Book 3—Even in the Dark

If you’ve kept up thus far, you know this trilogy started as a single story.

By the twenty-fifth chapter, I knew I had what felt like an endless amount more to say, but I was beginning to lose my way trying to bridge the gaps between scenes.

Then came the idea to give different parts of the story their own space, and the first two books took shape almost simultaneously.

Following the Stars went live nearly a month ago, on September 7th.

Under a Different Sky releases on November 1st.

And two weeks later, Book Three—Even in the Dark—will join them on November 15th.

The entire trilogy, available by mid-November.

I started this whole endeavor in late August.

Three books within three months.

Sometimes I feel as though I’m out of my mind undertaking something so big in such a short window.

But the words just keep coming.

Despite its fictional nature, I know this story.

It was loosely inspired by one I lived, of course.

People I knew.

Many of whom I still know.

And parts of the story were written as though my own experiences had worked out a little differently.

But Even in the Dark represents something different.

The familiar characters and memories are still there, but beneath them is an emotional landscape I wanted to explore more honestly.

The third novel follows Lucy into the final part of her story and asks her to face a reality I think many readers will recognize:

Surviving never promises the absence of heartache.

You can love the life you’ve built and still struggle to find your place in it. You can be loved deeply and still have days when ordinary things feel impossibly difficult.

I’ve spent two books giving readers reasons to hope for Lucy—to want her to trust herself, find love, and build a life that feels like her own.

In Even in the Dark, we get to spend time in that life.

The quiet mornings. The familiar friendships. The small, practical ways people show up for one another.

And the moments when everything we thought would be enough meets something we never knew we would have to carry.

This is a story about grief, love, and learning how to keep living when the way forward feels unfamiliar. Writing it has meant allowing Lucy to be happy without asking that happiness to resolve every part of her.

My hope is that readers will find room for themselves in that honesty.

Especially those who have ever looked at a life they were grateful for and wondered why they were still having such a hard time.

This part of Lucy’s story is for you, too.

Even in the Dark
November 15th