Thirteen years after the brutal murder of Treva Evers’ entire family, a cloaked stranger shows up just in time to save her from the same fate. When he disappears as quickly as he appeared, she is drawn into an underworld replete with magic and long forgotten customs, a place where nothing is as it seems, including her mysterious savior, and every word or action could result in brutal consequences.
*Note* 18+ - Contains sexually explicit content. No cliffhangers. Contains additions scenes and over 3K more words than ARC.
After sipping her last drop of liquid energy, she slipped the coffee mug and prized coffeemaker back into her shoulder bag. In addition to the coffee cup, the pink leather bag held one microwave-safe covered plate, one multi-purpose terra ceramic pan, and a set of stainless steel utensils. The small bag fit neatly into a rollaway with compartments for each category of her necessities, including her 11” laptop with a hidden IP address provided by her benefactor. Since she was always packed for a fast getaway, there was no room in her life for extra baggage of any kind.
The refrigerator that had come with the furnished apartment remained empty, and with the exception of coffee, a giant Hershey’s chocolate bar, and peanut butter crackers, her white kitchen cabinets simply served as decorative woodwork. She bought fresh produce, prepared her meals each day, and gave whatever leftovers she had to the stray cats and dogs that always seemed to find her no matter where she lived.
Continuing her daily ritual, she pulled the laminated, aged magazine article from a hidden compartment in her bag, sliding her fingers over it reverently. The encapsulated picture of her mother, father, and three brothers always pulled her right back into that moment, a whirlwind of loss, pain, and upheaval, yet she returned to it regularly, as if she needed the reminder:
Renowned archaeologist, Daniel Evers, his wife, Kiswanna, and their three sons, Daniel III, Knight, and Kamau, were found dead in their Pensacola, FL home yesterday at 4:30 p.m. Daniel was known for his contributions to the British Museum, the Smithsonian, and a number of others. Dr. Kiswanna Ungoji Evers gave up a high-level position as a physicist and geologist to start a family. She worked as a librarian. The case is under investigation…
Her favorite ocean sounds CD, also on automatic timer, blared to life, drawing her attention back to the present, and she assumed a scissor-like supine position on the hardwood floor to begin her 60-minute evening drill. She had developed the drill over time to strengthen every muscle and joint in her body. From this position, even her pinky was forced to gain strength and hold its own. She had always been small in stature, and she’d trained long and hard so every pound would exert more force than its actual weight.
She remembered sparring with her older brothers. Treva smiled as she thought about them teasing her. Daniel, the eldest, lovingly called Trey, along with Knight and Kamau, would take turns lifting her upside down with one arm, then force her to free herself from their grips. Later in life, their embarrassing pranks had paid off time and time again, as she had yet to find a situation she couldn’t get out of.
Ignoring stiff muscles, sustained injuries, and groaning sore spots, she allowed the sounds from the CD to take her mind elsewhere. Ever since the day she had returned to find the remains of her family, ripped apart and strewn from one end of their home to the other, the course and purpose of her life had been determined.
Long before the consideration of dreams, desires, or interests, this reality had become hers, and the thought of her quest being over, having choices and possibly finding some semblance of normalcy, left her confused and lost—a lion with no pride, a shell of whomever she was to become.
Without the mission to avenge the massacre of her family, Treva had no purpose.
The refrigerator that had come with the furnished apartment remained empty, and with the exception of coffee, a giant Hershey’s chocolate bar, and peanut butter crackers, her white kitchen cabinets simply served as decorative woodwork. She bought fresh produce, prepared her meals each day, and gave whatever leftovers she had to the stray cats and dogs that always seemed to find her no matter where she lived.
Continuing her daily ritual, she pulled the laminated, aged magazine article from a hidden compartment in her bag, sliding her fingers over it reverently. The encapsulated picture of her mother, father, and three brothers always pulled her right back into that moment, a whirlwind of loss, pain, and upheaval, yet she returned to it regularly, as if she needed the reminder:
Renowned archaeologist, Daniel Evers, his wife, Kiswanna, and their three sons, Daniel III, Knight, and Kamau, were found dead in their Pensacola, FL home yesterday at 4:30 p.m. Daniel was known for his contributions to the British Museum, the Smithsonian, and a number of others. Dr. Kiswanna Ungoji Evers gave up a high-level position as a physicist and geologist to start a family. She worked as a librarian. The case is under investigation…
Her favorite ocean sounds CD, also on automatic timer, blared to life, drawing her attention back to the present, and she assumed a scissor-like supine position on the hardwood floor to begin her 60-minute evening drill. She had developed the drill over time to strengthen every muscle and joint in her body. From this position, even her pinky was forced to gain strength and hold its own. She had always been small in stature, and she’d trained long and hard so every pound would exert more force than its actual weight.
She remembered sparring with her older brothers. Treva smiled as she thought about them teasing her. Daniel, the eldest, lovingly called Trey, along with Knight and Kamau, would take turns lifting her upside down with one arm, then force her to free herself from their grips. Later in life, their embarrassing pranks had paid off time and time again, as she had yet to find a situation she couldn’t get out of.
Ignoring stiff muscles, sustained injuries, and groaning sore spots, she allowed the sounds from the CD to take her mind elsewhere. Ever since the day she had returned to find the remains of her family, ripped apart and strewn from one end of their home to the other, the course and purpose of her life had been determined.
Long before the consideration of dreams, desires, or interests, this reality had become hers, and the thought of her quest being over, having choices and possibly finding some semblance of normalcy, left her confused and lost—a lion with no pride, a shell of whomever she was to become.
Without the mission to avenge the massacre of her family, Treva had no purpose.
💕 Click here to learn more 💕
Read on ANY device, or try a Kindle eReader
(4 colors to choose from!)
💕 Click here to learn more 💕
She is a classically trained mezzo-soprano and pianist who started singing with perfect pitch before she could walk, then fell in love with books and started reciting stories at the age of 3. Dariel plays over 11 musical instruments, including piano, organ, brass, and percussion.
Her stories tell of shifters, vamps, angels, demons, and fey (the Vodouin variety). Dariel is currently writing two series: "Dark Sentinels" (wolf shifters), and "Orlosian Warriors" (Vampire-like Nephilim).
For more about Dariel, follow her 'Musings' blog or visit her website. She also publishes a VIP Readers' Club newsletter. If you enjoyed one or more of her books, please post a review on review sites, and of course, click the follow button on Amazon to receive notifications about new releases. Join her VIP book club for updates, insider information, and access to early review copies of her books: https://darielraye.com/VIPbookclub/
💕 Subscribe to Dariel's newsletter and get FREE eBooks 💕
Win a signed copy
(2 winners)
or a
Rouse’s King Cake!
💕 Below is a third-party ad. Click it if you like it, ignore it if you don't! 💕
(I receive a tiny commission if you click on an ad.)
No comments :
Post a Comment
PLEASE NOTE: I do not moderate comments, but some go to Spam anyway. Rest assured, I check regularly and will publish non-Spam comments shortly!