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In the Shadow of the Truth
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: From In the Shadow of a Vow Novella When Tomas returned from the barn that afternoon, the sound of his boots on the floor captured her attention as she stood at the kitchen counter he’d made for her. His form in the doorway—wide and encompassing—was at first a buoying relief then a crushing disappointment. She’d failed him. He stalled, assessing, his eyes dragging along the countertop where she stood amidst a haphazard wreck of herbs—her supplies for making tinctures and medicines she took on calls and sold at the market. “Did you mean to leave all your tools in the garden?” he asked. There wasn’t any accusation in his tone, only curiosity. “And the laundry undone in the wash basin?” When she didn’t answer—because she couldn’t seem to align the words with meaning—he asked, “What’s going on here?” Scarlett looked down at the mess she’d made, opened her mouth to tell him what she was doing, but her mind went blank. She couldn’t remember what she’d been doing. She didn’t know what she was doing anymore. The longer she looked at the greens, the pestle and mortar, the boiling pot, the less sense any of the disarray made. “It’s chaos, Scar,” he said quietly next to her. “Unlike you.” She looked up from the mess to his face, to his kind eyes shaped with concern. Scar. She’d always loved the way he shortened her name, the only one who ever did. Then without warning, she burst into tears, pressing the towel in her hands against her face as her grief, pain, worry, regret, disappointment wrenched out of her with horrific gasp. She’d ruined everything. Tomas gathered her into his arms with soothing sounds. “Hush,” he whispered, his wide, heavy hand on the back of her head. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, grasping hold of his shirt, her face pressed into the strength of his chest. He held her. “They’re gone,” she sobbed. “I failed.” His arms squeezed her a touch tighter, and when his face pressed into the place between her neck and shoulder, Scarlett wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing up onto her toes, needing to be closer to his comfort. “I failed too,” he whispered, his lips against her skin. “We both have.” She shook her head. “Not you, Tomas.” She drew back to look at him. Raising his head, his eyes connected with hers, the sadness a deep, evergreen forest swirling inside them where he was lost. And it was her fault. She knew this. Had pushed him to go against his nature by keeping her secrets, securing the spells. Unsure about anything but the tumult of emotions she couldn’t seem to harness, Scarlett reached for comfort she knew he provided, a comfort she could reciprocate. She kissed him, her hands framing his face, his beard soft against her palms. He froze, tension tightening his shoulders. And she thought he might pull away, but suddenly he was kissing her back, capitulating, needing, seeking. His tongue sought entrance, and she granted it. It was hungry, two souls on the periphery of starvation, finding one another in the darkness. 
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