Hoopoe

Prologue

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Pia comes awake with a gasp.

She can’t see. That’s the first thing that grabs her attention. She brings her hands up and rubs at her eyes. They’re wet, or her hands are, but at least the more she blinks, the more her vision slowly clears up.

What she sees is the interior of some sort of container. One with her inside. Everything’s still fuzzy, and there’s a slight ringing in her ears, and she doesn’t understand anything. Something moves in front of her, and she tries to scream, but only ends up coughing up some kind of liquid instead.

Everything hurts. When Pia finally stops coughing up whatever was in her throat, she looks up and in front of her again. Her vision is clearer now, but all that she can see is the inside of the container and darkness beyond it.

Pia doesn’t know what to do. What the hell is going on? Slowly, she reaches out and touches the inside of the container she’s in. It’s wet and warm to the touch, and she hopes like hell that it’s not alive, whatever it is.

Looking down, Pia has to close her eyes against a sudden rush of dizziness and nausea. She swallows, even though her throat feels raw, and tries not to throw up. When the feeling passes, she opens her eyes to look at her feet. They’re bare, and with slow understanding, she runs her gaze up her legs, and then further. Pia is completely naked and soaking wet. Almost as though her body was just waiting for her mind to notice, Pia starts shivering uncontrollably.

What’s happening? What in the world is going on?

With every passing second, she’s feeling a little more aware of her surroundings. Enough to realize that she shouldn’t stay there, wherever she is. She doesn’t know how she got there, but she doesn’t belong in this place.

Shakily, Pia moves one leg. It trembles, but doesn’t collapse under her, and she takes a deep breath before moving the other leg. Pia clings to the side of the container as she steps out beyond it, blinking in the low light.

It shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does that there are other people there, too. Pia looks to her left and two others, a man and a woman, stare back at her blankly, soaking wet and also naked. To her right, there are seven more people of various ages and genders. One person, a man, seems to be walking back and forth steadily, and Pia realizes that he’s the movement she saw earlier. It was his shadow moving along the far wall.

Slowly, she turns around. The container she’s just stepped out of is big enough to hold a person, and that’s it. She’s never seen anything like it before. This is the craziest dream she’s ever had, or she’s in a science fiction movie, or something.

There’s no way that Pia just woke up in an actual cryogenic pod. Those don’t exist.

Now fighting against the urge to cry, Pia turns back around to face the others. She wants to demand answers, to shout at them and ask why she’s there and what’s happening, but she already knows it’s useless. Most of the others are fighting back tears themselves, or even openly crying. Seeing their sadness makes her own tears finally fall, and Pia loses the fight to try and keep everything inside.

It hurts. Her tears feel so hot against her chilly skin.

“What happened?” one woman asks, her voice hoarse and quiet. No one answers. No one knows.

“Lionel,” someone else says. It’s the man who’s been walking back and forth. How long has he been awake? He looks more aware than anyone else, though still wet and naked. He’s also clearly the oldest person there - somewhere in his fifties, if Pia had to guess. “My name’s Lionel.”

She supposes names are as good a place to start as any. “Cory,” someone else says.

“Judy.”

“Terrence.”

“Sam.”

“Sean.”

“Lydia.”

“Kyle.”

“Warren.”

She takes a deep breath and goes last. “Pia.” Her throat is just as raw as everyone else’s, her voice soft and strained.

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Pia wakes up and has no idea where she is or who these strangers are with her. All that she wants is to go home... but that's going to prove impossible for her or any of the others as they venture outside and realize the full scope of their situation. An amazing adventure is about to begin for Pia, as long as she can survive the journey.

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Want to find out what happens next? Read the full novelette here on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0838M6RWQ.

The Advent - New

Part 1 of The Shadows Series is now up on Amazon! Here's another preview for you.

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I don’t see the man that the shadow attached itself to last time, but I do see a shadow wandering around again. I follow behind it, feeling even more helpless than before. What if it attacks someone again? Is it even doing anything bad?

I want to tell myself no. That it’s harmless, or something. But I still feel so cold when I look at the shadow, as cold as I did lying in that stream, soaked through and in shock. No, I can’t ignore the shadow moving around people who are walking by unaware, especially when it drifts towards a playground. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I notice lots of younger kids around. Some parents are there, watching them or talking on their phones or just chatting with others, but none of their eyes are tracking the shadow as it slowly creeps forward.

I stop near some swings, not really knowing what to do next. Is this really happening? I want to think that this is all some hallucination of mine, despite how creepy that would be, but it would be much better than this shadow being real and moving around near a bunch of kids.

For a few minutes, though, nothing happens. The shadow doesn’t move on, but it doesn’t really get close to anyone around it, either. It just seems to be watching everyone, though there’s nothing remotely like a face on it that I can see. I wrap my arms around myself when I feel a sudden chill in the air, and then the shadow starts moving again, only this time with more purpose.

I’m also moving before I can think not to when the shadow hovers over a kid playing in a sandbox. He looks to be a little old for that, really, already in school, but he’s still a few years younger than me. I can’t just watch and stare again while the shadow does something to a little kid. Before I know it, I’m standing in front of him and he’s looking up at me skeptically, not that I can blame him.

“Hi,” I greet him awkwardly. I’m trying really hard not to notice the shadow hovering next to us. It stopped when I drew closer, like it was surprised. I feel scared that it’s there so near to both of us, but I don’t want to move away. What if it attacks the kid when I do?

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” the kid says, but he’s smiling. Unable to help myself, I smile back a little. He’s cute for a little kid. We both know adults mean other adults when they tell us that. None of the parents here are giving me a second glance for walking up to him, even though I’m the oldest kid here. It’s not like I look suspicious, dressed in regular jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers.

“Me, either,” I confess, mentally rolling my eyes at the memory of my dad’s concerned voice. He isn’t home a lot, except on weekends, so even though I have plenty of people to hang out with, he still sometimes worries that I’m going to run into a stranger and get stolen away or something. Parents are paranoid that way.

“I’m Alex,” the little boy says, introducing himself while holding out a hand that’s covered in sand. I can’t help but laugh, and return the handshake, sitting down right across from him in the sandbox. It’s not like I can’t brush the sand off later. And it’s a pretty decent sandbox, actually.

The shadow is watching us both now, and I’m trying not to shiver too much at its attention being on me now, too. I don’t know how I can tell, but the feeling of being watched is intense. I don’t like it.

“Me, too,” I answer cheerfully. “My name’s Alex.” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he eyes me up and down for a second before grinning wider.

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Want to check out the rest of the first book in this series? You can find it here on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07P1B7LX6.

The Journey of Their Souls

Part 1: Tristan and Mercurio

Chapter 1

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Mercurio walks down the various streets slowly, pausing every now and then when something strikes his interest, only to continue on a few moments later. He’s not really searching for anything in particular, but merely passing the time idly. The streets are packed with vendors selling wares and people chatting about their day, and all manner of children running about underneath everyone’s feet.

Without quite knowing anyone from the merchant class well enough to strike up a conversation with them, Mercurio feels like he’s standing in the center of a seething mass of humanity, yet removed and apart from it all the same. His fine clothes and expensive coat immediately define him as someone different from the rest. His boots alone are leather, well-made, and worthy of being killed for.

Still, Mercurio ignores the stares and ventures on, until he comes across the performance that he often comes to this particular street for. He likes to watch this one performer in particular, a talented young man, and Mercurio braves the streets most days in order to enjoy this small bit of entertainment.

‘Braves.’ As if there’s really any danger for him while he’s out among the public. No, Mercurio is sure that, while he’s in the middle of a crowd, he is safe. It’s while traveling alone through the quiet alleys and abandoned buildings that a man needs to fear for his life.

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Forever bonded, their two souls must find each other again and again. What fate awaits them in the next life? Wealthy and poor, officer and soldier, painter and musician, actor and author...

Part 1: Mercurio passes by an interesting street performer who he can't help but be drawn to. Tristan only wants a peaceful existence.
Part 2: Thomas fights for his people and country, but their time is running out. Malaki needs to keep his troops alive.
Part 3: Thane is a musician searching for an easy life. Michel wants to find his muse.
Part 4: Matthew is an actor given a challenging role. Trent is an author learning to love again.

The two of them must continue on this path together. Their journey is a search for peace in a world of sorrow and battle. Can there possibly be any joy to be found for them?

If you interested in reading this novel, check it out here on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N14BLQR.

All the Doors

Prologue

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It’s nighttime.

For some girls, that means getting into bed happily and quickly falling asleep. For me, that’s when I pull the covers up over my head and lie perfectly still, while I struggle to hear anything over the pound, pound, pound of my heartbeat. Hoping that I’ll hear nothing. Fearing (knowing) that I will.

I don’t cry, I don’t scream. Not anymore. I only lie here and wait for my bedroom door to click open.

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What does one see through the eyes of innocence? This is a simple take of a childhood full of pain and sadness. What can a child do when their door opens every night?

Want to read the rest? Check out All the Doors on Amazon here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GYBRRLW.

Return to Sender - Prologue

Return to Sender

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Prologue:

Everything all started when a small, unmarked package arrived mysteriously during the night.

In the morning, I found it sitting on my kitchen table when I went to make coffee. The wrapping paper was brown and plain, unadorned with any address or postage. The only writing on it was a short missive: ‘Return to Sender’. The message was written out in a pretty cursive across the top in red ink.

Needless to say, I was surprised and confused by this strange package’s sudden appearance. What was I supposed to do with this? Even more importantly, how had it appeared inside my apartment without me knowing? A quick internet search while the coffee was brewing didn’t yield me any answers. The post office didn’t sound like they’d touch it without some sort of proof of postage.

It seemed so personal, too. Not necessarily in a good way, either. My eyes couldn’t help darting to the front door, and I resigned myself to a thorough check around my home to make sure no windows were broken anywhere. There was nothing out of place, though. Nothing but that package.

Eventually, I decided to pour myself a drink and then sit down at my table and just open it, get rid of the suspense. I grabbed a knife, but it almost wasn’t necessary. The paper parted easily, and within was a small and light box barely longer than the width of my hand. It was a pretty red-brown that I assumed meant it was made from some kind of cherry wood. On the top was carved some designs that looked almost like an intricate Celtic knot, and when I lifted the box up to peer closer, I saw a tiny keyhole on one side.

An investigation of the discarded wrapping yielded nothing else, though. No key, and no note. Disappointed, I gingerly shook the box, turning it over to see if there was anything taped on the bottom. While I definitely heard something moving around inside, I still couldn’t see any way to easily open it. I pressed my fingers against the sides, wondering if it was one of those puzzle boxes, but no clever latches formed along the edges. The design on the top remained the same. After a few minutes, I carefully set it back down, feeling let down that I couldn’t seem to open it, and a hundred times more curious than before. On my way to get a second cup of coffee, I resolved to somehow solve the little box’s mysteries.

Though I couldn’t have known it at the time, the box would reveal its secrets to me all on its own, and I would regret learning them forever. The arrival of that box was the beginning of everything, the start of a war that would tear apart a world I didn’t even know existed back then, a war that would later become known as ‘The Seven Years of Blood’.

The Shadows Series Preview

Chapter One

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It’s not even the ghosts that are the problem.

Two months ago, Alex was horseback riding with her neighbor along one of their favorite trails. Something spooked Pepper, the bay mare suddenly halting before she swung to the side and took off into the woods. All Alex remembered after that was a blur of trees, the horse between her legs, and then nothing but open air. She was flying, then falling.

And then she was drowning.

She fell into the creek, hitting her head. If it wasn’t been for her neighbor following closely behind and pulling her up out of the water, she might have died.

As it was, her dad worried enough after that for three people, forbidding her from getting back on a horse for at least a month and wanting her to stay home from school for a week. Alex would have been more annoyed at all that if she wasn’t so worried herself. Not about almost drowning, which she didn’t remember anyway. It was the ghosts she could suddenly see everywhere that were the problem. At first.

Alex didn’t know why she kept their sudden appearance a secret, except that she didn’t think everyone freaking out even more was going to help anything. Besides, she didn’t even know if they were really there. Maybe hitting her head was causing her to hallucinate. Still, it really wasn’t a problem for her after a couple of weeks. She slowly became very good at completely ignoring them.

No, the ghosts, while unexpected, weren’t the problem. It was the other things she could now see that were disturbing. Alex didn’t even know what to call them, the dark, formless shapes she sometimes saw hovering around other people like detached shadows. And even then, maybe she wouldn’t have started to worry so much if she didn’t begin to notice that the longer one of them surrounded someone, the more of whatever they were sunk into and beneath people's skins, slowly covering them completely.

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Book One of The Shadows Series - The Advent - is now available here on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07P1B7LX6.

Untitled Prologue

August 15^th – year and place unknown

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I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I could choke. I am choking, spitting colorless bile into the cup of stagnant water sitting next to me on the polished end table. The two mix, and I know with a sudden clarity that nothing will ever separate them again. 

You knew. You always knew what was going on in my mind, even when that insight was the last thing I wanted. No, particularly when it was least desired. But really, you shouldn’t have interfered. I told you not to, but you’ve never listened to me. Still, I am truly sorry for what has happened between us, for the brash and truthful words said, words so full of venom they dripped acid on their way from my mouth to you, your mouth to me, leaking into the carpet and soaking the house with enough poison to rot the walls from the inside out and leave the shell of a festering corpse in their wake. I would have liked this to have ended differently. Indeed, out of anyone in the world, you are the one person who knew me best. We could have had a future together, could have been happy in our simplicity and ignorance. 

No, I’m lying. I could never have lived that way. Neither could you, I know. I could read your mind as well. That’s how I knew you would be here today. I knew you couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t let you do it though, couldn’t let you interfere. I’m sorry, my beloved, but really, once you learned her secret, you should have known that you had to die. I just don’t think either of us realized that I would be the one to kill you.

Everything’s all right now. It’s already happened. Sometimes, the past truly does override all, even the future. There’s no undoing it now, and really, I’ve never felt so at peace. Now that you’re gone, I never have to worry about her again.

Yet, now I find that I cannot live without you. It’s funny, isn’t it? It should be. I thought that slicing into the visible, vulnerable, viridian veins of my wrists would be easier than this, but the knife isn’t as sharp as it could be. There, it finally goes - the blood. I’ve always felt vaguely sick whenever I was bleeding from a large wound, but this pain is too sharp, too intense for me to feel queasy. I suppose I should be thankful for small favors. 

I hear laughter. Is that me? I sound like a demented man past his endurance. All that’s missing is a background whirl of machinery, booming thunder and flashing lightning, and- 

Oh, wait, that’s not me after all. It’s you.