Amber Lynn Natusch's Blog

Let’s try to keep your mind out of the gutter shall we? Well…maybe not all the way out, but mostly because I’m not talking about body parts (at the moment). I’m referencing this work in progress who has officially graduated to my third longest book I’ve ever written. 

*This is not the artwork for the book, just a placeholder.

Did I mean for this to happen? Of course not. I’d make them all 225 pages if I could pull that off. But Myra and Yael seem to want their debut to be chonky, so here I am, just watching that word count keep going up while I edit and wondering if I’ve finally lost all control over my characters. 

If you’ve been around long enough, you know it’s been dicey from the get go on that front!

I think dual POVs do this to me almost every time, and, if you know Yael from Queen Me, you’ll know that he’s a bit of a bullshitter, so I guess that tracks. The Devil and the Deep is currently weighing in at 99,000 words, and I’m pretty sure she’s gonna tip into the 100s here pretty soon. Readers always say the bigger the better and I’m hoping that holds true for this one, too. 

Do I know when it’ll be ready for the market yet? Nope. Do I have a cover artist lined up? Absolutely not (but not for lack of trying). Do I know how many books will be in the series or if the Queen Me leading duo will make an appearance or what the series name it yet? No, no, and no. But I hope to have answers to those questions soon… if these two ever let me wrap this thing up so my betas and editor can rip it apart in preparation for publication. 

More on all of this shenaniganery soon…

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An assassin. A killer of killers. A usurped king.
Meet the Moonlight Wraith.

QUEEN ME, a standalone romantic fantasy novel
set in Kel Carpenter’s Immortal Vices & Virtues shared universe series.

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+Add It To Your TBR
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I made a deal with the devil once,
and it cost me all but a shred of my soul.

A CURSE OF NIGHTSHADE, the first standalone paranormal romance
novel in the Witches of the Gilded Lilies series.

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It’s been a wild summer, but I’m finally back at writing and man have I missed it!

New England is bringing fall in early and I’m here for it. Cool nights, changing leaves…what else could a girl ask for?

How about a finished draft of a new book???

*This is not the artwork for the book, just a placeholder.

Lucky for me, Myra and Yael are about a week away from a finished draft, which means I can plot out my editing schedule and come up with a potential publication window! I’m super excited to share these two with you. They’re….tricky at best but I think they’re worth it in the end. The series will likely be only three books, and the plan is to focus on that series so I can have reasonable wait times between books.  I will need to take time to finish the final book in the Fireheart series, but I’ll be working on that while I hammer away at the new kids so it should work out well.

A few things I’ll be working on this fall that are noteworthy beyond the above releases:

Local signings at Barnes and NobleThe fancy Force of Nature hardcover omnibus set  (will be available on Kickstarter)Full paperback sets of signed Hometown Antihero in my webstore…and maybe a surprise or two.

Stay tuned for more information…

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An assassin. A killer of killers. A usurped king.
Meet the Moonlight Wraith.

QUEEN ME, a standalone romantic fantasy novel
set in Kel Carpenter’s Immortal Vices & Virtues shared universe series.

Start Reading Today
Amazon & Kindle Unlimited  |  Audible

+Add It To Your TBR
BookBub | Goodreads

The blood daughter of Anemosia has returned…

AN EMBER OF CHAOS, the second romantic fantasy
novel in the Fireheart series. 

Perfect for fans of Fourth Wing, dark intentions fuel this slow-burn fantasy romance where deadly secrets, epic journeys, and scorching enemies-to-lovers tension reign.

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Daily writing promptYou’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike? View all responses

If I had the opportunity to go on a cross-country trip,
I would love to do so on a train, but it needs to be a fancy train.

Think the Hogwarts Express.
Something with ‘old timey‘ character.

How would you prefer to travel for a cross-country trip?
Drop your answer in the comments!

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Great news!

I will be signing at Apollycon 2025!

I’m looking forward to seeing lots of beautiful reader faces
and getting to chat books with all of you.

PREORDERS CLOSE FRIDAY

MARCH 14, 2025

My books are now available for preorder for Apollycon 2025 attendees only. Preorders at a signing of this size are important to ensure there are copies available for you when you arrive at my table. Secure your book babies today!

Not attending Apollycon? If you’re not attending Apollycon 2025 and are just looking for signed paperbacks and hardcovers to be shipped to you, please click here to visit my Book Shop page.

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The end of an era.

I remember the early 2000’s when I moved to New England with my then boyfriend (now husband). We didn’t know anyone and were at that weird stage in adulthood when you couldn’t rely on college or grad school to provide you with a built-in friend base so it took a while to meet people I actually wanted to hang out with. 

One day Bryan came home and told me I’d really like this girl on his rec league volleyball team, and that I should hang out with her some time. So I did. She came over one night and hung out, and we ended up watching this show I’d seen advertised on the WB (now FX): Veronica Mars. A street-smart teen with a hard-on for vengeance and justice. I was instantly hooked.

No other show has ever had the same level of chokehold on me since. Was it the right show at the right time? I’m sure that was a big part of it, but there was also a connection to the FMC and the writing that I couldn’t explain, and it stayed with me long after the show was canceled (I’m still bitter about that)—for a decade and a half, to be exact. That’s when my agent randomly asked me after speaking to an editor interested in working with me if I could write anything YA. I pitched her a mystery/thriller series with a sharp-tongued FMC and a pain in the ass rookie fed and a small town with some BIG skeletons, and she was hooked. I channeled that love of Veronica Mars into an entirely different character who hit all the same notes that show did for me. A character I’ve loved writing so much that it hurts to see her go.

But it’s time.

I’ve been writing for fourteen years now and finished 37 novels. Of those, I think the Hometown Antihero series is probably the best of them all as a collective: best cast, best writing, best stories, and best angst/tension. Funny, given I’m primarily a fantasy writer, that I’d think my contemporary mystery series tops the bunch, but there’s just something about this series that hits, and I’ve stopped trying to understand it.

Read them and see if you agree. 

BURN IT ALL DOWN is now available on Amazon, Kindle Unlimited, and in paperback.

BURN IT ALL DOWN
A Hometown Antihero Novel
© 2025 Amber Lynn Natusch

PROLOGUE

From the moment the gavel fell in the courtroom that day, sealing my father’s fate, every step I’d taken was with the singular focus of seeing him freed. And that journey had led me to exactly where I stood. 

In the distance, an abandoned farmhouse sat ominously, beckoning me to it. I knew that beyond its front door, the vengeance I’d craved for so long awaited me. Vengeance for the innocence the Advocatus Diaboli had stolen from me. For the pain he’d caused. 

For my father. 

For Dawson. 

Standing there in the dark of night, with only the dim light spilling through the front windows of the eerie house to show the way, I thought about the monster waiting inside. I knew in the marrow of my bones that only one of us would be leaving there alive—that my story with the AD was about to come to a conclusion.

That one way or another, it would end now.  

CHAPTER ONETwo Weeks Earlier

I watched as a single snowflake danced on the early winter wind, drifting down until it fell on the back of my hand. For a fleeting moment, I admired its intricate pattern and beauty before the warmth of my skin melted it away, destroying its future in an instant. I tracked the droplet of water as it dribbled onto the table next to my food tray, then vanished through the cracks in the wood, never to be seen again. 

The metaphor was hardly lost on me.

Images of taillights fading as the river swallowed them whole played over and over in my mind while I stared at the table, oblivious to anything around me. 

Until a faint voice broke through the haze. “Ky?” Someone jostled my shoulder hard enough to pull me from my macabre fixation. “Earth to Kylene Danners!”

I snapped from my memory to find Garrett staring at me, concern bleeding into his expression, and I realized I’d zoned out during a conversation yet again—apparently right in the middle of a rather heated lunch debate, the subject of which I’d totally missed.

“Well?” Tabby demanded from across the table. “What’s your vote? We need it to break the tie.”

“Yes,” I said with the confidence of someone who had totally been paying attention. “Absolutely.”

Tabby’s expression soured in an instant. Her boyfriend, Mark, however, threw his hands up in triumph as he jumped up onto the bench seat. “That’s what I’m talking about! Holiday mullets for the boys!”

It was at that moment I knew I’d fucked up.

“Wait, what?” I said as reality slammed into my gut like a cheap shot after the bell.

“Were you even listening?” Maribel asked, annoyance (or sheer terror) tainting her tone. She glared at me with those deep brown eyes like she wanted to rip my tongue out. “The boys want to grow mullets over Christmas break, Kylene—and you just gave them the green light!”

Oh shit.

“Um, I think I misunderstood the assignment—”

“Clearly,” Tabby muttered under her breath.

“I’d like to claim a do-over due to mental distress.”

“Nope,” Garrett said, shooting me an amused look, “no takebacks. No re-votes. What’s done is done and cannot be undone—”

“Oh, not that again,” Maribel said with a sigh as she buried her head in her hands, trying to escape her secondhand embarrassment. “You really have to stop quoting those high fantasy shows—”

“But I thought you loved that there’s a D&D nerd under all this sexiness.” He smiled at his girlfriend in a way that would have disarmed a lesser woman. But Maribel was far from one of those.

“I do love that about you, but I’ll love it less if you’re sporting a crown of business in the front, party in the rear when we come back in the new year.”

“Yeah, I’m going to claim temporary insanity, which technically nullifies my vote. That leaves you back at a stalemate.”

“Which means the hair stays,” Tabby announced loudly as she pulled Mark back down into the seat beside her.

“Awww, but babe…it’ll look good on me.”

She folded her arms and pinned a look on him that even I would have retreated from. “Will it look as good on you as single will look on me?” He opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it, taking a big bite of his burger in defeat instead. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re going to be a holy terror in law school one day,” Garrett laughed as he raked his fingers through his shaggy black hair that wouldn’t be getting a mullet anytime soon.

“She really is,” I agreed, forcing a smile. “No one will ever see the predator lurking inside all that gangly prey aesthetic.”

“I should be offended by that,” Tabby replied, flipping her vibrant red hair over her shoulder, “but I’m going to take it as a compliment. Dichotomy is my vibe.”

“It sure is,” Mark said with mischief in his eyes. “Lady in the streets, freak in the—”

Tabby slapped her hand over his mouth while hers hung agape with shock. Garrett and Maribel laughed wildly, and I did my best to join in. Old Kylene would have thought it was hilarious. But it took a lot to break through post-rooftop Kylene’s haze. She was tired. Frustrated. And felt lost without a purpose.

Dad’s case had all but gone cold the moment the police cruiser containing the mob hitman who’d nearly killed Dawson and me did a swan dive over a guardrail into the river, taking two officers along with it. Why? We still didn’t know, because no sabotage had been found once it was dragged from the water and examined. No cut brakes. No jammed steering. The only ones who knew exactly what had happened in the car that night were either lying on a slab in the morgue or buried six feet under.

Or the brains behind it all.

I’d have bet my life that the AD was to blame, but proving that would be nearly impossible.

Dawson had been called back suddenly from his trip back east only a day after he arrived, so he’d returned empty-handed. Not one to be easily deterred, he’d dedicated every spare moment he had after that to combing through the personal affairs of both officers in the cruiser to find something damning, but had, as of yet, come up short. Since Manny Marazano had been cuffed and behind the cage in the back seat, it was safe to say that he wasn’t the direct cause. 

Two deaths he wouldn’t get to take credit for in his rather notorious career.  

In the two weeks following that night, I’d felt totally and completely adrift. Did that sound unnecessarily dramatic? Maybe, but it was true nonetheless. My father’s case had overtaken my life without me even fully realizing it, which had proven to be an excellent distraction (danger notwithstanding) from everything else in my life I hadn’t wanted to deal with—like my mother’s absence, Gramps’ health scare, my rather devastating breakup with AJ, the myriad attempts on my life, and the fact that I might never get to see my father outside of prison again. But now, with nothing but time and the pile of missed assignments I was buried under and desperate to avoid, I found myself in a sea of dark thoughts with all those issues clawing at me, trying to pull me under. The concussion I was still healing from and the resulting gaps in my memory from the night of the pageant certainly weren’t helping things. 

Thankfully, I had an upcoming appointment with the FBI’s in-house therapist, Dr. Chin. If anyone could help me navigate it all, it was her—or Dawson. He had a way of helping me wade through the chaos of my life, like a beacon that always guided me true. But my beacon was holed up in Columbus, buried in a pile of work all his own. Though he’d been much better about staying in contact—unlike the last time I’d nearly been killed—I hadn’t seen him for weeks. I couldn’t help but wonder if that made my already despondent state a little worse.

A complicated thought to unpack another day.   

While everyone else roared with laughter at Tabby’s reaction, Garrett stared at me in silence, as though he could read my mind. As if he could see that his friend was slowly drowning in a turbulent sea of her own unwitting creation, hiding behind a fake smile and forced laugh, and he knew that just throwing her a life jacket wouldn’t be enough. He might have to dive in with her and haul her out, kicking and screaming, if he wanted to save her—from the sea as much as from herself.

The warning bell rang, saving me from his impending interrogation (which, to his credit, he hadn’t done since the night of the pageant), and I scooped up my tray still filled with the lunch I hadn’t eaten before heading toward the door.

“Gonna be hard to turn in that English assignment without your bag,” he called after me. I turned to find him holding it up in dramatic fashion. 

“I was just going to dump this and come back for it,” I lied with ease, but the pinched corners of his eyes told me he saw right through it. He whispered something to Maribel before kissing her cheek, then jogged over to me as the others looked on, each of them wearing that same look of concern. “Here you go,” he said, handing it over.

“Thanks.” I slipped it over my shoulder as I walked through the cafeteria. “But I probably don’t need it since I didn’t get that paper done, so—”

“You want me to come by tonight and help you with it?”

“Nah, I’m trying to actually pass that class, thank you very much.”

My clear attempt to deflect with humor was as ineffective as I expected. Garrett Higgins knew me far too well for a tactic like that to work on him. I was losing my edge, too, apparently.

He pulled me to a stop and eyed me for a moment as everything he wanted to say played out in his expression. “I’m worried about you, Ky. Like really worried.”

“You don’t need to be,” I said with a sigh. “I know I seem a little off, but I promise it’s nothing. I’m just trying to process all this shit, you know?”

“I do know, but I think it’s more than that. It’s like you’re a zombie some days, and it’s freaking me out.” He looked back at the group still lingering around the table, staring from a distance. “It’s freaking us all out.”

“I’m not trying to worry you—”

“We know that, but it’s not hard to see that you’re struggling…we just want to help.” Students rushed past us as we stood in the middle of the cafeteria having a conversation I most certainly didn’t want to have—because the truth was, maybe they were right to worry. Maybe things were worse than I wanted to admit. Worse than I could see myself. “Mark said you haven’t been back to the gym at all,” he continued, “and it doesn’t seem like you’re doing any of your homework.”

“I barely did my homework before, if you recall.”

He frowned at my rebuttal. “Tabby said you turn down all her offers to hang out after school.”

“In fairness, I turn down everyone’s—”

“Which is exactly the point, Ky. You’re isolating yourself, and I just don’t think it’s okay.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then promptly shut it, because he was right. They all were. 

I’d felt a numbness since I watched that car go over the bridge that I couldn’t quite shake. It was different from the shock I’d felt after Donovan and Lawyer Luke had tried to kill me. Different from the bone-deep cold I’d experienced after narrowly escaping Mr. Matthew’s basement of doom. Hell, it was even different from watching Dawson tumble over the rooftop at the hotel. Every one of those reactions had been steeped in fear. 

This, however, was something else entirely—like an emptiness I couldn’t fill. My hope for saving my father had disappeared that night, and I realized that had been the only thing keeping me going since his incarceration. 

Healthy? No. 

True? Yes. 

When I didn’t respond, he stepped closer, the hand holding my forearm squeezing ever so slightly. “I love you like a sister, Ky, and I always have. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But I don’t know how to help you right now, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself, if that’s what you’re worried about, Garrett. I promise.”

“I want to believe you—”

“Then believe me.” His furrowed brow did not ease at my words, so I took his hands in mine as kids frantically rushed past us, headed to their classes before the final bell rang. “I’m just struggling a bit right now, that’s all. Once I can wrap my head around everything, I’ll be good to go…it’s just going to take a little while.”

“And you’re still seeing that therapist?”

“Yes, Dad,” I said with a genuine smile, “I’m going back Saturday. Feel better now?”

He eyed me tightly for a moment before a tiny crack formed in his concerned exterior. “Yes. Much. But I’d feel even better if you agreed to a movie night this weekend.”

I groaned in dramatic fashion. “I will agree to this, but only, and I mean ONLY, if I get to pick the movie, because I cannot handle your borderline-problematic obsession with Tom Cruise films or all things Lord of the Rings-adjacent.”

A smile spread at my response. “Deal.”

The final bell rang, alerting us to our collective tardy status, but Garrett didn’t even flinch. His reservations about my mental health outweighed potential detention, and in the strangest way, that thought made me smile.

A tiny light cut through my dark abyss. 

“I’ll text you later for details,” I said, releasing his hands. 

“I’ll stalk you if you don’t.”

I walked away quickly before the weight of the moment and Garrett’s watchful eye overwhelmed me. He wasn’t kidding and I knew it, and if I didn’t get my shit together fast, he’d stage a full-scale intervention, complete with sob stories and a plan of action to keep me from being a danger to myself. Because he loved me.

Because he was my best friend in the world.

By the end of the day, all I wanted to do was go home and numb out on the couch until I fell asleep. Unfortunately, my overwhelming late assignment load couldn’t allow for that. I’d been in the weeds since I set foot in Jasperville High School, and that situation had only gotten worse with every case I’d gotten sucked into. I needed to buckle down and attempt to focus, something my brain seemed thoroughly incapable of as of late, if I wanted any chance of getting caught up. Principal Thompson had kindly pointed out to me that my ability to graduate on time hung in the balance. And it would be such a shame to waste that full ride I’d been given to Ohio State, so pulling my head out of my ass was my only option.

I made a quick pit stop at my locker to regroup and get everything I needed for an evening of physics and English boredom, hoping to do so without having a concerned teacher or principal ‘just happen by’ in the process. They meant well, but their need to keep an eye on me was as unwarranted as it was annoying. Stealth was the name of the game. 

As I chucked books from my bag into the rusty metal locker, I heard a group of girls giggling and whispering nearby. I peeked past my locker door, expecting to see them looking my way, but instead I found them crowded together, reading something on one of their phones. The sheer joy on their faces was as surprising as it was foreign, and I stared at them, trying to remember what that carefree vibe felt like—remember a time when being asked to a dance or thinking about college was my heaviest burden. At the moment, they felt like distant memories, eclipsed by murder convictions, attempts on my life, and a conspiracy so deep I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to the bottom of it. Not alive, anyway.

With a heavy sigh, I went about gathering my books for the ever-looming mound of homework I’d face when I got home. I slammed my locker shut and heaved my massive bookbag onto my shoulder, the weight and momentum of it spinning me around 180 degrees—right into the path of AJ Miller.

Foiled by physics yet again.

He stopped the second our eyes met, and we stared at each other for longer than was comfortable. We hadn’t spoken since we’d broken up, not even after everything that had happened at the pageant. I could see in the depths of those bright green eyes that he wanted to say something—that his lack of contact with me had to do with so much more than anger—but there really wasn’t anything to say, and we both knew it. A hard line had been drawn in the sand when I chose my father’s chance at freedom (and my continued danger, as I was sure he would argue) over him, and there would be no coming back from that. I had hoped that eventually we could be friends again, but the pain in his expression said otherwise. 

There would be no going back. 

Just before my better judgment failed and I walked over to try and make amends, he dropped his gaze, turned on his heels, and stormed away without looking back. 

Swallowing down a well of emotions I had zero interest in dealing with, I darted down the nearest staircase and all but ran to the parking lot where Heidi, my not-so-trusty car, awaited. I made it to her without interference, which was a blessing all its own, and drove home as quickly as possible. Gramps wouldn’t be home until later, and I relished the idea of just being alone for a while. No scrutinizing eyes. No piteous looks. And no impending doom—except for my pile of homework. 

The dense clouds above made it much darker than normal, and I secretly wished I’d left a light on when I’d rushed out of the house that morning, late for school. Was I scared of the dark? No. Did I have an overactive imagination now, fed by real-life harrowing events that made me feel like I was scared of the dark? Yes. Yes, I did. 

And I hated it. 

Steeling myself with a few deep breaths, I got out of the car and made my way up the front porch steps to the door, keys in hand. I glanced back over my shoulder as I fumbled with the lock, half expecting (or hoping) to see Agent Dawson storming up the front yard with a file in his hand and a look of determination in his warm hazel eyes. But all I saw was the empty street. 

Then the key turned over and the door swung open. Once I was inside, I locked it up tight again. 

Gramps had left me some sort of casserole concoction in the fridge with a little note on top: I know you probably didn’t eat your lunch, so this had better be empty when I get home tonight. He’d signed it with a heart (and his poor attempt at a smiley face), which warmed mine in return. After all he’d been through, heart attack and all, he was still just worried about me. It made me realize the sacrifices parents made for their children—and their children’s children. 

My father’s reluctance to talk about his case finally began to make sense, which cemented the grim reality I’d been steeping in for weeks: he would never help me prove his innocence. Not really, anyway. And with the evidence lost with Manny Marazano’s death, prison was where Dad would stay for now. 

For me. 

To keep me safe. 

Endangering his life for mine; that was his burden to bear. Accepting that truth was mine; and it seemed an impossible task. 

Reheating dinner was not, though, so I tossed it into the microwave, sans note, and watched it spin around in a circle as the timer ticked down, wondering how I could ever come to terms with the fact that I would never hold my father again until he was older than Gramps—and that was only if he even survived the length of his incarceration. He’d had three ‘incidents’ last I’d checked, and though he said they had all been resolved, I didn’t believe him.

I wasn’t the only Danners capable of a bald-faced lie to serve a greater purpose. 

The shrill beeping of the ancient microwave ripped me from my downward spiral, and I pulled my dinner out, grabbed a fork, and plopped down on the couch in front of the TV where my bookbag lay on the coffee table like a bad omen. 

With a heavy sigh, I opened it up and pulled my physics textbook out, along with my phone. As if touching it had brought it to life, the screen flashed with an incoming call from Logan Hill Prison. 

I stared at it for a moment, heart in my throat, then swiped it away. Taking a call from my father was more reality than I could bear at that moment. Instead, I tossed it down next to the dinner I didn’t eat and the book I never opened, curled up under a blanket, and fell asleep.

Continue Reading…

After three failed attempts on Kylene’s life, it looks like the Advocatus Diaboli might finally be done hunting her.

Or not.

Sure, our girl’s had a couple weeks reprieve from near-death experiences to deal with the lost dream of freeing her father from prison, but when mob witnesses with potential information that could break her dad’s case wide open again start dropping like flies, Kylene and Agent Dawson find themselves right back in the thick of things—and all the danger that entails.

Only this time, they won’t escape its grasp.

BURN IT ALL DOWN, the fourth and final young adult mystery novel in the Hometown Antihero series by USA Today bestselling author Amber Lynn Natusch.

Start Reading the Finale Now

Amazon & Kindle Unlimited

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BURN IT ALL DOWN
A Hometown Antihero Novel
© 2025 Amber Lynn Natusch

PROLOGUE

From the moment the gavel fell in the courtroom that day, sealing my father’s fate, every step I’d taken was with the singular focus of seeing him freed. And that journey had led me to exactly where I stood. 

In the distance, an abandoned farmhouse sat ominously, beckoning me to it. I knew that beyond its front door, the vengeance I’d craved for so long awaited me. Vengeance for the innocence the Advocatus Diaboli had stolen from me. For the pain he’d caused. 

For my father. 

For Dawson. 

Standing there in the dark of night, with only the dim light spilling through the front windows of the eerie house to show the way, I thought about the monster waiting inside. I knew in the marrow of my bones that only one of us would be leaving there alive—that my story with the AD was about to come to a conclusion.

That one way or another, it would end now.  

CHAPTER ONETwo Weeks Earlier

I watched as a single snowflake danced on the early winter wind, drifting down until it fell on the back of my hand. For a fleeting moment, I admired its intricate pattern and beauty before the warmth of my skin melted it away, destroying its future in an instant. I tracked the droplet of water as it dribbled onto the table next to my food tray, then vanished through the cracks in the wood, never to be seen again. 

The metaphor was hardly lost on me.

Images of taillights fading as the river swallowed them whole played over and over in my mind while I stared at the table, oblivious to anything around me. 

Until a faint voice broke through the haze. “Ky?” Someone jostled my shoulder hard enough to pull me from my macabre fixation. “Earth to Kylene Danners!”

I snapped from my memory to find Garrett staring at me, concern bleeding into his expression, and I realized I’d zoned out during a conversation yet again—apparently right in the middle of a rather heated lunch debate, the subject of which I’d totally missed.

“Well?” Tabby demanded from across the table. “What’s your vote? We need it to break the tie.”

“Yes,” I said with the confidence of someone who had totally been paying attention. “Absolutely.”

Tabby’s expression soured in an instant. Her boyfriend, Mark, however, threw his hands up in triumph as he jumped up onto the bench seat. “That’s what I’m talking about! Holiday mullets for the boys!”

It was at that moment I knew I’d fucked up.

“Wait, what?” I said as reality slammed into my gut like a cheap shot after the bell.

“Were you even listening?” Maribel asked, annoyance (or sheer terror) tainting her tone. She glared at me with those deep brown eyes like she wanted to rip my tongue out. “The boys want to grow mullets over Christmas break, Kylene—and you just gave them the green light!”

Oh shit.

“Um, I think I misunderstood the assignment—”

“Clearly,” Tabby muttered under her breath.

“I’d like to claim a do-over due to mental distress.”

“Nope,” Garrett said, shooting me an amused look, “no takebacks. No re-votes. What’s done is done and cannot be undone—”

“Oh, not that again,” Maribel said with a sigh as she buried her head in her hands, trying to escape her secondhand embarrassment. “You really have to stop quoting those high fantasy shows—”

“But I thought you loved that there’s a D&D nerd under all this sexiness.” He smiled at his girlfriend in a way that would have disarmed a lesser woman. But Maribel was far from one of those.

“I do love that about you, but I’ll love it less if you’re sporting a crown of business in the front, party in the rear when we come back in the new year.”

“Yeah, I’m going to claim temporary insanity, which technically nullifies my vote. That leaves you back at a stalemate.”

“Which means the hair stays,” Tabby announced loudly as she pulled Mark back down into the seat beside her.

“Awww, but babe…it’ll look good on me.”

She folded her arms and pinned a look on him that even I would have retreated from. “Will it look as good on you as single will look on me?” He opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it, taking a big bite of his burger in defeat instead. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re going to be a holy terror in law school one day,” Garrett laughed as he raked his fingers through his shaggy black hair that wouldn’t be getting a mullet anytime soon.

“She really is,” I agreed, forcing a smile. “No one will ever see the predator lurking inside all that gangly prey aesthetic.”

“I should be offended by that,” Tabby replied, flipping her vibrant red hair over her shoulder, “but I’m going to take it as a compliment. Dichotomy is my vibe.”

“It sure is,” Mark said with mischief in his eyes. “Lady in the streets, freak in the—”

Tabby slapped her hand over his mouth while hers hung agape with shock. Garrett and Maribel laughed wildly, and I did my best to join in. Old Kylene would have thought it was hilarious. But it took a lot to break through post-rooftop Kylene’s haze. She was tired. Frustrated. And felt lost without a purpose.

Dad’s case had all but gone cold the moment the police cruiser containing the mob hitman who’d nearly killed Dawson and me did a swan dive over a guardrail into the river, taking two officers along with it. Why? We still didn’t know, because no sabotage had been found once it was dragged from the water and examined. No cut brakes. No jammed steering. The only ones who knew exactly what had happened in the car that night were either lying on a slab in the morgue or buried six feet under.

Or the brains behind it all.

I’d have bet my life that the AD was to blame, but proving that would be nearly impossible.

Dawson had been called back suddenly from his trip back east only a day after he arrived, so he’d returned empty-handed. Not one to be easily deterred, he’d dedicated every spare moment he had after that to combing through the personal affairs of both officers in the cruiser to find something damning, but had, as of yet, come up short. Since Manny Marazano had been cuffed and behind the cage in the back seat, it was safe to say that he wasn’t the direct cause. 

Two deaths he wouldn’t get to take credit for in his rather notorious career.  

In the two weeks following that night, I’d felt totally and completely adrift. Did that sound unnecessarily dramatic? Maybe, but it was true nonetheless. My father’s case had overtaken my life without me even fully realizing it, which had proven to be an excellent distraction (danger notwithstanding) from everything else in my life I hadn’t wanted to deal with—like my mother’s absence, Gramps’ health scare, my rather devastating breakup with AJ, the myriad attempts on my life, and the fact that I might never get to see my father outside of prison again. But now, with nothing but time and the pile of missed assignments I was buried under and desperate to avoid, I found myself in a sea of dark thoughts with all those issues clawing at me, trying to pull me under. The concussion I was still healing from and the resulting gaps in my memory from the night of the pageant certainly weren’t helping things. 

Thankfully, I had an upcoming appointment with the FBI’s in-house therapist, Dr. Chin. If anyone could help me navigate it all, it was her—or Dawson. He had a way of helping me wade through the chaos of my life, like a beacon that always guided me true. But my beacon was holed up in Columbus, buried in a pile of work all his own. Though he’d been much better about staying in contact—unlike the last time I’d nearly been killed—I hadn’t seen him for weeks. I couldn’t help but wonder if that made my already despondent state a little worse.

A complicated thought to unpack another day.   

While everyone else roared with laughter at Tabby’s reaction, Garrett stared at me in silence, as though he could read my mind. As if he could see that his friend was slowly drowning in a turbulent sea of her own unwitting creation, hiding behind a fake smile and forced laugh, and he knew that just throwing her a life jacket wouldn’t be enough. He might have to dive in with her and haul her out, kicking and screaming, if he wanted to save her—from the sea as much as from herself.

The warning bell rang, saving me from his impending interrogation (which, to his credit, he hadn’t done since the night of the pageant), and I scooped up my tray still filled with the lunch I hadn’t eaten before heading toward the door.

“Gonna be hard to turn in that English assignment without your bag,” he called after me. I turned to find him holding it up in dramatic fashion. 

“I was just going to dump this and come back for it,” I lied with ease, but the pinched corners of his eyes told me he saw right through it. He whispered something to Maribel before kissing her cheek, then jogged over to me as the others looked on, each of them wearing that same look of concern. “Here you go,” he said, handing it over.

“Thanks.” I slipped it over my shoulder as I walked through the cafeteria. “But I probably don’t need it since I didn’t get that paper done, so—”

“You want me to come by tonight and help you with it?”

“Nah, I’m trying to actually pass that class, thank you very much.”

My clear attempt to deflect with humor was as ineffective as I expected. Garrett Higgins knew me far too well for a tactic like that to work on him. I was losing my edge, too, apparently.

He pulled me to a stop and eyed me for a moment as everything he wanted to say played out in his expression. “I’m worried about you, Ky. Like really worried.”

“You don’t need to be,” I said with a sigh. “I know I seem a little off, but I promise it’s nothing. I’m just trying to process all this shit, you know?”

“I do know, but I think it’s more than that. It’s like you’re a zombie some days, and it’s freaking me out.” He looked back at the group still lingering around the table, staring from a distance. “It’s freaking us all out.”

“I’m not trying to worry you—”

“We know that, but it’s not hard to see that you’re struggling…we just want to help.” Students rushed past us as we stood in the middle of the cafeteria having a conversation I most certainly didn’t want to have—because the truth was, maybe they were right to worry. Maybe things were worse than I wanted to admit. Worse than I could see myself. “Mark said you haven’t been back to the gym at all,” he continued, “and it doesn’t seem like you’re doing any of your homework.”

“I barely did my homework before, if you recall.”

He frowned at my rebuttal. “Tabby said you turn down all her offers to hang out after school.”

“In fairness, I turn down everyone’s—”

“Which is exactly the point, Ky. You’re isolating yourself, and I just don’t think it’s okay.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then promptly shut it, because he was right. They all were. 

I’d felt a numbness since I watched that car go over the bridge that I couldn’t quite shake. It was different from the shock I’d felt after Donovan and Lawyer Luke had tried to kill me. Different from the bone-deep cold I’d experienced after narrowly escaping Mr. Matthew’s basement of doom. Hell, it was even different from watching Dawson tumble over the rooftop at the hotel. Every one of those reactions had been steeped in fear. 

This, however, was something else entirely—like an emptiness I couldn’t fill. My hope for saving my father had disappeared that night, and I realized that had been the only thing keeping me going since his incarceration. 

Healthy? No. 

True? Yes. 

When I didn’t respond, he stepped closer, the hand holding my forearm squeezing ever so slightly. “I love you like a sister, Ky, and I always have. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But I don’t know how to help you right now, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself, if that’s what you’re worried about, Garrett. I promise.”

“I want to believe you—”

“Then believe me.” His furrowed brow did not ease at my words, so I took his hands in mine as kids frantically rushed past us, headed to their classes before the final bell rang. “I’m just struggling a bit right now, that’s all. Once I can wrap my head around everything, I’ll be good to go…it’s just going to take a little while.”

“And you’re still seeing that therapist?”

“Yes, Dad,” I said with a genuine smile, “I’m going back Saturday. Feel better now?”

He eyed me tightly for a moment before a tiny crack formed in his concerned exterior. “Yes. Much. But I’d feel even better if you agreed to a movie night this weekend.”

I groaned in dramatic fashion. “I will agree to this, but only, and I mean ONLY, if I get to pick the movie, because I cannot handle your borderline-problematic obsession with Tom Cruise films or all things Lord of the Rings-adjacent.”

A smile spread at my response. “Deal.”

The final bell rang, alerting us to our collective tardy status, but Garrett didn’t even flinch. His reservations about my mental health outweighed potential detention, and in the strangest way, that thought made me smile.

A tiny light cut through my dark abyss. 

“I’ll text you later for details,” I said, releasing his hands. 

“I’ll stalk you if you don’t.”

I walked away quickly before the weight of the moment and Garrett’s watchful eye overwhelmed me. He wasn’t kidding and I knew it, and if I didn’t get my shit together fast, he’d stage a full-scale intervention, complete with sob stories and a plan of action to keep me from being a danger to myself. Because he loved me.

Because he was my best friend in the world.

By the end of the day, all I wanted to do was go home and numb out on the couch until I fell asleep. Unfortunately, my overwhelming late assignment load couldn’t allow for that. I’d been in the weeds since I set foot in Jasperville High School, and that situation had only gotten worse with every case I’d gotten sucked into. I needed to buckle down and attempt to focus, something my brain seemed thoroughly incapable of as of late, if I wanted any chance of getting caught up. Principal Thompson had kindly pointed out to me that my ability to graduate on time hung in the balance. And it would be such a shame to waste that full ride I’d been given to Ohio State, so pulling my head out of my ass was my only option.

I made a quick pit stop at my locker to regroup and get everything I needed for an evening of physics and English boredom, hoping to do so without having a concerned teacher or principal ‘just happen by’ in the process. They meant well, but their need to keep an eye on me was as unwarranted as it was annoying. Stealth was the name of the game. 

As I chucked books from my bag into the rusty metal locker, I heard a group of girls giggling and whispering nearby. I peeked past my locker door, expecting to see them looking my way, but instead I found them crowded together, reading something on one of their phones. The sheer joy on their faces was as surprising as it was foreign, and I stared at them, trying to remember what that carefree vibe felt like—remember a time when being asked to a dance or thinking about college was my heaviest burden. At the moment, they felt like distant memories, eclipsed by murder convictions, attempts on my life, and a conspiracy so deep I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to the bottom of it. Not alive, anyway.

With a heavy sigh, I went about gathering my books for the ever-looming mound of homework I’d face when I got home. I slammed my locker shut and heaved my massive bookbag onto my shoulder, the weight and momentum of it spinning me around 180 degrees—right into the path of AJ Miller.

Foiled by physics yet again.

He stopped the second our eyes met, and we stared at each other for longer than was comfortable. We hadn’t spoken since we’d broken up, not even after everything that had happened at the pageant. I could see in the depths of those bright green eyes that he wanted to say something—that his lack of contact with me had to do with so much more than anger—but there really wasn’t anything to say, and we both knew it. A hard line had been drawn in the sand when I chose my father’s chance at freedom (and my continued danger, as I was sure he would argue) over him, and there would be no coming back from that. I had hoped that eventually we could be friends again, but the pain in his expression said otherwise. 

There would be no going back. 

Just before my better judgment failed and I walked over to try and make amends, he dropped his gaze, turned on his heels, and stormed away without looking back. 

Swallowing down a well of emotions I had zero interest in dealing with, I darted down the nearest staircase and all but ran to the parking lot where Heidi, my not-so-trusty car, awaited. I made it to her without interference, which was a blessing all its own, and drove home as quickly as possible. Gramps wouldn’t be home until later, and I relished the idea of just being alone for a while. No scrutinizing eyes. No piteous looks. And no impending doom—except for my pile of homework. 

The dense clouds above made it much darker than normal, and I secretly wished I’d left a light on when I’d rushed out of the house that morning, late for school. Was I scared of the dark? No. Did I have an overactive imagination now, fed by real-life harrowing events that made me feel like I was scared of the dark? Yes. Yes, I did. 

And I hated it. 

Steeling myself with a few deep breaths, I got out of the car and made my way up the front porch steps to the door, keys in hand. I glanced back over my shoulder as I fumbled with the lock, half expecting (or hoping) to see Agent Dawson storming up the front yard with a file in his hand and a look of determination in his warm hazel eyes. But all I saw was the empty street. 

Then the key turned over and the door swung open. Once I was inside, I locked it up tight again. 

Gramps had left me some sort of casserole concoction in the fridge with a little note on top: I know you probably didn’t eat your lunch, so this had better be empty when I get home tonight. He’d signed it with a heart (and his poor attempt at a smiley face), which warmed mine in return. After all he’d been through, heart attack and all, he was still just worried about me. It made me realize the sacrifices parents made for their children—and their children’s children. 

My father’s reluctance to talk about his case finally began to make sense, which cemented the grim reality I’d been steeping in for weeks: he would never help me prove his innocence. Not really, anyway. And with the evidence lost with Manny Marazano’s death, prison was where Dad would stay for now. 

For me. 

To keep me safe. 

Endangering his life for mine; that was his burden to bear. Accepting that truth was mine; and it seemed an impossible task. 

Reheating dinner was not, though, so I tossed it into the microwave, sans note, and watched it spin around in a circle as the timer ticked down, wondering how I could ever come to terms with the fact that I would never hold my father again until he was older than Gramps—and that was only if he even survived the length of his incarceration. He’d had three ‘incidents’ last I’d checked, and though he said they had all been resolved, I didn’t believe him.

I wasn’t the only Danners capable of a bald-faced lie to serve a greater purpose. 

The shrill beeping of the ancient microwave ripped me from my downward spiral, and I pulled my dinner out, grabbed a fork, and plopped down on the couch in front of the TV where my bookbag lay on the coffee table like a bad omen. 

With a heavy sigh, I opened it up and pulled my physics textbook out, along with my phone. As if touching it had brought it to life, the screen flashed with an incoming call from Logan Hill Prison. 

I stared at it for a moment, heart in my throat, then swiped it away. Taking a call from my father was more reality than I could bear at that moment. Instead, I tossed it down next to the dinner I didn’t eat and the book I never opened, curled up under a blanket, and fell asleep.

To Be Continued…

VICTORY IS SWEET━VENGEANCE IS SWEETER.

After three failed attempts on Kylene’s life, it looks like the Advocatus Diaboli might finally be done hunting her.

Or not.

Sure, our girl’s had a couple weeks reprieve from near-death experiences to deal with the lost dream of freeing her father from prison, but when mob witnesses with potential information that could break her dad’s case wide open again start dropping like flies, Kylene and Agent Dawson find themselves right back in the thick of things—and all the danger that entails.

Only this time, they won’t escape its grasp.

BURN IT ALL DOWN, the fourth and final young adult mystery novel in the Hometown Antihero series by USA Today bestselling author Amber Lynn Natusch.

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Great news!

I will be signing at Apollycon 2025!

I’m looking forward to seeing lots of beautiful reader faces
and getting to chat books with all of you.

My books are now available for preorder for Apollycon 2025 attendees only. Preorders at a signing of this size are important to ensure there are copies available for you when you arrive at my table. Secure your book babies today!

Not attending Apollycon? If you’re not attending Apollycon 2025 and are just looking for signed paperbacks and hardcovers to be shipped to you, please click here to visit my Book Shop page.

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It’s finally here!!!

Okay, so I know it’s been a long time coming but I think it’ll be worth the wait. This series has had quite a journey from being sold to Macmillan’s Tor Teen in 2017 to publishing in hardcover (face out in brick and mortar stores) to my contract not being renewed to publish the final two books. That was a tough pill to swallow and nearly defeated me. But I love these characters and this story, so I rallied and managed to deliver the third book in 2022. The wait for the finale stemmed primarily from me waiting to retain rights to the series. I didn’t want to publish anything else until I was the one to profit from the sales of the first two books.

The second I got those back, it was game on.

Which leads us to today’s three-pronged news!!! A cover, a blurb, and a release date!

Victory is sweet━vengeance is sweeter.

After three failed attempts on Kylene’s life, it looks like the Advocatus Diaboli might finally be done hunting her.

Or not.

Sure, our girl’s had a couple weeks reprieve from near-death experiences to deal with the lost dream of freeing her father from prison, but when mob witnesses with potential information that could break her dad’s case wide open again start dropping like flies, Kylene and Agent Dawson find themselves right back in the thick of things—and all the danger that entails.

Only this time, they won’t escape its grasp.

BURN IT ALL DOWN, the fourth and final YA mystery novel in the Hometown Antihero series.

Coming March 6, 2025

Preorder Your Copy Now

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Burn It All Down sees Ky and Dawson in rare form and ready to bring the Advocatus Diaboli down. You get laughs, cries, and hopefully a satisfying ending. You might even swoon a time or two.

And if you’re looking for signed copies of the new cover paperbacks, be sure to keep an eye on my newsletter for alerts when they’re in stock.

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FREE October 18-20 Only!Stuff Your KindleWith 400+ FREE Fantasy Reads 400+ FREE Fantasy Reads 400+ FREE Fantasy Reads Welcome to Daglaar, Little Dragon…

In the land of Daglaar, there’s nothing the Nychterides distrust more than outsiders. Even Ariel, the general’s daughter, can’t escape her mother’s dragon heritage that brands her as one. But when her best friend and childhood protector tries to kill her, she’s sent to the land of the fae to live in isolation with her father’s ally.

Then four years later, she receives a mysterious letter, demanding her return.

Ariel quickly discovers the message that lured her home is just a symptom of the trouble brewing amongst her father’s army—and Hemming may be the only one she can turn to for help. But how is she supposed to trust the man who’s already turned against her once?

In a race against time to save her father, will her unsteady alliance be enough, or will the boy she once loved prove to be the greatest danger she’s about to face?

AN ECHO OF FIRE, the first romantic fantasy novel in the Fireheart series. Perfect for fans of Fourth Wing, dark intentions fuel this slow-burn fantasy romance where deadly secrets, epic journeys, and scorching enemies-to-lovers tension reign.

FREE October 18-20 Only!Get Your FREE Copy Today Amazon & Kindle Unlimited +Add It To Your TBR
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Haunted by burning questions about her past, Ariel and the love of her life, Hemming, flee the safety of the Midlands under the cover of darkness with her favorite fae spy in tow. As they venture deep into the heart of Anemosia for answers, a shocking discovery quickly derails their mission.

Anemosia—and its people—are dying.

And their survival rests solely on Ariel’s shoulders.

With few options, Ariel reluctantly turns to Eldrien, the current ruler of the Minyades, for aid. But Hemming’s distrust of the desperate leader and his ulterior motives forces Ariel and her lover to devise a ruse to hide their passion—one capable of fooling even the most discerning eye. They’ll need that and more to succeed on their perilous journey through a strange land filled with betrayal, deceit, and treachery to break the curse on Anemosia.

Their lives, and the lives of those they wish to save, depend on it.

AN EMBER OF CHAOS, the second romantic fantasy novel in the Fireheart series by USA Today bestselling author Amber Lynn Natusch.

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