BIRTHDAY POST! With a gift to the readers!



Two-nine. Hard to believe I’m nearing the end of my twenties. What a decade of largely awesome things for me (which isn’t completely over) with the occasional huge travesty sprinkled in.

The book has been a huge source of joy for me. Publishing it and having this much success early has been something of a dream, and to have received so much support from readers asking for the next book is a special kind of motivation.

Outside of the book, life is bumping around it’s normal crazy way. Good things and bad things, plenty of shit to learn from. I’m just borderline euphoric that my grad semester is over and I get to enjoy the hell out of my summer and get this next book done.

Speaking of, I have a little gift for y’all! It’s a small excerpt from Chapter 1 of BOOK 2 of the American Rebirth Series.

Enjoy you blood-crazed animals. And by that I mean sweet, kindly people. ❤


The gunshot cracked the air, echoing deep down the roads. The deer darted away in leaping bounds. Whiskey’s heart raced through his chest as he scanned the area, turning to the others.
Vicks’ rifle was against his shoulder, muzzle slightly down as he stared at where the deer had been. Whiskey stormed over and grabbed a handful of Vicks’ shirt, pulling him close.
“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Whiskey grunted at him. Vicks’ face didn’t move, a fake calm in denial of any wrongdoing.
“I had a clear shot. We’re here so I can learn, right?”
“If you had a clear shot, why isn’t it lyin’ in the road?”
“It moved.”
“Yeah, living things tend to do that.” Whiskey released his shirt, taking a step back. “Listen to me kid. I don’t give a shit if you see the devil walkin’ down the road. You don’t shoot a damn thing until I tell you to from now on, understand?”
“Fine.” Vicks said unenthusiastically. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“One, that was dinner. And two, if there was anyone even remotely nearby they know we are here. A Ranger never fires his gun unless he has to. It’s loud, and it’s dangerous and we don’t waste ammunition.”
Vicks stared him down.
“You got something to say?” Whiskey said, his jaw set.
“Half of what we’ve done is wandering around in nowhere. When are you going to teach us to shoot something other than a target? There’s war out there past the borders. There’s death out there. I want to be ready. We need to be able to survive.”
Whiskey leaned in towards him. “I AM teaching you how to survive. You just ain’t listenin’. You survive by being quiet. By never being found. By knowing when to shoot and when not to. By being smart. You think you can do that?”
Edgar moved up next to Vicks, thumping him on the chest. “Come on.”
Whiskey turned away. Taylor’s hair waved around her wry smile in the breeze. Whiskey breathed deep, looking at her. They gotta learn somehow.
“Remember… honey, not vinegar.” She said, pulling stray hairs out of the corner of her mouth.
“I’m all outta honey right about now.”
“We’ll get the next one. These islands are all wildlife now.”
“If these kids keep shootin’ first we’ll starve to death,” Whiskey grumbled.


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