Shadowed Inheritance is Coming

A Consortium Origins Tale, Book #1

Shadowed Inheritance is Coming, that is to say, Shadowed Inheritance gets released in July 2024. I’m excited about this book. It’s a prequel story of the Consortium Series. OMG, I can’t believe it. It’s nearly done. I still have a few tweaks to make to it, but it’s mostly finished and ready for publication.

Synopsis

With the Consortium, no one is safe from their favorite hunting grounds. The trouble is… it includes the entire globe and no one can hide when they select their next target. Will that be you or one of your loved ones?

However, it didn’t just happen overnight. The Consortium is a century’s old organization hellbent on giving their membership what they want to do with as they please, regardless of the cost. What they want is prey, or rather, people of various colors, races, sexes, and nationalities. Anyone who falls into their web gets consumed by the brutal rules of man.

Shadowed Inheritance tells the tale of how Raven and her brother grew up in such a household. Their parents,
Genevieve and her husband raised their children to take over one day.

From preadolescence to her mid-twenties, Raven tells the bulk of her family’s story, putting the siblings
on the path to control the world’s murderous organization.

To entice you further, Here is a tease with an excerpt of the opening chapter of Shadowed Inheritance.

Act One—In the Beginning

Chapter One

Early on, I learned my parents named me Raven for the deep black hair I was born with. They must have made an excellent decision, as my hair got darker, the older I grew. Today, it has a blue/black sheen that reminds me of a raven’s feathers. I like my name so much that I decorated my room with everything related to ravens. I have Raven stuffies all over, watching, protecting, and keeping me safe, even as I watch them watching me.

I never thought of asking myself why I like Ravens the way I do; beyond that, they are my namesake. It wasn’t until my brother asked me that caused me to think about it. Normally, I dress in black, which offsets my pale white skin. I enjoy wearing black. I thought the contrast of black and white was a beautiful depiction of the darkness in my soul and the gentle, loving part that made me—me. As I grew older, I had Mum and Dad get me more and longer Victorian-style dresses. Mum tried to get me to expand my wardrobe, but I rarely wore anything she got that didn’t meet my approval. After a time, she gave up trying to change me. After that, we got along just fine.

That’s who I am. I know myself very well, and I make no bones about it. Mum reminded me that dinnertime was approaching, and I needed to prepare. I put my tablet down and fixed my makeup. Yes, Mum wished I would wait until I got older to wear makeup, but I knew my daddy liked it, so he won that battle.

Without fail, our family had dinner together every evening. It never changed, no matter what the day held for Mum or Dad, especially for our father. Of course, my brother and I had no say in the matter. That’s just the way it was.

Our dining room was large and ornate. The dining room had more chairs than necessary for just the four of us. Sometimes, our parent’s business guests occupied all the chairs around the dining table. Neither of them required us to sit elsewhere whenever they entertained dinner guests. I suppose they wanted us to learn the ways of business and political exchange.

My brother and I would sit next to Mum and Dad. Naturally, I sat on Daddy’s right hand. Everyone knew I had him wrapped around my little finger. I could get him to do or agree to anything I wanted, although I presumed he knew that, too. They taught us to sit straight and observe proper etiquette. Mum said we would need it when we ran the roost and entertained large groups of business associates. Mostly, as I was the oldest, I would be in charge, and my brother would always be there for me. So, we set an example and tone for dinner. Boys! My brother only wanted to know what we would eat. Me? I liked meat. I mean, I really liked meat, especially when roasted over an open flame and not overcooked. Be it lamb, pork, beef, or some other animal flesh, I loved the sound of the meat sizzling when first thrown on the grill. The burning sizzle reminds me of the animals screaming as the heat scorches their living flesh. Is it time to eat yet?

Well, what did you think? Send me a comment at the bottom of this page and let me know. I’ll answer all questions, including any about book #7 in the Consortium Series. After all, we can’t leave Avril and Sir hanging.