Punk 57(115)

The one in the middle was shorter, looking up at me through his white-and-black mask with a red stripe running down the left side of his face, which was also ripped and gouged.

And the one on my right, whose completely black mask blended with his black hoodie, so that you couldn’t tell exactly where his eyes were, was the one who finally made my chest shake.

I backed up, away from the window and tried to catch my breath as I dashed for my phone. Pressing 1 on the landline, I waited for the security office, which sat only minutes down the road, to pick up.

“Mrs. Fane?” a man answered.

“Mr. Ferguson?” I breathed out, inching back over to my windows. “It’s Rika. Could you send a car up to—?”

But then I stopped, seeing that the driveway was now empty. They were gone.

What?

I darted my eyes left and then right, getting right up to the table and leaning over to see if they were near the house. Where the hell did they go?

I remained silent, listening for any sign of anyone around the house, but everything was still and quiet.

“Miss Fane?” Mr. Ferguson called. “Are you still there?”

I opened my mouth, stammering, “I…I thought I saw something…outside my windows.”

“We’re sending a car up now.”

I nodded. “Thank you.” And I hung up the phone, still staring out the window.

It couldn’t be them.

But those masks. They were the only ones who wore those masks.

Why would they come here? After three years, why would they come here?



First, to the readers—so many of you have been there, sharing your excitement and showing your support, day in and day out, and I am so grateful for your continued trust. Thank you. I know my adventures aren’t always easy, but I love them, and I’m glad so many others do, too.

To my family—my husband and daughter put up with my crazy schedule, my candy wrappers, and my spacing off every time I think of a conversation, plot twist, or scene that just jumped into my head at the dinner table. You both really do put up with a lot, so thank you for loving me anyway.

To Jane Dystel, my agent at Dystel and Goderich Literary Management—there is absolutely no way I could ever give you up, so you’re stuck with me.

To the House of PenDragon—you’re my happy place. Well, you and Pinterest. Thanks for being the support system I need and always being positive.

To Vibeke Courtney—my indie editor who goes over every move I make with a fine-toothed comb. Thank you for teaching me how to write and laying it down straight.

To Kivrin Wilson—long live the quiet girls! We have the loudest minds.

To Ing Cruz at As the Pages Turn Book Blog—you support out of the goodness of your heart, and I can’t repay you enough. Thank you for the release blitzes, blog tours, and being by my side since the beginning.

To Milasy Mugnolo—who reads, always giving me that vote of confidence I need, and makes sure I have at least one person to talk to at a signing.

To Lisa Pantano Kane—you challenge me with the hard questions.

To Lee Tenaglia—who makes such great art for the books and whose Pinterest boards are my crack! Thank you. Really, you need to go into business. We should talk.

To all of the bloggers—there are too many to name, but I know who you are. I see the posts and the tags, and all the hard work you do. You spend your free time reading, reviewing, and promoting, and you do it for free. You are the life’s blood of the book world, and who knows what we would do without you. Thank you for your tireless efforts. You do it out of passion, which makes it all the more incredible.

To Samantha Young, who shocked me with a tweet about reading Falling Away when I didn’t even know she knew who I was.

To Jay Crownover, who came up to me at a signing, introduced herself, and said she loved my books (I just stared at her).

To Abbi Glines, who gave her readers a list of books she’d read and loved, and one of them was mine.

To Tabatha Vargo and Komal Petersen, who were the first authors to message me after my first release to tell me how much they loved Bully.

To Tijan, Vi Keeland, Helena Hunting, Penelope Ward, and Penny Reid for being there when I need you.

To Eden Butler and N. Michaels who are ready to read my books at the drop of a hat and give feedback.

To Natasha Preston who backs me up.

To Amy Harmon for her encouragement, positivity, support, and courage to break the mold.

And to B.B. Reid for reading, sharing the ladies with me, and giving me a Caliber tutorial at twelve-thirty in the morning. I’ll be nicer when you start sharing your chocolate.

It’s validating to be recognized by your peers. Positivity is contagious, so thank you to my fellow authors for spreading the love.

To every author and aspiring author—thank you for the stories you’ve shared, many of which have made me a happy reader in search of a wonderful escape and a better writer, trying to live up to your standards. Write and create, and don’t ever stop. Your voice is important, and as long as it comes from your heart, it is right and good.


Penelope Douglas is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author.

Her books include the Fall Away Series, as well as the standalones, Corrupt and Misconduct.

She dresses for autumn year round, loves anything lemon flavored, and shops at Target almost daily. She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and their daughter.