STORM CHASER IS OUT TODAY!
To celebrate its release, I had this beautiful character art done by Quinnasauras!
And enjoy this small excerpt of one of my favorite scenes.
The loudest bang echoed throughout the tight chamber and even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to move, I couldn’t help but flinch. After that, all sounds stopped. Even the initial whirring went totally silent.
Then came the muffled voices of my brother and his boyfriend.
“What in the…” Carter’s voice.
“What’s wrong?” Patrick.
“The machine had a glitch. It just stopped.” Carter sounded frazzled, which, being a doctor, was rare for him. “I’ve never seen this happen before.”
Two new pairs of feet came into the room, and a collection of masculine voices talked over one another.
“No way…did Marley break the MRI machine?” I recognized this one as Trav’s, on the verge of laughter.
“It’s not funny, Trav. Can you get her out?”
“Not using the machine. It’s gone all black.”
I slapped my hands against the sides of the tube. Claustrophobia was starting to kick in. “Then pull me out, dummies!”
Something happened then. Something that I knew I couldn’t have imagined. Literal lightning sparks flew off my palms and fingertips as my hands came away from the sides of the machine. Brilliant white energy bolts disappeared into the metal, magnetic plates. There was a great loud whine, and then the entire room went dark.
There was a stunned silence for about half a second, then there were shouts of alarm, emergency beeping, and muted conversations echoing through the halls of the hospital. Patrick, Travis, and Carter’s voices all trampled over each other.
“What the hell just happened?”
“A hospital blackout? Is it even storming?”
“There are emergency generators—just hang on.”
Just when I was on the verge of my own freak out, a sudden breeze blew through the tunnel of the MRI machine. With it, came that scent. Warm, dry earth mixed with the chill wetness of rain. The scent of a thunderstorm.
Strong hands gently tugged, pulled, and guided my legs so I could wiggle out of the machine. As my head cleared the entrance of the tube, I came face-to-face with a pair of glowing eyes in the darkness.
Brae’s irises were like a pair electrical rings—sparking and glowing in an array of colors—gold, silver, white, purple. They illuminated his face, highlighting all the planes and angles so I could see every detail—from the small scar on his jaw to the light freckles on his brown skin.
“Oh my god,” I breathed.