It’s time to find out why she has this power.

Siobhan seeks out the Oracle and learns that only her Sight can help

mankind navigate the travails of an ancient war. Our world is the prize

in a battle between the dragons, who would defend us, and Lucifer’s
fallen angels, who seek to take the Earth for themselves. Using her
gift, she will have to make a choice that will decide humanity’s
future.

On a personal level she loves spicy food, twilight, dark chocolate (with
sea salt-yum!) and nickel slots at Vegas. Erika lives for time with
friends, a nice glass of red wine, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” &
“Doctor Who” and good conversation. Her favorite things to do are
running, cooking, reading, needlework, gardening… and of course,
writing. Erika’s music of choice is heavy metal. To pick her out in a
lineup you should know that she is very short, fairly loud, and has
dark eyebrows. The rest, as her hero Anne McCaffrey once said in her
bio, “is subject to change without notice”.

Erika resides in Northern California with her incredibly hot husband, their
three amazing kids, and their chocolate Labrador named Selkie. To
reach Erika regarding her books, wine recommendations, or to debate
which Iron Maiden album is the best (clearly, it’s Brave New World)

The memory has haunted me for years.

In the middle of a bright California summer, dark days came. My mother and grandparents spoke in hushed, serious voice, arguing about my absent father. Was it my fault he left? A soft whimper escaped my throat and my eyes burned. I needed a hug, but no one paid any attention to me that day.  So I ran away to the refuge of my grandparents’ garden where I could hide among its statues and flowers.

My eyes lingered over the familiar garden ornaments. I passed the old birdbath, the statues of gnomes, and a cheerful squirrel. I ran one hand over the stone deer. Its brown paint had faded from years under the sun. Walking with quick steps down the gravel path, I made my way to the center of the garden, my special spot where my favorite statue waited.

A gnarled apricot tree grew there.  Right now it was covered with tiny green apricots. Later in the summer the sweet fruit I loved would ripen. I would get to pick them with my parents, no, just with my mother. My lip trembled. My father wouldn’t be here.

The bright-green dragon lay curled at the foot of the apricot tree, partially covered by vines. My mother called the color jade green—the same shade as my eyes. As a child she talked to all the statues, but I only spoke to the dragon. I named her Daisy. Sitting down next to her now, the tears welled up at last, spilling over my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around my legs, making myself into a little ball of five year old misery.

“Child, why are you sad?” said a woman’s voice.

“Who said that?” I asked, wiping my cheek.

“I did.”

“Where are you?” I stood and peered at the plants and statues around me.

“Right here.”

“Are not,” I retorted.

A soft laugh filled the air and the woman spoke again. “Perhaps you are right. Easy enough to fix, I suppose.”

The breeze picked up. The space beneath the apricot tree shimmered. Ripples warped the air like the heat over the barbecue when my father cooked. The sweet notes of wind chimes filled the yard. Grandma and Grandpa didn’t have any wind chimes. I whirled around to find the noise.

Under the branches appeared an enormous green dragon’s head.