Hello Darlings!

I'm so thankful for each and every one of you. Thank you for taking the time to read my stories, preorder them, share them with your friends, review them...all of that. Being an author is one of my favorite things in the world, and what I really love most is the opportunity to be able to share my stories with you!

This week, I'm going to visit my brother in southern Kansas. It's about a 2-hour drive from where I live, so I'll pop on some music or an audiobook, go spend the day with relatives at his place, and then drive home.

If you have any book recommendations for the drive, email me back and let me know!

I've also been thinking a lot this week about a story I wrote a few years ago called DESTROYED. This is the first in a 4-book alien series (It was supposed to be a trilogy, but then I had to write a Christmas story, too!) and I just really love it.

If you want to check out something new, you can get the first book wherever ebooks are sold or keep reading to enjoy chapter one. :)

The grave in front of me is no longer fresh. The grass has grown over the place where he is buried. It doesn’t seem like enough time has passed for him to be fully, completely gone, but it has. I can’t remember what he smells like anymore. I can’t remember exactly how his voice sounds. It’s been a year. I’m starting to forget, and my heart hurts when I admit that to myself.

What kind of mother am I? Who forgets the way their little boy’s voice sounds?

It shouldn’t be possible. I watched him grow. I was with him every step of the way. I was there when he spoke my name for the first time and for the last time, and all of the times in between. Now I’m forgetting, but I don’t want to.

I want to remember.

Then again, maybe I don’t.

Sometimes remembering is too hard.

I kneel in front of Zack’s grave, and I place my hands on the space where he is buried. A small, tiny plaque holds his name, along with twenty others. There’s not enough room for full burials anymore. Each person is cremated: their ashes carefully lowered into a gravesite. My little boy doesn’t even get his own plot. It’s not like things used to be, long ago. Things are different now.

“Time to go,” a voice pulls me from my thoughts. I shake my head, pleading, but I know it’s no use. Caleb hauls me to my feet and I drop right back down, tears streaming down my face. I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with my little boy. I want to be here with him.

Always.

It’s what a good mother would do.

It’s what I should do.

I should stay. I should stay and let the world pass me by. There’s no one to miss me anymore. There’s no one left to remember me when I’m gone. It was me and Zack. Then it was just me. Why should I get up and leave? I could stay with him for just a little while longer.

I could stay with my little boy.

“Sasha,” Caleb says, more gently this time. “We have to go. We’re going to miss the ship.”

“I don’t care about the ship,” I tell him.

“Well, I do,” he says. “And I don’t want to be on this planet when it blows up. Let’s go.”

That’s what it’s come down to.

The planet we live on is in the midst of a war. It’s always been impossible for Cravenloua and Dreagle to get along, but now there’s no reason to stay. Word on the street is that we’re losing the war. I know that if we don’t leave now, we’re going to die.

I don’t want to die.

I know my cousin doesn’t, either.

“I know you miss him,” Caleb says finally.

“More than anything,” I choke out.

“He wouldn’t want you to die, Sasha.”

“No,” I agree, shaking my head. “He wouldn’t.”

“We have to go.”

I stare at my baby boy’s grave for one more minute, wishing above all else that he was coming with me. The time since he left me has been slow and impossible. Each minute, I have to remind myself how to breathe, how to think, how to be.

And now I’m running away again.

This time, it’s permanent.

This time, it’s for good.

This time, I’m going to get a fresh start.

For real.

I don’t care about fresh. I don’t care about starting again. Caleb keeps telling me that I need this, that it will be good for me. The only thing I can focus on right now is taking things one minute at a time. One step at a time. There are days when the pain is so strong, so palpable, that it takes everything I have just to keep breathing. I force myself to eat, to drink, and to move my body. Sometimes I think I should have killed myself when I lost Zack.

Sometimes I think it would have been easier than living without him.

Caleb takes my hand and we run. We move swiftly through the apocalyptic world around us. On the surface, Cravenloua is still looks alive. Not every village has been ravaged by the war. In some places, Martians and dragons have come for the citizens. They’ve offered safety and asylum on their planets. Not here, though. Not in my home. Although there’s no fighting near our little town, every citizen has felt the impact of the war. We’ve all felt the hunger, noticed the lack of supplies, and seen the dwindling populations as citizens go to fight. There’s a stillness in the air now that I can’t quite explain. There’s something that hangs over us, reminding us that even in places that are not defined as war zones, the world is ending. It is going to die.

We weren’t supposed to know that Cravenloua would be destroyed. The rest of the village doesn’t know. They still think we’re getting help from the other planets in our universe. People walk down the street and they think sure, we’re at war, but they don’t realize just how bad things have gotten. They still cling to hope. They look past all of the signs because they want to believe that things will get better.

This time, I don’t think they’re going to.

The town we live in is small and isolated: hundreds of miles from the nearest big city, which is why our food and water is delivered by airship. The soldiers who are on Cravenloua have come from many different planets to help us. There are Sapphirans. There are Mirroeans. There are even a couple of Earthborn humans, if rumor serves to be correct.

Last night, Caleb and I were in the right place at the right time to overhear some of the Sapphiran soldiers talking about how they shouldn’t have bothered with the food delivery since the planet is going to be destroyed in

just a few hours.“Let them have one last good meal,” the taller soldier said. He was more than seven feet high: probably closer to eight feel. The other man shook his head.

“It’s a waste of resources. This food could be used for other planets. You know, places that are going to be around for awhile. Or have you forgotten that the world exists beyond Dreagle and Cravenloua?”

“Don’t be a complete asshole, Red.” the first man said. “We came here to be kind. We came here to show goodness and compassion to people in need. These citizens didn’t ask to be born on a dead planet. They didn’t ask to be from a place that is going to be lost to the wars of Dreagle.”

“You wish you could save them,” the second man said thoughtfully.

“Isn’t that the entire point of us coming here?” The first man furrowed his brow. “We should have worried less about bringing food and more about helping the citizens escape. There are hundreds of other planets. They could have found refuge. They could have continued living. Now it’s too late for any of that.”

The second man reached out and touched his companion’s shoulder. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “When the sun rises, it will all be over.”

The first man nodded. “What time do we leave?”

“0800,” his friend said. “That will give us enough time to get out of the blast radius.”

“I wish we could save them all.”

“Me too, my friend. Me too.”

My feet hit the ground as I run, keeping up with Caleb’s grueling pace. He was kind enough to bring me to say goodbye to Zack for the last time. Now I try not to replay last night’s conversation over and over again. The soldiers knew the planet would be destroyed. They still brought us food and supplies one last time. The attitude of our city is somber now, though. On some level, I think people realize that the war is going to end soon.Maybe they just don’t realize it’s not going to end in the way we want it to.

“How much longer?” I manage to get out. My chest feels tight and it’s hard to breathe. I’m out of shape. It’s been months since I ran: maybe longer. “Do we have enough time?”

“We’ll make it,” Caleb says. “Just run.”

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

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