Author: P.C. Shriver
Publisher: Gean Penny Books
Release Date: 15th Febraury 2012
Thrown together by the cruelties of a modern day world in which genuine compassion is rare, evil abounds, and goodness is often tainted by the fight to survive, two unusually gifted teenagers discover they are linked by a fairytale told them repeatedly throughout their youth by their late mothers.Excerpt
Destiny awaits them, but first they must locate the others, as the fairytale foretells, to defeat the evil monster who waits and change the lonely world in which they live. Only then will they find peace... and family.
The cold, dim room saddened the visitor upon entry. Immediately, with a slap, he flipped the light switch up, drew the shades back, and placed the cheerful pot of daisies in the center of the shelf. In that location, the daisies sat in view of the shallowly breathing patient, should she awaken. He knew better, though.
He seated himself next to the hospital bed, in the uncomfortable wooden chair, the seat cushion so well used little padding remained, lumps forming beneath the green plastic coating. Reaching out, he took a slender, limp, dark hand in his own, and then gently began stroking the forehead and hair of the sleeping beauty before him with his free hand. Tears pooled in his dark eyes while guilt flooded his heart.
"Momma, I'm here. I know you already know that, and I realize I haven't been here in a while. I haven't exactly been doin' things that would make you proud the past few months, either, and I'm sorry.
“I hope you don't know too much about that, but I've just been so angry. Just be glad I ain't in jail," he paused, waited, hoped that her eyes would flutter and he would see that disappointing look she would always give him when he transgressed. Her silence pushed him onward in the one-sided discussion. "You'll never guess what happened to me this morning," excitement shook his voice, muffled only slightly by a guilty tone, and flowed on hopefully, making him sound almost chipper. "I was doin' somethin' I shouldn'ta been doin', one of them things you wouldn't be proud of? And this girl walked up, ya' know?" he paused again, this time not for a response from the comatose woman before him, but out of fear that what he was about to tell her would be overheard, as well as a little disbelief over what had happened.
Anyone listening outside might think him crazy when they heard the description of what he saw that morning, what he wanted his mother to know. After raising his eyes to the open door and the shuttered window looking out on an empty hall, he leaned forward, close to her left ear, her light, slow breath slightly warming his cool forehead, "I saw Bree this morning, Momma. Really! I saw her, and she told me I had to come see you. She made it sound really important, Momma... you know... like you might wake up today or somethin'. She knew I hadn't been here in a while, too. Her smile, Momma, man I surely miss her smile. Remember how pretty she smiled, Momma? Remember the sparkle in her eyes? I saw her today, Momma, and it made me so happy, but it made me feel guilty, too." He stopped, stood for a second, leaned forward again, and gripped the slender, brown hand firmer, a sense of urgency filling his heart.
"Wake up, Momma. You can wake up now; you can come back to me; it's safe, really. I really need you, especially now. At least give me a sign you can hear me, Momma, please?" a tear rolled down his soft, plum cheek, but her eyes were dry, motionless and tightly closed. When no sign came, he scooted back in the chair, folded his hands together, set his elbows on the edge of the bed and bowed his head in silent prayer, something he hadn't done in months, since he had given up on her… on life.