Lisa's World of Books

Excerpt

His mother wailed again. Nighttime darkness continued to descend, and the wind stayed its brutal course at Father’s funeral. Mother Juana hadn’t noticed the spirit of a man cloaked in light beside Gabriél. He wasn’t Gabriél’s father. He was more than a man; he was everything that Father was and more. Through the corner of his eyes, Gabriél saw the white-bearded old man. In many ways, in many forms, I will come. The words were close as heartbeats and breath. He knew if he turned and looked directly at him, the man would disappear. The light was intense, like rays of the sun. The old man had something to say.

Suddenly, unclean sounds went into Gabriél’s ears and chest—crackling and squealing voices rising from under the earth and into his body, trying to block out the lingering presence of the old man and his words. Like a god, the white-bearded man lifted his right hand, fingers spread. The noise went up from the ground into his palm, a mighty hand with powerful magic.

Gabriél’s mind became silent as a windless autumn night, magic making him still inside, just like he was when in his bedroom reading alone. The old man was strong and made what was bad cease. Even as the underworld racket stopped, the graveyard winds kept up their awful screams.

The quiet of the man and the moment wrapped strong and warm arms around Gabriél. Invisibility stood guard around the old man. Mother could not see him. No one could see him. He was there only for Gabriél. He bent down beside Gabriél and touched his shoulder. A crystal clear calm made the shrieking wind and the crying women and the priest’s strange prayers seem far, far away.

Mother’s red hair blew in the wind like it was on fire. It didn’t scare Gabriél because of the old man, his warm and solid hands steady on Gabriél’s shoulders. His kind eyes said he was ten thousand times ten-thousand-years old. His mother’s red hair and shrieking prayers no longer scared him.

Then the old man spoke, and through Gabriél’s mind sent a message, LISTEN… WHEN THE DAY GOES AWAY AND THE NIGHT COMES, REMEMBER I AM HERE. He touched Gabriél’s heart. LISTEN.

Gabriél’s mother abruptly glanced down at him. He looked into her eyes and knew she hadn’t heard the old man, but she had a squint in her eyes. Her eyes glowed red, and the old man’s hands did not move from Gabriél’s shoulders.

Big branches from the cottonwoods cast long moon shadows over the grave. Now they looked like skinny people scratching at each other, cloaking the old man. The wind picked up its screeching.

Gabriél’s heart pounded like stampeding horses.

Mother squeezed his hand. His fingers tangled together, tips burning with pain. Then she looked away and wailed more loudly than ever.

The old man continued, TELL NO ONE ABOUT ME. I WILL HELP YOU AS A BOY. I WILL HELP YOU AS A MAN. LISTEN. The old man motioned again to Gabriél’s heart and then touched between Gabriél’s eyes, the brow point.

The old man stopped and looked up.

Gabriél caught his mother’s gaze.

She’d seen the old man, pointed at him, and screeched like the evil winds.

Blistering dust and grit blinded Gabriél. He pulled his hand away from his mother and rubbed his eyes and tried to clear them, but when he looked again, squinting, he saw that the light of the old man had vanished.

His mother was wrapped in a cloud of dust. Out of the cloud came a coyote, foam curling from its mouth. It howled, and an instant later legions of dust devils took over the landscape and swallowed it in clouds of dust, trash, and tumbleweeds.

Mother reappeared beside him and picked him up. She screeched with a million hateful voices. His heart beat rapidly, fluttered like a flock of sparrows flying away. Catching his breath was hard.

“The night plays tricks,” his mother seethed, her breath hot and rank.

The winds suddenly ceased. Brown and gray clouds gave way to blackness that closed in and covered the full moon. Spirits of children rose out of their graves. They pointed at Gabriél and his mother. Their hands and fingers grew and reached to grab him, take him away under the earth.

Mother swept her black shawl over Gabriél. She whispered, “I will protect you, mijo.”

They escaped into the jet-black night.

About the Author:

Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D., is a psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico, crafting visionary thrillers energized with trickster mischief and natural magic.

https://www.pauldeblassieiii.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pdeblassieiii

https://twitter.com/pdeblassieiii

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56373593-goddess-of-everything

Excerpt:

Before Karlee could get the next book on the shelf, a loud thunk made her jump. Spinning around to face the disturbance, she took a slow step forward. “Hello?” At first only silence answered her and then a distant click followed by another and then the sound echoed through the disorganized mess. She took another step, but it wasn’t until the lights illuminated the hallway clicked off that she realized what the sound was.

Backing away from the approaching darkness, Karlee turned to run. The clicking of the lights going out behind her grew louder. On the other side of the basement was the door that led outside and onto the street. She ran faster as her heart started to race. As the clicking grew louder and closer, she heard heavy feet hurrying along with it.

The lights directly above Karlee started to shatter. Sparks cascaded down on her and bounced across the floor. Making a quick turn, she could see the door just a few yards away, but just as she was closing the distance, she felt something tug at her hair. Letting out a shriek, she dashed towards the steps that led away from her tormentor. As one foot touched down on the stair, the other was yanked out from under her. She crashed into the wooden steps and felt a cold solid mass wrap itself around her ankle. It began to slither up her leg and she kicked out, desperately trying to clamber away.

There was nothing but darkness behind Karlee. Even the thing that held onto her and was scratching at her skin seemed to be made of shadows. She screamed as she felt the first hard tug. Reaching up, she grabbed the edge of the top step and held on. Another hard tug jerked her, nearly ripping her away from the relative safety of the stairs. Just when she thought her leg would be torn off, the door above her burst open and she was blinded by a brilliant flash of light shooting through the darkness.

“Be gone, shadow spawn!” a deep voice boomed, and Karlee felt the thick shadows jerk franticly away. Scrambling up the steps, she saw the shining man who had saved her and ran straight into his arms. A strong arm wrapped around her and she found herself tucked against the man’s side.

From beside the stranger, Karlee could see the source of the brilliant light. It radiated from a small stone he held in the palm of his hand. Beyond him, she could also see the illuminated darkness left in the library basement. The light allowed her to see the collection of books and the wreathing shadows that had chased her. Misshapen human shadows were wriggling in the light as if it was burning them. Staring at it, she felt fear rake over her, violently sending her heart into her throat and blocking the scream she couldn’t seem to conjure.

The man slammed the door, hiding the horrid sight from Karlee and in one smooth motion, took her hand and turned towards the road. “I have to get you out of here,” he said as he started to pull her away from the library and down the sidewalk.

J. R. White has been telling stories for as long as she can remember. After her marriage in 2008 she found the freedom to dive headfirst into her personal world of fiction. Currently she lives in the Upstate of South Carolina with her family, where she fills her daughter’s head with fairy tales.

https://jrwhite-author.com/

https://twitter.com/jrwhite84

https://amzn.to/386V8mE

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7135923.J_R_White

Amazon

Excerpt

After drying herself off, Jessica watched some TV in her room. As she flicked through the channels, she heard footsteps in the hallway.

“Is that you, mom?” There was no response. “Mom?” she called out again, but there was no answer.

Sighing, she got up and opened her bedroom door. Looking left and right, there was nobody around. “Mom?” Bertha didn’t respond. “Guess I must be hearing things.”

Laying back down on the bed, she picked up the remote.

Jessica rubbed her arms, now feeling cold. She felt a sudden chill in the room. She glanced at the window. It was closed and locked.

“Why is it so cold?”

As she stood up to get a warmer sweater, Jessica stopped. The girl swallowed hard and her heart thundered as her chair beside the door moved two inches…by itself.

“O…kay. That’s weird.” Approaching the chair cautiously, she pushed it back.

Opening the wardrobe door, she rummaged through all her sweaters. Jessica paused, hearing the wooden chair creak. Again her heart beat faster. Slowly, she half-closed the wardrobe door to take a look, even though every fiber in her being said not to. Shutting her eyes, the girl rattled off a quick prayer.

Turning around to face the chair, Jessica opened her eyes. She screamed as it now leaned forward, its two back legs high in the air. Tears threatened to drown her eyes as she jumped on the bed. Something dragged the chair across the room, stopping at the foot of her bed. It now fell back, resting on its four legs again.

Seizing her chance, Jessica bolted for the door. Just as she was about to make her exit, an invisible force slammed it shut. Jessica pulled at the handle, trying hard to open it.

“Come on, come on,” she said with a shaky breath, tears continuing to stream down her face. “Open, damn it!” When that didn’t work, Jessica banged on the door in desperation. “Mom, mom. Help!”

Her banging came to an abrupt halt when someone grabbed her ponytail, yanking it hard, pulling her to the ground. She cried out in pain as her back hit the ground hard. Ice cold fingers pulled up her sweater and t-shirt. Now they stroked and caressed her stomach.

“No, please, no!” The malevolent force ignored her pleas, continuing to crawl down towards her underwear.

Jessica wriggled and flailed her arms about to break free. Once more, she felt the acrid stench of a hot breath against her left ear.

“Get away from me, you sick bastard!”

She almost leaped off the floor when she heard his menacing Southern drawl, “You want me to leave you alone? Then forget about the well.” His ice-cold fingers no longer tugged at the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

The tight grip on her ponytail was gone. She waited a few seconds to see if Caleb had gone too. When the eerie icy atmosphere had lifted, she scrambled to her feet and ran to the bathroom. 

Since 2004, Aidan Lucid’s work has been published in national and international magazines, as well as various poetry anthologies. For a period of nine months in 2007, he was a film reviewer for the award-winning Irish newspaper, The Kerryman. From 2009 to 2017, Aidan was an assistant editor for Bewildering Stories e-zine. Lucid began critiquing novels and short stories in 2018 and continues to do so. In October 2019, his debut YA fantasy novel, The Lost Son, was released.  

www.aidanlucidauthor.com

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