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Dark academia. Forbidden love. Ancient bloodlines. A lie that began in the first garden.
I’m so excited to announce that These Lessons Are Merciless is now available for preorder!
This next book in the Veil of Shadows world follows Yelena, a college student trying to finish school while strange memories, dangerous dreams, and ancient darkness begin closing in around her. Then Professor Jasper Hawthorne walks into her art history class—beautiful, controlled, and far too familiar.
He is her professor.
She is his student.
And every rule between them is starting to burn.
But Yelena’s story is bigger than forbidden attraction. Her blood remembers something old. Something powerful. Something tied to angels, demons, reincarnation, Peabody Library, the Forbidden Archives, and a darkness that has been searching for her since the beginning.
If you love dark fantasy romance, gothic academia, dangerous angels, ancient curses, blood bonds, forbidden romance, and heroines who discover they were never the monster in the story, this one is for you.
You can preorder These Lessons Are Merciless on Amazon here:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HFQ11SZX
Signed books are also available through the Midnight Ledger shop here:
https://midnightledgerbooks.com/products/these-lessons-are-merciless
Thank you so much for continuing to support the Veil of Shadows world. I cannot wait for you to step inside Peabody Library, meet Yelena and Jasper, and discover what comes next.
These Lessons Are Merciless
Chapter 1 Preview:
The classroom smelled faintly of turpentine and charcoal. Yelena sat near the tall windows, sketchbook open, pencil resting loosely between her fingers as she studied the still life arranged at the center of the room. There was a cracked porcelain bowl, a length of emerald-green satin fabric, and a single apple, split just enough to show the pale flesh inside.
She hadn’t drawn a single line. She’d expected a professor to be here since it wasn’t a self-study class. There was no conversation, no guidance. Yelena sighed.
The overhead lights hummed softly, flickering once. Outside, the sky was gray. Yelena shifted in her seat, rolling her shoulders, trying to shake away the strange, tingling sensation that was crawling along her spine.
Drip.
She frowned slightly and glanced around. Students murmured, chairs scraped, someone laughed too loudly in the back.
Drip.
Her chest tightened. She glanced around the room and noticed a dripping sink. Someone must have forgotten to turn the handle all the way off after cleaning paint brushes.
“Earth to Yelena.” An elbow nudged her side.
She blinked and turned her head. Mara Quinn grinned, a smear of graphite streaked across her cheek like war paint.
“You’ve been staring at that apple like it personally offended you,” Mara said. “You gonna draw it, or are you waiting for it to confess its secrets first?”
Yelena huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Dangerous hobby. Thinking that hard is gonna get you in trouble.”
Mara leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to sound conspiratorial. “Also, you might want to start thinking faster because this project is due soon.” She tapped her sketchbook.
“The professor hasn’t been here in two days,” Yelena said. “Maybe we should drop this class.”
The classroom door opened. Conversation dimmed and attention shifted in a slow ripple toward the front of the room. Mara’s elbow hit her again, harder this time.
“Oh,” she whispered, not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. “Okay. New instructor? That is not what I was expecting.”
Yelena exhaled slowly. “What?” she murmured, distracted.
Mara reached out, gripped Yelena by the chin and tilted her head. “Just look what the gods sent us. You wanted a professor, you got one. Hot damn. Good work, Lena.”
Yelena focused on the front of the classroom and the world narrowed. He stood near the desk in the front of the room, one hand resting lightly against the edge as if grounding himself. Messy, light brown hair. A scruffy beard. There was something familiar…
He glanced up and their eyes met and for a single, suspended moment, everything else fell away. The hum of the lights. The scrape of chairs.
Mara whispered something under her breath that sounded exactly like, “Jesus, he’s hot.” It all faded beneath the weight of that look, like the world had narrowed to a single, impossible point. Recognition hit and her fingers curled against the edge of her sketchbook.
He looked away first and turned slightly, addressing the room as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just split a flood of emotions open inside her chest. As if they didn’t already know each other.
“Good afternoon,” he said, voice calm and deep.
That voice. It had just been a few weeks since her world was thrown upside down. And he was at the center of it. Maybe not the absolute center but he was highly involved. She remembered the cold room, the dripping water, the cord around her wrists, the Magpie’s voice, and Jasper appearing.
Yelena still treated it as the night that her life had stopped making sense. She remembered enough to know it had happened, but not enough to trust the order of events or even what it truly meant. That uncertainty was the cruelest part.
“I’ll be taking over this course for the remainder of the term.” He adjusted his glasses then turned and wrote his name on the chalkboard:
Professor Hawthorne
Mara leaned in again, whispering, “Okay, I take it back. I’m suddenly very passionate about art. This is my favorite class.”
Yelena’s focus stayed fixed on him and the careful way he avoided looking at her. Her pulse thudded, slow and heavy.
“You’ve been watched for a very long time, little phoenix.” The words brushed the edge of her thoughts.
At the front of the room, Professor Hawthorne paused. “Professor…,” he reached for a paper on the desk and flipped it, “Smith is no longer teaching this class.”
“What happened to him,” someone asked from the back of the room.
“Sabbatical, I was told.” He touched his glasses, adjusting them. “The still life sketches Professor Smith assigned will be due next week and then we’ll move onto a new lesson plan.”
Yelena didn’t look up again. But she knew, with certainty that he wasn’t here by accident. He had just walked back into her life like nothing happened all those weeks ago. Like she hadn’t been dragged from her bed in the middle of the night. Like shadows hadn’t swallowed her whole. Like she hadn’t seen things that should not exist, like monsters and winged creatures. She was sure she had gone crazy.
Yelena moved her hand, sketching a shape that resembled a beach ball. She was better than this, but inspiration was lacking at the moment. She had the sudden urge to stand and run out of the classroom. Did he lecture? It was all a blur as her heart thudded rapid fire against her ribs. Then all too soon, the students started packing up their belongings to head to the next class.
“Ms. Ashborne,” Professor Hawthorne called. “I’d like to speak with you.”
“Oh, damn,” Mara groaned. “He chose you. I want him to speak with me. Let me go instead. I’ll pretend to be you.”
“I think he knows you’re not me,” Yelena whispered. She forced a laugh as she folded her notebook closed and tucked her belongings in her bag, then waited.
“I’ll catch up,” Yelena told Mara. “Unless he kicks me out.”
“He can’t do that,” Mara winked. “Make a good impression.”
Yelena smiled and watched her friend go. When the room was empty and the door closed, she stood and walked to the front of the room.
Professor Hawthorne was stacking papers, distracted. He looked so different like this. Not like the man she’d met before. She was suddenly thirsty and wished she’d brought a drink with her. Maybe she’d get a coffee after this uncomfortable experience.
Suddenly, Professor Hawthorne glanced up at her from behind a tousle of brown hair. He cleared his throat and straightened, pushing his glasses up and running a hand through his hair, moving it out of his face.
“You wanted to see me, Professor Hawthorne.”
Yelena was inspecting him, from his tallness to the button down and khakis and loafers he was wearing. Was he trying to fool her? She had enough reasons to consider her sanity these past few weeks.
“Is this your disguise?” she asked.
“Disguise?” Professor Hawthorne asked.
“Yeah, Glasses. Neutral clothing. Blend into the university that I’m attending.” She couldn’t hide her unimpressed expression. “What are you doing here?”
He cleared his throat. “I ask that you don’t blow my cover.”
“So you’re not an art history instructor?”
“I’m qualified enough to teach the material. That’s all that matters.” A beat passed. “My expertise aligns with ancient symbolism and religious iconography. But this will do.” He picked up a packet of papers. “I’ll have to change this syllabus.” He glanced at the still life spread out in the center of the room. “That will have to end.”
“It’s kinda boring,” Yelena said. “The last time I saw you—”
“Please do not mention that here. This is neutral ground.”
“I know. I’m not stupid.” Yelena leveled her gaze on him and held in her next statement, which was he was too good looking to be a professor at this college. Mara was going to make him wish he’d chosen to be a janitor or a groundskeeper instead.
“I’m going to need you to remain professional in front of the other students,” he added.
Yelena nodded. “Sure. Are you going to tell me more about what happened that night?”
Everything was so strange, it was like she’d walked through a gothic fever dream filled with creatures that didn’t belong even though they seemed familiar.
“Soon, until then please remember I am here for your safety.”
“Oh huh.” Yelena adjusted her bag. “I need to go to my next class.”
“Be careful.”
“Oh, please, this is Loyola University, there’s no safer place on earth than this campus.”
