Lonely No More and Silence No More are both live on Amazon! Currently, I am working on the next two projects in the series. One book, Poor No More, is Finn and Amir’s story. Below is an excerpt from Vanity No More, where Chris LaRue exposes a few of Sanctuary’s dark secrets.
I never expected to be standing in Sanctuary’s city hall, digging through historical records one page at a time. I knew I had seen it years ago, but needed to make sure now. There was no way I could mention any of this to Casey or Aries or…him unless I knew I was right. This was never supposed to happen. I licked my lips, my mouth too dry. None of this was supposed to happen. A faint little flutter seemed to tap from inside my flat stomach. That one had to be a hallucination, wishful thinking, because it was too early to be anything else. Still, my right hand dropped automatically to my abdomen. “We’re okay,” I whispered to the quiet room of city council meeting archives. The past was piled all around me and the future was a soft flutter that was more in my mind than anything else. How had all this gone so wrong?
The pages between my fingers were growing more and more fragile. Soon, very soon, all of this would be converted to digital format, the shame of every omega in Sanctuary maintained for posterity and historical record. Some people just couldn’t let things go. That was what had started all of this, generations ago, and we were trying to clean up the mess. I felt another flutter, my fingers stroking my stomach in response. So close… The future and the past were merging in this moment, brushing against one another, and I was here connecting them. Most people in Sanctuary had forgotten how it all started, where we were when we came to this place. It was time to wake them up. A wave of nausea tried to claim me – I probably should have eaten breakfast – and I forced it back. There, on the thin yellowed paper, were the names I knew I would find.
‘Sanctuary, Texas founders’ was the heading. Name after name was listed on the half sheet, like it had been written as an afterthought and in a hurry. Most of them were set in alpha and omega pairs. Even when we were founding this place, designation had mattered. Near the bottom of the page,
Barnabas LaRue, alpha – died 1856, suspected murder victim
William Franklin, omega – exiled 1856, murdered his alpha
Why the fuck had I ever come back here? Why was I the only one who remembered this shit? What could I do now that I knew I was right? I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. Omega’s Den needed me. My brother and my nieces needed me. As different as the world outside of Sanctuary was, I couldn’t go out there and expect to return home. I snapped a picture on my phone, still not sure what I was going to tell the man I loved. All I knew in this moment was that if history wanted to repeat itself, it needed to happen without me. Sanctuary was poison and our families had planted the bad seed.