The world is falling apart, and apparently so am I.

I love deadlines...

Especially the whooshing sound they make as they fly by. 

So... I thought 3 extra weeks was going to be plenty of time to finish up "Shadow of Death". I was wrong. Life happened, and the days flew by in a dizzying blur. Here's hoping the next 3 weeks are gentler and more productive.

The new release date for "Shadow of Death" is April 12th, 2022. If you've pre-ordered (thank you!) there's no action you need to take. Your copy will still ship out on the new release date. Likewise, the live chat in the Facebook group has been moved to the following Monday, April 18th, at 6pm central time.

Just because the release has been delayed doesn't mean I can't share a peek of the new loot for the next giveaway box and another excerpt (at the end of this email).

A Court of Candles is so much fun to work with. The fragrance for this new design "Lost Queen" is Egyptian amber and French lavender. Ink and Shrink Swag, another one of my favorite small businesses to work with, crafted the 3D book magnets and keychains with tiny ankh charms that match the ankh necklaces that will be included in the book boxes. 

Image of the new candle design, 3D book swag, and ankh necklace.

Radish News

Back in January, Lana Harvey and Jenna Skye made their debuts on Radish, a mobile reading app for serialized fiction. If you've already read both series, then there's nothing new here. But if you love reading on Radish, and you haven't read both series, "Grim in Limbo" (a shortened title for Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc.) and "Blood Vice" are available now!

Both stories are in "season" 4 (i.e. book 4) with new "episodes" (i.e. chapters) releasing daily. Also, Blood Vice is currently featured in the Gift Box on the Radish home page! The story will be in the Gift Box until 5pm central time on Thursday, March 24th, 2022.

(This is a mobile link that opens to Blood Vice in the Radish app)

Blood Vice on Radish graphic

Shadow of Death ~ excerpt 2


“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” —Pierre Teilhard de Chardin


After leaving Pandemonium, I dropped by the harbor in Limbo City and changed back into my old boots in my private cabin on the ship. The skeleton coin Tasha had mentioned was stashed in a hidden compartment in the heel of my left boot. Not that I expected I’d have to use it anytime soon, but one could never be too careful. Besides, I wasn’t up for breaking in a new pair of shoes today. Not with the evening I had ahead of me.

Bub and I were going to a party tonight. In Duat.

Okay, party was maybe an understatement. Navigium Isidis was a major festival celebrating Isis and her past influence over the Mediterranean Sea. The ancient holiday was technically a Roman invention, introduced in Egypt during the Ptolemaic Period, but it had survived into the sixth century on the mortal side. After which, it became an exclusive event in Duat.

Not just anyone could celebrate with the old gods and their most venerated believers. So, naturally, I was suspicious when an invitation from Isis landed in my mailbox.

Just because the council hadn’t outed me to the public, didn’t mean word about my lingering talent wasn’t circulating among the subcommittees. The under-the-table bribes to give certain souls priority was proof enough of that. I had to assume anything out of the ordinary was similarly linked to the revelation.

My first instinct was to politely refuse Isis’s invite. I didn’t have a great track record with Egyptian deities, and I still walked the other way any time I spotted Horus. But now that the Egyptian afterlife had merged with Summerland, they seemed more laid back and less calculating. Though they still fiercely clung to their ceremonies and festivals, even the Hellenized ones.

Like many other deities of the ancient world, the major players of the Egyptian faith had been adopted by the neopagans. Their modern holidays were rooted in Celtic tradition, but they’d invited all the old gods to the party, no matter their origin. Like the Catholics and their saints, there were different favorites from coven to coven.

Isis was among the popular goddesses de jour, though she was no stranger to foreign temples and pantheons. Still, Eternity-side, she preferred Egyptian traditions to the modern melting pot influence that many of the old gods had leaned into.

Zeus, on the other hand, hosted lavish parties on Mt. Olympus for all the neopagan holidays. He didn’t hold as much clout with the mortals these days, but many of his children were altar staples. Especially Athena, who resented the inconvenience of having to leave her boutique in Limbo City to appease the souls of Summerland.

Of course, now that Athena was on the Afterlife Council, she had even less time for her business. She’d been forced to make Artemis a partner, merging the huntress goddess’s line of leather capes, beaded quivers, and woodland apparel in with the ballgowns and clubwear.

The enchanted dummies that modeled the merchandise had been upgraded with archery safety protocols after one shot a customer in the ass with an arrow. I hadn’t been back to the shop since the news hit the cover of Limbo Weekly, but I needed a dress for tonight that didn’t look as if it had been forged in hellfire and made for sinning. So, I was taking my chances.

As I descended the ramp from my ship to the dock, a cold wind pressed down on me, tearing my attention up at a dark silhouette in the sky. The wings were too large to belong to a nephilim, but Gabriel was off on some pilgrimage with Peter in the Jerusalem Mountains along the outskirts of Heaven. I didn’t expect him back for at least another week.

“Great,” I grumbled and shielded my eyes with one hand as Maalik dropped onto the pier, black robe billowing at his ankles. His wings folded sharply against his back, matching his sanctimonious scowl.

“You’re being careless,” he accused without greeting or context.

“And you’re being a pain in my ass,” I countered. “But what’s new?”

Maalik grunted at the insult, but he fell in step beside me as I stalked off down the pier. “You were seen with Tasha Henry in Pandemonium this morning,” he said under his breath. His gaze swept the harbor, taking in the scattered storks and dockworkers.

“That was fast.” I shot him a sideways glare. “Are you spying on me, Councilor?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His cheeks flushed, though admitting something was absurd wasn’t the same thing as denying it. “The Hell Committee is keeping a close eye on Ms. Henry. They’ve agreed to report her to the Afterlife Council the second she steps out of their territory.”

“She’s in no hurry to do that,” I said, sparing him another scornful glance. “She only wanted to apologize for the trouble she’s caused me. I didn’t see the harm in meeting with her, and I wasn’t aware of any law on the books forbidding it.”

“You know there isn’t.” He fluttered a few steps ahead to cut off my path, forcing me to stop. “It will still look bad for you when the council finds out.”

“What can they do?” I snapped, though my head was already filling with a million miserable answers. “They need me—and not just to track down more original believers. The soul market is swamped.”

“That’s true enough, but you should still be careful. Drawing the council’s attention has never worked out well for you. I thought you’d appreciate the warning.”

“I do.” I sighed and gritted my teeth.

Maalik and I would never be friends, but there was a bridge between us that I didn’t have it in me to burn. I couldn’t imagine that he still carried a torch for me after all these years, which could only mean his kindness was meant to chisel away at his lingering guilt. New shoes were nice, but sound advice regarding the council was nothing to sneeze at.

“Thank you,” I said, awkwardly biting off the words.

“You’re welcome.” Maalik dipped his chin in a stiff nod. Then his wings spread wide, stirring up another brisk wind as he darted back into the sky.

Pre-order "Shadow of Death" today!

That's all for now. I'll be in Limbo City with Lana, polishing prose and reaping rogue commas, until the grim job is done. Catch you on the flipside!

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Angela Roquet

P.O. Box 1802

Lake Ozark, MO 65049