Turn Coat

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I would like to thank Anne Sowards, my marvelous editor, my agent, Jenn Jackson, and my poor deluded beta readers. I’ve been facing the kinds of problems authors only dream about having, and you all have been a tremendous help to me. With luck, I’ll figure out how best to repay you for the time and effort you’ve all given me.

And, always, for Shannon and JJ, who like me even when I vanish into my own head for days at a time.

The summer sun was busy broiling the asphalt from Chicago’s streets, the agony in my head had kept me horizontal for half a day, and some idiot was pounding on my apartment door.

I answered it and Morgan, half his face covered in blood, gasped, “The Wardens are coming. Hide me. Please.”

His eyes rolled back into his skull and he collapsed.

Oh.

Super.

Up until that moment, I’d been laboring under the misapprehension that the splitting pain in my skull would be the worst thing to happen to me today.

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