Lost Lake Series

“Mom, why are you so mad at Dad?”
“I’m not,” I say, which isn’t exactly true. Putting on a brave face for my two young daughters—pretending everything is fine in my marriage—has been hard. That, and losing the house after Daniel lied to me.

I never expected to have to uproot my family to go live in my parents’ isolated cottage on Lost Lake. It’s twenty miles to the nearest town, an insignificant speck in endless pine forests. Nobody’s lived here for a decade.

Now, I pick up a rusty pail from its nest of autumn leaves and turn to my daughter. Suddenly, I recall how I used to help my own mother pick wild strawberries up here as a little girl. Maybe, this isn’t a punishment. Maybe this place will be the making of our family.

I’m still thinking it when my daughter rests her silky head on my shoulder that evening in the flickering firelight. And when, over a steaming cup of coffee at dawn, I watch a single loon cut a course through the mirrored surface of Lost Lake.

Later, I’ll hold on to these memories—ghostly shreds of another life. Because just eight hours after I sat on that sofa, feeling so hopeful, the world as I knew it—as anyone knew it—was gone for good.

Seven months ago, our family left suburban Connecticut for my parents’ isolated lake house in a naïve attempt to reconnect. Life had imploded, or so I thought then. I hoped the change would reset us: a montage of Hallmark moments—card games in candlelight, spontaneous hugs and important, healing chats. What I got was a nuclear holocaust five days after we arrived.

A week ago, the lake house burned to the ground. Our last place of safety. Now, I watch my children huddle together, their faces lit up by our tiny campfire beneath the towering blackness of endless pine forests. I wonder what tomorrow will bring—for the world, but also for my family.

My daughters are so young. They’ve seen so little of life, but far too much. What future can they possibly have? What future can I make for them? I must keep them safe. No matter what lies ahead.

Already I know it’s a promise I don’t have the power to make… but I’ll die trying to keep it.

Coming soon: the third book in the Lost Lake Series! January 2026.

In this powerful conclusion to the Lost Lake trilogy, a mother faces her greatest test yet in a reborn but dangerous America.

After years of survival and devastating loss, the promise of a new settlement in North Dakota feels like salvation. A chance for my children to reclaim some semblance of normalcy, studying and making friends again, and for me to find new purpose, reporting on this strange new world we’re living in for a newspaper. I’m even forming new friendships as I grow closer to Jack Norman, the settlement’s deputy leader.

But I can’t help feeling haunted by what—and who—we left behind. I desperately miss my eldest daughter, Mattie, who chose to stay in Canada, forging her own future in the community I left behind. I tell myself she’s safe there. But as I learn more about the world I belong to, I begin to understand the disturbing truth of how it has been formed—and I am terrified that Mattie might be in their sights.

I've already lost too much to this broken world—I won't lose my daughter too.