National Novel Writing Month has arrived, and with it my first excerpt for Forgotten, Book One of the Blood Oath series! It’s the paranormal erotic thriller I’m working on and hope to publish next after the Loose Ends series. So I went all out, got my friend, K, to make a mock cover, did a vision board on Pinterest (which I will share in a bit once I feel it’s pretty enough, lol) and now I get to share a piece with you! For those participating feel free to be my buddy and slog through the writing mud with me this month: NaNoWriMo Profile (KaiaB)
Everyday I will check in and give you an update and hopefully a little piece of my best writing. I do hope I make the 50k mark, but more than that, I hope I can make this story great. Consider this my super rough draft, subject to change in plot, but ultimately true to the story I’m trying to tell. And yes, it will be darker than my previous works, which is why I’m excited about the shift in genre. I’m going to exercise another type of muscle with this series. Hope you enjoy!
Seven months after disappearing without a trace, Evelyn Pierce has returned battered, bruised, and unable to remember a single thing about what happened to her. Evie is terrified of the truth. She senses with an intuitive power she’s kept hidden all her life that a sinister world beyond our own exists. Evie’s memories start to return and so does the truth. She isn’t supposed to be alive and only one person can help her stay that way. Only one person believes she isn’t crazy.
Detective Joshua Stark was the lead investigator on Evelyn’s case. This isn’t his first brush with the strange darkness that seems to have enveloped Evie. He comes from a long line of intuitive souls, and it is this commonality that binds him to her. He’s sworn to help her, to protect her, and when a string of murders reminiscent of Evie’s case come to his attention, he knows his ability to keep his word will be put to the test.
There is no running now, no hiding. The memories Evie has suppressed and the truth she cannot face can no longer stay forgotten. Her life depends on it…
Nights like this are quiet in a suburban town. Teenagers have now migrated away from street corners that serve as bus stops in the light of day, choosing to smoke and loiter in store parking lots instead. Lone cars travel like tumbleweeds down quiet streets while families lie sleeping behind darkened windows, porch lights glowing to ward away evil.
No one notices the silent shuffle of sneaker-clad feet. No one hears the ragged breaths billowing like smoke from a young girl’s mouth, or see her shiver as she inches like a wounded dog towards a cream colored house in the middle of the street. She stumbles and trips as she trudges up the dead grass of the front yard. It crinkles like paper under her bloodstained fingers, under her steps as she pulls herself to her feet, and then the sound turns to the scrape of driveway gravel. She disappears into the shadow of an archway, seeing only darkness.
Her hand reaches out in front of her as if it belongs to someone else and quietly raps on the screen door. It’s enough. The sound of a barking dog grows louder as it hurtles towards her, only the door separating them.
The girl shivers, a great sense of fear and despair sinking to the floor of her stomach. Her whole body convulses but she is oblivious to the cold as the sound of halting footsteps and angry whispers draw nearer.
You don’t belong here.
A light comes on, just a hint of a golden glow to illuminate the porch. She looks away from the artificial embers, her face obscured in what little shadow is left, the only place she feels safe now. The door opens slowly…
The woman opening the door is crying uncontrollably, even before her robed figure steps out onto the porch. Still her mind can’t believe it. Her mind takes in the ghost in front of her. It’s been nearly a seven months since her daughter disappeared. The chances of her being alive were despairingly small and it isn’t unlike her to see her little girl in the faces of strangers or in the shadows at night. But do ghosts shiver in the cold November wind? Her hair is tangled and matted; her malnourished frame swims in an over-sized leather jacket. A man’s jacket. And beneath that on her grey shirt are inky dark stains that can only be dried blood. The ghost The girl. They both look up slowly and merge before her eyes. Eyes that are a lost and frightened mirror of her own ripple with unshed tears.
“Mommy,” she says and the voice sounds a bell, breaking the haziness that holds Bonnie Pierce captive. She hears confusion laced with pain, but also life.
Bonnie is herself again, her home and her daughter is alive. She hears the dog behind her whimpering, her husband and son have joined her. In an instant the slow motion crawl of time speeds up to a break neck pace of sensations and realization. They are crying, screaming and shuffling out onto the porch as they take Evelyn Pierce into their arms.
All of Evelyn’s strength has been reserved for this moment, for the distant chance that her family would be able to hold her again, and now that they are she has given in to weakness. She sinks into their embrace, sobbing into the cold night air and then into Bonnie’s shoulder, grime and blood covered fingernails digging into her skin beneath the robe, proving that each of them is real, that she’s alive. This moment is not a beautiful nightmare. It’s real and the only thing she can hold onto. Everything else is gone, including the last seven months.
Evelyn Pierce disappeared April 13th, at approximately 1:12 am in the woods just outside of her hometown of Guthridge, Maine. There was a party, there was her boyfriend Manny Vasquez. There was a fight before she stormed off into the night, then this moment of reunion. And somewhere in between is fear and darkness. That is all she remembers between the moment she disappeared and now. Fear. Desperation. Darkness.
The rest has been forgotten.