Description:
Sometimes death is only the
beginning...
beginning...
Selene Vanream died—for two
minutes. After being revived, she spends over a month in a coma before she
awakes, free from the Rot and the reanimation power that caused her so much
trouble. No one can explain how Selene survived killing Renton while he
possessed her reanimation power, and her reunion with Micah is marred by the
choices they each made to save her and stop Renton
minutes. After being revived, she spends over a month in a coma before she
awakes, free from the Rot and the reanimation power that caused her so much
trouble. No one can explain how Selene survived killing Renton while he
possessed her reanimation power, and her reunion with Micah is marred by the
choices they each made to save her and stop Renton
But even though she’s Rot
free, she isn’t problem free. First, she no longer has a job at Affairs of the
Dead. And Ethan is missing and she can’t track him down. Not only that, ghosts
that were sent to the Afterlife with unfinished business have somehow crossed
back and are trying to settle the score in violent ways. If that wasn’t enough,
Selene discovers that dying briefly has more consequences than she realized,
because when she was revived, not all of her came back. Now she’s straddling
both the living world and the dead, and she will find out what it means to come
back to life but leave part of her soul behind.
free, she isn’t problem free. First, she no longer has a job at Affairs of the
Dead. And Ethan is missing and she can’t track him down. Not only that, ghosts
that were sent to the Afterlife with unfinished business have somehow crossed
back and are trying to settle the score in violent ways. If that wasn’t enough,
Selene discovers that dying briefly has more consequences than she realized,
because when she was revived, not all of her came back. Now she’s straddling
both the living world and the dead, and she will find out what it means to come
back to life but leave part of her soul behind.
Excerpt:
The Afterlife sucked.
Granted, I had just gotten here, but I would have expected
some sort of fanfare to be waiting to greet me. There should be angels throwing
confetti, and ghosts cheering as they welcomed me into eternity after my long,
hard life. I thought there’d be some clouds, lots of light, maybe a rainbow or
two arching above my head. But no, there was none of that. So far the Afterlife
was gray and dull.
some sort of fanfare to be waiting to greet me. There should be angels throwing
confetti, and ghosts cheering as they welcomed me into eternity after my long,
hard life. I thought there’d be some clouds, lots of light, maybe a rainbow or
two arching above my head. But no, there was none of that. So far the Afterlife
was gray and dull.
How disappointing.
And I mean it was literally gray. I did a slow turn so I
could take in every direction. All I could see was gray beneath my feet, gray
above my head, and gray on every horizon. I put my hands on my hips and blew my
unruly ghost hair out of my face. This was what I got after sacrificing myself
to save humanity from a madman who wanted to slaughter people so he could feed
their ghosts to his creepily resurrected family? Seriously?
could take in every direction. All I could see was gray beneath my feet, gray
above my head, and gray on every horizon. I put my hands on my hips and blew my
unruly ghost hair out of my face. This was what I got after sacrificing myself
to save humanity from a madman who wanted to slaughter people so he could feed
their ghosts to his creepily resurrected family? Seriously?
I wasn’t sure exactly how the Afterlife worked, despite
being a necromancer. Hard to know what death was like until you were dead. But
this couldn’t be all there was. I was at a loss here.
being a necromancer. Hard to know what death was like until you were dead. But
this couldn’t be all there was. I was at a loss here.
Then I thought about Micah and intense sadness washed over
me. I don’t know how much time had passed; was it only minutes? Was Micah
holding my dead body in his arms on the Brooklyn Bridge? Had days passed?
Weeks? Was my funeral already over? My incorporeal heart ached. I missed Micah.
I wished the whole mess with Renton didn’t have to culminate with my death.
me. I don’t know how much time had passed; was it only minutes? Was Micah
holding my dead body in his arms on the Brooklyn Bridge? Had days passed?
Weeks? Was my funeral already over? My incorporeal heart ached. I missed Micah.
I wished the whole mess with Renton didn’t have to culminate with my death.
I threw my hands up. Great, now I had eternity to miss Micah
and lament that I had to die because of a psycho. Why couldn’t death erase all
the bad stuff?
and lament that I had to die because of a psycho. Why couldn’t death erase all
the bad stuff?
All right, time to put a positive spin on this. I couldn’t
start my Afterlife in a funk. Maybe this was just the starting point and I had
to get to where the good stuff was. They made it this dismal at the beginning
to show you that it couldn’t get any worse. That way you’d really appreciate
your slice of paradise, or maybe the Afterlife was more like communal, eternal
fun. I’d take anything over this. I started walking and hoped my theory would
be correct.
start my Afterlife in a funk. Maybe this was just the starting point and I had
to get to where the good stuff was. They made it this dismal at the beginning
to show you that it couldn’t get any worse. That way you’d really appreciate
your slice of paradise, or maybe the Afterlife was more like communal, eternal
fun. I’d take anything over this. I started walking and hoped my theory would
be correct.
After walking for a while, the silence was broken by a
stomping sound in the distance. A low vibration thrummed through the ground.
Was this it? Hordes of angels were coming to greet me and they were running because
they were late? But the closer the sound got, the more it reminded me of horses’
hooves. When I turned in the direction of the galloping, I saw glowing, red
eyes coming at me.
stomping sound in the distance. A low vibration thrummed through the ground.
Was this it? Hordes of angels were coming to greet me and they were running because
they were late? But the closer the sound got, the more it reminded me of horses’
hooves. When I turned in the direction of the galloping, I saw glowing, red
eyes coming at me.
If I had a beating heart, it would have seized up when I saw
what looked like a hulking, jet-black horse. The only color was those red fire
pits it had for eyes. Its body, which I could tell was equine, was surrounded
by roiling waves of darkness. It was as though shadows had wrapped around it
and were in constant motion. It looked twice as large as any horse I had ever
seen, and even though I was a ghost, I didn’t want to get trampled. I moved out
of the way, but the ghost didn’t seem as though it saw me. When it had run past
me a few feet it stopped, reared up and neighed, which was a beastly and
horrifying sound, then dropped down and continued running. I was left staring
after it with my mouth hanging open.
what looked like a hulking, jet-black horse. The only color was those red fire
pits it had for eyes. Its body, which I could tell was equine, was surrounded
by roiling waves of darkness. It was as though shadows had wrapped around it
and were in constant motion. It looked twice as large as any horse I had ever
seen, and even though I was a ghost, I didn’t want to get trampled. I moved out
of the way, but the ghost didn’t seem as though it saw me. When it had run past
me a few feet it stopped, reared up and neighed, which was a beastly and
horrifying sound, then dropped down and continued running. I was left staring
after it with my mouth hanging open.
Bio:
A.J. Locke
is originally from Trinidad and Tobago but has resided in New York City for
over fifteen years. She knew early on that she wanted to be a writer, penned
her first novel at fourteen, and hasn’t stopped since. Creating is her passion,
and other than writing she enjoys keeping up with her active toddler and finding
time for her other creative whims such as drawing, painting, and graphic
design.
is originally from Trinidad and Tobago but has resided in New York City for
over fifteen years. She knew early on that she wanted to be a writer, penned
her first novel at fourteen, and hasn’t stopped since. Creating is her passion,
and other than writing she enjoys keeping up with her active toddler and finding
time for her other creative whims such as drawing, painting, and graphic
design.
Author Links:
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