I’m the worst person ever.”

 “I don’t. I didn’t know you
were the person I’d come here to meet. Let’s forget about why I’m here. How can
Seth and I help you with the crowd of people waiting for food? What can we do?”

 “Do? You want to work?” She
hesitated, her mind still reeling.

 “Yes, it looks like two
more sets of hands would be helpful.”

 “If . . . you’re sure. I
could use your help. First, you both have to wash your hands and put on the
plastic gloves. The dill pickle subs are almost gone. And I need to make
another batch of ingredients for the chopped subs.”

 “Yes, ma’am,” the two men
said.

 Ebba smiled and watched
them do the safety protocol procedures for serving food, as she did the same.
Taking out the three meats, cheese, and tomatoes from the coolers, she placed
them onto the cutting board. Her nerves at Mr. James’s arrival and his offering
to help had her doubting herself. The pendant throbbed against her skin.

 “Ready to help. What can we
do?”

 His deep, rich voice was
sexier in person than on the phone.

 Stop! It was time to
concentrate. She had customers to serve. “Okay. Once I have the chopped salad
ready, I need you to fill the fish-shaped bread with three scoops. You can start by opening and
laying out the bread on the flat pan. While you’re doing that, it will allow me
time to whip up some of the dill subs after I finish with the chopped Italian
mixture.”

 Within a few minutes, she
had chopped the ingredients and added the vinaigrette. She slid the bowl over
to the two men.

 “Ebba, we need more subs,”
Opaline said.

 Looking up, she saw her
sister standing in front of her.

 When had she come over?
“Mr. James and his cameraman are just finishing with the next tray of them.”

 “Mr. James?”

 She gave Opaline a look
that said, ‘Don’t ask questions.’ “Yes. I ran into him, and he was kind enough
to help. I’m working on the dill subs, and then I’ll do up another batch of the
chopped Italian subs again.”

 “Narda said he was a
looker. I’ve been working on a spell to help you find—”

 “Dear sister, this is not
the time or place. Please take the tray of subs up to the front.”

 “Of course. Sorry, but we
will talk about it tonight.”

 And just like that, her
sister took the tray of finished subs and left. Out of the corners of her eyes,
she saw Neal and the cameraman engaged in a conversation. Opaline was right.
The three of them were going to have a lot to talk about later. Even now, just
hearing his soft voice was rendering her pulse to pound erratically.

 Again, the thought crossed
her mind that Neal might be the one that fate had chosen for her. Suddenly, she
realized he was staring at her. He smiled, and she nearly crumbled to the
ground. With as much control as Ebba could gather within herself, she returned
his smile. Was he interested in her?

 

Narda’s Truth

A shocking prophecy shatters her reality: Sarai is a Half
Kasst, descended from an erased bloodline and born to stand against a secret
network of aristocratic vampires.

Now hunted, Sarai must reclaim a legacy meant to be wiped
from history, and embrace her power before the forces hunting her finish what
they began millennia ago. But power always demands payment.

 

**Releases Sep 8, 2026 – PreOrder Now!**

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

 Nick
and Rooster’s conversation lagged as they both paused to watch Andy and Buck
approach. The afternoon had grown warm, the hottest so far, and the men waved
at dust and bugs that crawled and bit, making them miserable.

            Buck stopped and bobbed a nod at the
two foremen. “Men.”

            “Sir,” both mumbled in reply.

Buck
grunted, then headed on past the men with Andy at his heels. As she hustled
pass Rooster, her eyes met his and she couldn’t help but notice the intensity
there.

She
tripped over a rut and ran several steps ahead to regain her balance. Stopping
to readjust the stake bag on her shoulder, she waved away a sweat bee. “Go
ahead, Andy, trip and fall at his feet,” she muttered under her breath.

Two
steps later she lurched to a halt and dropped the bag to clutch at her underarm
where something, more than likely the sweat bee, stung her with a vengeance.

Shouting
curses, she danced and twisted in a circle, yanking at her safety vest and
shirt and grabbing at her sports bra in an attempt the stop the burning sting.
Finally, she ripped one arm out of her shirt and vest. Shoving her fingers up
under the tight sweaty bra, she scooped out the bee and jumped back as its body
fell to the dirt.

She
stomped on the bee and kinked her neck, trying to examine her armpit area, but
then she remembered where she was. She froze with one hand still up the side of
her bra. Her head came up, only to find every man on the right-of-way,
numbering well over thirty, staring at her in amazement.

“Need
a hand?” Nick called out with a grin.

“It
was a bee—” she started, then with a snort of disgust, she yanked her hand from
her bra. Hefting the heavy bag, she realized her shirt and safety vest were
still bunched up around one side of her neck, leaving her arm and her stomach
half exposed. Three more cuss words escaped as she dropped the bag and fumbled
back into her clothing, with all eyes watching her every move.

The
sting continued to burn as she grabbed the stake bag and stomped past Buck,
with her cheeks red and hot.

“What
was that all about?” the old man asked as she passed.

Ignoring
him, Andy continued up the right-of-way.

***

            Rooster smoothed his fingers down
his beard trying to hide a laugh as he watched Andy and Buck retreat. Nick
hooted by his side, cackling with the other hands as they regaled Andy tearing
off her shirt. Rooster’s hand dropped and he frowned, wondering how bad the
sting was. He’d had a sweat bee trapped in his pants once, and it was a pain he
still remembered.

Love on the Line 2

 An award-winning
writer of contemporary romance, she loves telling tales of the
less-than-perfect hero or heroine who transforms with each turn of a page. She
also writes historical fiction under the pen name Griffin Brady.

 G.K. is a wife and
the proud mom of three grown sons. When she’s not writing, she might be
reading, traveling, drinking wine, listening to music, or gardening—sometimes
all at once! She currently resides in Colorado with her very patient husband.

  

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the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Enter the Slapshot Summer Giveaway Here

 

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