It seems like just yesterday, we were talking about The Island. Oh wait, we were talking about it two days ago. Check out all the info, including the gorgeous cover, for Book 2, The Chasm!
They survived The Island, but can they cross The Chasm?
The Chasm is S. Usher Evans’ breathtaking, fast-paced follow-up to The Island, which readers say is “not to be missed.”
Buy the first book in the Madion War Trilogy today for Kindle, paperback, and hardcover, and see below for a special preorder promotion for The Chasm, coming July 12th.
Special SGR-Pub Preorder Promotion
“Sacrifices, of course, being the conscription of twelve-year-old children,” the Kylaen announcer said, cutting off the rest of the speech. “It’s just sickening how Tedwin Bayard continues to be heralded as a savior when he’s responsible for tens of thousands of deaths a year—”
I tuned out the rest of the conversation, too tired to get my blood pressure up at either Bayard or the announcer. As far as I was concerned, both were liars. Like most of Kylae, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the so-called president of our disputed colony and would’ve completely ignored the minute-long segment…
…if not for the beautiful Raven woman sitting just behind Bayard.
Her eyes were locked on some unseen point beyond the cameras. When I was marooned with her on an island in the northern Madion Sea, she’d been fiery, full of life and passion. But there wasn’t even a spark in her now. Compared to Bayard, who swayed and gestured on the podium in front of her, she looked like a wax doll.
I ran a hand over my face. The Kylaen news had moved on to another story—the trade agreement with Jervan—and I was left with my guilt and a half-eaten sandwich. It was midday, and I’d finally been able to spare a few minutes out of my busy shift at the hospital to eat lunch. Seeing Theo had stolen my appetite.
I couldn’t blame it all on the news report as I’d already been in a foul mood. After working the late shift two nights ago, I was now on an early shift. The back-and-forth shift-switching had been going on since since I’d returned to my residency, and I could barely tell if it was morning or afternoon anymore.
To make matters worse, my mother had been hounding me to attend some stupid function at the castle for some person who’d done some thing for Kylae—I couldn’t care less. Aside from the fact that state functions were my least favorite part of being the third prince of Kylae, I hadn’t set foot in the castle in over four months. I’d stormed out of a family dinner and told the king of Kylae to kiss my ass. It was a miracle I wasn’t in Mael, our prison to the north.
I glanced at the television again and wished they’d replay the Bayard segment. Days like today, when I was tired and miserable, all I wanted was to talk to her. In the short months we’d spent together, I’d become addicted to her counsel. Hers was the only opinion I cared for anymore, though I was pretty sure I knew how she’d feel about my progress so far.
Theo was home and she was safe, but the larger issues—the war and the Kylaen death camp at Mael—remained nagging issues in the back of my mind. I was no closer to finding a solution to either of them than when I’d started. To make matters worse, the days were passing too quickly for me, and the more time that slipped through my fingers…
“Helmuth, break’s over,” came a disgruntled voice from behind me.
Dr. Hebendon was my new attending physician. Dr. Maitland had either been asked or forced to take a six-month sabbatical to a hospital in the country of Herin. In his place, they’d sent Hebendon. Like most Herinese, he was tall and pale with jet-black hair that hung in a curtain around his face. I was pretty sure that despite not being Kylaen, he’d been given a royal decree to make my life miserable whenever I set foot in the hospital. Thus my skewed schedule and, of course, the special privilege of having the best cases.
“Janna needs you in room fifteen for another impaction,” he said, a twisted grin curling around his thin face.
I forced a tight smile onto my face so he wouldn’t know how completely sick I was of pulling shit out of asses.
Hebendon left, and I pushed myself to stand, tossing my sad sandwich in the trash. When I’d been on the island, I would’ve done anything to eat so much food.
Now I would’ve done anything to get those half-starved, beautiful days back.
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