Reseda Juarez is dead. Though she functions as a human, inside she’s an emotionless weapon, trapped between the living and the undead. Cold and unrelenting, she’s used as a super-soldier by the government in a special task force to hunt preternatural beings to the brink of extinction.
One night, five years ago, Kane killed an innocent and his brother lost the love of his life. The aftermath forces Kane to become the alpha of the legendary Thunderbirds. He now must protect what’s left of his family from the tribe of wolf shifters who ripped them apart.
When Reseda’s mother is bitten by a wolf, she and Kane are forced to work together to find the Mayan Pul Yah stone to heal her—the same stone that gifted Reseda to the life she now lives. But the journey is riddled with more than wolves, also searching for the stone. Something strange happens to their powers when they’re together, and they struggle to fight the intense attraction between them. The deeper they go, the more secrets unravel, until love is the only thing that can defeat an enemy no one saw coming.
The trees no longer talked to Kane. Songs that once whistled on the wind had disappeared. When a heart hardens, the windows of the soul shut, blocking any whispers with intent to reopen it. The elder spirits shunned him now, bringing forth more than his own personal punishment, and Kane had to live with that for the rest of his life.
Her screams still shook him. They used to only haunt his sleep. Now they echoed in his ears while awake, the torment of an innocent death ever-present to remind him that he was a killer. A monster.
Who’s to say he was any better than those who he tried to save her from? He should have saved her from himself. No matter the circumstances, a life had been extinguished by his hands. A life so young that should have been lived to its fullest, but she never got that chance because of him. Though the Great Spirits no longer spoke to Kane, they reminded him of it every day.
Golden eyes glinted in the moonlight, surrounding the bases of the towering redwoods. A pungent odor hung heavy in the air, covering the scent of the rain and peat moss.
Those fucking wolves again.
Every night they encroached further upon the reservation. Once friends of the Nuu-Chah-Nulth tribe, the wolves preferred power over peace, breaking the centuries-long pact between their tribes. Because of them, Kane’s tattoos activated. Because of them, he now protected the reservation.
Kane clenched a fist at his side, sending a pulsating tremor the length of his long arms. The throbbing of his veins echoed the thunder in his heart.
Another scent hit him, and he stumbled back a step. Adrenaline. Underneath it, the distinctive smell of a female. His nose twitched as he circled to pick up the direction it came from.
“I smell it, too.” Nodin flanked Kane’s side along with Tag. The same stark tribal tattoos marked each of their arms and chests.
“I also smell wet-dog.” Cupping his mouth, Tag stood into the wind and barked out a whimper, antagonizing the beasts.
“You two play with the pups. I’ll track the human.” Kane pointed to the edge of the tree line. “Maybe toss them a stick.” Shock waves rumbled the ground beneath their feet as Kane curled long fingers into his palm. Roots burst from the Earth and snapped through the air like whips.
The once bright glowing eyes dimmed, narrowing into blurred golden discs that faded into the darkness.
“Bunch of pussies.” Tag flicked them a finger. “I’ll take the south side.”
“I’ll do the north,” Nodin said.
“I’ll circle through the middle.” Kane eyed the tree line until the blanket of darkness swallowed the last of the fading yellow orbs. “We’ll meet back at the longhouse in an hour.”
The two nodded, sprinting off in opposite directions. Kane swept the outlying area, sniffing the air for another whiff of the woman. He weaved in and out of the trees, the scent intensifying with each breath he sucked deep into his lungs. Adrenaline and sweat buried the aroma. He kicked up speed.
She was in trouble.
She was running.
Dropping to his knees, moonlight bathed his skin as he faced skyward and pressed his eyes closed. Jet-black hair draped the slope of his bare back, shooting a tingle over his skin. Dark ink from his tattoos bled up the length of his arms and slithered across his shoulders. With each movement, fire pulsed through his muscles, breathing life into his skin. A silvery-blue glow lit the edges of the markings as they spread further over his body. The tattoos interlocked, connecting to form the image of a tribal bird that shot from his chest. Glowing a brilliant blue, the apparition soared high above the treetops, scouring the area for any sign of the woman.
Each swoop and soar drained his energy. Fighting through the pain, he spotted a figure darting through the trees. The spirit-bird folded its wings around itself and retracted to Kane’s chest. His eyes jolted open as he sucked in a gasping breath that sliced through his lungs like a razor. The ink slithered back from the center of his chest, and the tattoo returned to its original black markings along his arms.
A rush of energy flooded his limbs and he bolted from the ground, dashing among the trees to get to her in time. The drumming of her speeding heart syncopated with the pounding of the werewolf paws hitting the dirt.
“Keep running,” Kane whispered.
The woman tossed a glance over her shoulder and tripped over a root, face-planting onto the forest floor. A plume of leaves and needles clouded the air around her. Snarls and growls pierced Kane’s ears, drowning out the screams coming from the injured female. Four wolves lunged at her from all sides.
Kane curled his fists, diving headfirst for her. The silvery-blue hue lit the tattoos on his arms as they elongated into wings. Silver and white feathers covered his body, dancing as a rush of air rustled through them. Chunks of peat moss, leaves, and needles kicked up behind his dragging feet contorting into bony talons. His claws wrapped around the woman’s body as Kane snatched her from the wolves, and ascended high above the treetops, leaving the wolves leaping into the air, trying to swipe her from his grasp.
“Cover your ears,” Kane demanded, narrowing his jet-black eyes.
The woman’s eyes squinted shut as she managed to nestle only one hand around an ear. Kane didn’t have time to wait. He slammed his wings to his sides. Wind billowed as he raised them back up, and thunder roared as he forced them back down once more. Storm clouds rolled across the sky, and a strike of lightning flashed in front of them. Kane veered to the right, dive-bombing the wolves below. He swooshed back up as a bolt of lightning struck the ground, singing their paws. Whimpers and moans trailed their exodus from the woods.
Kane soared over the remaining treetops until the longhouse came into view. Slowing his speed, he eased their altitude and tossed the woman to the ground. She rolled into a tumble as she landed in the grass still wet from the earlier rains. As Kane’s talons touched the Earth they retracted into human feet, and his body soon followed. The woman stared at him, almost with recognition in her eyes as a smile braced her lips. “Thank you.”
Wren hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But a cowboy swept her off her feet and carried her to Texas, where she promptly lost all tolerance for cold and snow. Fueled by coffee, dreams, and men in kilts, Wren promises to bring you laughter, heart-fluttering romance, and action that keeps you on the edge of your seat.
An avid reader as a child, her love for all things written waned into adulthood, the excitement of real life things taking over. But when her life slowed down as she finished her office job for maternity leave, her husband purchased her an e-reader, and that obsession was rekindled.
Quickly she went from reader to reviewer, and then from reviewer to blogger; street teams and promo tours galore. When she began collating her own book boxes over at Romance Readers Book Box UK and had the opportunity to include her own words and worlds, the characters began talking.
Those cheeky characters quickly found themselves written down on the page, and her first series was in progress.
When she is not coordinating her worlds, you can find her running around after her free-spirited three children, and husband, or tending to the dogs, bearded dragons, and snakes that also reside with them.
A break can be found soaking in a bubble bath or enjoying a glass of wine, often still with a book in her hand.
A family seek refuge in the Australian outback as tyranny takes hold, but who can they trust?
The world is at war and an authoritarian government has taken control in Australia. A terrorist group known as Day One is attempting to destroy civilisation so humanity can start again.
Shareen Miller becomes caught in a bureaucratic nightmare when she’s detained by an Auto-Enforcer for not having the right travel permit on the way to a job interview. Shareen’s detention sets off a chain of events that leads to her five-year-old twins being taken by the government.
With her husband Daniel, grandmother Alma, and sister Layla, Shareen seizes her children and escapes from Sydney. On the road, she reveals a secret about her missing mother Veronica that she’s been hiding from her family for five years.
What follows is an intense journey into the harsh Australian outback where nothing is as it seems, and no one can be trusted.
As they fight for survival, Veronica’s family finally learn the truth about why she left them. The stakes couldn’t be higher as the future of humanity hangs in the balance.
The early morning light hurt her eyes, but the air was fresh, and it was a relief to escape from the dream. Ben was burrowed into his sleeping bag, while Phoebe hung over the edge of her bed. Daniel had his pillow crammed around his ears.
Omniscience was as desolate as the previous day, and the dream clung to the edges of her mind, leaving a strange, lingering feeling of unease that was different to the familiar panic she’d been carrying since they left Sydney. As she got to her feet and picked up the sleeping bag to shake it out, there was a flash of movement near the ute. Shareen dropped the sleeping bag and stared. When nothing else happened, she slipped her runners on to investigate. If it was a snake, everyone would soon know about it.
Her first thought when she saw what appeared to be a child dressed in a white sheet standing behind the ute was that she was still dreaming. The figure had its back to her, and matted hair hung to its waist. Shareen tried to say something, but her jaw was locked, and her legs were anchored to the ground. She could only watch in fascinated horror as the figure slowly turned around. The face that looked back at her was not that of a child but a woman. It wasn’t Veronica. This woman was too old. She had milky eyes and a gnarled body like an ancient tree. Her filthy smock dress looked like something a cult member would wear.
The woman stepped towards her, and Shareen stumbled backwards, but her throat was still paralysed. She couldn’t take her eyes off the woman’s face.
“What the hell?” Daniel was beside her in a second, grasping her arm. “Are you OK?”
Before she could answer, Phoebe let out a shriek, followed closely by Ben, and then Layla.
“Oh, my,” said Alma.
“Stay where you are,” said Daniel. “No one move. Has she said anything?”
“No, I just woke up and she was here,” said Shareen.
“Is it our grandmother?” said Phoebe.
“Daddy, is it a witch? Is she going to hurt us?” sobbed Ben.
“She’s not your grandmother and she’s not a witch,” Shareen said in the calmest voice she could muster. “We don’t know who she is yet.”
The woman’s face cracked into a toothless smile, and she raised her arms and started moving on the spot in a bizarre dance as she hummed to herself. She looked deranged.
“Who are you?” Daniel took a step closer, and Shareen glanced behind to make sure Layla was with the twins.
The woman didn’t reply, but she stopped moving and stared at them.
“Do you live here?” he asked.
Her face grew serious as she considered the question. “This is my home. The spirits don’t want you here.”
“We’re looking for Veronica. Do you know her?” said Shareen. She watched intently for any sign of recognition. There was the barest flicker in her eyes.
“All the seeing ones are gone,” she said sadly. “In the ground now.” The comment would have unsettled her at any time, but after her dream, it was chilling.
The woman squatted on her haunches and hummed to herself.
“What do you mean, in the ground? What happened to Veronica?” Shareen pressed.
She looked up again and seemed surprised to see them still there. “Gone,” she said in a wistful voice. “Long time now.”
Did she mean that Veronica and all the others were dead, and all that was left of the cult were these crumbling buildings?
Daniel moved closer and crouched down beside her. “What’s your name?”
“Ni.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Forever.”
“Does anyone else live here with you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”
“Where did they go?”
“I told you,” she said in a sharper voice. Her eyes bore into him for a moment before her face relaxed into a dreamy expression again.
“Okay, thank you for answering our questions.” He stood up. “I think she’s harmless,” he said under his breath. “Crazy as a cut snake, but she won’t hurt us. I wonder how long she’s been out here on her own for.”
“What does she mean, that they’re under the ground? Do you think Veronica could be…dead?” It was hard to say out loud.
“I don’t think she knows what’s going on. You can’t trust anything she says.”
The woman suddenly pointed towards the road they’d come in on and her face was angry. “You must leave. Leave now. Go. Go. Go.” She stabbed her finger at the sky.
“Please calm down, Ni. We won’t cause you any harm,” said Daniel.
Janine Frances lives in Australia with her partner David and dog Banjo.
The journey to publishing her novel Omniscience has been a long one. After doing the nine-to-five grind in Sydney for many years, with a couple of stints as a high school teacher and bank teller in the outback, she is currently relishing the freedom that comes with living in a picturesque small town and working from home.
Janine has an MA in Creative Writing. She chose to write a speculative thriller because it’s an exciting genre that asks important questions about the future.
