Hello Readers!

A happy weekend to all of you! Fel and I are thrilled to announce that Griffin, the third book in our Pecan Pines series, will be releasing soon!

This next installment focuses on Michael and Griffin’s story. If you enjoyed Sawyer, which we released back in October, we’re confident you’ll love Griffin just as much—if not more.

As an enforcer for his pack, Griffin knows how to handle trouble. But when he takes a much-needed break to attend a gaming convention, the last thing he expects is to be thrust into a dangerous situation. While cutting through a park on his way to dinner, he spots someone familiar—Michael, a popular streamer Griffin has secretly admired. Only this time, Michael isn’t surrounded by adoring fans—he’s running for his life.

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

Here's a little sneak preview of the first chapter~

Chapter One

MICHAEL

Left. Right. Forward attack, dodge. I just needed to reposition myself for the final blow against the monster on the screen. My fingers flew over the controller as my avatar executed each move in real time on the oversized display. 

The crowd’s energy was palpable, their eyes locked on the screen as the game neared its climax. I was at a booth in the Cinderfield City Gaming Convention, trying out a new action RPG as part of a live game demo. 

To my left, Maggie, the company rep, sat with a bright smile, narrating the action for the onlookers, highlighting game mechanics I was barely managing to keep up with. 

Her polished, upbeat commentary only added to the pressure—reminding me just how closely everyone was watching my every move.

At the far end of the booth, away from the camera’s view, Todd scrolled through his phone, likely double-checking my schedule for the rest of the day. 

Todd wasn't just my manager; he was also my assistant, editor, and the guy who could tell, just by the way I held my shoulders, when I was running on fumes. 

Today, I was especially grateful to have him here. Behind the camera, the audio crew fiddled with their equipment—one adjusted a wire while another pulled a sandwich from the catering box. My stomach growled at the sight, breaking my focus for just a second. And that was all it took.

I missed the final button input, and my character staggered. The monster on screen seized the moment, unleashing a brutal counterattack that drained the last of my health bar. 

The Game Over screen flashed before I could even react, followed by the end-game screen for the live demonstration.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I glanced at Todd, who looked up with a slight frown. He caught my eye and lifted the corners of his mouth with his fingers, pulling a goofy “smile”, reminding me to stay cool.

Right. Keep smiling. We were still live. I took a deep breath, forcing myself not to panic. 

There were dozens of people watching outside the booth and probably thousands more online. I managed a laugh and turned to Maggie, who quickly filled the silence.

“Well, that was a tough break at the end there!” she said brightly. “What happened, Michael? Looked like you had that monster right where you wanted it.”

I chuckled, trying to seem casual. “Yeah, it was close. It happens, especially with a new game like this. But honestly, that’s what makes it exciting. The combat system keeps you on your toes, and I’m really looking forward to playing more when it comes out.”

Maggie nodded, flashing her megawatt smile at the camera. “Well, there you have it, folks! Keep an eye out for Shadowfall: Requiem, coming next summer. And if you’re here at the Cinderfield City Gaming Convention, make sure to stop by our booth. We’ll be here until Sunday!”

I gave the camera a final wave and nod before Maggie signaled the end of the recording.

“Cut! That’s a wrap!” a voice called out, and I let out a long sigh of relief, just barely covering the growl of my stomach again.

One of the audio guys unhooked the mic from my shirt, and I shuffled over to Todd, feeling a fresh wave of fatigue settle in. The crowd had only grown, filling the air with the constant buzz of conversation.

I put my hand out, expecting to feel the cool, hard metal of my phone, which Todd was supposed to hand me. I was already planning to check the schedule to figure out which booth I needed to visit for the next gameplay session.

Instead, my fingers closed around something warm, heavy, and a little soggy, with the faint smell of cured meat and mustard. I looked down to find a half-wrapped sandwich roll in my hand. I blinked, surprised, then grinned. 

“You’re a lifesaver!” The words came out louder than I intended, and a few of the nearby crew glanced over. But I didn’t care. After two days of surviving on caffeine and energy bars, this was the closest thing I’d had to real food.

Todd laughed, trying to keep his expression neutral. “I heard your stomach growling all the way from over here.”

I paused halfway through unwrapping the sandwich, glancing at the distance between us earlier. He’d been at least twelve feet away—not exactly close enough to hear my stomach growl. 

I raised an eyebrow, a skeptical look crossing my face. “Seriously? You heard that?”

Todd laughed harder. “I was kidding! Jeez, Michael, you take things way too seriously when you’re hungry.” He shook his head. “I’m with you practically 24/7, remember? I knew you’d be starving. You haven’t eaten anything since this morning!”

“Oh, right.” I chuckled, feeling a bit silly for letting myself get so worked up. 

I must’ve been even more drained than I thought. Or maybe just on edge from this weird tension that had been gnawing at me since we’d arrived two days ago. Something about being here just didn’t sit right.

Todd’s smile faded a bit, and he seemed like he was about to say something when, out of nowhere, the half-unwrapped sandwich was snatched right out of my hands.

“What the hell?” I shouted. I usually kept my cool in public, but hunger and frustration had finally caught up with me.

I spun around, ready to give the sandwich thief a piece of my mind, but the curse on the tip of my tongue stopped short. It was Shawn. Fellow streamer. Grade-A asshole. He took a massive bite out of my sandwich and grinned as he chewed, eyes gleaming with his trademark smugness.

Todd stepped in quickly. “It’s the crew’s dinner break, but Shawn was only supposed to show up half an hour from now.” 

His tone was apologetic; I could tell he’d been doing his best to keep Shawn and me from crossing paths. I wanted to tell Todd it was fine, that I knew he’d done his best to avoid this exact scenario. 

He would’ve gotten me out of here if he could. But the words wouldn’t come. I just stood there, staring at Shawn as he took another bite, my sandwich slowly disappearing right before my eyes.

I stepped forward, ready to snatch my sandwich back or, better yet, smash it in his face. Before I could do anything, though, Shawn suddenly draped the arm holding the sandwich around my shoulder, pulling me close. 

His other hand shot up for a thumbs-up just as a camera flash went off, blinding me. I blinked a few times, disoriented by the sudden burst of light. When my vision cleared, a phone camera was practically shoved in our faces.

Shawn, already mid-sentence, kept up his act for the camera. “And we’re both so excited to play this game. Hey, maybe we’ll even stream together on release day, huh? What do you say, Michael? Just like old times?” 

He turned to look at me, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. Forcing a smile at the phone’s lens, I felt something cold and sticky drip onto my shoulder. Mustard. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“Sure, can’t wait,” I managed, my teeth grinding as I forced my face to stay neutral.

Shawn gave another exaggerated thumbs-up, and the person filming—Shawn’s assistant—finally lowered their phone. 

“Did you get that?” Shawn asked, glancing at his assistant with a satisfied grin. “Make sure to tag him when you post the video,” he added, jerking his thumb in my direction.

I rolled my eyes. No surprises there. We both knew I had the bigger following, and being linked to me in any way could only boost his views. It was always the same with him—latching onto my popularity for a quick bit of clout.

While Shawn fiddled with his phone, probably checking the video, I grabbed Todd by the arm and marched out of the booth, not bothering to look back. My mood sank deeper with each step, anger simmering beneath the surface, feeding off the memory of Shawn’s smug grin. 

As we reached the center of the convention hall, the crowds seemed to swell around me, the noise intensifying. 

Before I could spiral further, Todd took the lead, guiding me down a quieter path toward a back exit, only accessible to staff and official guests of the event. 

The hallway beyond was deserted, the faint smell of industrial cleaner lingering in the air, trying but failing to mask the stale scent of sweat and bodies from the main hall. 

The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, but even in their glare, I felt the most relaxed I’d been since we arrived.

“Here,” Todd said, his voice breaking through the haze in my mind. 

I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes until I opened them to see him holding out a wet tissue. I glanced at him, puzzled.

“Wouldn’t want people confusing you with the concession stand,” Todd teased, nodding at the mustard stain on my shoulder.

Ugh.

“Thanks,” I muttered, snatching the tissue and scrubbing at the stain.

No matter how much I scrubbed, the stain seemed to sink deeper into the fabric. Frustration welled up inside me. 

I knew it wasn’t just about the mustard, or my hunger, or even the convention. This feeling had been brewing for months—ever since I’d received that private message from one of my fans after streaming a game.

“I can’t wait to finally meet you at GamesCon.”

They’d been a longtime follower, one of the first, even. Back when I was still a nobody, they’d kept up with every move in my career. 

At first, it seemed harmless—just the usual comments. But over the past year, their messages started to change, getting way too personal.

It wasn’t just “Great stream!” anymore. Now, it was things like, “I knew you’d pick that character,” or, “I noticed you were tired—hope you’re getting enough rest.” 

Even more disturbing were the times they brought up small, almost private details. Once, I mentioned offhand that sea salt chips were my favorite snack. 

Months later, they’d sent a message: “I saw you had your usual snack after that tough stream. Guess you were craving those sea salt chips again, huh?” Or the time they commented, “I love when you brush your hair back like that when you’re stressed. It’s so you.”

The messages had started to feel like a shadow—something constantly lurking just out of sight, knowing more about me than I’d ever willingly shared. And then finally, there was that message I had gotten a few months ago.“I can’t wait to finally meet you at GamesCon.”

Since stepping into the hall on day one, I hadn’t been able to shake the uneasy feeling. I kept wondering if they had already approached me. Had they been one of the dozens who’d asked for pictures? Or worse—were they just lurking, watching from a distance?

For a moment back there, I’d even wondered if it had been Shawn all along. Honestly, that would’ve been a relief. With him, it would have just been a prank. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t Shawn. I had absolutely no idea who they were or where they were now.

I scrubbed harder at the mustard stain, almost like I could scrub away the nerves too. But the mark only seemed to spread, as did the tight knot in my chest. I let out a breath, trying to calm myself, before glancing over at Todd.

“Do I still have anything on for tonight?” I asked, my voice a little strained.

Todd scrolled through his phone. “Just a party with some other gamers. Some networking thing.”

I must’ve made a face because Todd quickly added, “But I’m sure I can get you out of it.” I exhaled, grateful for Todd’s support. Honestly, I didn’t know what I’d do without him. “Thanks.”

Todd glanced at me, his eyes knowing. “Still worried they’re here?”

“Who?” I tried to sound casual.

“Your stalker,” he replied, not missing a beat.

I wasn’t surprised Todd knew exactly what I was thinking. We’d known each other for years, best friends since college. 

He’d been there from the start, helping me when I first began streaming video games, and then became my official manager when my channel took off a little over a year ago. 

It was like he’d hired himself, insisting, “You probably can’t handle this without me.” And honestly, he wasn’t wrong. I shrugged, not wanting to worry him. “Maybe... but I could be overreacting. I don’t think they’re here.” 

I didn’t mention how I’d been on edge for months, ever since that creepy message. I tried to shake it off. “I’m just tired. I need a break, you know? Take a walk, eat something that isn’t filled with sugar. Breathe in air that a thousand other people haven’t already exhaled.”

Todd laughed. “Alright, alright. Where do you want to eat? I think I can still book us a place—”

“No, that’s fine,” I interrupted, unsure how to ask for some space without sounding ungrateful. “Why don’t you take the night off too?”

He hesitated. “But what if the stalker—”

“I can handle it. Don’t worry about me,” I said, forcing a smile. “Like I said, I don’t think they’re here. My spider senses aren’t tingling.”

He gave me a skeptical look. “Well, I am a shifter, you know. You need me around.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you always say you’re just, like, one percent shifter?”

“Yeah, but that’s still one percent more than you,” he retorted, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

It had been a while since I’d laughed like that—loud and genuine. Todd always used that line, his trump card. His grandfather had been a shifter, though the gene hadn’t quite carried on. 

Still, whenever he wanted to lighten the mood, he’d pull out that ‘one percent’ like it was some kind of badge of honor. It was even how he’d convinced me to bring him on as my manager.

“Seriously,” I said, catching my breath. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just grab something quick and head back to my room. I could use an early night.”

Todd pursed his lips, not entirely convinced, but he eventually nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you at breakfast then. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” I promised. “Goodnight.”

As he walked away, I wondered if maybe I relied on Todd a little too much. Not that I minded. He was one of the few people I trusted, and I was glad to have him with me. 

Since I’d gotten more popular, I’d learned the hard way that not everyone had good intentions. It was hard to trust people when so many seemed to only want something from me. They’d act nice to get close, hoping to boost their own streams or gain industry connections. 

I’d had friends—and even boyfriends—who stuck around just long enough to get a foot in the door, only to disappear once they’d gotten what they wanted. Then, when I least expected it, they showed up again, only to steal my sandwich and smear mustard on my shoulder.

I let out a breath, feeling the weight of it all settle over me. I walked outside the convention hall and wandered aimlessly around the nearby park, the gravel crunching underfoot. 

The crowd had thinned out, though I could still hear the distant buzz of conversations and music drifting through the evening air. Eventually, I found a bench and sat down heavily, my shoulders finally relaxing. 

I glanced up at the sky. The sun had already set, but a deep blue hue lingered, blending into the night. It felt strangely calming. A black bird flew overhead and landed on a nearby branch. 

It had a distinctive red tip on its tail feathers and an unusual pattern on its claws—I'd never seen one like it before. Maybe it was rare. When was the last time I’d just sat outside like this, taking in the world around me? 

It felt like I’d been grinding non-stop for years, building my career without ever really taking a break. Maybe it was time. Casey’s offer to visit him in Pecan Pines was starting to sound appealing. 

I’d promised to visit before, but work, responsibilities, or my own restless habits always seemed to get in the way. I’d cancel every time, putting it off for “another time.” This time, though, maybe things would be different. 

It had been so long since we spent any real brother time together. I needed a change. A sudden lightness bloomed in my chest, and I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. A visit to Casey could be exactly what I needed. 

Maybe I could even grab some of those famous Cinderfield donuts on the way—people were raving about the maple bacon glaze and pistachio cream. But wait... The shop had just opened, and there was a ridiculous waitlist. 

People were ordering days, weeks in advance. I’d definitely need to get on that list. Anyway, I’d have to check my schedule first. There were commitments—videos to produce, sponsors to meet, especially with everything lined up after the convention. 

Maybe I could squeeze it in afterward. I’d have to ask Todd; he’d know the schedule. As I stood up, heading back, I realized I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. I squinted, trying to spot any familiar landmarks.

The convention hall was massive, but in the dark, all the surrounding buildings looked the same. 

With dim lighting and no clear landmarks, it was hard to get my bearings. Suddenly, a prickling sensation crawled up the back of my neck. I felt eyes on me. I stopped, straining to listen. Silence. 

Not even a birdcall. Just the faint tapping of footsteps—soft, like someone was trying to stay hidden but closing in. I didn’t know how, but I knew it was them. The stalker. The words from that message flashed through my mind.

“I can’t wait to finally meet you at GamesCon.”

A chill ran down my spine. I took a step backward, then another, and suddenly broke into a run. The tapping quickened behind me, matching my pace. My pulse hammered in my ears, my breath coming in short gasps. I pushed myself to go faster, legs straining, lungs burning.

“Damn it,” I gasped. “I really need to stop sitting on my ass all day.” 

I’d been meaning to get one of those standing desks—or one of those under-desk pedals. What were they called again? But now wasn’t the time to think about it. My mind was scrambling, trying to keep from spiraling into panic. Another set of footsteps echoed closer, louder this time.

“Hey!” a voice called out, closer than I’d expected.

My heart leapt to my throat. Were there two of them? 

I couldn’t see anyone, but the footsteps were unnervingly close. I stumbled, catching my foot on something, and hit the ground hard. 

Pain shot through my hand as I scraped it against the rough concrete, but I didn’t stop. 

I scrambled back to my feet, forcing myself to keep moving. If I made it out of this, I swore I’d start working out again. No excuses. Running, weights, anything. It didn’t matter. But right now, I just needed to keep running.

Pre-order now on Amazon

Griffin will be released on December 26, 2024.

As always, thank you for being part of this journey with us. Your support means the world, and we can’t wait to share Michael and Griffin’s story with you! Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Yours sincerely,

Kara