I feel privileged to be hosting a blog spot for this book. Personally, I think it is a real winner. Read on–I think you’ll agree:
Amber Stone, once a child prodigy, has just become curator of a special collection of Macedonian artifacts for the Seattle Museum of Natural History. Chloe, a prodigy of a different sort, holds a position at the museum focusing on tribal art. The two become fast friends, united by Amber’s unsettling dreams and Chloe’s unorthodox ways of dealing with them. Two strangers arrive in town, bringing with them a prophecy recorded more than three-thousand years ago, a prophecy that places Amber directly in the midst of a battle that has spanned a millennia.
Good setting. Seattle is a great place for this venue–fun but strange. Pretty much like the entire Northwest. I should know–I live there.
So–who’s ready for an excerpt?? Oddly enough, the book cover goes well with this snippet.
Flames surrounded her. Amber floated among them, naked again. She could smell the sweet and nauseating odor of burning flesh, but it was not her flesh. She looked at herself, saw the flames surrounding her body, and still felt inexplicably cool. Flames caressed her legs, licked at her back, and mingled with her hair, but she remained undamaged. From beneath her she heard screams, loud and torturous, rising to a feverish pitch and then ending in gagging coughs. As soon as one faded others began, and Amber tried but failed to look through the fire to see the people consumed by the flames.
From above, Amber heard more cries of pain, but these were different. Howls and whines replaced human voices, reminding her of dogs squealing in pain. A new odor assaulted her, the deep smell of burning hair. Finally, the yells, howls, and squeals came at once, a cacophony that grew in intensity and power until she shut her eyes, pulled her hands to her ears, and screamed herself.
The noise of Amber’s scream was unearthly; even as she opened her mouth it seemed to her that the voice came from elsewhere. She opened her eyes and put her hands down, but found her lips still parted and the hollow, overpowering eruption from within didn’t stop. It grew in volume until she could no longer hear the cries of those dying in the flames. She felt her throat growing strained from the effort and wondered why she hadn’t stopped screaming. Finally, she placed one hand on her chin and one on the top of her head and pushed her mouth shut.
Silence—it fell like a blanket over Amber, smothering the flames beneath it. She was still floating, but below her was an ocean of bodies. Men, women, children, dogs—all charred beyond recognition. Not dogs, wolves. Some were still locked in battle. She saw a wolf, body still smoking from the flames, with its mouth still locked on the throat of a man burned so completely that his arm was only an ash covered skeleton. There were at least a hundred dead people and twice that number of wolves. The stench was overpowering, choking her, and tears flowed down her cheeks as she tried to breathe.
Suddenly the ground was clear and she sat on a bench watching small children playing on a jungle gym. A little girl in a bright orange shirt and white Capri pants skipped along singing, “The hour, the hour, the hour, born without knowledge of power.” She watched a toddler at the top of the jungle gym climbing unsteadily. He’s going to fall! Amber tried to stand and found she could not. She watched in horror as the little boy fell. It was about a nine-foot drop, but the boy fell slowly, his overalls rippling with the wind, his dark brown hair flying up over his face.
Suddenly a wolf was there, and it caught the boy in its mouth. Amber braced herself for the sound of teeth tearing into bone and flesh, but they were gone. The jungle gym was gone. The singing girl was gone, and Amber sat on the bench surrounded by a misty red fog.
“You’re the child of prophecy.” Amber stared. The man from the park, the one with the sideburns, sat on the bench beside her and held out the little boy. No, not a boy—it was a doll with a ceramic head.
Wow–what an imagination! Where does she get her ideas?
Here she gives us a look into her life, and what makes her tick:
Having been born and raised in Hawaii, I loved telling stories ever since I was a child about vampires, werewolves, angels, demons, and witches. I was a little girl who loved scary stories, much to my mother’s dismay. The scarier – the better. Hawaii was a perfect place for stories until I moved to Seattle. I decided to turn a love for the supernatural into writing stories to see if others would love them as much as I do. Currently, I live in Florida but since I’m a Seattle girl at heart, my stories take place in the Northwest. I continue to write supernatural stories of vampires, werewolves, witches, and more while enjoying the beaches and sunshine. I also love to help others and give back to my community.
Well, alrighty then. I hope Barb has great success with all of her efforts, both in writing and in her community services.
Here’s where the discerning reader of the paranormal can find this offering:
Barnes & Noble: