"He saved her life in secret, but his own secrets could destroy them all..."

Here it is, I can't stand to wait any longer.  Ladies and Gentlemen I give you: the cover for GODSPEED

Completely original artwork; layout and photography by artist Paul Brand, and I couldn't be more thrilled. I gave him a description that I had in my head and he saw the same thing and made it real- and went to a great deal of trouble to do it, too, above and beyond the call. Thank you, Paul, you are the best.

The back cover, which I absolutely LOVE, is every bit as gorgeous as the front...but that one you'll have to wait to see a little bit longer ;~)

And here's the blurb that will go on the sales sites. Have to leave some mystery, after all.

Abigail’s young life was saved by the kindness of strangers: Schuyler Algernon, the man who found her collapsed on cold city streets and Quinn Godspeed, the doctor who risked everything by breaking the law to keep her fragile heart beating.

As the truth about what she’s become and her feelings for her savior overtake her, Abigail is forced to ask what constitutes life, living, and what deeply dark secrets are held within Godspeed’s past and the walls of Schuyler’s house.

I truly could not be happier with the covers, and working with Paul was not only fun but it was so easy. I highly recommend him and his work and will continue to do so as GODSPEED is finally released into the world, hopefully by mid May (I'm striving to release it before my next birthday.)

Here's another small taste of what lies within these covers, hope you enjoy. For those who may not have heard me mention it before, GODSPEED is a literary romance with steampunk embellishments.

Now I was jolted by noises I’d not been expecting. First the scratch and bump of displaced furniture as it scraped the floor and toppled over; then the awkward dance of feet stumbling and rushing on before the dull thud of impact as a body met an unstoppable object with incredible force.

I managed to raise just one eyelid open long enough to see the sight that accompanied the racket.

Quinn had taken hold of Schuyler’s lapels and pressed his back up against the nearest wall. Schuyler’s feet actually elevated off of the floor, even though he was several inches taller than the man who pinned him there.

“If you value what remains of our friendship, Schuyler Algernon, I would suggest you be careful of taking that tone with me,” Quinn growled, and dropped him to the ground. Schuyler righted himself and staggered a lurching step forward.

I returned to the darkness beneath my eyelids as I wondered what it was that had come between them in the past, only to resurface now.

Schuyler’s clothing generated a soft, fluttering swish as he attempted to straighten it. The smallest act, I was certain, to try to show that despite Quinn’s anger he remained in control of his own composure. “If I am in any way to be party to this, I had to be sure.”

“Sure of what?”

“That you know what you’re doing this time.”

“This time!” Quinn roared, and again I startled. His rage set my heart to beating faster than even the shocks of energy he’d sent coursing through it earlier. He’d been so calm, so unaffected so far by anything he’d seen before now, to hear such passionate emotion in his voice stirred something deep within me, so much so I could scarcely bear it.

“You are already a party to this! You brought me into it only after you found this girl cold, wet and dying on the street like an unwanted animal. What was I supposed to do, Schuyler? Tell you no? Let her die?”

He bowed his head; I could tell because his voice became muffled. I pictured his hands moving up, coming together and covering over his beautiful, sculpted face. “I do still believe in the Oath. Even if…” his words were barely a whisper now. “Even if there are those who say that I show no regard for it.”

“The Oath.” Schuyler scoffed. “First do no harm. How do you reconcile…”

“Again I ask, is it better to do nothing?” Silence settled between them for a long moment before he continued. “Do you want to bury her in the morning, Schuyler, or are you going to insist I do that, too?” His voice dropped further still and I only made out half of his next sentence, which ended with the words “ … this time.”

Schuyler stopped speaking. He uttered a sound I could not readily assign emotions to, and then I heard him ask a single question more. “What do you need?”

“I need light, I need mirrors, and I need you to stay the hell out of my way.”

Schuyler’s breathing grew shallow and tremulous. I could have sworn from the forced, faltering control in his voice that it sounded as though he might weep. He strode to the door, unlocked it, and paused.  

          “May the angels guide your hands, and may God have mercy on our souls.” 

          “If angels offered protection this girl would be somewhere far better than here,” Quinn replied. “And if God had mercy, He’d save souls like ours from ever facing a day black as this.”

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