Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
She escaped the monster realm.
Fate dragged her back—twenty years earlier.
Waking up in the past wasn’t on Moriah Shaker’s bingo card, but after surviving a brutal world of cannibals, rabdogs and lethal poppy fields, it happens anyway. Now, Moriah has one chance to save her mother, undoing the death that started it all.
First, she must return to Hakeldama, where survival is never guaranteed and destiny always demands sacrifice. At her side is Jasher, the ruthless, axe-wielding executioner who melts only for her. Until he’s trapped in a monstrous form, becoming a weapon for her destruction. To him, she’s an enemy. To her, he’s everything.
Armed with only a cryptic journal that whispers of a lost gemstone, Moriah is forced to bargain with a tricky water maiden who is equal parts redemption and ruin. Worse, she’s transforming into something she no longer The Oracle Great and Terrible.
As secrets unravel and a forbidden attraction rekindles, Moriah must decide what she’s willing to sacrifice to unravel the past she’s desperate to save…or the man she isn’t supposed to love
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
THE UNDOING
“Are you all right?” a voice called from the distance. My mother’s, filled with concern. “Do you need help?”
My heart slammed into my throat. She stood thirty feet away, visibly pregnant—with me—and I wondered if running away was cowardice or the bravest thing I’d ever done. Either way, I couldn’t stay here.
I clutched my companion’s hand and dragged him through sunshine, across a bustling parking lot spider-webbed with cracks and weeds. The more distance from Mom, the better. No telling what damage I was doing to the space-time continuum thingie.
A sedan screeched to a halt, barely avoiding us.
“Sorry!” I called, picking up speed, never losing my hold on Jasher.
The driver stuck his hand out the window and flipped us off.
Jasher kept glancing back, eyes wide. “A metal wagon,” he said, accent thicker than usual. “No horses.”
“That’s a car. Maybe we can take one for a spin.” Without him, I’d be dead. A joyride didn’t compare, but it was a good start. “Now, let’s go faster on foot,” I instructed.
“A spin. Yes. I would like that. But what does this mean?” He extended his free arm in my direction, his middle finger raised.
I groaned. “It’s how people here say I’m having a terrible day and now I want you to have one too.”
He didn’t protest as I shoved us both between two red brick buildings and flattened myself against the wall, catching my breath. Thick shadows filled the space, seeming to stare at me.
I frowned. Lack of sleep and too much adrenaline, probably.
“Did she follow us?” I peeked around the corner. Beyond the alley’s mouth, storefronts advertised electronics, discount tires, and a breakfast special. The parking lot shimmered in August heat. Mom stood inside the chapel entrance, rubbing her temples, looking toward where we’d been.
My throat closed. She was so young. Younger than I’d remembered, or maybe I’d just never had the luxury of noticing. Her hair was bound in rollers, the way she used to curl it every Sunday. She pressed one hand to her belly—to me—and disappeared inside. The door shut behind her.
The last time I’d seen her alive, I was eight years old. I’d spent twenty years trying to remember everything about her, and now I’d just let her go.
“You avoid your mother?” Jasher asked, confused. He leaned against the wall across from me, arms folded. Dried blood dotted his white tunic and ripped black leathers. Two axes crossed behind his shoulders. Weapons that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
But how…why…?
“Princess,” he intoned, reminding me of his question. “Moriah.”
The mini-spiral ground to a halt. Strange things happened in Hakeldama, his home. Of course strange things happened anywhere he traveled. Even another world.
I launched into a fast back-and-forth pace. Cicadas shrieked from distant trees, and country music leaked from an auto shop bay. “I don’t want to avoid her, but it’s for the best. None of this makes sense. We’re in the wrong time, without ID, money, or transportation. My dead mother is alive and pregnant with me. Suddenly, you’re armed.” Disaster incoming, guaranteed.
Not the least bit surprised by the appearance of his weapons, he shrugged. “An executioner is never without his tools.”
“Former executioner. There’ll be no beheadings here. None. I cannot stress that enough.” A manic laugh escaped. “How did this happen? Why did we land in the past?”
Time travel doesn’t exist. The past was supposed to be untouchable. Then the storms found me. Tornadoes that tore through worlds. One carried me to a fantastical horrorland I never wanted to see again. The other dropped me back home in Kansas twenty years too early. Why? How?
“How are you so composed?” I demanded. “You’re in a whole new world, Jasher.” As if he hadn’t realized that.
He hauled me against his chest and clasped my cheeks. “I’ve been in worse predicaments, Moriah. Far worse.”
For balance, I flattened my palms over his distractingly well-defined pecs. His heartbeat was slow, certain, and reassuring. “I hate this,” I murmured.
“At least you aren’t alone.” Those eerie shadows veiled the upper half of his face, giving him a menacing edge anyone but me should fear. His grip tightened a fraction. “Now breathe with me.”
I obeyed and received an instant reward. The scent of sandalwood and orchids brought a calming wind strong enough to push out tension. “You’re very good at soothing others,” I said and nuzzled closer.
He chuckled. “Taming wild beasties is one of my many talents.”
I chuckled too. “Well, don’t go getting a big head about it. I’m more like a house cat than a beastie.” A monstrous boar-like creature spiced with rage and malice.
Jasher pressed a soft kiss to my brow. “My brother, Anders, is prone to panic. When we force him to focus elsewhere, he calms.”
I deflated a bit. His brothers, whom he loved, needed our help. Not just Anders but Reese and hundreds of others, all clones of one man, a ruthless tyrant who made tools out of men. Or they would need our help. In twenty years. So confusing!