When her mother is taken from her in a terrible accident, Alexis finds herself facing some previously unknown truths. Her best friend, Keats, is her only confidante when she is faced with an apparent stalker who claims that Alexis’ entire life is built around a lie. Alexis is suddenly thrown into a whirlwind world of danger and secret agendas, of demigods and deities.
When a brutal, self-righteous god decides that Alexis is his best hope for retrieving an ancient artifact, she finds herself on the self-discovery journey of a lifetime - tracking a killer and a kidnapper - and facing conniving and dangerous foes along the way.
She will have to come to grips with who she truly is and just what she might be capable of if she is to survive long enough to save the one person in the world for whom she cares most.
Ancient Greek mythology comes to life in this unique coming-of-age tale that spans the globe and the heart of a girl who only wants to be normal. But, just what is normal in a world like this?
When a brutal, self-righteous god decides that Alexis is his best hope for retrieving an ancient artifact, she finds herself on the self-discovery journey of a lifetime - tracking a killer and a kidnapper - and facing conniving and dangerous foes along the way.
She will have to come to grips with who she truly is and just what she might be capable of if she is to survive long enough to save the one person in the world for whom she cares most.
Ancient Greek mythology comes to life in this unique coming-of-age tale that spans the globe and the heart of a girl who only wants to be normal. But, just what is normal in a world like this?
CL Stegall
Excerpt Time!
The
halls of the Eighth Ward were stark and clean, in direct contrast to the minds
and souls of the patients who resided within its austere walls. The smell of
antiseptic and medicine permeated the air as Dr. Marcus Hough made his way to
Room 823.
Hough,
a former child psychologist who was now a professor at New York University,
held onto the file and clipboard so tight that the knuckles of his left hand
were white. His expression was of controlled anxiety that melded into a forced
smile as he approached the security guard sitting outside the room.
"How
we doing, Leon?" he asked, his voice quiet but friendly.
"Oh,
I'm just peachy, Doc," the guard replied, and then jerked a thumb toward
the door he guarded. "As for that one, I can't make any promises."
"Understood,"
Hough said, nodding. "Give me a few minutes?" Leon grunted as he
coaxed his considerable bulk from the chair to retrieve his keys and unlock the
door. Before he moved aside to allow Hough entrance, he glanced at the doctor.
"You
be careful in there. Okay, doc?"
"You
bet, Leon," Hough replied.
The
deadbolt on the private hospital room door slid open with a thunk. Peeking
around the thick door into the stolid white room, Hough edged inside as the
door shut and locked behind him. With wary eyes he scanned the room.
The
blinds of the windows were open only far enough to allow knowledge of the
approximate time of day, with sparse lighting provided by the overhead
fluorescents. There was an undisturbed hospital bed and several machines on
either side with wires and tubes trailing to and fro. The heart monitor, which
stood on the nearest side of the bed, beeped with monotonous regularity. Wires
fell from the monitor along the cold tiles of the floor and up to the final
machine, a regulator for the intravenous drip. The wires then extended to the
young raven-haired girl who sat, head lolling, in the wheelchair situated near
the center of the room.
Hough
dragged a visitor's chair over to sit facing the girl. He paused, his eyes
focused on her with intense curiosity. Removing the cap from his faithful
Montblanc, he began to jot notes on the paper, glancing once or twice at the
contents of the file. He leaned forward toward the girl, who had just had her
fourteenth birthday, and turned his face to hers.
"Heather,"
he said, making his first attempt to gain her attention through the flow of
sedation. Her eyes flickered a little at the sound of her name, but she
remained far from lucid. "Heather? Can you hear me?" he asked, knowing
full well that she could. He kept his voice low, as if hesitant to frighten or
even disturb the girl.
The
heart monitor beeped a half beat faster and Dr. Hough's eyes widened, staring
at the teenager in worried anticipation. He saw her lick her lips and the
fingers on her right hand, which rested palm up in her lap, twitched. The
doctor sat back in his chair, regaining his composure, scribbling a few more
notes on the pad, as the regulator spit out a string of squiggles on a length
of computer paper, the fluid in the I.V. increasing one drop per minute. Hough
cleared his throat.
"Heather,"
he said, "do you think we could talk for a few minutes? I'd really like
that. Would that be okay?"
"Why?"
Heather's voice cracked on the small word, as if she had not spoken in some
time. It was soft but intelligible.
"Do
you know why you're here?" Hough asked. He had asked the same question
twice before on his previous visits. A small nod was her response. "Do you
know why you're sedated?" Another nod. He hesitated before the next
question. "Do you remember how your mother died?"
The
beeping from the monitor sped up and the regulator spit out some more squiggles
as Heather raised her head to look at Dr. Hough with crystalline blue eyes that
made him sit up straight, a cold chill running the length of his spine.
"Yes," she replied. Her voice was stronger now.
Hough
glanced over at the regulator without thinking and when he looked back at
Heather she wore a knowing expression. He scribbled more notes. The beeping on
the monitor resumed its normal pace and Hough stared at the girl who, though
still heavily sedated, appeared to regard him with clear and lucid eyes.
"Are
you feeling okay today?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Do
you want to talk about what happened?"
"No."
"Why
not?" he asked, his pen gliding across the notepad.
"Won't
make any difference." She kept her gaze connected to his. She didn't
blink.
"Any
difference to what, Heather?"
"My
fate."
"You
believe you have a fate?" he asked, his curiosity overriding his
self-preservation instinct. It was a side-effect to his training as a
psychotherapist. In this particular case, he was trying hard to suppress it.
"We
all do," she replied. "Whether we like it or not."
"Do
you know your own fate, then? That seems unusual. No one knows what the future
holds, right?"
"We
make our own fate."
"But,
that's contradictory, Heather."
"Is
it?"
"What
is your fate then?" Hough's attention was drawn to the heart monitor whose
beeping began to increase. "It's okay. Everything is fine."
"Nothing
is fine," she said, as the regulator began pumping more sedative into her
veins. "Nothing is fair. I didn't choose this. I can't handle it all.
Father will be so disappointed." Her words began to slur with the influx
of sedative. She stared at Hough with saddened eyes.
Hough
thumbed through the file and found no record of any father. She appeared to be
illegitimate. He reached over to pat her leg but hesitated just before contact,
thinking better of taking such a risk.
"Heather,"
he asked, careful in his tone, "Who is your father?" He heard the
monitor begin to slow to a crawl and her words were barely audible.
"The
skies and storms."
Hough
watched as she fell into unconsciousness. The regulator was designed to keep
her from becoming too self-aware, both for her own safety and that of those
around her.
He
stood and replaced his chair in the far corner, knocked on the door for Leon.
Glancing back towards Heather, Hough realized that he was in over his head with
these abominations. He needed a better manner in which to deal with this;
something with which he could distance himself. After this one.
As the
door closed and the lock snapped shut, Heather sat alone, lost in her
subconsciousness. Even as her eyelids flickered, the words escaped her lips in
a breath:
"Skies
and storms."
This was an EXCELLENT book; one of my favorite Indie reads! Superb writing!
ReplyDeleteSounds very interesting!
ReplyDeleteMy favorite book would probably be The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
ReplyDeleteMy favorite is Coveted by Shawntelle Madison.
ReplyDeleteOh gosh, so many favorites. I'm gonna say my current favorite is The Hunger Games Trilogy.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite book is The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. It's so good.
ReplyDeleteooh, that excerpt! :D but I do not have a favorite book. I have yet to find one that i can irrevocably claim as my favorite.
ReplyDeleteAngelfall by Susan EE
ReplyDelete