This has been a long time coming for De Elizabeth. Like many other authors, De Elizabeth has been open and honest about the wild ride it has taken for her to release her official debut and it certainly has been worth the wait. Along the way, she’s also gained a veracious group of readers who have been counting down the days until the book comes out. At least we found the perfect way to make that wait just a little bit easier! <\/p>\n
Cosmopolitan has an exclusive look at De Elizabeth’s This Raging Sea<\/a>, set to be released on September 23, 2025. The mesmerizing debut follows Briar as she does anything to figure out the truth behind the disappearance of her best friend Finn. But to uncover the secrets hidden beneath the waves, she not only has to partner with unlikely allies, but she also has to come face-to-face with some dark truths that are hidden beneath the shores for a reason. Here’s some more info from our friends at Holiday House<\/a>:<\/p>\n 18-year-old Briar Winters must untangle the horrifying eldritch secrets of her picture-perfect coastal town in order to save the boy she loves after he disappears from time itself in this YA dark fantasy for fans of Bly Manor.<\/strong>Historic Loch Creek is a witchy New England tourist trap\u2014but it\u2019s just a trap for Briar, who\u2019s convinced she\u2019ll die there among the waves that devoured her twin brother thirteen years ago. But when her best friend who she\u2019s loved since childhood, Finn, vanishes from the seaside carnival, there\u2019s only one person who can help Briar find him: Morgan, her biggest enemy who knows her darkest secret.<\/p>\n As Briar uncovers hidden truths as deep and dark as the water that haunts her, it quickly becomes clear that Finn has gone much further than anyone could have imagined. He\u2019s lost in time, and neither of them are safe. If Briar and Finn look too hard, they might find terrifying answers\u2014not just about what\u2019s buried beneath the shores, but also the threads tying them to each other. As past and future collide, the seductive yet evil underwater entity that intends to claim Briar still needs its sacrifice . . .<\/p>\n And it\u2019s too hungry to go unsated.<\/p>\n Equal parts epic bisexual romance and pulse-pounding horror, This Raging Sea is a dual POV dark fantasy as sweepingly powerful as the ocean that threatens to consume everything and everyone Briar has ever loved\u2014prepare to be devoured.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n Ready to duck under the waves and figure out the truth? Check out an exclusive excerpt below! Just make sure to pre-order This Raging Sea<\/a> before diving in!<\/p>\n An Excerpt From This Raging Sea CHAPTER NINEBriar3 Days and 1 Hour Until Briar\u2019s Birthday Party<\/p>\n Briar emerges from her bedroom, a bandage plastered over the pulsating cut on her calf, and wrestles with the idea of driving to visit Morgan Parker-Blake.<\/p>\n It\u2019s the absolute last thing she wants to do. She\u2019d rather eat those crickets Morgan once put in her sneakers. But her leg is burning from a cut she somehow dreamed into existence, and her world is crashing in a way that feels all too familiar. Riley\u2019s playful laugh by the water\u2019s edge. Finn\u2019s heated stare outside the mirror house. Flickering moments that she didn\u2019t realize were goodbyes until it was too late. Both times, near the ocean.<\/p>\n Both times, around her birthday.<\/p>\n And each time, Morgan was somehow right there. As if quietly guarding the answers that Briar\u2019s been chasing, waiting for her to catch up.<\/p>\n As Briar reaches the first floor, she eyes the sliver of light from her mother\u2019s craft studio. Inside, the weaving loom clacks and hums like a lullaby. The kitchen is swathed in shadows, her father nowhere in sight. Probably back at the gallery.<\/p>\n Just then, a distinct scratching snags her attention. She whirls toward the patio door in the kitchen\u2014<\/p>\n Where the handle is twisting back and forth.<\/p>\n Like someone is trying to get in.<\/p>\n Panic flashes inside her. If the cut in her dream became real, what if that frightening woman did too? What if she\u2019s escaped from behind glass? What if she\u2019s here right now? What if\u2014 what if\u2014?<\/p>\n There\u2019s no time to think. Briar snatches a frying pan from the wall. She closes a sweaty fist around the handle, prepared to smash that woman\u2019s disgusting face, once and for all. Sucking in a breath, she flings open the door\u2014<\/p>\n And screeches when she finds Morgan Parker-Blake crouched on the patio with a knife.<\/p>\n Like she was just picking the lock, trying to work it loose. As if Briar summoned her with her desperate thoughts.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat the hell?\u201d Briar yelps. \u201cAre you trying to break into my house?\u201d<\/p>\n Completely unfazed, Morgan stands. She tucks her pocketknife into the waistband of her short black skirt and tosses her dark hair over one shoulder.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere is it?\u201d Morgan demands coolly.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere is what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe thing you and your friends stole from my apartment today.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar blinks. \u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLike hell you don\u2019t.\u201d Morgan\u2019s gaze flicks to the frying pan. \u201cYou don\u2019t strike me as a girl who cooks, Pom-Poms. Better put that down before you hurt yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n She pushes into the kitchen, and Briar drops the pan onto the counter with a clatter. Anger bubbles inside her at the determination in Morgan\u2019s expression, the confidence with which she\u2019s barreled into Briar\u2019s home.<\/p>\n \u201cMorgan! What are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, so youcan storm into my apartment uninvited, but I can\u2019t look for my stu\ufb00 ?\u201d Morgan calls, as she sails through the living room, yanking pillows o\ufb00 the sectional.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat stu\ufb00 ?\u201d Briar races after her. \u201cStop!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know you have it,\u201d Morgan snaps, dropping in front of a wicker basket full of art magazines. Her pleated skirt flattens across her thighs, muscles flexing beneath the fishnet stockings tucked into her lace-up boots. Then she grabs the whole damn basket and dumps everything to the floor.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat the hell is wrong with you?\u201d Briar cries, diving for the mess. \u201cWhat are you even looking for\u2014? Morgan!\u201d<\/p>\n But Morgan has already moved on, flinging cabinets and tearing through drawers, a storm leaving disaster in her wake. Briar marches after her and fleetingly wonders how she could have even considered seeking Morgan out in the first place. As if they\u2019d be able to sit and talk, like there aren\u2019t explosives ready to detonate between them at any moment.<\/p>\n \u201cMorgan! You\u2019re trashing my house!\u201d she yells, trailing her into the foyer. \u201cMorgan\u2014\u201d Briar lunges, snaring her wrist. \u201cMy mom is home!\u201d<\/p>\n At that, Morgan whirls.<\/p>\n Briar\u2019s stomach flips as she realizes how little distance is suddenly between them. She hadn\u2019t meant to get this close to Morgan\u2014 close enough that she can see the tiny rhinestone in Morgan\u2019s nose, close enough to smell her<\/p>\n perfume: dark floral, blood orange, amber. Her own rule echoes in her head: Don\u2019t ever talk to Morgan Parker-Blake. The words are a hollow reminder of every buried secret Morgan could unearth. Yet here she is, inches away, her delicate pulse fluttering in Briar\u2019s palm.<\/p>\n Briar drops her hand as though Morgan\u2019s touch was scalding.<\/p>\n But Morgan doesn\u2019t move. Instead she lowers her voice to a frighteningly soft whisper. \u201cYour scary mommy doesn\u2019t scare me.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar frowns. \u201cWhat\u2019s that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d Morgan crosses her arms. \u201cWe\u2019ve known each other our entire lives, and you\u2019re gonna pull that deer-in-the-headlights shit?\u201d Her gold-speckled eyes narrow. \u201cIf you\u2019re going to fight, fight dirty, Pom-Poms. You know exactly what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar chews the inside of her cheek, recalling the stony looks their mothers exchanged over the years. Mrs. Parker-Blake, her scowl always dripping with disdain. Briar\u2019s mom, staring back with the icy confidence of someone who knew they couldn\u2019t be touched. Briar always assumed Morgan\u2019s mother knew the same awful things Morgan did. That Briar\u2019s mother found some way to keep her quiet too.<\/p>\n Yet now she can\u2019t help but wonder if the glares that passed between them were about something else entirely. Something worse.<\/p>\n Briar clenches her teeth. \u201cFor the last time\u2014 I don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d She hu\ufb00s a breath. \u201cWhat are you even looking for?\u201d<\/p>\n Morgan only o\ufb00ers the smallest disappointed shake of her head, ignoring her question. You\u2019re pathetic, her expression seems to say. As if she sees straight through Briar\u2014 past her expensive clothes, past the layers of makeup\u2014 to the damaged, ugly parts she tries so desperately to hide.<\/p>\n \u201cFine,\u201d Morgan clips. \u201cKeep being the deer.\u201d Her predatory gaze rakes over Briar, putting a flush in Briar\u2019s cheeks. \u201cGuess that makes me the hunter.\u201d<\/p>\n Before Briar can respond, Morgan spins, her boots thudding on the stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cMorgan!\u201d<\/p>\n Briar tears after her. A new surge of anger spikes in her chest as Morgan barges into her bedroom and beelines for her bureau\u2014 but Briar is at her heels this time.<\/p>\n \u201cStop. Stop it! Morgan, stop!\u201d Briar bats away Morgan\u2019s hands before wedging herself between Morgan and the dresser.<\/p>\n But the motion pulls them into a tangle of limbs and curves and hair, and Briar battles a traitorous warmth inside her as she registers everywhere they\u2019re suddenly touching: the metallic studs of Morgan\u2019s belt digging into the skin beneath her crop top; rough threads of fishnets grazing her bare thighs. She scrambles to ignore all of it.<\/p>\n \u201cYou want to fight dirty?\u201d Briar hisses. \u201cFine. Tell me why Finn was staring at you at the carnival.\u201d<\/p>\n Morgan rolls her eyes. \u201cDidn\u2019t we go over this? I don\u2019t even know who\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t know who Finn is, you\u2019ve never heard of him, blah, blah, blah.\u201d Briar raises her chin. \u201cSave it. I know you\u2019re lying.\u201d<\/p>\n Morgan\u2019s nostrils flare. \u201cWell, you\u2019d know a lot about lying, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis isn\u2019t about me.\u201d But anxiety flares inside her anyway, and Briar rushes to continue before Morgan can say anything else. \u201cMy best friend vanished into thin air, and the next day, you\u2019re living in his apartment? I saw him looking at you last night. I saw your expression when we showed up this morning. No more bullshit, Morgan. I want the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe truth?\u201d Morgan makes the word sound like a swear. \u201cLike what I saw happen thirteen years ago? That kind of truth?\u201d<\/p>\n A knot twists inside Briar\u2019s stomach. Her remaining boldness plummets to the floor. \u201cThat\u2019s . . . that\u2019s not what I was talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh, so it\u2019s selective truth you\u2019re after,\u201d Morgan replies. \u201cHow convenient. Thing is, I\u2019m not interested in hiding behind lies. I prefer unfiltered, ugly honesty. I know I can take it.\u201d She leans in closer, strands of her dark hair skimming Briar\u2019s bare shoulder. \u201cCan you, Pom-Poms?\u201d<\/p>\n The room suddenly feels too small, the line of conversation threatening to sew Briar\u2019s throat shut in panic. Morgan slowly examines her as if she can tell, making Briar feel like a caged mouse in a lab.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t think so,\u201d Morgan says softly, and there\u2019s something new and sad in her voice. Almost like pity. Somehow that stings worse than the heat of Morgan\u2019s ire, and Briar scrapes for something\u2014 anything\u2014 else to say.<\/p>\n \u201cI tried to be nice to you,\u201d she blurts, cheeks reddening. \u201cI tried to sit with you at lunch in first grade! I invited you to my family\u2019s Christmas party that year too! You\u2019re the one who didn\u2019t want to be friends. Not me.\u201d<\/p>\n Morgan snorts a surprised laugh. \u201cYeah, okay. That invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar scowls. \u201cIt didn\u2019t! Your sister told me you wanted nothing to do with me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo what?\u201d Morgan presses. \u201cEven if your warped version of history is true\u2014 which it isn\u2019 t\u2014 what are you saying? Your delicate feelings were hurt, so you decided to turn me into the world\u2019s biggest outcast?\u201d She sco\ufb00s. \u201cYeah, come to think of it, I can see exactly why someone wouldn\u2019t want to be your friend.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar\u2019s throat burns with desperation to defend herself, and for a second, she nearly confesses to sending Morgan those bouquets after Mrs. Parker-Blake\u2019s funeral. See? she could say. I\u2019m not the monster you think I am. I know what it feels like to lose someone.Instead, Briar rummages for something that could cut deep, make Morgan bleed until their scars match.<\/p>\n \u201cIdidn\u2019t turn you into an outcast,\u201d Briar seethes. \u201cYou did that all on your own. You were a bitch to everyone at school, so\u2014 surprise, surprise\u2014 you were always alone. You did weird shit our entire lives, so\u2014 shocker!\u2014 people thought you were a witch. But go ahead, blame me for everything. Easier to do that than look at yourself, right?\u201d<\/p>\n Something flashes in Morgan\u2019s eyes, and Briar\u2019s mouth twitches.<\/p>\n \u201cDirty enough for you, Morgan?\u201d<\/p>\n With an annoyed exhale, Morgan leans closer, flattening Briar\u2019s spine against the dresser. \u201cYou,\u201d Morgan snarls, \u201care the most delusional person I\u2019ve ever met. We both know you never wanted to be my friend. You wanted to make sure I never told a soul about what really happened on the beach that day when we were kids. Isn\u2019t that right, Pom-Poms?\u201d<\/p>\n The room spins at her words, and Briar grinds her teeth so hard, her jaw might snap. But she won\u2019t give Morgan the satisfaction of seeing her fear or the guilt that\u2019s heavy in her stomach like lead. Instead, she summons the calmest voice she can find to reply. \u201cI\u2019m starting to think you don\u2019t know my actual name.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhich would be the worst thing in the world for someone like you, wouldn\u2019t it? Pretty little prom queen. High school freakin\u2019 royalty.\u201d Lashes narrowing, Morgan cages Briar against the bureau with a hand on either side. \u201cBut girls like you never leave towns like this one. Everyone\u2019s eventually gonna forget who you are. It\u2019ll be like you\u2019re dead. Worse\u2014 like you never even existed at all.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar bites the inside of her cheek, grasping for anger to replace the hurt spreading through her chest.<\/p>\n Like you never even existed at all.<\/p>\n \u201cIs that a threat? \u2019Cause that\u2019s exactly what\u2019s happened to Finn.\u201d Briar dares to press closer, their noses all but brushing. \u201cYou know more than you\u2019re saying. And I won\u2019t stop until I figure out what.\u201d<\/p>\n With that, Briar wrenches away to snatch her scissors, pointing them directly in Morgan\u2019s face. \u201cNow back the hell o\ufb00,\u201d Briar threatens. \u201cAnd get out of my house.\u201d<\/p>\n If Morgan is shaken by the sight of two blades inches from her skin, she doesn\u2019t let on.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you gonna do? Burn me at the stake?\u201d Her crimson mouth curls in a darkly bemused grin. \u201cI dare you.\u201d She leans in even closer, the scissors all but kissing her lashes, her whisper edged with something that\u2019s not altogether anger. \u201cGo ahead. Light me up, bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar\u2019s face flushes, and Morgan takes a satisfied step back. A rush of cool air slips between them, replacing the blistering warmth from the press of Morgan\u2019s curves against Briar\u2019s.<\/p>\n \u201cSeems like we\u2019re both looking for something,\u201d Morgan says, straightening her clothes. \u201cIf you know what\u2019s good for you, you\u2019ll return what\u2019s mine.\u201d<\/p>\n With that, she stalks from the room, leaving Briar alone with her pounding heart and the lingering question of what Morgan was so hell-bent on finding in the first place.<\/p>\n A bubble of frustration swells inside her, and she hurls the scissors at her bureau before pulling out her phone and sinking to the carpet. Briar brings her knees to her chest and taps the screen until she reaches Finn\u2019s name.<\/p>\n She stares at the space where his photo should be, conjuring the gray of his Berkeley sweatshirt, the glare on his rounded glasses, the lilt of his voice in the middle of the night. The way he\u2019d always ask, What\u2019s today\u2019s date? As though he lost time and gravity in his sleep and needed her to anchor him back to earth.<\/p>\n Those late-night calls started over a year ago, right after Finn moved into his own place. The topics always wandered, as though he\u2019d bring up anything to hear her voice. You know how people say Loch Creek was founded as a safe haven for the accused during the Salem Witch Trials? he asked her once.I think that was a cover.<\/p>\n But he never spoke about one thing for long, and talk of Loch Creek\u2019s history was woven into Finn\u2019s other abstract thoughts. Mostly, he\u2019d just ask questions. Do you ever wonder who you\u2019d be if you\u2019d made di\ufb00erent choices? Do you wish you could go back and live a day you already lived?<\/p>\n Do you ever feel like you lost something?<\/p>\n The calls stopped after graduation.<\/p>\n Or, more accurately, she stopped answering.<\/p>\n But now, Briar wishes she\u2019d picked up every single one. She wishes she\u2019d turned every word Finn ever breathed into ink, because there must be clues somewhere\u2014 Finn wouldn\u2019t disappear without leaving breadcrumbs, a puzzle piece, a hint.<\/p>\n At that thought, Briar freezes.<\/p>\n There were numbers all over his window, Kai\u2019s voice echoes in her ear. I meant to look this up; I thought it was a phone number. But it\u2019s too many digits.<\/p>\n She gasps and scrolls until she finds the photo Kai sent to their group text earlier. A string of twelve numbers.<\/p>\n Briar fleetingly pictures Finn in AP Calculus, scratching out equations even their teacher didn\u2019t understand. Math is cool, he once said, because numbers aren\u2019t just numbers. They can tell stories, make predictions. Let you know exactly when and where something is going to happen. Numbers can be time. Numbers can be a place.<\/p>\n \u201cOh my god.\u201d<\/p>\n Briar swipes into a search engine, fingers flying against the screen before scrambling to her feet with another gasp. She races into the hall and down the stairs, then barrels outside just as headlights flood her vision.<\/p>\n Kai\u2019s car.<\/p>\n She runs to meet them, and before he or Astrid can speak, Briar\u2019s breath rushes out.<\/p>\n \u201cThe numbers you found on Finn\u2019s window,\u201d she exclaims. \u201cYou\u2019re right\u2014 it\u2019s not a phone number. It\u2019s coordinates.\u201d Her heart pounds in time with her next words. \u201cAnd they lead right to the mirror house at the carnival.\u201d<\/p>\n This Raging Sea by De Elizabeth. Text copyright \u00a9 2025 by De Elizabeth. Reproduced with permission from Holiday House Publishing, Inc. All Rights Reserved. UK edition published by Walker Books, Ltd.<\/strong><\/p>\n This Raging Sea, by De Elizbeth will be released on September 23, 2025 from Holiday House<\/a>. To preorder the book, click on the retailer of your choice:<\/p>\n AMAZON<\/a> AUDIBLE<\/a> BARNES & NOBLE<\/a> BOOKS-A-MILLION<\/a> BOOKSHOP<\/a> APPLE BOOKS<\/a> KOBO<\/a> LIBRO.FM<\/a> TARGET<\/a> WALMART<\/a> POWELL’S BOOKS<\/a> HUDSON BOOKSELLERS<\/a> GOOGLE PLAY<\/a><\/strong>
By De Elizabeth<\/strong><\/p>\n
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