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Demon's Dawn
Not yet published
Expected 11 Nov 26I was a schoolteacher.
Now I’m dead.
One minute I’m grading papers and trying to convince a room full of teenagers that Shakespeare isn’t torture. The next I wake up on a cold mountainside with a burning pain on my back and a pair of black wings tattooed across my skin.
Apparently dying was just my recruitment letter.
The Valkyrie training camps are brutal, the other women are warriors reborn, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never held a sword, I hate running, and the only battle I’ve ever fought was over confiscated cell phones.
But the afterlife doesn’t care about what I used to be.
Especially not him.
The first face I see is a massive Viking warrior with scarred hands, storm gray eyes, and the personality of a thunderclap. He says he’s from Valhalla. He says I don’t belong here.
He also refuses to leave my side.
If I survive the training, I’ll become a Valkyrie. If I fail, I’ll disappear like the others who couldn’t endure it.
Either way, the warrior watching me like I’m both a problem and a promise might be the most dangerous thing in this new world.
Because the more I learn about Valhalla, the more I realize something is very wrong.
And the gruff Viking who insists he doesn’t care about me may be the only one willing to burn the heavens to keep me alive.
The Valkyrie camps are not for the weak.
They are not for the gentle.
And they are certainly not for a mortal schoolteacher who looks at a battlefield like she’s wandered into the wrong classroom.
The moment I see the wings burned into her skin, I know something is wrong.
The gods do not make mistakes.
Yet here she stands. Soft where warriors should be hardened. Stubborn where fear should live. And somehow surviving trials that have broken women twice her size.
I tell myself I’m only watching because something about her doesn’t add up.
I tell myself it’s duty.
But every day she fights, every time she refuses to quit, every moment those stubborn eyes meet mine, the lie gets harder to believe.
She thinks she died and woke up in the wrong afterlife.
What she doesn’t know is that the mark on her back is older than the gods themselves.
And if the Allfather discovers what she truly is, Valhalla will not train her.
They will destroy her.
Which means if the gods want her dead…
They will have to go through me first.
Now I’m dead.
One minute I’m grading papers and trying to convince a room full of teenagers that Shakespeare isn’t torture. The next I wake up on a cold mountainside with a burning pain on my back and a pair of black wings tattooed across my skin.
Apparently dying was just my recruitment letter.
The Valkyrie training camps are brutal, the other women are warriors reborn, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never held a sword, I hate running, and the only battle I’ve ever fought was over confiscated cell phones.
But the afterlife doesn’t care about what I used to be.
Especially not him.
The first face I see is a massive Viking warrior with scarred hands, storm gray eyes, and the personality of a thunderclap. He says he’s from Valhalla. He says I don’t belong here.
He also refuses to leave my side.
If I survive the training, I’ll become a Valkyrie. If I fail, I’ll disappear like the others who couldn’t endure it.
Either way, the warrior watching me like I’m both a problem and a promise might be the most dangerous thing in this new world.
Because the more I learn about Valhalla, the more I realize something is very wrong.
And the gruff Viking who insists he doesn’t care about me may be the only one willing to burn the heavens to keep me alive.
The Valkyrie camps are not for the weak.
They are not for the gentle.
And they are certainly not for a mortal schoolteacher who looks at a battlefield like she’s wandered into the wrong classroom.
The moment I see the wings burned into her skin, I know something is wrong.
The gods do not make mistakes.
Yet here she stands. Soft where warriors should be hardened. Stubborn where fear should live. And somehow surviving trials that have broken women twice her size.
I tell myself I’m only watching because something about her doesn’t add up.
I tell myself it’s duty.
But every day she fights, every time she refuses to quit, every moment those stubborn eyes meet mine, the lie gets harder to believe.
She thinks she died and woke up in the wrong afterlife.
What she doesn’t know is that the mark on her back is older than the gods themselves.
And if the Allfather discovers what she truly is, Valhalla will not train her.
They will destroy her.
Which means if the gods want her dead…
They will have to go through me first.
Kindle Edition
Expected publication November 11, 2026
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