I am so happy to finally be able to show you guys this cover. This book means so much to me on so many different levels and I’ve already used to many words to write it that coming up with more words to describe what it means to me seems almost impossible right now. Though I am now currently working on Book Three: From The Ashes which is so vastly different from where Katie started and is so vastly different from the world as it was, this book will always mean so much to me because it is the beginning of this journey as represented by the cherry blossom on the front (though the cherry blossom means so much much to the series as a whole).

To celebrate I want to share what this story is about and leave you with an excerpt.

Allison slowed her steps and furrowed her brows. “How does he know where you live?”

Katie played back every conversation she had with him. He had come from nowhere. She tried remembering his name but could only come up with the names of people she already knew—people she had known for years. People who didn’t know where she lived.

He stood there, watching, as she walked up her driveway.

“What are you doing here?” she said, glad Allison and Brian were standing next to her.

He frowned. “What do you think?”

“I think you can leave.” She was creeped out by the way he stood staring at her. His hair was too black, his eyes too blue, and his skin too smooth. Even in his stillness he was too alive. She felt something deep in the back of her mind; stirring, inside a rattling cage.

Tristan.

He said his name was Tristan.

“I’m only going to tell you this one more time. In fact, I’ll make it easy for you. Let’s go inside and talk,” he stated calmly.

Allison and Brian stared at him. Surely they could see it too. He was off—on some brand of crazy.

“Get off my property. I don’t know you, and we have nothing to talk about.” She said it and meant it, but she was curious about what he wanted. After all, he had tried to talk to her twice that day; however, he was at her house. This was creepy. She didn’t want him thinking he could stalk her.

She walked past him and to her door—to show him he didn’t faze her.

He grabbed her arm. “This isn’t a game. We need to talk now.”

“Get off me!” she yelled.

Brian pushed his way in between them. Tristan grabbed Brian and threw him so hard against the wood railing, it creaked.

Katie pulled her arm, but it was useless. Panic seized the back of her neck. He dragged her down the stairs towards the driveway. Toward a car parked on the curb. Katie screamed for him to let go. Allison ran past her and stopped midway between them and the car.

She held up her hands. “Look, if all you want is to talk, we can calm down, sit on the porch, and you can talk to Katie.”

Tristan stopped.

“Let go of me,” Katie said, yanking her arm back, but it was like pulling at a pipe stuck in a cement wall.

“Kay, he only wants to—BRIAN STOP!”

Katie turned to see Brian lunging at them with a knife in his hand. Tristan shoved her onto the grass, and she rolled. She tried to stand; when she looked up, she sank back down. The knife stuck out of Tristan’s chest. A knife.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Katie couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She could only watch as the blood stain grew, bigger and wider, on his shirt.

Allison cursed. She ran over to Tristan, but he pushed her away and pulled out the knife.

Katie swallowed down vomit as blood gushed out.

“Fucking great,” Tristan stumbled onto the grass next to Katie. “Who the hell carries around an iron pocket-knife?”

“How…how’d you know? You couldn’t know unless you’re a—” Brian started.

“Shut up,” Allison snapped. “Brian, you have no idea how lucky you are.”

“What are you talking about?” Katie screamed, eyes still on the growing puddle. Blood poured out of the rip in his shirt. “Oh my god. Brian, what did you do? Oh my god.”

Tristan’s face started to pale and his breath grew short and hollow.

“I…he’s not like us. He can’t be,” Brian said, standing in the middle of her yard, just as pale as Tristan.

“Kay, can you do me a favor?” Allison said, her eyes darting up and down the street. “Put your hands on his chest and press down hard. Okay?” Allison knelt down and rummaged through her bookbag like a madwoman.

“What?” Katie swallowed down more vomit and started to cry. How had this happened? Why had this happened? Tristan tried to sit up but fell back down.

“This is all your fault,” he said to her, grimacing.

“Kay, do what I told you. Now.” Allison pulled out her phone.

Katie reached out trembling hands over his chest and pressed down lightly. The warm blood welled between her fingers. Harder, she thought, but she couldn’t stop shaking.

Tristan screamed. “You’re making this hurt so much more than it should.”

“Sorry,” she cried, shaking even more.

“Lucy?” Allison said into her phone, “Brian just—can you come to Katie’s house immediately? There’s been an accident—no, Brian’s fine. He stabbed someone—no, not like that—Katie is here too. Okay, hurry.”

Katie looked at Allison. “We’re supposed to call the police, right? We—we should call the police. Why would you call Brian’s mom?”

Allison knelt down next to Katie. “You’re doing really good, Kay. We are going to press down a little harder. Okay?” Allison placed her hands firmly on top of Katie’s.

Why the hell hasn’t she called the police? Katie pressed down harder. There was so much blood. Too much blood. What could Brian’s parents do? This boy might be dead by the time they get here. He was going to die. Here. On her lawn—all because she didn’t give him five minutes of her time. She cried harder, gasping, as her tears mixed with his blood. They were all going to go to jail. Her life was over. They had killed a boy.