Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(116)
The incredible design team: art directors Joel Tippie and Amy Ryan; and Charlie Bowater, who illustrated the breathtaking jacket art. I am absolutely smitten with the work you’ve all done.
My husband, Jason Purdie, for respecting my creativity and cultivating a home environment where it can run wild, and for continuing to inspire me with your theatrical talent.
My children: Isabelle, for her enthusiasm about this story; Aidan, for making me laugh during tight deadlines; and Ivy, for asking hard life questions that kept me grounded.
My French friends, Sylvie, Karine, and Agnés, who helped me feel seen when I felt lost and alone as a teenager, and who inspired my deep love for their country and culture.
My critique partners and besties, Sara B. Larson, Emily R. King, and Ilima Todd, for making my shark attack scarier, my world-building clearer, and my characters more relatable.
Bree Despain, for sharing firsthand knowledge and sensory details of her travels through the catacombs beneath Paris. One day I’ll go exploring with you!
My French translator, Oksana Anthian, for tweaking my made-up French words until they sounded realistic and phonetically accurate.
My mother, Buffie, for assuring me the work would get done, and for providing me a quiet place in her home whenever I needed to escape in order to make that happen.
My writer father, Larry, who has already been ferried to the Beyond. I feel your love, help, and inspiration every day, Dad.
My writing friends, Jodi Meadows, Erin Summerill, Lindsey Leavitt Brown, Robin Hall, and Emily Prusso, for their pep talks, brainstorming, and laughter.
The best friends across my life: Jenny Porcaro Cole (high school), Colby Gorton Fletcher (mutual beauty school dropout . . . don’t ask), Mandy Barth Kuhn (college), Amanda Davis (newlywed years), Robin Hall (past neighbor), and Sara B. Larson (writing life). Because this book is largely about best friends who would do anything for one another, I had to give a shout-out to all of you.
My nine siblings, Gavon, Matthew, Lindsay, Holly, Nate, Rebecca, Collin, Emily, and McKay. With our strikingly different personalities, it’s pretty amazing that we all love each other and get along. Thank you for teaching me what a true famille is.
And to God, my steady rock and perfect deity. The gods in this book should take a lesson from You. Thank You for showing me how to love, grace by grace.
Excerpt from Bone Crier’s Dawn
Don’t miss the entrancing sequel to
BONE CRIER’S MOON
“WATCH OUT!” JULES’S LOW AND scratchy voice calls from a mineshaft above. We barely have time to move aside before she drops into the tunnel. A rush of air hits Bastien’s candle, and the flame sputters out. We’re thrown into absolute darkness.
“Merde.” Bastien curses.
“Relax,” Jules says. “Marcel always has a tinderbox in his pack.”
“And another candle,” Marcel adds.
“Excellent,” Jules replies. “The thunderstorm is loud enough now. It’s time to blow that wall.”
A few seconds later, flint and steel strike together. The soft glow meets a candlewick and snaps into a brighter flame.
Bastien and I elbow forward for the candle. “I’ll do this myself,” Marcel says.
“Wait!” Jules’s eyes widen at her younger brother.
It’s too late. He lowers the candle to the powder.
Whoosh.
Fire streaks an angry line toward the cask.
Jules yanks Marcel to his feet. Bastien spins and runs the other way. I shove him faster. Ailesse would never forgive me if he died.
We race until the dense atmosphere eats up all light and sound behind us. My nerves sting, waiting for the explosion. Did the fire burn out before it reached the cask? I glance over my shoulder.
BOOM.
A massive burst of flames zips toward us and throws me backward. I hit Bastien. We crash to the ground. A second later, Marcel and Jules topple onto us. Chalky smoke and debris flash by. Sharp rubble scrapes against my sleeves. The chaos finally settles into fat flakes of twirling ash.
No one moves for a long moment. We lie in a tangle of legs, arms, and heads. Finally, Marcel slides off our piled bodies. “I may have misjudged the impact of the blast.”
Jules groans. “I’m going to murder you.” She rolls off and shakes dust and ash from her golden braid. “You better hope that sounded like thunder, or any moment now all the soldiers in Beau Palais are going to flood this tunnel.”
We’ve been waiting for the perfect storm to mask the noise of the explosion, and as poor luck would have it, it fell on the same day as the new moon. If I can’t rescue Ailesse by tonight, I’ll have to lead my famille on the land bridge myself and ferry the souls of the departed into the Beyond. But I can’t. Ailesse is the only person alive who knows the song that opens the Gates of the Underworld and Paradise. She was meant to be matrone, not me.
I scoot off of Bastien and offer a hand to help him up. He hesitates, then exhales and takes it. Despite our bickering, I want his assistance. We’ll find Ailesse even faster if we work together.
We stand side by side and stare into the hazy gray light shining in from the blasted hole. I inhale a deep breath. After fifteen long days, we finally have access to the Beau Palais.
“Everyone ready?” Bastien cautiously rubs his injured back.
Jules nods and adjusts her cloak. I tighten my fists. Marcel settles into a comfortable position. He’s going to serve as watch. If the tunnel is compromised, he’ll light a small explosive filled with sulfur and pepper seeds. The stench will warn us not to come back this way. Meanwhile, Jules is going to guard our point of entry into the castle above.