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Indie Lights Book Parade – Cheri Roman, author
Fulfilling one’s destiny requires sacrifice…
Escaping a global catastrophe, angel-human hybrid, Shahara, lands safely in Babylon with her beloved Volot, an angel with a sacred mission. But the victory is a hollow one, for the world she knew has been obliterated. Battered by the loss of her family and the denial of her most cherished dreams, Shahara’s new life begins to disintegrate as she is lured by promises of power and fulfillment into the violent, blood-soaked ambitions of a ruthless enemy. With her marriage shattered and countless lives hanging in the balance, Shahara must make a devastating choice. Can she survive her decision, or will victory require the ultimate sacrifice? By turns romantic, suspenseful and terrifying, this epic fantasy treads the knife edge of human frailty and superhuman courage.
Escaping a global catastrophe, angel-human hybrid, Shahara, lands safely in Babylon with her beloved Volot, an angel with a sacred mission. But the victory is a hollow one, for the world she knew has been obliterated. Battered by the loss of her family and the denial of her most cherished dreams, Shahara’s new life begins to disintegrate as she is lured by promises of power and fulfillment into the violent, blood-soaked ambitions of a ruthless enemy. With her marriage shattered and countless lives hanging in the balance, Shahara must make a devastating choice. Can she survive her decision, or will victory require the ultimate sacrifice? By turns romantic, suspenseful and terrifying, this epic fantasy treads the knife edge of human frailty and superhuman courage.
Excerpt:
Volot leaned over and kissed her,
his lips a promise against hers. He was still watching her as he backed into
the front garden and leapt, his wings springing free of the pattern on his
back, lifting him into the sky.
Shahara followed him out the door
and watched his progress, up through wide-spreading tree branches, to open air.
In the distance a thin, gray tracing smudged the horizon like smoke. Shahara
shivered in the cold breeze that kicked along the foundation of the house.
Hugging her shawl close about her, she went inside to begin the morning’s work.
Preparations needed to be made, Danae said, if they were to have any chance of
surviving the thing she called a flood. Shahara shook her head as she worked.
Sabaoth may have given Danae the gift of prophecy, but her prediction made no
sense. Water was to cover the entire Earth? For a year? Impossible. Still, it
was better to be busy.
Immersing herself in the work helped
to push the pain of loss once more into the distance. It also served to
diminish her awareness of her surroundings. The morning was half gone before
she realized how dark it had become. Wrapping a strap across the basket she had
just filled, Shahara stood and stretched her tired back. Outside, the wind
moaned like a living thing and she crossed to the doorway, looking out with
dull eyes. The smudge she had noticed earlier had grown into a skein of dark,
heavy gauze, covering the sky from horizon to horizon. She stared at it. The
wind died and the world stopped in silence. For an instant her vision sharpened
and she noted every leaf, every flower and stone within her sight, as if it had
been magically painted across her mind’s eye by an iridescent brush; a scene
she would be able to recall with instant, awful clarity for the rest of her
life. Then, with an ear-splitting roar, the earth rocked beneath her. An
ancient oak swayed like a sapling and crevasses ripped across the ground as
water poured from the sky in torrents.
“Volot,” Shahara screamed, calling
to him with voice and soul. In a blurred rush, Volot scooped her up and vaulted
into the sky as the oak fell, crushing their house beneath its colossal
branches.
Shahara clung to him as he fought to
stay airborne against the furious wind. For an instant, the couple looked over
the sudden ruin of their home.
“It’s too soon! We’re not ready.”
Shahara shouted her protest over the storm.
Volot shook his head. “We were not
promised time. We only hoped.”
“What about the others?”
Their eyes met and she saw the
torment in his glance. “We will have to find them after. They will escape the
same way we will. Shahara…” he hesitated and lightning streaked across the sky
above him, thunder cracking in the same instant. “We have to go into the
Shift.”
She stared at him with wide,
terrified eyes. “No. We’ll die there.”
“We’ll die here. There is no
choice.”
He didn’t wait for a reply but
thrust hard with his wings. In a shower of sparks, the pair was gone, leaving
chaos to reign behind.
Stepping into the dark in between,
the pair shivered in the sudden, intense cold. The rain-wet fabric of Shahara’s
dress stiffened and ice crystals formed in her hair. In the distance, she could
see pin-pricks of silver light and she shuddered.
“We have a few moments before they
get here,” Volot said.
“Before what get here?”
“The lights.” He glanced over his
shoulder but she could see no difference yet.
“And then what?” she asked, her
teeth tapping together in the jaw tightening cold.
“I don’t —” Volot’s reply was cut
off by a brilliant spray of gold sparks as another angel entered the Shift.
“Well met, Volot. I see you have
brought your wife along.” The voice echoed hollow and distant in the cold, but
the speaker glowed in sharp relief against the dark. Shahara glanced from Volot
to the newcomer. He could only be another angel. His topaz eyes gleamed clear
and intelligent beneath black brows. His ebony skin shown reddish bronze in the
dim light and it took a moment, but she could see from her husband’s expression
that Volot recognized him.
“General Bellator.” Volot snapped to
attention and pounded a fist to his heart in salute. He glanced at Shahara.
“The situation on Earth is dangerous at the moment. I had to —”
Bellator waved his comments aside.
“No need to explain. It is well. You will be taking up a new mission now.” The
general glanced over Volot’s shoulder and frowned. “We haven’t much time, so
listen carefully. You will travel through the light into a city called
Babylon.”
Find C. L. Roman here:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cheri_roman
Web site: www.brassragpress.com
Amazon author page: http://tinyurl.com/otz5ejp
Cheri Roman is a writer, editor, teacher, wife, mother, grandmother and friend, in whatever order works best in the moment. Most days you can find her on her blog, The Brass Rag, or working on the next novel in her fantasy series, Rephaim. Cheri lives with her husband and Jack, the super Chihuahua.
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