Hello Readers!

Happy Sunday, everyone! Fel and I are thrilled to share that Devon, the eighth book in our Pecan Pines series, is almost here! If you fell in love with Ethan and Dean’s story, we can’t wait for you to meet Devon and Carter. 💙

He’s a healer who needs a break. He’s an alpha trying to rebuild a broken pack. When fate throws them together, sparks ignite…

Devon’s whole life has been about responsibility. Between his duties as Pecan Pines’ healer and caring for his dying father in the mountains, he hasn’t had a moment to breathe or imagine a future for himself. When he overhears reckless young wolves from the Thornebane pack plotting to kidnap him, Devon does something shocking. He lets them.

We can't wait for you to read their story! If you haven't pre-ordered yet, you can check it out here.

Just a few more days until release day on October 30, 2025! Until then, here’s a little sneak preview of the first chapter~

Chapter One

Devon

Mom’s hug had been almost suffocating. She clung to me like she didn’t want to let go, her voice soft but insistent as she repeated the same words over and over. 

“Thank you again for coming, Devon. You don’t know how much it means to your father and me.”

The smart-ass part of me wanted to fire back. If you knew how much trouble this has caused with my pack and the clinic, and how close Ethan came to walking away because I couldn’t give him the time he needed, you’d be talking some sense into Dad instead of thanking me.

But I didn’t say it. I couldn’t. Not when I looked at her face, at the exhaustion etched into her features, the way gratitude softened her eyes even though I knew she was running herself ragged. So instead, I swallowed it down and gave her the only thing I could manage. 

“I’ll see you again next week.”

Now, back in the car, the silence pressed in on me. The hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of tires against asphalt only reminded me how long this stretch of road had become. 

Back and forth between here and Pecan Pines, every damn week. It was wearing me down in ways I didn’t want to admit.

I couldn’t keep up like this. Splitting myself in half meant I wasn’t doing my job as a healer the way I should. I couldn’t keep proper records. I couldn’t be fully present for my patients. I couldn’t give Ethan, who was still finding his footing as the new head healer, the mentorship he deserved. And the clinic didn’t stop needing me just because my parents were stuck in limbo. 

My whole life felt like it was held together with duct tape and stubborn willpower, and I was the one fraying at the seams. At a red light, I leaned back in my seat and scrubbed a hand over my face.

No. Mom wasn’t the one who needed convincing. She’d already agreed that moving was the right thing, long before this endless commute began. 

She just didn’t want to push Dad or risk making him dig in his heels even more and refuse to move. The real battle was still waiting for me, and it had my father’s name written all over it.

The traffic light flipped green, but I barely noticed. My eyes had drifted to the phone on the dash mount, screen dark except for the picture I’d set as the background.

A lake. Bright blue water glinting under a summer sun, the edges blurred with green trees and a strip of pale sand. It wasn’t even a real photo I’d taken, just some stock image I’d grabbed off the internet one night when I couldn’t sleep. 

And yet, whenever I looked at it, the tightness in my chest eased just enough to trick me into thinking I could breathe again. It was stupid, really. But lately, when the stress crept in, when the weight of family, the clinic, the endless back-and-forth became too much, all it took was that photo. One glance, and my mind went blessedly blank.

Loud ringing cut through the quiet, and the screensaver vanished, replaced by the second most annoying face in the world. I frowned. I would’ve taken a call from my lead alpha complaining about the clinic budget I sent him rather than this. I swiped to answer, and before I could speak, a voice exploded into the car.

“You damn bastard! I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me!”

“Hello to you too, Mark,” I muttered.

“Weren’t we supposed to meet up at home before going back to Pecan Pines together?” Mark’s outrage could’ve rattled windows. “I can’t tell them on my own! You know they only listen to you!”

If only. I’d tried, more than once, to convince Dad to move out of that house. Every time, it ended the same way: him shouting, me being ordered never to step foot on the land again. I only came back when Mom begged when his health got worse and she couldn’t manage things alone.

Even with both of us, though, it wouldn’t have worked today. Dad was in no shape for another argument, and Mom didn’t need more stress piled on top of everything she was already carrying.

“There was, uh, an emergency at the clinic,” I said smoothly. “Let’s just do it another time.”

Mark snorted loud enough to carry through the speaker. That was all the confirmation I needed about how much he bought the excuse. But fine. Mark could roll his eyes from miles away. I wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Just make sure to wait up for me,” he said. “I’ve got to give Cooper my report, then we’ll talk. We need to restrategize.”

“Mmm,” I muttered, ending the call.

We’d been at it for months, going over the same ideas again and again, but I hadn’t said no because I knew Mark was trying his best. He was the only brother actually stepping up, unlike Levi, Dane, and even Chris, who all had their own lives and excuses. Mark was willing to take a leap, to see what moving to Pecan Pines might mean.

Thing was, I wasn’t in the mood to strategize anymore. Not to play the dutiful son or the responsible healer either. I was running on fumes. And if I was honest, it wasn’t even a rare feeling anymore. More and more often, all I wanted was to throw the phone out the window, drive until I hit that lake, and lose myself in silence for a week. Maybe longer.

The glow of a gas station sign cut through the darkening road ahead, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Dinner, maybe. Something greasy and hot I could eat in the car. 

And if I was lucky, by the time I rolled back into Pecan Pines, Mark would already be asleep. Maybe our conversation would be off his mind for a while.

Beside the gas station, a car wash blinked with neon arrows. I caught myself wondering how long a wash would actually take. Twenty? Thirty minutes, if I was lucky. Long enough to give me a little breathing room before heading back. 

My car wasn’t filthy, but it could always use a rinse. I veered toward the entrance before I could talk myself out of it. The attendant handed me the receipt, and I frowned at it. A little steep for a basic wash, worth it if it bought me more time.

I pushed open the door to the gas station store, the cool blast of air-conditioning washing over me. The place smelled faintly of coffee, rubber, and something fried. I folded the slip between my fingers and hissed when the edge bit into my skin. A thin red line welled on the side of my thumb.

I stuck the finger in my mouth and sucked at it, but the blood still beaded stubbornly. Clicking my tongue, I glanced around. No one seemed to be watching. Sliding my other hand over the cut, I pushed just enough will into it and felt the sting fade as the skin knitted closed.

A small gasp snapped my head up. A boy stood frozen a few feet away, half-hidden by a rack of potato chips. Thin shoulders, messy dark hair, wide eyes. Couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, tops.

I wrinkled my nose. A wolf pup. Which raised the bigger question: whose pup? 

Around here, odds were either Thornebane or Silvercrest. Both close enough to make things complicated. My stomach twisted. I didn’t usually heal in public for a reason. Healers were rare, and packs could get possessive about them. Flashing that kind of ability around was just asking for trouble.

Maybe this was my sign to get out. Head back to Pecan Pines right now. Maybe even sit down with Mark and have that so-called “strategizing” conversation I’d been dodging. But the thought alone made my chest tighten. Stress pressed sharp and heavy against my ribs until I tried to breathe through it.

Picture it, Devon. Lake. Blue sky. Calm water. Clear and endless, so bright you couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the lake began.

Except my brain wouldn’t hold onto it. The moment I tried, my father’s image pushed in. Sick in bed, stubborn fire still in his eyes. Then Mom’s face, lined deeper every week, each visit etching her into someone older than she should be.

I barely registered the sound at first. Low, hurried whispers carried from somewhere deeper in the store. I caught only fragments, but enough to know the voices weren’t talking about potato chips.

“…Healer? Are you sure?” A girl’s voice, high and nervous.

I drifted a few steps closer to the end of the aisle, ears pricked.

“Are you crazy? Maybe we can just ask him,” came a boy’s voice. 

Hesitant. Younger. Was that the same kid who’d caught me healing my cut?

“…Can’t!” the girl hissed. “What if he calls his lead alpha?”

My pulse skipped. If they were looking for a healer, then their pack must not have one. They had to be from Thornebane. I grimaced. That was bad news. The new lead alpha was Carter, if I remembered right. Couldn’t say I remembered much about him, but I could guess. Probably one of those loud, muscle-first, squared-shoulder types. 

Either way, definitely not someone I wanted my name in the mouth of. Best not to get tangled up in Thornebane problems. I told myself I should back away. Instead, I found myself edging one step closer.

“We could bring her here…” the boy whispered nervously.

“No. Mom’s leg looked really bad,” the girl said. “We could just tell him. Ask him to go take a look.”

Damn it. The words lodged somewhere behind my ribs, heavier than they should’ve been. I really should’ve kept walking. Cooper would blow a gasket if he knew I was out here patching up someone else’s pack without clearance.

And yet. The girl’s words lingered in the air. Mom’s knee looked really bad. There was a tug I couldn’t ignore, pulling me somewhere past protocol and responsibility. I couldn’t help thinking of my own mother. The way her shoulders slumped every time I left, the weight she carried alone. I shouldn’t, I knew I shouldn’t, but my hands itched.

I decided to wait. If the kids worked up the courage to approach me, I’d listen. If not, that would be my cue to stick to the original plan: gas up, grab food, and head back to Pecan Pines.

I lingered, dragging my feet through the aisles longer than I needed to. I picked up a bottle of water, browsed the chip section, and pretended to study a magazine cover. 

I scanned the store in the same motion, half-hoping for a “sign,” a glimpse of the kids that would let me justify stepping in. By the time I finally headed to the cashier, the store was empty. No sign of them anywhere.

“Anything else?” the cashier asked, bored.

My gaze flicked to the candy rack by the register. 

“Yeah. These too.” I snagged a couple of chocolate bars, my mind already circling back to what I’d do if they showed up.

I stepped out of the store. The night air hit cooler than I expected. My eyes swept the lot, checking the car wash and the surrounding area. Nothing. And then I felt it. A shift in the air behind me.

Was this it?

Something poked my side. I glanced down. A shaggy brown wolf pup, growling with all the menace he could muster, and a girl, maybe sixteen, mousy brown hair tucked into her hoodie, holding something poking toward me. 

Was it supposed to be a knife? It was probably just a branch or a pen. Still, I straightened my shoulders, trying to look shocked. Though, truth was, the wolf pup was trying so hard to look intimidating that all I wanted to do was crouch down and ruffle his head.

The girl’s voice was low, almost theatrical. “Come with us. Now!”

I paused, taking a slow sniff of the air. Faint algae and sunbaked wood. Lake water, maybe? A small, unexpected incentive.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, curious.

“No questions! You just have to follow us!”

I let a faint smile tug at my lips. I had thought earlier, if they asked, I’d go with them. I supposed this counted.

“All right. I’ll come,” I said.

The girl blinked, surprise flashing across her face before she hardened her expression. “Um… yeah! Go on! That truck over there!”

The pup yipped in agreement and scrambled in front of me, trying his best to seem threatening while tugging my pant leg toward a beaten-down truck parked nearby. I stopped, something from their conversation earlier in the store pricking my memory. 

I jerked a thumb toward the car wash. “Hold on. I need something from my car.”

The girl’s voice shot up in disbelief. “What? No! This is a kidnapping! You can’t just do whatever you want!”

I gave her a patient look. “What’s your name?”

“Uh… Rose.”

“Rose. Listen, if you want me to look at your mom’s leg, I’ll need my healer’s kit,” I said.

She froze. The pup looked up at her, then back at me, both of them suddenly unsure.

I fumbled in the paper bag from the store, finally pulling out a chocolate bar. 

“Here. Eat this, and you can even come with me if you want to make sure I don’t run off. But I really need my kit. It’ll only take a minute,” I said.

Her eyes glimmered, on the verge of tears. I patted her head lightly, gesturing toward the car wash. She pulled her hand from her pocket and took the candy, ready to follow.

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Thank you so much for continuing to be part of the Pecan Pines journey with us. Your support truly means so much. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

With love,

Kara