Born a Roskelly witch, Liliana’s spent most of her life running from who she is. Wielding dark power is dangerous, seductive. Mostly, she passes as human—until a clumsy spell lands her in 1890s Glasgow, and her web of fabrications collapses. Blackest of Black Magic workers, her Roskelly kinswomen are on the move. Risen from their crypts, they’ve set their sights on anyone standing in their way.
Sean makes certain Druid wealth remains invisible. Consumed by the seedy world of offshore havens, he’s caught unaware and shanghaied backward in time. Furious at being targeted, he vows any witch who crosses his path will die a fiery death. He may have pissed off the Roskellys, but he’ll make damn good and sure they rue the day they bullied him.
He tracks Liliana, intent on using his power to flay skin from bone, but something about her brings him up short. She may be a Roskelly, but the taint of wicked power isn’t obvious. Beyond that, she’s so alluring, she steals his wits. No longer hellbent on her destruction, he shrouds himself in invisibility determined to sort things out.
I'm basically a mountaineer at heart. I remember many hours at my desk where my body may have been stuck inside four walls, but my soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. There's a timeless element to the mountains. They feel like old friends as I visit them, and visit them again. There's nothing like standing on a remote pass where I've been before and seeing that the vista is unchanged. Or on an equally remote peak. Mountains are the bones of the world. They'll prevail long after all of us are dust. It feels honest and humbling to share space with them. I hope I'm blessed with many more years to wander the local landscape. The memories are incomparable. They warm me and help me believe there will be something left for our children and their children after them.