I’ve been so pleased to see how well THE DEAD AND THE DARK has been doing out in the world. We’ve sold foreign rights in both France and Russia, the paperback will be releasing on 9/20/2022, and reviews continue to roll in steadily over time. Recently, I noticed that TDATD was close to 5,000 ratings, an achievement many books never reach, and I was stunned. I began drafting another story with Logan and Ashley at the center. Not a full book, but just a little slice of their life on the road after the events of THE DEAD AND THE DARK.

I’d like to share that story with you now as a thank you for all your continued support and love. If you enjoy, please feel free to share this story with your friends.

Logan Ortiz-Woodley was not a Florida kind of girl.  

On every level, the state disagreed with her. Too hot, but the wet kind of hot. Within an hour of leaving their motel in the morning, the small of her back was soaked through with sweat that even a good shower wouldn’t fully fix. The sun was fat and low on the horizon, nearly orange and hazy with heat. Unlike in Snakebite, the wind here didn’t help. The bugs were too big, the weather was too erratic, the roads were too bumpy, the colors were too bright. It took all her willpower to sit in silence, swallowing her complaints so as not to kill the mood.  

If it weren’t for the girl sitting next to her, masterfully steering her ancient truck down endless highway, Logan would call the whole trip a wash.  

“I’m just saying, I didn’t feel sick until we got here.” 

“Yes, you did,” Ashley laughed. “You’ve been sniffling for days.” 

“Um, that’s different.” Logan adjusted the strap of her sandal, simultaneously taking a massive bite of her donut. “Those were happy sniffles. I was clearly just tearing up at your beauty.” 

Ashley rolled her eyes, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. Logan reached across her seat, taking a loose strand of Ashley’s hair in her fingers, twisting it gently around her fingers. The sun bore down on the truck, thick as syrup in the humidity. Even in October, the heat sweltered, shimmering on the black pavement. The green of the grass on either side of the highway was lush and endless, palms swaying calmly in the balmy wind. The Ford bumped and hiccupped its way over potholes and dips in the highway, scattering gold light over the dusty dash.  

“I feel like you’re getting blonder.” 

“I feel like you’re just trying to get out of this,” Ashley mused. “But you owe me. We went to all your stops and I never used my veto.” 

“My stops were fun,” Logan clarified. “And I haven’t used my veto yet, either.” 

Ashley leaned into the curve of the highway, earning a low groan from the Ford. “Yes, you did.” 

“When?” 

“The John Deere Museum.” 

Logan scoffed, earning her a playful smack on the leg. “Okay, I want you to repeat that. Should I have had to use my only veto on the John Deere Museum?” 

“You’re such a bully.” 

Logan smiled and leaned back in her seat, letting the sticky-hot sunlight wash over her. They’d already stopped at dozens of places on the trip so far, from old cemeteries to giant rubber band balls. They’d eaten America’s biggest steak in Texas (or rather, Ashley ate the steak while Logan decimated a titan-sized bowl of cheese curds.) They’d rolled through hundreds of tiny towns, each one identical to the last. And in each town, Logan found herself watching Ashley, the wash of sunlight over her freckled cheeks and the slight tilt of her smile, waiting for her to get tired of this life. She waited, sure that Ashley would hit her limit of motel breakfasts and rest stop candy bars, each day crawling into the next, but it was the opposite. Each day on the road, it was like Ashley was waking up, seeing the world in color again. Now here they were on the opposite end of the country, and miraculously, and neither of them had tried to eject themselves from the truck yet. Uncharacteristically, Logan found herself fostering a seedling of optimism in her chest.   

They took another curve in the highway and the crowded palms fell away, revealing the first urban sprawl of Fort Lauderdale on the horizon. Logan sucked in a sharp breath through a plugged nose and leaned back in her seat, desperate to grab a few sacred minutes of sleep before what was sure to be a packed day. If she were the one planning their itinerary in the great state of Florida, she would dedicate the entire day to laying on the beach with Ashley, one hand laid over the other, letting the rolling crash of distant waves lull them to sleep. But Ashley, a Barton to the end, didn’t believe in ‘lazy days.’ Every city they visited, Ashley had a list of places they could go and sights they could see. She was simultaneously Logan’s favorite person and her greatest tormentor.  

They drove in silence down the main drag of Fort Lauderdale before pulling into the expansive parking lot of their next stop. Ashley turned off the truck and fixed Logan with a questioning look, one blonde brow raised.  

Logan reached over and pat her once on the leg. “Okay. Let’s go. And if you ever question how much I like you, remember today.” 

 * * * 

Butterfly World. 

Ashley shifted from one foot to the other, anxious to move up in the admission line. Her legs ached to move after almost a full day of driving. She stretched her arms high overhead, yawning loud enough to draw the attention of the family in front of them. Next to her, Logan studied a map of Butterfly World with her dark brows furrowed, her focus so intent Ashley thought she might’ve seen a dark secret between the plant shop and café. She was in a classically Logan outfit – black turtleneck, jeans, and boots and an overlarge denim jacket. For all the times she’d complained about the heat since wading into the South, she’d made no attempts to dress for the weather. That was Logan Ortiz-Woodley, though, more likely to expect the weather itself to accommodate than change her own aesthetic.  

“So is the main goal here to see the butterflies?” Logan asked. “It looks like there’s a ton of exhibits.” 

“Yeah, and we’re going to all of them,” Ashley said.  

“You’re a villain.” 

When they finally made it to the main ticket kiosk, the tour guide gave a rundown of how the museum worked: take a Q-tip, dip it in sugar water, and wait for the magic to start. Years ago, Ashley drove all the way across Oregon to go to the state fair. Before she waded into the open road with Logan, it was the furthest she’d ever been from home. It was her first trip without her mother, too, with Tristan driving and Ashley in the passenger’s seat, Fran, Bug, John, and Paul all crowding the back of Mrs. Granger’s minivan. They’d spent the entire afternoon darting between rides and games, taking pictures of each other petting sheep and eating funnel cakes, and while the others wound down at the Ferris wheel, Tristan had whisked her off to the butterfly garden. It’s one of the last little slices of normal Ashley could remember tasting before her life turned upside down. It was strange to think of how many people in that van were gone now. The emptiness of the memory made her dizzy. 

That’s what she needed now, too. A little bit of normal.  

After the kiosk, Ashley and Logan slipped into the main dome of Butterfly World. Gardens opened onto more gardens, which opened onto smaller exhibits of preserved insects, rare flowers, and lily ponds full of frogs and fish. Compared to the other places they’d stopped so far, this was more casual. Logan would call it a ‘tourist trap.’ But there was a piece of Logan, Ashley thought, that enjoyed being seen like this. She enjoyed slipping their hands together, fingers intertwined, letting anyone passing by know that they were here together. Together.  

Ashley was getting braver at this, too. She was getting better at being a girl who liked girls after spending the rest of her almost-two-decades being a girl who thought she liked boys. Whatever hang-ups she had about saying goodbye to the old Ashley went away when she felt the warm fit of Logan’s hand against hers. This was right; it was the rightest she’d ever felt.  

After their third rare flower garden in a row, Logan stopped abruptly in the middle of the walkway. “Okay, I want to see butterflies. Where are the butterflies?” 

“We’re supposed to go clockwise,” Ashley mused. She took Logan’s hand and led her to a plastic picnic table in the middle of the dome. Carefully, she laid their map flat across the surface, drawing a line with her pointer finger around the outer rim of the park. “We started with bugs and we’re working our way around. We finish with butterflies.” 

“Is there a rule saying we have to go in order?” 

“Yes,” Ashley said. “The rule is made by me. I say we have to.” 

“Okay, Captain.” Logan’s mouth tugged into a reluctant smile. “You sound like your mom, by the way. Bossing me around.” 

“I’m not bossing you around.” 

“You are,” Logan said. “But it’s cute on you.” 

Ashley playfully shoved Logan in the shoulder. Logan drifted back to her, slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Ashley took Logan’s face in her hands, looked her in her dark eyes for a moment, and then pressed their lips together. There was something special about kissing Logan that made the rest of the world fall away. Even if it was just for a moment stolen between words, it was enough to make Ashley’s heart race. When she pulled away, her cheeks burned.  

“Fine,” Logan said. “We can go in your order.” 

They continued through the exhibits of Butterfly World, and it wasn’t until they reached the Birds of Paradise garden that Ashley noticed their visitor. In the corner of the exhibit, partially hiding behind a squat palm, a little boy watched them. There was something distinct about him, like the light hit him differently than everyone else in the park. At first, Ashley ignored the boy, but in each new exhibit, when she turned, she saw him. He reminded her of the little boys that ran out to help their fathers on farms back home, with short brown hair and eyes too big for his little head. The longer Ashley looked at him, the harder it was to look away.  

“Hey,” Ashley whispered to Logan halfway between the koi pond and the aviary. Subtly, she motioned to the boy, who was ducked behind a tree trunk with dark eyes trained on them. “I think we have a fan.” 

Logan turned to look. “Where?” 

“Behind the tree,” Ashley said. “Look close. He’s hiding.” 

Logan stared for a few moments longer, then looked at Ashley. Her expression softened and she shook her head. “I don’t see anyone.” 

“Oh.” 

“You’re sure?” Logan asked. “What does he look like?” 

Ashley pressed her hand to her forehead. Half of the reason they went on this road trip was to help find and release ghosts, just like Logan’s fathers before her. But in all of the towns they’d visited, all the cemeteries they’d driven through, all the haunted little places they’d landed, they hadn’t actually seen any ghosts yet. Ashley had forgotten how odd it felt, looking at something both here and gone. The longer she looked at the boy, the more certain she was that they were looking at their first ghost on the road. The magnetism of it was suffocating; the boy needed her to see him. Ashley felt his desperation, even from yards away.  

“I’m sure,” Ashley said. “He’s a little boy. Maybe eight or so? You know what this is, though.” 

Logan stepped in front of Ashley, looking into her face with a brow raised. “I’m not doubting you or anything, but seriously? Here?” 

“I know.” 

“No ghosts in Tombstone, but watch out for Butterfly World. It’s extremely haunted.” 

“We should help him,” Ashley said. She looked away from the boy, stared into Logan’s face. “Right? That’s what we said we would do?” 

“What happened to going in order?” Logan said through a laugh.  

Ashley rolled her eyes. She made her way across the walking bridge, closer to where the boy hid. Up close, it was clear that he was only half there. The outline of him was cloudy and hard to make out, but his face was clear. The round of his cheeks shone where he’d been crying. He was the opposite of Tristan’s ghost, whose face was always hidden from her, no matter the angle. A thousand questions flooded her – did he die here at Butterfly World? Would it be just like the ghosts in Snakebite? Would he only be released when they found his body? The implications of it were haunting.  

When she got closer to the boy, he ducked further behind his tree trunk, hiding his little face from sight.  

“Hey,” Ashley said. “Hey, are you okay?” 

The boy didn’t move. His little fingers curled around the base of the tree trunk, but he remained completely still.  

Logan met Ashley, tenderly placing a hand on her back. “Is this a cooperative ghost? Are we thinking a quick fix, or is this a full murder mystery plot? Because I didn’t really emotionally account for spending that long at Butterfly World, to be honest.” 

“I don’t know, yet,” Ashley said. She turned back to the boy. “You were watching us. Because you know we can help you, right?” 

The boy peeked from behind the trunk with watery eyes, his lips in a small pout. He looked at Ashley, then at Logan, and nodded. Hordes of tourists shuffled back and forth across the walking bridge, laughing loudly and popping from exhibit to exhibit, but the longer Ashley looked at the boy, the park went quiet. She was alone, the cold beginning to seep in despite the warmth of the Florida sun pressing down through the glass dome.  

“Can you talk?” Ashley asks.  

The boy stared.  

Next to them, Logan grabbed her bag, shuffling through it for her phone. She kept digging until she unearthed a small, chipped device. Ashley’s sigh of relief was so great she nearly deflated. The Scripto 8G. Not a perfect solution, but it would be enough to start.  

Once Logan had the device fired up, Ashley turned back to the boy.  

“Okay. Can you think about how you got here?” 

The boy looked at Logan’s phone, pressing his finger to his mouth. He was so much more live than the other ghosts Ashley had seen. She wasn’t sure she could handle finding out what had happened to him, especially not with the way death had been a frequent visitor in her life these last few months. She wanted to do something good today. She wanted to help someone.  

After a moment, Logan’s phone dinged.  

SCRIPTO: Mom here.  

Logan angled the phone to Ashley, and she shook her head. Unlike Tristan who spoke to hem mainly in locations, it made sense that a little boy’s thoughts would be more scattered, harder to wrangle.  

“Can you tell me your name?” 

Again, Logan’s phone dinged.  

SCRIPTO: Connor.  

“Connor,” Ashley said with a smile. “You said your mom is here? Is she here right now?” 

Connor’s ghost put his arms down and began swinging them around at his sides. Ashley turned to watch Logan’s phone, but nothing happened. A part of Ashley feared that this was different from the others in a way that was outside her skillset. Alejo had been looking at ghosts his whole life when he taught her the basics, but sometimes, it was like Ashley was still seeing ghosts with training wheels on. She didn’t know the right questions to ask or how to get to the bottom of things.  

“Ask him if something happened to him here,” Logan whispered. “I know it’s tough, but that might be specific enough.” 

“I...” Ashley trailed.  

Logan took Ashley’s hand and squeezed. “I’m here. It’s okay.” 

Ashley nodded.  

“Connor,” she said, soft as she could manage, “Did something happen to you here? Something bad?” 

Connor blinked. He looked at Logan’s phone, which lit up with a new message.  

SCRIPTO: Not here. Bad happened at home. Back home. Came here with Mom. Bad at home. 

“Bad at home?” Ashley asked. “What does that mean?” 

“I’m more worried about came here with mom,” Logan said. “Can ghosts... follow people? I thought there were kind of tied to a specific place.” 

“I thought so, too.” Ashley turned back to Connor and donned her sweetest smile. “Connor, is your mom here now?” 

She didn’t need the Scripto to understand Connor’s answer. He nodded, pointing across the park to one of the small gardens they already visited, where a crowd gathered around a fountain. Ashley looked at Logan, who shrugged, then looked back to Connor. The ghost of a lost little boy searching for his mother in a park jam-packed with people. It’s wasn't exactly how Ashley anticipated their date going, but if there’s anything they learned in Snakebite, it’s that nothing ever goes the way you plan, and it certainly doesn’t go the way you imagine. 

* * * 

They found little Connor’s family quicker than Logan anticipated.  

Ashley trailed along behind what Logan could only imagine was a passably adorable small child, periodically looking over her shoulder to prompt Logan to keep walking. The thing was, Logan wasn’t sure she wanted to help this particular ghost, not because she thought he didn’t deserve it, but because she wasn’t sure what help would look like in this scenario. Were they supposed to find a body? No, because the boy’s body wasn’t here at Butterfly World. Were they supposed to reunite him with his mother? Logan desperately did not want to have to play medium to an unsuspecting grieving mother. They didn’t even know how long Connor had been dead. Maybe it’d been decades already and his mother was a wizened old woman who would certainly not appreciate the reminder of her long-dead son.  

This was the downside of having anxiety. While Ashley followed Connor, Logan followed her spiraling thoughts into a deep pit of despair.  

When they reached the fountain in the Tropical Flowers Garden, Ashley stopped short. She crouched next to Connor, and her gaze fell on a small family gathering themselves on one of the empty park benches.  

“Is that them?” Logan asked.  

“I think so,” Ashley said. “That’s where he’s pointing.” 

The family was a small unit, a mother and father and a small boy. If she had to guess, Logan would assume that Connor probably looked like an exact replica of the boy standing before them. Short brown hair, slightly mussed by an adult steering him, his striped t-shirt only half tucked into his jeans. The mother reached into a fanny pack and pulled a small jerky stick free, handing it to the little boy with a sweet smile.  

Logan frowned. At some point, they’d lost a child, an older brother the littlest one would never know. Even now, Logan could see it in their faces. She’d seen it before.  

“What does he want us to do?” Logan asked. “Tell them, what? Little Connor is still with them? I just don’t think it’s a good idea to-” 

“No.” Ashley turned, angled herself to face Connor, and she nodded. She took Logan’s hand. “I think I just need to talk to him for a second. About his family. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah.” Logan squeezed her hand. “Yeah. Do what you need to do.” 

Ashley cleared her throat. “Connor, you were so brave coming here with your family. Were you watching out for them? I don’t know how you did it, but you followed them because you care about them so much, right?” 

The pieces clicked into place for Logan. She ran her thumb over the back of Ashley’s hand. All this talk of death and moving on and families wasn’t easy for either of them. It would take both of them to get little Connor home. Even if Logan couldn’t see him or speak to him, she could feel him. She could feel the hurt in his heart, and the way he clung to what memories he still had.  

Logan was lucky – she got to come back.  

Connor wouldn’t get that chance.  

“Do you see you have a little brother now? Your mom and dad will take care of him just like they wanted to take care of you, and he’s going to protect them when he gets bigger. And even though it hurts them, they’ll be okay.” Ashley’s voice shook a little as she spoke. “Because, Connor, it hurts you to stay here. Don’t you want to sleep now? I know it’s hard to say goodbye to the life you knew really well, but it’s better, too. Let them learn to live, and you can sleep.” 

This wasn’t just about Connor. It wasn’t even about Tristan and Bug and the others they’d lost in Snakebite. This was about Ashley and the hole she’d left in Snakebite. Logan had wondered these last several weeks if Ashley mourned for Snakebite and the life she left behind. Of course, Ashley wasn’t dead, but to Snakebite she might as well be. They would grieve the girl they thought they knew, having their own silent funerals in her wake. Logan wondered if Ashley had her own silent funeral for Snakebite – she wondered if Ashley had any regrets.  

Logan lost so much of her own childhood to the Dark, but now she had time to make something new. Ashley had something she thought was perfect for her, a life she fit into like a glove, and now she had to navigate the world without it.  

“He’s gone,” Ashley said. She wiped a tear from cheek, sucked in a breath, and stood. “That worked. Thank you.” 

Logan kept her hand around Ashley’s wrist. Gently, she pulled her into a hug, resting her chin against Ashley’s shoulder. Ashley sighed and relaxed into her, curling her arms around Logan’s shoulders. For a moment, they breathed together and didn’t say a word. Finally, Logan said, “That was really nice. Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’m okay,” Ashley said. “You know what would make me feel better?” 

Logan pulled away with a brow raised. Ashley wasn’t one who usually said risque things in public. Before she could question her, though, Ashley smiled.  

“Butterflies. Now.” 

* * * 

Finally, they made it to the butterfly garden.  

Ashley stopped in front of the dome, plucking out a Q-Tip for each of them. Her eyes were heavy and her mind spun in the aftermath of helping little Connor, but this was the point of coming here. Exhausted or not, she was going to enjoy some butterflies. She’d just helped a spirit pass on. She was fairly certain she deserved a little peace.  

The butterfly garden was a thousand times bigger than the one at the State Fair. White and pink trees stretched to the top of the glass dome, and flowers the color of sunset spread on each side of the white-stone walkways. Where the garden had been packed moments earlier, it was relatively quiet by the time she Ashley and Logan made it inside. On the back of the map, Ashley reviewed the different types of butterflies present.  

She took Logan’s hand in hers and extended her arm out, presenting her sugared Q-Tip to any butterflies nearby. A couple of butterflies darted around at her wrist but didn’t manage to land. Dejected, Ashley moved her arm up, then down, and each time the butterflies scattered away from her. 

“Um,” Logan said from behind her.  

Ashley turned and immediately grinned. A massive butterfly, black and orange in color, perched on the tip of Logan’s nose, its wings brushing the round of her cheeks as it adjusted itself. Logan was cross-eyed looking the butterfly’s long wings.  

“Don’t move,” Ashley said, unearthing her phone from her pocket. “I’m serious.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Ashley snapped a picture of Logan with the butterfly, then gently slipped her Q-Tip against Logan’s nose, lifting the butterfly away. They spent the better part of an hour with the butterfly, passing it between them, posing and take pictures with it. And even if they weren’t swarmed like Ashley had hoped they would be, this was perfect. Just her and the girl she was beginning to love, sharing something small and wonderful. On their way out of the park, Ashley spotted Connor’s family leaving together, their young son tucked in his father’s arms fast asleep. There was a relief in their face, Ashley was sure. Maybe it was their turn to rest, too.  

* * * 

Logan was silent most of the way to the Ford. Ashley walked at her side, knocking shoulders with her, slipping their hands together as they walked. The parking lot was mostly empty now, and sunset leaked over the city-spotted horizon like an oil spill. The air was hot and dense like it was in the morning, but a cool breeze kept Ashley awake.  

Logan was a terrible driver. She would need to be awake enough to at least get the to a motel. 

Back in the truck, Ashley reached to put her keys in the ignition, but Logan stopped her. She turned to face Ashley and her face was awash with red light.  

“The stuff you said to Connor back there,” Logan said, “About being sad that the world is moving on without you...” 

“Oh,” Ashley said. “That.” 

She nestled into her seat and looked down. She’d hoped that Logan would just let it slide, but that was the thing about having a girlfriend known for her quick wit. Nothing ever quite slipped past her. And Ashley wasn’t sure she wanted it to slide by. They’d talked about so many things these nights they’d spent out of Snakebite, but they hadn’t talked about this. The Ashley she left behind. The one who died with Tristan. 

“Do you feel... sad? That you left?” 

“No, not really,” Ashley said. “But there’s something weird about having your whole life so clear in your head and then making a decision that just... gets rid of all of it. I don’t regret it, but sometimes I think about how far I am from what twelve-year-old Ashley imagined, you know?” 

Logan smiled, but it was bittersweet. She placed her hand on Ashley’s knee, rubbing small circles in Ashley’s skin. “Kind of. I mean, before Snakebite, my plan was to just be alone. And now I’m stuck with you. Super disappointing.” 

“We’re having a moment,” Ashley huffed, fighting back her smile. “Can we be genuine for a second?” 

Logan nodded.  

“I’m happy to be here, and I’m feeling better every day. I don’t think it’ll happen all at once, but there’s this thing about you. You... I don’t know. When bad things happen to me, I don’t feel it as much with you.” 

Something in that moved a piece of Logan. It was in the glassy dark of her eyes, a softening. Ashley took Logan’s face in her hands, held her the way she’d gotten used to, and she kissed her sweetly as the sunset deepened to night. Because getting better doesn’t happen all at once. It’s a process, and there Ashley stood on the first step, looking out for miles. But she wasn’t alone. And with Logan, there was joy in each step.  

They pulled out of the parking lot of Butterfly World, turned onto the highway, and disappeared into the sweltering night.