Preorder has begun for Nothing Good Gets Away: Once & Future Book 4. I’m so excited for you all to get your hands on this book. I know some of you have been waiting for it. Thanks to the plague it has taken me much longer than I thought it would to get this book ready to publish, but we’re almost there.

Because I love you all so much, I’m including the first chapter of Nothing Good Get Away below. If you recall, or reread Thrice to Thine left a battered and exhausted Sarah and Dermot in a hotel in Edinburgh planning their escape from the Stuarts and Scotland. Nothing Good will pic up right where Thrice to Thine left off. I hope you enjoy.

At the bottom you’ll find some additional visual teasers.

CHAPTER 1

Edinburgh, Scotland

April 1996

Morning came too soon and not soon enough. In the blue-gray hour before dawn, Sarah drifted between sleep and self-doubt. Each time she opened her eyes in the unfamiliar hotel bed, the light filtering through the blinds grew brighter and the pressure in her chest mounted. For once the drowning feeling that had plagued her dreams since childhood now came to her when she woke. Then Dermot would shift in his sleep, pulling her closer. His embrace making her warm and languid, she would relax enough to drift off again. Her dreams in those brief bouts of sleep were filled with castles and car accidents, princes and prophecies, wizards and women lost in time.

Finally, she opened her eyes to see Dermot standing in front of the window. The rising sun struck his back sending shafts of light around him. His silhouette was rimmed with it like golden armor. Her knight, her champion. He was giving up everything to be with her, to live a life always looking over their shoulders and wondering what would happen to the friends and family they left behind. What would happen to his mother? She wondered once again how she could possibly be worthy of that sacrifice.

“Good, ye’re awake.” He offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her into a sitting position. Planting a kiss on her forehead. “We have time for a shower, but we’ve got to get going.”

Sarah rubbed her eyes. As sleep ebbed away, the here and now came back into focus. Her legs were sore from trekking through the Highlands followed by hours in the car. Her elbow ached where it had been dislocated in the car accident two days ago. Her brother had warned her it would hurt for a few days when he had popped it back into place. Had that really only been two days ago?

Dermot started the shower in the bathroom. He returned to rummage around in a plastic bag on the dresser retrieving a bottle of antiseptic. “Come on, sleepyhead. We need to treat those cuts again. Gorse thorns can cause terrible infections.”

Sarah looked down at the lattice of scratches that covered her arms and part of her legs. She had fallen out of their wrecked car directly into a gorse bush. Considering the recent turn her life had taken, it would be just her luck to escape the paparazzi, and the clutches of the Stuarts only to die of sepsis that she got from a gorse thorn covered in sheep poo. That thought got her out of bed and into the shower. Although it was definitely nice to find a naked and wet Dermot Sinclair waiting there to wash her back. All they had to do today was make it out of Scotland. Then they might just have a chance.

***

They stepped off the bus on Princes Street near North Bridge. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Dermot surveyed the street hoping that the heavy foot traffic meant they could blend in. Sarah slipped her hand into his and their fingers laced together. The coiled tension that knotted the muscles in his shoulders eased a fraction. He marveled at the experience of actually holding her hand in a public place. After hiding his feelings for her for so long, to stand in the sun with her was indescribable. Soon they would be able to live together without any restrictions. As soon as they met up with Des, Sarah MacAlpin and Dermot Sinclair would disappear. They would start again with new identities.

He lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. She rested her cheek on his arm. Turning, he found her eyes on him, crystalline green and brimming with love. Her hair was once again tucked up under a brown knit hat to hide her distinctive curls. He flashed back to the wee hours of the morning when she’d awakened him and they’d made love again, her hair brushing his chest soft and ephemeral. She squeezed his hand in reassurance.

Someone on the street bumped his other shoulder reminding him that they needed to be moving. They merged into the flow of pedestrians up North Bridge. To the High Street before turning down Cockburn. The cafe where he was to meet Des was a few doors past Fleshmarket Close. He walked Sarah to a tourist shop across the street. He didn’t like leaving her there, but after Des’s warning the day before, he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust his old friend. She could watch from a safe distance here and her American accent wouldn’t be noticeable among the tourists.

They spent a few moments browsing the souvenirs. The shop keeper fortunately seemed largely indifferent to the half dozen shopping tourists. After a few minutes, he picked a snow globe from a shelf and stepped closer to Sarah, who was combing through a rack of tartan ties.

“Amy would love this.” He spoke loud enough for the middle-aged woman a few feet away to hear.

Sarah leaned in as if to look at the snow globe. “You’re right. She would.”

In a low voice. “I’m going. If anything, anything happens across the street, or if I’m not back in ten minutes…”

“Don’t say it.” She hissed.

“…Take yer papers and go. Start a life somewhere.”

“I’m not leaving you.” She was adamant.

He appreciated her tenacity, but he hoped that she would leave if it came to that. Behind her, another tourist walked within earshot. “I think that saltire tie would be great for yer da.”

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the older man who was a few feet away looking at gold club covers. She turned back to him and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind. But if that’s what this is, just tell me now.”

He smoothed a hand down her arm and caught her eyes with his. “My mum told me to take care of ye. That’s what I mean to do. Nothing else matters.”

“You’re giving up so much.”

“Ye’re worth it. We are worth it. Never doubt that.” He whispered. “Dinna be here in ten minutes whether I come back or not.”

She handed him the snow globe before pressing herself against him with a devilish look in her eyes. “Have I mentioned how much I liked waking up next to you this morning?”

God, he loved her. “I mean it. Stay safe, no matter what.” He planted a kiss at her temple and deposited the snow globe on the shelf beside them. He left making his way across the street.

***

Sarah left the ties and positioned herself by a rack of T-shirts where she could watch the cafe through the shop window. She saw Dermot cross the street and go inside. Naturally, the mysterious Des had not picked a table near a window for their meeting. Dermot disappeared behind the glare of the sun on the glass. Sarah forced herself to look at the shirts to keep up the pretense of souvenir shopping. She rolled her eyes at one that read ‘Kilt Inspector’ and flipped past a bright yellow one with the Stuart lion rampant. She couldn’t help feeling as if they were being stalked by that lion. There she was hiding in the tall grass hoping that she and Dermot could get to a safe place before the Stuarts could devour them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a motion from across the street. A couple of women were coming out of the cafe laughing at something. They strode on down the street continuing their conversation. Sarah shifted her eyes back to the cafe. All she saw was a typical day on a street in the Old Town. Tourists strolled by pointing at the architecture of the stone buildings or pulling their suitcases down the steep, curving street to Waverley Station. Locals bustled by on their way to work. Nothing out of the ordinary. No stalking lions. She checked her watch. Five minutes.

Another shopper began flipping through the shirts on the opposite side of the rack, and Sarah’s pulse leapt. She hoped that tourists would be too interested in their own travels to pay attention to the local news or tabloids. It was why she had stayed at the hotel yesterday while Dermot had run about town getting cash and if all went right across the street a new identity. It had been weeks since the tabloids had first published her picture and connected her to billionaire playboy James Stuart. Weeks of cramming her hair into a hat and wearing fake glasses. Weeks of living in fear of someone recognizing her. Now that she and Dermot had disappeared after getting run off the road by an assassin in the Highlands, James himself was flashing her picture all over television. If they stayed in Scotland much longer the hat and glasses were not going to be enough of a disguise. Sarah glanced up at the woman who gave her a cordial smile and moved on to the next rack that held rugby shirts.

She felt a second of relief before checking her watch again. Seven minutes. Dermot better come back soon, or she might have to go into the cafe to get him. She had no intention of leaving without him, even if that was what he’d told her. With all that he was willing to give up for her, she rather brave the lion than be without him. She picked a shirt with some clan badge on it and held it up in front of the window. Looking past the shirt she eyed the cafe and tried not to look like a ball of nerves.

You can preorder Nothing Good Gets Away: Once & Future Book 4 here.