Sent agent email with proposed title of new book (fka Devil’s West #2). Have not yet gotten panicked “oh god no that’s horrible no!” response.
Next up: editor.
Here, have some non-spoilery bits:
The â€˜postâ€™ wasnâ€™t a post at all, not like sheâ€™d been expecting. Instead, there was a collection of bones hung on the stockade wall, some held there by thick rusty nails, others seemingly wedged into the wood like theyâ€™d grown there. Some were the size of her hand, others longer, some bleached white and others crackling-brown with age and weather, and Isobel reached out her own hand to touch one, only to pull her fingers back as though sheâ€™d been slapped.
â€œWhat is this?â€
Louâ€™s brows drew together in confusion, her head tilting as she looked first at Isobel, then at the bones, then back at Isobel. â€œThe wards,â€ as though a child should have known that.