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Saturday, May 12, 2018

The Killing of Miguel by Christopher McAfee


The
Killing of Miguel
by
Christopher McAfee

Genre:
Psychological Thriller

"When
someone loses a family member, or is faced with tragedy that is
beyond comprehension, the mind and body take refuge in a safe place.
Sometimes, it takes the person on a journey that many people cannot
conceive. It is my opinion that Steven will never be able to return
to his former self."



That
quote was from one of my doctors that I saw while confined.


While
it is true that the death of my father was very traumatic, what
followed was truly real.

It
was a battle of wills with the epitome of Evil.





Excerpt:


Excerpt 1:

After Dad’s death, I wasn’t sleeping well. I hadn’t been running, and my body was taking
notice. I had put on some weight, and my energy level was low. I decided to take
some sleeping pills that I had discovered in the bathroom. I took the required
amount and soon felt drowsy.
And this is the beginning of my story.
I drifted off quickly and even found myself chuckling and feeling goofy.
Finally, I thought to myself, a good night’s sleep. I soon found myself awakened
by a sweet, indescribable smell. I looked around only to see myself lying on the
side of a hill abundant with wildflowers. I stood and noticed a large oak tree in
the distance. I was drawn to it. As I got closer, I saw a girl motioning me to
come to her. She was blonde with a white gown, brown eyes, and a smallish
figure. She wrapped her arms around me. It felt warm and comforting. She said
she had been sent to guide me through this difficult time and that she would
always be here for me. She was beautiful. She sat down, I laid my head on her
lap, and she brushed my hair from my eyes. It felt so real, but at the same time
surreal.
I was soon awakened by my alarm clock. Five a.m.―time to go to work. That
dream stuck with me for days. Every night, from then on, I would try and make
myself fall asleep and dream. I tried retracing my steps, eating the same food,
taking the same sleeping pills, and going to sleep at the same time. It became an
obsession.
I had to see this “angel” again.
It was only a couple of days into our summer vacation when Beth stopped
over for a visit and invited us to meet their new exchange student. I reluctantly
agreed, as their previous exchange students had all been holy rollers who had
known the Bible front to back. Being a nonbeliever, they were not the kind of
people I wanted to spend time with.
That night, I struck gold. Same dream, same scenario. Only this time, it was
even more real.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Alexa,” she replied.
“What are you doing here?”
“A calling came out to help a young man with the death of his father. I’m
answering the call to be by your side. Are you the one who needs me?”
“Yes! Yes! Me. I’m Steven,” I answered enthusiastically.
“You miss your father, don’t you?”
My eyes filled with tears. “Yes.”
She held me as I cried and told her all about him. It was exactly what I
needed. She told me she was my angel and that she would always be there for
me. I smiled and drifted off.
Once again, I was awakened by a shrill alarm clock. But this morning I felt
renewed and regenerated. I had a bounce in my step, and the name “Alexa” was
in my thoughts. After work, I grabbed a sandwich and went straight to my room,
hoping for a nap and another visit with her.
But no luck.
Mom reminded me that the Randolph’s were having a little party for their new
exchange student. “He’s from Ecuador,” Mom said. “A very well-spoken boy
who gives very stirring sermons. We’re very lucky to have him join us.”
Yeah, I thought, just another con man.
It was a very casual affair. Potluck. Mom fixed lasagna, and all the other
church members brought side dishes and desserts. I thought, At least I’ll get my
stomach full. With a mouth full of food, I saw Beth walking towards me with the
new exchange student.
“Steven, I’d like you to meet Miguel.” I shook his hand, and he crushed mine.
Damn Alpha Male, I thought to myself. I didn’t like this guy from the start. And
as the night grew longer, I grew jealous as Hell, as Beth never left his side. She
was showing a flirtatious side that I had never seen before. It was obvious that
she was smitten with him.
After a couple of hours, I got tired of Beth and all of the other girls (and some
of the women too) throwing themselves at this guy. I guess I could understand.
He was tall, dark-skinned, and well-mannered―a Casanova type. My mom
approached me.
“Have you met Miguel?”
“Yeah, I’ve met him.” I turned and went home.
It had caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to seeing Beth with someone else,
especially someone as handsome as this guy. Certainly, she wouldn’t give herself
to this boy who was only going to be here for a few months. I put on my sweat
pants and went to bed.
Alexa visited me that night. I told her of this “new boy in the neighborhood,”
and she reassured me that, no matter what, she would always be there for me and
that any girl would be lucky to have me.
“Yeah, sure,” I said.
Soon, she had me forgetting all about Beth and laughing my head off. I then
turned serious.
“Are you real?” I asked.
“Do I look real?’’
“Yeah, too real. And beautiful too,” I said.
“Well, then, consider me real,” she said and smiled.
I nodded.
The next morning, I started questioning my sanity. As much as I wanted to
believe it, she couldn’t be real. As a nonbeliever in God, how could I justify
talking to an angel? I decided to not question it and just enjoy the ride.
My mom cornered me that day after work. “I’d like for you to talk with
Reverend Randolph. He wants to know how you’re doing since your father’s
death.”
“Tell him I’m fine.”
“Steven?” She grabbed my face. “For me, please?”
“Sure.”
“And by the way, where have you been going? Your pants smell like
honeysuckle.”
I smelled them. They smelled like the flowers that were on the hillside where I
would meet with Alexa in my dreams.
I went over to the Randolphs’ house, and Miguel opened the door.
“Steven, my friend! How nice of you to stop in. I take it you are here to see
Reverend Randolph.”
“Yeah.”
“Right this way.” He showed me to the Reverend’s study.
“Steven, please come in and have a seat. Your mother said you wanted to see
me.”
“Well, no actually…”
“Your father’s death was a shock to us all. But we can all learn from it.”
I interrupted him. “Have you ever met an angel?” I asked. “Have you ever
seen an angel?”
“Well, no, Steven, why do you ask? Have you?”
I didn’t want to tip my hand, and if I confessed to talking to an angel, my
mom would have me committed to an insane asylum. “Just wondering, you
know, just…interested.”
He went on with his speech, none of which I listened to. But I did hear
laughter coming from the other room. It was Miguel and Beth. I thanked the
Reverend, who was mid-sentence, and excused myself. As I left, they continued
laughing.
“Bye, Steven,” Miguel said. Had they heard me asking about angels? Is that
why they were laughing? The whole Alexa thing was getting fun, but when my
pants smelled like the flowers in my dream, it had me confused, and I searched
for a reasonable explanation.
My meetings with Alexa were now an every-night event. I would drift off,
then be awakened to the sweet smell of honeysuckle and the warmth of her being
when she was near. We laughed. I would chase her around the tree. I would tell
her my dreams. I would tell her my most private thoughts.
I was falling in love with her.
“How come I can only see you in my dreams?” I asked.
“That’s where I belong,” she said.
“I…I just miss you during the day. That’s all.”
“Do you want me to visit you during the day? I will.”
“Alexa?”
“Yes, Steven.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We kissed.
Once again, the moment was ruined by my annoying alarm clock. I got out of
bed and started to leave. I picked up my clothes and smelled them. It was the
honeysuckle.
The following morning, when was halfway done with my mowing, I was
wondering how Alexa would present herself. I was eager with anticipation when
I felt her warmth and smelled her fragrance.
She was with me.
Inside of me.
I felt complete.
I probably looked like a jerk, outside riding on a mower with a goofy grin on
my face.
She would stay with me all day unless I had to talk to someone, then she
would disappear. I tried to avoid interaction with everyone.
The nighttime was filled with chasing her, catching her, and professing my
love to her.
“Marry me,” I said.
“Steven, I can’t marry you. I am not of this world.”
“If I died, could we be together?” I asked.
“Steven! Don’t talk like that. Your mother needs you. Your time on Earth is
not over.”
“I’m going to buy you a ring! I’m going to buy you a ring, and then we can
say some vows to each other under the big oak tree,” I said excitedly.
Alexa suddenly got a serious look on her face. “Oh, Steven, I would love
that.”
We kissed. I knew for sure that I had found my soulmate.
The following day, I took all of my earnings from the golf course and bought
two rings―one for each of us. No diamonds, but whatever $112 could buy, and I
was extremely proud of the steel-like finish they possessed.
That night we waited for dark. We stood underneath the big oak tree and read
our vows. I remember the moon being so close and so bright that the words were
easy to read. When we were done reading, we kissed. With a gentle breeze
behind us, we walked to a nearby forest. We lay down and consummated our
marriage. It was quick, awkward, and beautiful. I fell asleep.
I awoke early to go to work. I was constantly checking the ring on my finger.
Even though I was still a kid in every way possible, I felt like an adult. I made a
vow to get my life together―buckle down at school, go to college, and make a
life for Alexa and me. It made me wonder about my dad. I bet getting married
had made him dedicated to making his life a success.
Sometimes I would get doubts. I knew this was not a traditional relationship.
But it was all I had.
I had no other friends.
In the meantime, Beth and Miguel were obviously a couple. They went
everywhere together. The rumor was that he had taken her virginity, and I was
hoping that that was not the case. I had noticed that the congregation was
increasing dramatically, and I was sure that Reverend Randolph was licking his
chops at all the money they were bringing in. The church had added an extra
service on Sunday nights, and Miguel was the main draw. I still felt
uncomfortable around him, but I thought it was just leftover feelings I had for
Beth.





Christopher
resides in Fremont,Ohio,USA. A self confessed music nerd, he utilized
real life experiences with a vivid imagination to write a fictional
memoir, Almost Anonymous. A tale of a young musician’s battle to
discover the real person inside. After positive reviews he was urged
to write in a genre that was more popular. He chose Horror, and “The
Killing of Miguel” was written. A story of a young man seeking
revenge against an Agent of the Devil (Miguel) for stealing his
father’s soul.
In
his spare time he enjoys spending time with his wife,Vicki and their
son’s Kevin,Joshua, Jacob, grandson Maxwell Christopher McAfee and
their assortment of family dogs, Buddy,Bailey,Nash and Mia.







Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts and a giveaway!










Illusional Reality by Karina Kantas


Illusional
Reality
by
Karina Kantas

Genre:
YA Romantic Fantasy

Romance,
Magic, Action…Illusional Reality has it all.’ Emily
Woodmansee 



Nobody
expects to stare death in the face only to find out your entire life
is a lie. Rescued by Salco, marketing executive Becky finds herself
in an unknown magical world filled with happy people that try to
forget their land is on the brink of destruction.


Becky
will soon learn that her arrival is no accident. If learning that she
is Thya, the heir of the enchanting land isn’t enough, she’s then
told that an Oracle prophesied that she will save the gentle Tsinians
from slavery and domination by Darthorn, the Warlord of Senx.


It
is at a festival where she is introduced to the Tsinian council and
her kinsmen, that she learns the whole truth. The council are so
certain that a union between Darthorn’s son, Kovon and Thya will
create peace between the two lands. However, Darthorn has plans for
Tsinia as does Kovon for Thya and neither are good.
Although
her future has been planned and if she is to save Tsinia she must
marry Kovon, Thya gives her heart to another. A love that is
forbidden and dangerous.

Illusional
Reality is a story about hope, courage, love and sacrifice.
This
story is unique. No typical fantasy stereotyping.’






Excerpt:

“Wow, that was amazing. I have never seen anything like it. You really do get caught up in it, do you not?”
Omad and Alkazar laughed.
Siren left to speak to a friend, and soon Omad made his excuses to leave. “If you will absolve my departure, my lady, I speculate that my fellow Tsinians desire to converse.”
Thya watched as Omad walked over to a group of Tsinians that were similar in dress. They patted him on his back as if in congratulations.
She turned her attention back to Alkazar. She smiled at him and their eyes locked, until Alkazar broke away.
“Who do you surmise will be victorious?” he asked.
“I am sure the silver knights will win. They seem to be the stronger of the two. You are more familiar with the game, who do you think will win my favour?”
Alkazar laughed. “Nay, my lady. I disagree with your outcome. The team coloured red will triumph, for they are swifter.”
“Oh, I agree. The red dragons have more speed. Call it woman's intuition, if you will, only I am certain the silver knights will win.”
Alkazar threw back his head and laughed. “You possess strange expressions, Thya. Although if we ruled our land on intuition, as you name it, we would have lost our land to Darthorn long ago.”
Alkazar regretted his words as soon as they left his lips, although Thya seemed unaffected by his comment.
“So, a bet then?” she cried. “What will you give me if my team wins?”
“You retain the whole of Tsinia at your feet. What could I possess that you would claim as your reward?”
Thya didn't reply.
Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice. “More to the point, my lady, what could you offer me?” His eyes bored into her soul. “Alas, regretfully, I will decline.”
“Why so?” Thya asked.
His eyes shone as did his smile. “I do not gamble for I am fearful of the amount I could lose."
He smiled again, only his eyes saddened and his grin faded. “Pardon, my lady. Unfortunately, I am requested elsewhere. I hope you enjoy the remainder of the tournament. I look forward to concluding our conversation.” He bowed, and then left.
To Thya's annoyance, Siren met him. She took his arm and guided him to the other side of the arena, but not before glancing over her shoulder and giving Thya a look of triumph. Thya turned away, when what she should have done was smile and wave back. Why give Siren the satisfaction of knowing how uncomfortable she was at seeing





Karina
Kantas is the author of the popular MC thriller series, OUTLAW and
the loved romantic fantasy, Illusional Reality 



She
also writes short stories and when her imagination is working
overtime, she writes thought-provoking dark flash fiction.
There
are many layers to Karina's writing style and voice, as you will see
in her flash fiction collection, Heads & Tales and in UNDRESSED
she opens up more to her fans, giving them another glimpse into her
warped mind.

When
Karina isn't busy working on her next bestseller, she's designing
teasers, book trailers, recording audio or videoing small readings
and then working on Twitter and FB posts. She's also the host of a
popular radio show, Author Assist on the Artist First Radio
Network.

Karina
writes in the genres of fantasy, MC romance, Young Adult. sci-fi,
horror, thrillers and comedy.
Her
inspirations are the author S.E.Hinton and the rock band, Iron
Maiden.








Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!











Tots! by Dan Whalen



Ever wondered what you could do with that half a bag of tator tots growing ice crystals in your freezer? This book has over 50 recipes with tator tots as the main ingredient. There are recipes for everything from appetizers to desserts made with Tator Tots. This is a great cookbook for families with small kids, for college students, and just people who want quick easy and tasty recipes.

I received this book from the Author or Publisher at Netgalley.com in exchange for my honest opinion.

Friday, May 11, 2018

Degrees of Love by Lisa Slabach



Book Details:



Book Title: Degrees of Love: A Novel by Lisa Slabach

Category: Adult Fiction, 344 pages

Genre: Women's Fiction

Publisher: Bookbaby

Release date: Dec 1, 2017

Tour dates: May 1 to 18, 2018

Content Rating: PG-13 + M (Adult themes including infidelity, occasional F-word, non-explicit sex scenes)



​Book Description:



At thirty-six, Susan Sinclair has it all. She's just been promoted to Senior Vice President of Mobile Banking at her firm, a prestigious position bringing fresh creative challenges and a hefty salary increase. Like the shiny new BMW in the driveway of the Silicon Valley home she shares with her husband, Matt, and their two beautiful boys, Susan exudes confidence and style.



Yet despite her success in juggling the roles of wife, mother, and businesswoman, Susan struggles with a secret dissatisfaction. Matt's work in cutting-edge computer research pays less than her job, and with each advance in her career, he has grown more distant. But Matt refuses to admit there is a problem, and Susan forces herself to play along, determined to give her boys the close-knit family life she never had.



Then she meets her new boss, Reese Kirkpatrick. Working and traveling together, she and Reese become a crackerjack team, but little by little, pleasure mixes with business. For the first time in a long time—maybe ever—Susan feels seen and appreciated for who she is. Certain she would never allow their friendship to cross the line, Susan lets herself stray dangerously close to the edge.



​A moment of weakness changes everything. Now, unable to stomach the façade her marriage has become yet unwilling to decimate her family by moving forward with Reese, Susan faces a choice that could cost her everything—including her children . . . but possibly bring her more than she can dream.



Praise for Degrees of Love:



​"Slabach crafts a relatable, heartbreakingly real story that will no doubt resonate with those at a similar station in life: women who love their families yet yearn for just a little more—to feel wanted rather than needed, to feel passion rather than complacency. In engaging prose and through skillful storytelling, Slabach captivates with an all-too-familiar story that raises questions with no easy answers."

- Kirkus Reviews (Starred Review)



"This does not read like a debut author’s book. Slabach shows herself to be adept at portraying the complex emotions of the human condition. Her characters live and breathe on the page in a way that every author strives for, but few actually manage. Susan’s struggles ring true, and the way she handles everything makes her a very likable and relatable character."

- Sarah Perry, San Francisco Book Review, 5 Stars



"Profound, heart wrenching and very emotional, it is hard to believe that Degrees of Love is a debut novel by Lisa Slabach. This is one of the best novels I have read this year."

- Rabia Tanveer, Readers' Favorite





Buy the Book:





Meet the Author:







Degrees of Love is Lisa Slabach’s debut novel. She is currently working on her third full-length manuscript and a collection of short stories inspired by her experiences growing up in a small farm community in Washington’s Yakima Valley. In addition to writing, Lisa works for a Fortune 500 Company, leading a sales team in the financial industry. She currently resides in Northern California with her husband and has two daughters, who are both pursuing careers in film. In her free time, she enjoys drinking wine with friends and cooking in her pink kitchen.



Connect with the Author: Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook



Enter the Giveaway!
Ends May 24, 2018


a Rafflecopter giveaway









Strayed by KristaLyn A. Vetovich Pre-Publication Blitz



STRAYED by KristaLyn A. Vetovich,YA/NA Fantasy



Title: STRAYED

Author: KristaLyn Vetovich

Publisher: Glass House Press

Genre: YA/NA Fantasy


In the struggle between good and evil, humans don’t stand a chance—not on their own.
Which is why, for every living soul, there is a Firn: a spirit
assigned to guide and defend humans from demonic spirits like the
Aropfain. But earning a place in the fight is a process that requires
several lifetimes—of service, experience, and sacrifice.

Having just returned from her most recent life as an Ancient Roman
martyr, Anaya is only one step away from achieving that goal. And if she
succeeds, she might become the Firn with the most important mission:
guiding the human that will either save—or end—the world.

But when she’s paired with the notoriously difficult Jordin, her
chances of success suddenly start to slip. Because Jordin isn’t like
other souls. He’s strong, volatile—and a prime target for the Aropfain.
And he almost immediately falls for an Aropfain ploy that could not only
jeopardize his chances of becoming a Firn, but also endanger the entire
world.

As his partner, Anaya is the only one who can save him. But will she succeed? Or will she fail—and take the world down with her?

ADD TO YOUR GOODREADS SHELF









CHAPTER ONE

Well, it happened again. I died.
The bloodied sand of the colosseum shivers out of focus as my soul shakes
off its physical limitations in favor of a higher vibration. Instead of
centurions and weeping family, I’m now surrounded by snowy white noise and
quiet.
They came for me at dawn. I can still hear my mother’s sobs. I was only
twelve.
I blink the memories away just as a man bends and pulls into view before
me, then straightens with a blithe sort of smile. “Welcome back,” he says in an
excessively soothing tone. He wears glasses I know he doesn’t need, and behind
them, his unearthly blue eyes trace my face, looking for signs of stress.
And it comes back to me like the snap of fingers. An Advokat. Here to
help me adjust to the trauma of crossing over from life to death.
Suddenly I wonder how he sees me. Do I have blue eyes now? In
life, they were brown, but here in death I’ve always imagined others see me
with crystal blue. I guess it would depend on how much they like me. Appearance
is entirely based on impression here. We see what we feel. Feelings are real,
vision an illusion.
And this Advokat must be new, I realize a moment later. If he’d been
here for any length of time, he wouldn’t be using the sappy voice they put on
for the newer souls. The ones who don’t understand how it works. He’d know that
I’m something of a regular in the transition between life and death—that I’ve
lost count of how many of these interviews I’ve had to sit through. I’m sure I
know the process better than he does.
Because I’ve had his job before, mastered it long ago.
I skim him, searching the endless trove of memories trying to break
through the fog of earthly business still clouding my mind. I don’t remember
him. And I can see that he doesn’t know me.
Definitely new. Which means he’ll play the interview by the book. I
groan.
The Advokat reaches out as if to comfort me, like my groan was one of
anxiety and not disdain. “Try not to panic.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes and flatten my gaze at him instead. I
understand it’s his job to help me recover from the shock of death, but
honestly, I’m fine. So I died—so what? There are many things worse than death,
and one of them, if anyone ever bothered to ask me, is living. I’m actually
thrilled to be back here—and I don’t need an Advokat to counsel me through the
transition.
Also, I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have important business to attend to,
even higher vibrations to achieve. I’m so close now, and he’s the only thing
standing in my way.
I tap my foot and glance around for someone—anyone who might recognize
me and give me an opportunity to walk away from this unnecessary formality.
“Everything will make sense soon.” The Advokat’s voice echoes through
the white expanse around us. Clearly, all other souls are keeping their
distance to allow me to transition without any added shock. Or—I narrow my eyes
at the Advokat—he’s followed protocol by requesting they give us space.
And do we ever have it. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but
static white. But I smile, and my shoulders relax—because this is my true home.
Just the way I remember it.
The Advokat leans into my line of sight. “Do you know your name?”
My smile drops.
In life, my name was Agnes. In this life, anyway.
There have been so many lives, so many names, but between them all, just
one feels like home.
When it comes, my voice sounds like a lost, cherished memory. “Anaya.”
My first word after death. The truest word I know.
The Advokat smiles and nods. He doesn’t take any notes or write anything
down, and I know about that, too. The answers are in his mind, ready when he
needs them, downloaded into his head from the source of all truth on the
highest plane of vibration there is: El Olam, our master and creator. He sits
so high none of us can reach him, above laws and structure. The world is as he
makes it, and we are simply stewards of his creation, here to serve.
And today I’ll go one step further in the process of becoming a defender
of creation. I’ll become a Firn.
The Advocat, who is becoming more annoying by the moment, interrupts my
thoughts with yet another question. “Good. And do you know where you are?”
Where I am? Well it’s a much better place than where I was…
I was in Rome, in the fourth century. I rejected a boy, and he sold me
out as a Christian. It took them forever to kill me—first with shame, then with
flames. But all I gave them was a blank stare through the numbness. They
couldn’t shame me. I wouldn’t burn when they strung me to the stake and lit the
fire—even the flames knew not to touch me. But the Roman officer’s sword
through my throat did the trick in the end. I was gone before I felt anything.
So I guess the joke’s on them. There was darkness, then a burst of light—
And now I’m home, where none of that matters anymore. I’m free here.
Because no one can shame or kill the dead. I’ll be safe as long as I stay.
“This is Lemayle,” I say quietly. “The afterlife. The real world.” And I
have no intention of ever living again.
He rocks back and grins. “Wonderful!” Then his face stiffens. He
swallows and his eyes shake as he looks me over for a second time, now scanning
for any truths beneath the surface, anything I’m hiding from him. If souls
could sweat, he’d be a mess as he prepares for the most important question of
the interview.
I used to have his job, so I know what comes next. My answers from here
on out will decide my final destination.
“All right.” He clears his throat. He doesn’t have to. It’s the nerves.
I will be his enemy if I answer poorly, but he has to remain objective. He’s a
professional, after all, and he doesn’t know whose side I’m on yet—what changes
this most recent lifetime might have made in me.
I was martyred, and not all martyrs come back home the way they should.
Martyrs go into life as warriors for El Olam’s cause … but don’t always return
feeling their suffering was justified. Some turn against him and defect to the
one who seeks to depose him.
And me? How do I feel about the suffering I was put through? Have
I changed my mind about who to serve? And how dangerous does that make me to
the fragile balance of the world? That’s what the Advokat needs to find out.
“Do the names El Olam and Narn mean anything to you?”
Good and evil. That’s what they mean. Free will and slavery. But which
is which? Is El Olam good … or is he evil? Are Narn’s plans for less service to
living souls and more dominion over them more appealing? Are they justified? No
soul chooses evil.
They simply choose what they believe is right.
I hide my laugh with a cough at the tension in the Advokat’s hunched
shoulders. If he’s new—and he wants to stay—he’ll need a stiffer a spine than
he’s got now. I might as well be the one to give it to him.
I level my gaze at him, eyes wide open to appear just a little less
threatening. “Yes. I know them.”
He nods, more rigidly this time, and rubs the back of his neck as he
braces for my response to his final question.
“And … your allegiance?”
I stare at him for a long moment, watching the anxiety build behind his
bright blue eyes. He doesn’t want any trouble, but his other hand twitches at
his side, ready to summon the support of a slightly higher power—just in case I
came back tainted.
Just in case I’ve decided I hate the way the world works … and want to
serve the one trying to turn it upside down.
“Oh calm down,” I finally chide him. This has gone on long enough to
bore me. I have business to attend to, and honestly, after fifty lifetimes, a
soul should be able to just skip this process. “I chose El Olam lifetimes ago.
I’m bound to be a Firn. This was my last run.”
His whole body wilts as the tension releases. Had I said Narn, the
Advokat and I would have had a few issues. Because it would have meant I was a
soul with eyes toward flipping the script, turning the world upside down—force
living souls to do as we say, and ruling over them as gods.
He’d have had to immediately summon one of Lemayle’s second-highest
authorities—a Malekh, El Olam’s archangels—to deal with me. And it wouldn’t
have been pleasant. The Malekh don’t like jokes. Most of them, anyway.
“Well that is a relief.” The Advokat’s hand slides from the back of his
neck to clutch his chest, steadying the phantom sensation of a palpitating
heart.
And I grin, even though I shouldn’t. But what’s the fun in seniority if
you can’t mess with the rookies?
“We need as many Firns as we can get,” he admits, “events accelerating
as they are.” I perk up at that. Accelerating events is much more my
speed—though it gives me less time to meet the final criteria for joining the
Firns’ ranks. “The living souls need all the protection we can give them,” he
finishes.
I couldn’t agree more. And that’s where I come in—where all the Firns stand
and serve El Olam. Without Firns to guide living souls and protect them from
temptation and harm, Narn would flip the script. And humans would walk
right into their own slavery.
But El Olam won’t allow it.
So neither will I. I’m so close now. Just one step left, and if I
impress the Malekh and El Olam enough in my next job as a soul collector, then
I’ll become a Firn, and one day I’ll be even more than that. If I perform well
enough, I’ll be chosen as the Firn who oversees El Olam’s plan to defeat Narn
once and for all. It has to be one of us, so it might as well be me. And I
won’t stop until I see it happen.
Meanwhile, the Advokat extends his hand to me. “Best of luck to you. I
hope you make the cut.”
I glance at his hand and back up to him. So he really hasn’t
heard of me, then. I may not be a Firn yet, but I have made a name for
myself as the one to watch for earning the coveted position in El Olam’s plan.
Well, if he hasn’t heard of me yet, he will soon enough.
“Thanks.” With a smirk, I grip his hand and shake it firmly enough to
knock him off balance. “But I really don’t need luck.”











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KristaLyn is the internationally published author of seven books and one short story, including the upcoming Prelude of the Reyn Gayst series
releasing in 2018 from Glass House Press. She graduated in 2011 from
Susquehanna University with a degree in English Literature and began
traditionally publishing her novels the next year. KristaLyn is also a
certified health and life coach and enjoys infusing her stories with
motivational themes and characters from all walks of life.


KristaLyn lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and their corgi, Jack.


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