No matter where you are, if it is summer or winter, I hope you have a really nice holiday filled with good food, laughter and good memories.

I just finished wrapping the few gifts I have this year, so I am going to write until we are off to my brother’s in 3 hours or so.

Since it is Jul, I thought I would give you a sneak peek at the current opening for the Bonedragon’s curse.  (Which will probably be cut, because I want to start the book a smidge later.)

The sound of thumping footsteps approaching the burrow was almost masked by the rain pattering against the roof. Love inched over to the rowan staff, laying on a pair of pegs, just above the pile of grass and leaves were he slept. Part of him was whispering that he was overly cautious, that no one would hurt him.
He ignored it. Things were tense in the forest, tense enough that everyone was cautious.
”Love!” A familiar voice roared.
Love relaxed.
Ketor. What did the troll want now? The faun sighed. The only way to find out was to speak to his fried.
Love grumbled, but stood. He brushed off the leaves from his fur covered legs and poked his head out.
”What?”
”The warden want to see us.”
”Now?” Loke sputtered.
”Yes.”
”Why?”
”Dunno. Probably something about the feud between the dryads and the wolves.”
Loke grimaced. If the warden was summoning the rangers, things were getting to a head. He hoped it wouldn’t require Ketor bashing heads in with his stone club. Or him wacking dwellers with his staff.
”Let me get my cloak,” he muttered.
Ketor grunted.
Love grabbed the cloak his mother had woven from shed unicorn fur before he left her burrrow. He felt pang of nostalgia. He had a good life, but there were times when he wished fauns wasn’t so territorial. Love sighed. Maybe he could visit next summer.
He wrapped the cloak around him, and left.