The Resistance

About the Book

Title: The Matriarch Matrix

Author: Maxime Trencavel

Genre: Science Fiction, Adventure

The Matriarch Matrix – A speculative fiction novel of origins, faith, passion, and the pursuit of peace.

It was always his destiny to save her. It was always her destiny to die. The fate of the world hangs on their choices…

The past foretells her future…

What does it take to change a loving child of peace into an assassin for a dangerous and powerful oligarch? Zara Khatum knows. Once a fighter for her Kurdish people, the memory of the atrocities inflicted by her captors has Zara seeking one thing: vengeance. But the voices of the ancients call to Zara. In the past, in another life, she knew the secrets of the artifact…

Twelve thousand years ago…

She is Nanshe, revered matriarch of the family she led away from the monsters of the north. In the land that would one day mark the treacherous border between Turkey and Syria, she created the temples at Gobleki Tepe and founded a dynasty, heirs to a powerful object. For millennia, Nanshe’s descendants have passed down the legend of the artifact: “The object can save. But only a man and woman together can guide the salvation of others.”

Heirs to destiny…

By fate or destiny, Zara is thrown in with Peter Gollinger, a quirky Californian from the other side of the world and the other side of everything she believes. But he, too, is heeding the voices of his ancestors. Joined by Jean-Paul, a former Jesuit priest, these three people—from wildly different religions and cultures—must find a way to work together to solve a twelve thousand-year-old mystery of the powerful object that spawned a faith. The world teeters on the precipice of war. The outcome depends on them. And one of them is living a lie.

The Matriarch Matrix is a rich and deeply layered epic story – a spiritual odyssey with a heartbeat of an action adventure. It may make you think, ponder, reflect upon where we came from and where we are going. It blends our past with a speculative future of things that are not so far-fetched. It blends the drama, the comedy, the romance, the tragedy of three protagonists with different cultures, traditions, and beliefs – a Sufi woman, a Jesuit priest, and an alien origin believing atheist. Their journeys separately and together will be a test of their respective faiths and their inner search for personal and family redemption.

 

Author Bio

Maxime has been scribbling stories since grade school from adventure epics to morality plays. Blessed with living in multicultural pluralistic settings and having earned degrees in science and marketing, Maxime has worked in business and sports, traveling to countries across five continents and learning about cultures, traditions, and the importance of tolerance and understanding. Maxime’s debut novel was written and edited in different locations in Belgium, including the Turkish and Kurdish neighborhoods of Brussels, in South America, and on the two coasts of the United States.

Links

tailofthebird.com

https://www.facebook.com/MaximeTrencavel/

https://www.instagram.com/maximetrencavel/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17168784.Maxime_Trencavel

https://www.amazon.com/Maxime-Trencavel/

Get “The Matriarch Matrix” on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Matriarch-Matrix-Maxime-Trencavel-ebook/dp/B075R2DD4Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1506588760&sr=8-1&keywords=maxime+trencavel

Excerpts 

His eyes, once reddened, are now dark black. Not even his pupils showing. The giant man yells, “Zara, you know what you need to do. You know what happens to all who fail me, who deceive me. Kill Mei first, but make it a leg wound so Peter can see her die in agony in front of him. He needs to learn the price for deceit.”Aghast, Peter quivers. His lips want to cry out, but nothing comes out of his vocal chords. He looks to Jean-Paul. Another tall, imposing male who has the best chance of standing up to thismonster he has signed a contract with. But the former priest still has his eyes closed, seemingly in prayer. And from Peter’s point of view, these arehis last rites the priest is administering.He looks toZara. A woman distraught, in hesitation, indecision, in deep agony over the choices in front of her,seemingly in fear of the gun in her hand. He lifts Mei’shead and peers into her tear-ridden eyes. A deep,loving kiss on her forehead. And he says, “I would have loved to meet your mother.”To her surprise, he rises, helping hold her dress downas hebuttons the last open buttons. To Zara’s surprise, he steps over, respiration rate at max, and takes the gun from the box. Hands shaking, he hands it to her. “I love my family as much as you do. But I cannot be the reason for the suffering of your people.” And he stands in front of her, shaking, sniffling, eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable. He opens his eyes and says, “Pray for me. In case I’m wrong aboutour alien origins, then I’ll need someone to vouch for me with God.”Zara stares at the gun in her hand. She aims it between his eyes as he shakes uncontrollably. Those eyes. Those eyes. Her babies.Sasha will not get the satisfaction this time. This innocent boy from California is not the one who should die today. No more than Abram needed to die on Sasha’s yacht. It is time to make amends.Lowering her aim, she places the gun in his palm and wraps his fingers around it. As he stares at the instrument in his hand, she lifts the barrel to her heart and says, “Even, smooth trigger pull. It will be quick. I won’t suffer.”And there, Peter is frozen. As if he had been there for all of time. He quivers not. He quakes not. Only frozen. But he stares down the barrel into Zara’s well-covered breast. He mutters incomprehensibly.“Illyana.”

 

 

 

About the Book

Title: Framed – A Black Swann Investigation

Author: Wayne Kerr

Genre: Mystery / Thriller

Toronto’s newest homicide detective, Reggie Swann, seemed to have it all: great career, handsome husband and plans to start a family, until she was framed for murder…

A cop has very few friends in prison. After surviving ten brutal years behind bars, Reggie’s conviction is finally overturned thanks to her tenacious mother, a new forensic test and a very clever lawyer. She quickly discovers that getting her old life back won’t be as easy as she hoped. To many, she was still as the media had dubbed her: ‘Black Swann – murderer and cop-gone-bad’. The Toronto Police Department still considers her to be a suspect, Reggie’s husband has remarried and the real killer is still on the loose.

Before Reggie can return to Toronto and solve the crime that ruined her life, she reluctantly agrees to investigate a murder in her home town of Penticton, only to discover the two cases which are separated by ten years and five provinces might somehow be connected. Will anyone believe the wild theories of the disgraced detective?

The real murderer does. He framed her once, this time Reggie Swann must die!

 

 

Author Bio

 

Canadian author, Wayne Kerr, was born and raised in the small town of Biggar, Saskatchewan (New York is big, but this is Biggar). He married his high school sweetheart, Marlene, thirty-nine years ago and has lived happily ever since. They resided in the United States for the past twenty years, but recently returned to Canada and now call the beautiful Okanagan region of British Columbia home. The writer honed his story-telling skills while keeping his five younger siblings and later his daughter entertained during long cold winters. When not reading or writing thrillers, Wayne is probably hiking, biking or playing tennis.

For more information on the author and his books please visit: waynekerrnovels.com or follow him on twitter: @waynekerrnovels

 

Links

website: waynekerrnovels.com

twitter: @waynkerrnovels

Amazon :https://goo.gl/qQonNw

 

 

Book Excerpts

Framed – excerpt

 

A cop has very few friends in prison…

 

“Watch your back,” Wilma whispered as I stood to leave. Wilma didn’t say much to anyone. Over six feet tall and built like a man, the farm wife had literally shaken the life out of her husband when she’d discovered he’d been cheating with her teenaged sister. Referred to as a gentle giant for most of her twenty-five years, ten minutes of blind rage had erased that persona forever. I think we shared a kinship in the belief that we didn’t belong in this place. Wilma kept to herself, and most of the prison population, including me, tried their best to give her no reason to get angry.

I winked at her as I picked up my empty tray and magazine. I wanted to get down to laundry services before there was a lot of activity in the halls. As I deposited the tray I noticed three empty chairs at Laynie Garcia’s table, hers included. The rest of her crew chatted and laughed and avoided eye contact with me. Naturally, it would be Laynie, I realized.

Now I knew who, and since they were already absent, approximately when. So be it. Cameras watched over the main public areas, including the social and work areas. The bathrooms, showers and lesser-used hallways had none. To get to the laundry facility I needed to traverse several of these hallways, passing the ‘C’ Block showers and two bathrooms en route.

There were few secrets in this place. Everyone knew that I was leaving for a hearing tomorrow morning. If you had a score to settle with me, today might be the last opportunity. Laynie felt that she did. Relatively new to the facility, she’d been hell bent to build her reputation. After picking several fights and winning them all, she’d gotten much of the respect she desired. I guess she’d decided killing a former cop would give her kingpin status, because six months ago, without provocation, she’d attacked me in the showers. Fortunately, I’d felt her coming and managed to grab my towel before she reached me. I wrapped my arm and used it as a shield against the sharpened piece of rigid plastic she’d forged into a knife. Once I got hold of her and turned it into a wrestling match, my superior strength turned the tide in my favor. I broke two of her fingers prying the make-shift knife away and gave her a nasty cut across her cheekbone. A knee to the solar plexus left her choking and gasping for breath on the wet floor as I walked away without a scratch. I’d spoiled her perfect record; she couldn’t let that stand.

 

 

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I have read the book right before this one, and currently reading the first two books; I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW BOOK!!!!

About the Book

Title: Noble Magic: The Chronicles of Eledon Book Four

Author: Joni Parker

Genre: Fantasy

Lady Alexin (Alex) battles a band of mortal wizards known as the Octagon, discovers the mysteries of the five legendary diamond eggs, and finally comes into her true powers gifted to her by her conquests and the gifts of her Titan ancestors. Tasked with the seemingly impossible, Alex must find a way to restore the entry points to Seaward Isle or see its inhabitants face certain destruction as the grid holding Eledon together threatens to fall apart.

 

Author Bio

Joni currently lives in Tucson, Arizona, but she was born in Chicago, lived in Japan, graduated high school in Phoenix, and got married in New Jersey. Not only was she married to a career Navy sailor, but she also completed 22 years of active duty service herself. She holds a bachelor’s degree in accounting, an MBA, and a Master of Military Arts and Sciences (MMAS) from the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College. After her husband passed away, she returned to the work in the Department of Homeland Security until she discovered her love of writing. She retired again and has written two series, “The Seaward Isle Saga,” a three-book series, and “The Chronicles of Eledon” with “Spell Breaker,” “The Blue Witch,” “Gossamer,” and “Noble Magic.”

 

 

 

Links

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ParkerJoni

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJoniParker

Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JoniParker

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0747SFZLG/ref=pe_820620_248963730_em_1p_0_ti

 

 

Book Excerpts

From chapter 2:

A few minutes later, the Chamber Elf opened the door and led them inside. The members sat in large chairs around three sides of the room while the senior member, Lord Ashur, sat alone on one end—his long white hair dangled over his bright red robe. Alex and Prince Darin saluted and knelt before him.

“Rise, both of you. Prince Darin, I see you’re with the Keeper again. What’s this adventure? I sent the Keeper to check on the cottage, not to explore.” Lord Ashur leaned forward in his large chair and gazed with amusement from under his white, bushy eyebrows.

“I apologize for the interruption, my lord, but Lady Alexin arrived with an escort of a dozen rebels, now in our custody. Apparently, they were searching for some documents, but couldn’t find them. The Keeper did. And I’d like your permission to review them.”

“Keeper, show me these documents.”

Alex unrolled the scrolls, handing him one at a time. She smiled as she watched his eyebrows move up and down.

He passed them around to the other members. “How did you find them when the rebels couldn’t?”

“They were locked inside a vault in one of the bedrooms. I missed it the last time I was there. Not only did it have these scrolls, but it also had this.” She held up the black bag and pulled out the gold chest, handing it to him.

Lord Ashur gasped and stared at the beautiful chest. “What’s in here?”

“Open it.” Alex stepped back so Prince Darin could see.

He flipped the top open and pulled back the velvet cloth. “Oh my stars!” He picked up one of the large diamonds in his hand. It flashed rainbows on the ceiling and walls.

The members stared and gasped and gathered around his chair for a closer look.

“How many are there?” Lord Mesner stared at it, captivated by its beauty.

“Five.” Lord Ashur cocked his head to the side. “Could these be the legendary Diamond Eggs?”

“May I?” Lord Root asked. “I saw them before they were stolen and disappeared. I took my Elves to see them in Weston—they’re the Crystals of Life. Years ago, my uncle, Lord Dormus, brought them to Eledon from his visit to the Star Elves.” He slid off his chair and rambled over; his blue velvet robe dragged along the floor. Lord Root was the Pixie Elf representative on the Council and the newest permanent member. He wasn’t much taller than Alex’s knees.

 

Chapter 3:

Prince Darin bowed to Lord Ashur. “While I was waiting for the Keeper, one of my ship’s captains delivered an urgent report. As you know, every month, the Water Elves send supplies to Seaward Isle. Two weeks ago, two of my ships, the Rambler and the Crustacean, set sail for the island and were due to return four days ago, but they haven’t shown up yet. I’ve sent several ships out to check the entry points to Seaward Isle, but they can’t be found. I’d like the Mentors’ help.”

“Of course. The entry points are the only things holding Seaward Isle to Eledon.”

Lord Odin rose from his chair. “This could be a disaster, my lord. The Mentors must give it high priority. Seaward Isle must not detach from Eledon. It could fall into the mortal world and take us with it. It must be fixed. It can’t be overlooked any longer.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. This was a real problem. Concerned, she glanced at her grandfather. His face was pale and he was sweating. But she also knew he was depending on her to find a solution. She didn’t have a clue.

Lord Ashur frowned. “I agree this is a problem. Members, rise as we call upon the Mentors.” He rose slowly from his chair and raised his hands. “Mentors, greetings. We call upon you to assist us.”

In the middle of the room, a small flame appeared above the white pedestal. It was slightly larger than a man’s hand and emitted no heat—this was how the Mentors manifested themselves to the Elves. A female voice came from the flame.

“Lord Ashur and members…”

With a roar, the small Mentors’ flame erupted into a large fireball, touching the ceiling. From the raging fire, a man’s ugly face appeared and his deep voice boomed. He spoke in the mortal language called the common tongue; few in the room understood what he said. Alex, Lord Odin, and Lord Root understood it because they’d lived on Seaward Isle with mortals; Lord Ashur waved his hand to translate the man’s words into Elf.

“Who killed Shinjan?” The man’s dark beady eyes glared out at them. He had a large crooked nose; his skin was pasty-white, and he had a mane of scraggly black hair. When he opened his mouth, long flames of fire flowed out like snakes. “Who killed Shinjan?”

 

Chapter 4:

Off the coast of southern France, a luxurious yacht, at least eighty feet long with large windows and open spaces for sunbathing, rocked gently on the sea. In the lounge, four men sat on a leather sofa, watching the television monitor mounted on the wall with a view of Nemesis in the Elfin chamber. As he delivered his ultimatum to the Elves, the men cheered and shook their fists at the screen. When he ended his threats and the large fireball occurred, they burst into applause. The screen went black.

A few moments later, Nemesis entered the room through a black curtain to a standing ovation. He bowed, then pulled up his jeans and slicked his stringy hair away from his face. “I think they got the message. Ecstasy, get this stuff off my face.”

Ecstasy clapped loudly and beamed with pride. “Of course, my darling. Sit down. I knew you could do it.” Ecstasy was a man dressed as a woman and threw his arms around Nemesis’ neck and planted a wet kiss on his lips. As he backed away, he waved his wand. “Abracadabra presto change-o! I just love doing your make-up. I love everything about you.”

Nemesis’ nose shrunk in size and his color returned to tan. His ugliness was diminished, but didn’t go away. “All right, already. Stop it! Now get a message off to the Dynasty Sisters. They need go in first and get the wand.”

Ecstasy closed his eyes and waved his hands over the crystal ball. He mumbled a spell under his breath and peered inside. He leaned back with a sigh. “Oh dear! The girls have gone on a meditation retreat to mourn their grandfather Shinjan and can’t be disturbed for the next month.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me about this? We did this for them. I told you to keep in touch with them.”

“I asked them yesterday and they said they were going to be here. I’m sorry.” Tears filled his eyes. “They lied to me…again.”

“Damn it! Don’t cry.” Nemesis rubbed his forehead. “All right. Someone else will go. Who wants to go in first?”

Silence.

 

Chapter 5:

Takura pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back on his nose and smiled. “John, Oliva, good to see you today. Very windy outside.”

Olivia ignored the fact that he didn’t call her by her correct name. For some reason, he’d never been able to. “I’ve never seen it this windy before, have you?” She rocked baby Will in her arms.

“No, never. There must be problem with entry points.”

“As a matter of fact, there is. One of the Elf supply ships just came back. Tulus, the ship’s captain, told me that he couldn’t find them. We were wondering if you knew what that meant.”

Takura’s eyes grew large and he gasped, shaking his head. “None of them?”

“That’s what he said.” Olivia sighed. “What does it mean?”

“It could mean danger for us. We could separate from Eledon and crash into Earth. Not good. Wind may be symptom of problem.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“How’s your research going?”

“Difficult to study. Maybe Tulus will help us. I must ask him.”

“What about that other research you were doing on the ‘bubble,’ the shell over the island that keeps us inside?”

“I show you.” He led them to a table in the warehouse and smiled like the Cheshire Cat. “What do you think?”

“What is it?” Olivia leaned closer to it as John spun one of the propellers.

“A drone. We put camera on it and fly it into bubble.”

“Really? When?”

“Yesterday. Rangor took us on barge and we went close to edge, but we stay far enough away not to get into currents. We fly drone into bubble and bring back video.” He typed a command on the computer and a picture of him appeared standing on the barge with a remote control in his hands. The drone flew away and the camera pointed at the bubble. At first, the sky and sea appeared normal, but as the drone approached the bubble, the camera lens fogged up. Suddenly, the lens cleared; the drone spun around several times and the picture turned to static. When the drone hit something metallic, it was thrown out and the lens fogged up again. Just as the lens cleared, it approached the barge and landed. The last image was a close-up of Takura’s jubilant face.

 

 

Chapter 6:

Once all of the presentations were completed, Lord Ashur called on Lord Hillen during the recess. “Lord Hillen, you mentioned that you have an interest in wizards and wizardry. Have you ever heard of an organization of wizards called the Octagon?”

“I’m fascinated by wizards, but I’ve never heard of this organization before. What do they do?”

“According to this wizard, eight of them formed a group called the Octagon.”

“There have been several organized groups of wizards in the past. Each time, they attempted to match their magical skills to complement each other, trying to make their group invincible. However, the problem is that they’re mortal beings and have short lives. In addition, petty jealousies have caused great turmoil. In many cases, the members killed each other in a fit of rage.”

The entire chamber grew silent as the members turned to listen.

“It appears as if we’re all curious, Lord Hillen,” Lord Odin said. “Now, can you tell us more about wizards? The one who visited us was named Nemesis.”

“Nemesis?” Lord Hillen rubbed his chin. “And why did he come here?”

“The Keeper was assigned a task by the Mentors to remove a beast held in a vial. The only way to remove it was for the Keeper to kill the wizard who created the spell. His name was Shinjan. She killed him and released the beast as the Mentors requested. Now, however, this Nemesis claims that this wizard’s death upset the balance in this Octagon, and he must avenge the death before replacing the wizard.”

“An odd rule.”

“Indeed.”

“I can only surmise that the death of one of the wizards created a vacuum that is tearing the group apart. The wizards of today lack both the skill and discipline of those from years past. Nemesis is a famous name for wizards, selected to show bravado and a tendency to violence. Apparently, someone wishes to continue that tradition. But I’m shocked to hear that the wizards came here to Eledon. We ran the last one out. What is the Keeper doing to stay safe?”

“The wizard is after me, my lord. I confessed to killing him since I was the one who told her how to reverse the curse.”

 

 

 

About the Book

 

Title: Wrong Side of the Rift

 

Author: Libby Heil

 

Genre: YA Fantasy

 

 

 

Grape can’t unlearn what living in Sortilege Falls has taught her. Magic is real. Vampires live among us. And there’s a portal in her back yard that leads to another world.

 

A few weeks ago, Grape lived a quiet life with her family in Watts Landing. Now, she’s stuck in Sortilege Falls, searching for a way to rescue her brother from the other side of the rift. She’s connected to Brad through dreams and what she sees terrifies her. Brad is being tortured into performing magic and, even worse, he’s being forced to torture others.

 

Grape hounds the magic folk in town, seeking a way through the rift. Her mother’s memory’s been stolen. Her new vampire friend refuses to help. Grape must do it all alone. What she uncovers is a whole host of secrets about the town and her own family. And she’s not the only one hunting for answers.

 

Time is running out for Brad, but it might be running out for Grape as well.

 

Author Bio

 

I was born during a blizzard. I’m told it was pretty cool but I have no memory of that time. I grew up in two tiny towns in Virginia and spent most of my twenties moving around the US. I’ve lived in Virginia, Florida, Missouri, and Washington. I’ve settled down, for now, in Raleigh, North Carolina.

 

I’m a writer and improviser. I studied acting in college but spent more time rewriting lines than memorizing them. My first play, Fourth Wall, was produced my junior year. Since then, I’ve written several full length plays, one acts and screenplays. I started writing fiction in my late twenties. Now, I focus mainly on novels but still dabble in theater.

 

Fun facts about me: There are none. I’m sorry to disappoint you so soon. But, I do love to read, write, and run. My hubby is my favorite person on earth. Dogs are my second favorite. All dogs. I love orange juice, especially when it’s mixed with club soda. Carbonation is better than alcohol. Jaws is my favorite movie. Everything I’ve said so far is true.

 

Awards:

 

Puschcart Prize Nomination for “Grow Your Own Dad” – Published by Mixer Publishing

 

Semi-finalist Eugene O'Neill Playwrights Conference – “STUFF”

 

Honorable Mention The Ohio State Newark New Play Contest – “The Last Day”

 

Links

 

libbyheily.com

 

Instagram

 

Twitter

 

Facebook

 

Amazon

 

Goodreads

 

Book Excerpts

 

Excerpt One:

 

This scene takes place in a church parking lot just after a funeral. Grape has just gone to find out information about her brother’s whereabouts from one of her teachers and returns to find her mother flirting with a vampire:

 

"Oh, honey, I was wondering where you'd gotten off to," her mother said as she wandered back, lost in thought.

 

"Yeah, I saw someone I knew…" Grape stopped moving, her feet locked into place. Her mind had been so preoccupied with Milly and Mrs. Humphries that she hadn't seen who her mother was speaking with. The couple and their daughter had gone, leaving Liam in their place. He stood beside Dr. Merriweather, smiling in his all-black suit.

 

Her mother waved a hand toward Liam. "Have I ever introduced you to Mr. Sable? He's a nurse at the hospital."

 

"We're acquainted," Grape said, her voice devoid of good humor.

 

"How so?" her mother asked.

 

Why is Mom smiling so much?

 

"Liam knows Graeson," Grape offered through her clenched jaw.

 

"Oh? Our neighbor? How do you know him?"

 

"Liam owns a club Graeson belongs to," Grape said before Liam could answer.

 

"A club?" her mother asked, a bit of doubt creeping into her voice.

 

Liam smiled. It was hard to read his expression as his crystal blue eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. "I own a coffeehouse. It is very old and in desperate need of decoration. Mostly teenagers come. They play board games," he said in his thick Eastern European-ish accent.

 

"And dress up," Grape said, her heartbeat growing faster. She did not like the way Liam smiled at her mother or the way her mother looked at him.

 

"Yes." Liam chuckled. "I believe it is called cos-play. The kids, they like to dress up as superheroes or villains. It is a common thing, and in a town this small they have no place to do it."

 

"Maybe we'll drop by and check it out one day," her mother said. She touched Liam's arm. "I'm sure it doesn't need decorating as badly as you think."

 

She touched Liam's arm. Her mother touched Liam's arm.

 

"Mom, we should probably get Mandy home," Grape said, forcing herself to smile. Look normal, Grape, and get her the hell away from the vampire. She nodded toward Mandy, who stood beside Adam, arms crossed and tears dripping from her eyes.

 

"Oh, yes, you're probably right," her mother said, glancing at Grape before returning her attention to Liam. "I'll see you at work, I guess."

 

"I will be there."

 

Grape watched as her mother walked toward Mandy. When she was out of ear-shot, Grape turned to Liam, fury in her belly. "What the hell was that?"

 

"What? I came looking for you, to see how you are. I ran into your mother. I know her from work."

 

"You were flirting."

 

"I was being nice."

 

"Don't. My mother is off limits."

 

"Whatever you say, Grape Merriweather. I live to serve."

 

"If that's true, then take me to the Magic Lands."

 

"There are very few who could open that rift, and those few all live in…the Magic Lands."

 

"Then how did it open for Brad?"

 

"You would have to ask Brad."

 

Grape's hands balled up at her sides. She could feel a strange warmth growing through her body. "How the hell am I supposed to ask him anything if I can't get to where he is?"

 

"Exactly. It is over. He is gone. I am very sorry, Grape Merriweather. It will be best for everyone if you let this go."

 

"Nothing's over."

 

"You are spending too much time in the woods."

 

Grape balked. "What? Did my mother tell you that?"

 

"No." Liam sniffed the air. "But you smell of dirt and trees with a hint of desperation."

 

Grape opened her mouth to protest, but Liam inclined his head toward her mother, who stood staring at them, her arm wrapped around Mandy.

 

"Enjoy the ride home."

 

Excerpt Two:

 

Grape’s brother, Brad, was forced through a rift into a parallel universe where magic is the norm. Grape is still connected to him through dreams. Here, she encounters Brad in dream-form for the first time.

 

"Uuuuugh," Brad moaned as he opened his eyes. The darkness had been a better, more forgiving place. Waking up only returned him to his new reality. The cave came into focus: the burnt ashes of last night's fire, his own dirty backpack crammed with the objects of a former life, the dead man sitting patiently by the mouth of the cave—his mud-caked robe creased stiffly around his body, and the couple huddled in the shadows. Their whimpers grew louder as Brad sat up.

 

"Tomorrow, you will wake up earlier," the dead man said in his dry voice.

 

Brad ignored the rotting corpse and turned his attention to the cowering couple. "It's okay." He raised his empty hands palm up to show that he bore them no ill will.

 

The woman buried her head in the man's chest. They sat shaking into one another, two skeletons covered in loose skin and scars.

 

"Don't bother with them. They probably don't understand a word you're saying."

 

Brad reached for his glasses, forgetting that he no longer wore them. That was the first thing the dead man had done, poured a potion in his eyes and bound them for two days. Poor eyesight was a weakness they could ill afford, the dead man had told him. Blinded, they'd moved him to this cave, well away from the rift that could lead him home. Orzael, the cat man, had hunted as the dead man cared for Brad. But the dead man wasn't the only one who stayed with him. Brad could feel someone in his mind, exploring his thoughts. Brad called him the Other. Occasionally, Brad had been able to pick up on a few thoughts of the Other as well.

 

"They're frightened. And hurt," Brad said, moving slowly toward the couple. "Those are new cuts on her arm."

 

"Yes. Search your mind. You'll remember them."

 

Brad didn't want to search his mind, didn't want to remember what he'd done under the Other's influence, but the images came back unbidden. His hands flicking by his sides, chanting in a language he didn't understand, the slashes appearing across the woman's arms. Red, bloody gashes cutting into the brown skin.

 

"You know the incantation now," the dead man said. It was not a question.

 

Of course Brad knew. He knew every one they'd taught him. Even when it was the Other who took over his body and performed the spells, Brad knew them. He was always there with the Other, and not there. Alive, but not in control, and completely unable to forget what the Other had made him do.

 

"Here," Brad said, handing a canteen of water to the man huddled in the darkness. He could just make out wild eyes staring at him. The man wore torn rags, revealing skin-sheathed bones beneath. How long had it been since these two had had enough to eat? Years, it looked like. The man's skin was the color of milk chocolate, the parts that weren't caked in dirt. Brad watched as the man scooted farther back, trying to press his body into the rock wall behind him. His grip on the woman grew tighter and she whimpered under his embrace.

 

"I gave them water this morning and some boiled roots to eat."

 

Brad left the canteen at their feet and joined the dead man at the mouth of the cave. He stood, looking out at the hilly terrain. Rocks and dirt and clumps of yellowing grass were all he’d seen of this new land since his vision had returned. "Is Orzael out hunting?"

 

The dead man nodded, his head bowing to his chest and back, loose on his neck. "Your lessons will begin after breakfast."

 

"No," Brad said. "No more. Please." His first few days' lessons had been simple, learning to harness the magic within him. He'd been taught to turn plants different colors, to manipulate the light and shade to make a boulder appear to be a doll's house. Brad had been excited in those days, if lonely. The Other had touched his memories, learned his mind, but hadn't interfered. Then, one night, Orzael had returned with the couple. They'd already been through something terrible. The scars on their bodies and the way they shook and slumped as they moved told him that. And their eyes, awake and distant, as if they'd had lots of practice pretending they weren't there at all. Brad had supposed that Orzael had found them foraging in some nearby woods, that he had brought them here for the dead man to help them. He had been very, very wrong.

 

"A gift from your grandfather," the dead man had told him. It was the first time Brad had heard the Other named, though he'd already gleaned the information from the Other's mind. My grandfather, Ravanuri.

 

"Who are they?"

 

"Who they are is none of your concern. They are for you to practice upon."

 

"Practice healing?" Brad had asked, taking in their sunken cheeks and wild eyes. A blistering burn covered the woman's cheek. Could he rid her of the pain or maybe even make the burn disappear completely? His mind reeled with possibilities, and he felt the Other's presence. He reached out with his mind and inspected the Other's thoughts. He found a spell that could at least rid a cut of infection; perhaps he could use it on her to see if the burn would heal more quickly.

 

"No," the dead man had said, his milky-white eyes boring into Brad. "You are not a Healer, boy. Your task is far more important."

 

"Than what? She needs our help."

 

The dead man had taught him a spell, urged Brad to repeat it, but Brad had refused unless the dead man told him what the spell would do. The dead man struck him, even had Orzael slap him with his meaty paw, but Brad had resisted. Then the Other had taken over. White heat engulfed Brad's body like flames. He felt his own mind receding, becoming a spectator as his arms flailed, his voice calling out the words the dead man had taught him. There was pain. And helplessness. And fear. Brad fought, but the Other was too strong. He watched, paralyzed, as the Other, his grandfather, a man named Ravanuri, used Brad's body to perform the spell. The couple, crying in the middle of the cave, flew backward as if thrown by a strong wind. Brad could still hear the sick thud of their bodies hitting the hard rock wall.

 

He shook the memory from his mind. What was done was done. Now, he had to figure out a way to keep the couple from getting hurt anymore.

 

"I won't do it," he said.

 

The dead man turned his attention away from the landscape and focused solely on Brad. His milky-white eyes had taken some time to get used to, but Brad wasn't sure if he would ever grow accustomed to the blue veins that snaked the man's pale skin or the thin, bone-white lips that stretched in a straight line across his face. But worst of all were the dead man's rotting teeth, small and brown. A cloud of sour odor surrounded him and grew worse when he spoke. "You don't have a choice."

 

Excerpt Three:

 

Grape is growing frustrated in her search to find her brother. None of the magical creatures living in Sortilege Falls will help her. Though normally averse to exercise, Grape decides to go for a run to clear her head, and she thinks she spots an old friend/enemy.

 

Grape rounded the corner and jogged onto her block. Nearly home. Good. Three miles was way farther than she'd intended to run though her legs still felt good and she hadn't gotten too sweaty yet. She hadn't jogged since she'd tried out for a part in Aliens, a student production in Watts Landing. She'd gone for the Sigourney Weaver role but hadn't been cast. It was the only production she'd been left out of in her home town. She hadn't really wanted to run now, but she'd been too antsy after school to just sit in her room. She'd thought about hiking through the woods but she knew she'd just end up by the tree, wishing for Brad to be back.

 

Her house grew larger as she jogged closer. Good. She wanted a shower and maybe six plates of dinner. Grape compelled her legs to go faster. "Move it!" she commanded and sped up. Her mind flashed to running toward the portal in the woods, surrounded by gnomes. They were leading her to the tree, to the rift, and to Brad. But she'd been seconds too late, only able to jump half way through the portal before the cat man caught her and pulled her back to Sortilege Falls. If it hadn't been for Liam, she'd be dead for sure. The cat man had found the idea of tearing her to shreds quite pleasurable.

 

Grape broke into a sprint. Thoughts of having to maybe outrun that furry bastard one day pushed her to the breaking point. Her ribs ached and a stitch ran through her side but still she pushed. What if she had to outrun him when she first landed in the Magic Lands? Maybe he would be standing guard on the other side of the rift? Her ribs burned but she didn't stop. She was almost there.

 

Something small and red caught her eye. Grape glanced at her neighbor's lawn and spotted a gnome sitting at the base of the mailbox.

 

"Auuuuuuugh!" she screamed as she leapt for the gnome. Clutching him in her arms, she tumbled through the thick grass. She rolled to a halt on her neighbor's driveway, clumps of dirt and grass sticking to her sweaty legs.

 

"Take me to Brad!" she screamed at the gnome. She held him up to her face so she could look him in the eye. "Take me to…" her voice fell as she took in the painted beard and the unmoving eyes and cap. The gnome was a statue. An inanimate statue. Grape sat up, the gnome resting on her lap. Dammit.

 

Excerpt 4:

 

The Models have just returned to school. Their otherworldly beauty is gone and so is their power over their fellow students. Some adjust well, some don’t. Grape does her best to protect her friends, but as you’ll see, it isn’t always easy.

 

Graeson hovered just outside the cafeteria doors. He smiled when he saw her approaching and gave a quick wave.

 

"I'm starving. Not literally, but you know what I mean," Grape said, thinking of people who were actually starving. She'd forgotten to pack a lunch that morning or any snacks. Her tummy rumbled as she searched her purse for a few dollars.

 

"I might be able to spare some of my sandwich. I haven't been super hungry lately," Graeson offered.

 

"What'd you bring?"

 

"PB and J."

 

"That sounds like heaven. I'll take whatever you don't finish, but no worries. I have money in here somewhere. And Bam! Found it." Grape pulled a crumpled five dollar bill out of her bag and held in front of Graeson, savoring the small victory.

 

"Good. I kind of want all my sandwich."

 

"Can I have a bite?" she asked, now that her mouth was watering for creamy peanut butter and sweet jelly.

 

Graeson made to answer, but his words were drowned out by a scream from down the hall.

 

"What the…" Grape said, peering at the backs of students as they huddled into a mass. They swarmed the middle of the hall, circling around a small space. "What's going on?"

 

"Looks like a fight." Graeson's body tensed. "We should head into the cafeteria.

 

"Uh-huh," Grape said, but she kept her gaze locked on the crowd.

 

"Get him, Reggie!" someone yelled.

 

A book bag flew into the air from the middle of the pack. Grape recognized the Gucci bag. It might not be too long before the twins' aunt made Xavier sell his expensive accessories as well as their cars, but she hadn't yet.

 

"Crap, come on," Grape said, jogging toward the crowd. She had to push her way to the front. A hefty kid with huge, hulking shoulders held Xavier in a headlock. He punched the former Model in the face, and Grape saw blood spurt onto the floor.

 

"Hey!" she screamed, stepping forward, not sure what she could do. She tried to grab the guy's arm to stop him from hitting Xavier again, but the kid swatted her away. She tripped backward and landed hard on her rear, sending a jolt of pain through her body.

 

Anger raged in her belly as her ribs throbbed. Grape struggled to her feet. The giant kid picked Xavier up and held him in the air as if the former Model weighed no more than a child. "Put him down," she yelled, but her voice was drowned out by the crowd. They cheered to see Xavier body-slammed.

 

Grape heard a low growl and was surprised to find that it was coming from her. She took a step forward, her fists clenched and ready.

 

Two kids standing in the front row, red-faced from yelling, were shoved aside as Lonnie plowed through them. He landed two quick punches to the big kid's mid-section. The kid dropped Xavier, who landed heavily on his side.

 

"Ugh," Xavier moaned as Lonnie reached down to help him to his feet.

 

"Look out!" Grape yelled as the kid raised a ham-sized fist in the air. But he moved too slowly. Lonnie landed a kick to the giant's crotch before the boy could throw his punch. The boy stood still for a moment, his hand still raised. His face slowly turned red as he folded over, falling hard to the ground. Xavier stood and thrust his boot into the kid's stomach.

 

"You okay?" Lonnie asked his brother.

 

Xavier grabbed his book bag from the ground. He used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the blood from his nose. "I'm fine," he grunted.

 

Graeson grabbed Grape's arm and pulled her back into the crowd.

 

"Where were you?"

 

"Stuck in the back. We gotta go."

 

"But Lonnie's..."

 

Graeson pointed at the teachers rushing toward them. "We gotta go."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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