Obsidian

Once inside my bedroom, I quickly changed into a pair of sweats and slipped on my sneakers. Running into my sister cooled most of me down, but there was a raw edge to my nerves and I needed to be out of this house, away from her.

Not even bothering to change my shirt, I picked up speed, shooting through the house and out the front door. The moment my sneaks touched the porch, I took off and darted into the woods in a burst of speed. Overhead skies were gray and bleak. Drizzle pelted my face like a thousand tiny needles. I welcomed it, pushing and pushing until I was deep in the woods. Then I shed my human skin, taking my true form as I shot between the trees, moving until I was nothing more than a streak of light.

This was wrong. Think of Dawson. Look at what happened to him. Did I want to take the same risk? Leave Dee all alone? But even now I could feel her skin, taste it — sweet and sugary like candy. Hear that wonderful sound she made over and over again, haunting every mile I put between us.

An idea began to form — one that Dee would hate, but I didn’t see any other option. I could go to the DOD and request a move to one of the other communities. We’d be giving up our home, leaving our friends behind and Matthew, but it would be for the best. It was the right thing to do. Dee would be safe.

It would keep Kat safe.

Because Dee couldn’t stay away from her and neither could I. But no matter where I went, what I was running from would still be with me — Kat. She wasn’t just back in the house, in that bed. She was with me now, inside me. And there was no outrunning that.

Acknowledgements

Ob sidian wouldn’t even be a glimmer in my eyes without Liz Pelletier. Simply put, you’re the best. Seriously. Funny how one email can turn into this crazy idea within minutes, hours…and then days — wait, hours? And you’re like an editing ninja. Thank you.

Thank you to the wonderful, awesomely awesome team at Entangled Publishing. Heather Howland — I love the buns atop your head in your Twitter avatar. Have I told you that before? Thank you to Suzanne Johnson for turning my manuscript into a lovely Christmas tree during copyedits, Heidi Stryker — a huge thanks to you for being the first intern to read Ob sidian and think, “Wow, this doesn’t suck.” A shout out to my publicist Lewis Pollak — thank you for handling everything that you do.

To my agent Kevan Lyon — you are a dream come true. Special thanks to agents Rebecca Mancini and Stephanie Johnson. Whenever I hear your names, I get all warm and fuzzy inside.

To my family and friends, thank you for not disowning me when I don’t answer your calls or pay attention when you’re talking. I know I get lost in my head from time to time, so thank you for being patient.

Lesa Rodrigues and Cindy Thomas — you guys kept me sane while writing Ob sidian. To Carissa Thomas for liking to mess around with pictures of hot guys and make my blog all steamy, thank you.

Julie Fedderson — you’re the best crit partner and cheerleader in the world.

And a huge, GIGANTIC thanks to all the book bloggers out there who helped reveal the cover of Ob sidian and spread the word. I heart each and every one of you.

About the Author

Jennifer L. Armentrout lives in West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. Well, mostly. When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time reading, working out, watching zombie movies, and pretending to write. She shares her home with her husband, his K-9 partner named Diesel, and her hyper Jack Russell Loki. Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent her time writing short stories…therefore explaining her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes Adult and Young Adult Urban Fantasy and Romance.