Tag: indie author

Writing

Angelic Findings Summary

Alexandra Diane

For over the last decade, the Angelic Findings manuscript has undergone multiple revisions. At the core, the story has stayed the same. A deceitful angel with a sly smile tricks our female lead into believing she’s safe with him, however she’s anything but. It feels like it’s been a lifetime developing the characters into something more than weak and whiny characters needing to be saved. For the first time I am feeling content with the story and because of that I have been able to write a summary, knowing these key points will not change. So without further ado, the Angelic Findings summary!

Cassandra’s battle with anxiety and insomnia is amplified by a mysterious nighttime phantom and her cousin Molly’s chaotic lifestyle. Despite her own fears and family problems, Cassandra attends a gala where she meets a mysterious man named Anderson. After a tense conversation at the bar, Cassandra stumbles upon a burglar in a restricted room and manages to foil his escape. The Angelic Findings’ soldiers storm in without making any noise and apprehend the burglar. This encounter leaves Cassandra with a mix of emotions and questions about the mysterious events of the night. The founder, Anthony Glau, pursues her. As they engaged in conversation, Cassandra’s initial unease grows as she observed unusual traits in Anthony. 

Anthony discloses his role in orchestrating the incident at a gala. He reveals video evidence of her unique abilities, claiming to want to protect Cassandra. Cassandra reflects on her family struggles and confronts the man, who hands her a photo showing angel wings behind her at the gala. She is shocked and curious about her own abilities. Despite feeling invaded, she stays to learn more about herself.

Cassandra vanishes from her family for three days. Upon her unexpected return, she awakens after a week of being unconscious. Cassandra discovered she possesses unusual powers. Molly helps her deal with her new abilities and introduces her to a kitten. However, a terrifying creature that turns things to stone appears, shattering their peaceful time. With the help of Anthony, they narrowly escape the danger. 

Cassandra and her cousins, Molly and Jonathan, land in a dark room. Anthony reprimands Cassandra for using excessive energy. Tensions rise as Cassandra confronts Anthony for not preventing the danger. He reveals they were never alone when the kitten transforms into the angel Puriel. This is a surprise to everyone because Puriel is Molly’s late fiancé. 

Anthony explains the significance of Cassandra’s mixed blood and the looming threat from the dark angel Azrael. Puriel interrupts their private moment, covered with blood and a gaping wound.

Anthony’s village is under attack by demons led by Azrael, wreaking havoc and causing chaos. Jonathan, amidst the turmoil, is entrusted with caring for angelic infants. When he feels his sister is in trouble, Morse, a dark-haired angel, takes Jonathan to an armory. Morse tells him to be careful before rushing to help. But Jonathan is too late. Azrael captures Molly.

Cassandra nervously waits outside the infirmary as healers desperately try to save Jonathan, who has been impaled by a spear. Despite insisting on seeing him, Anthony stops her, warning that the healer’s power is too dangerous for her. Overwhelmed by the fear of losing Jonathan, she lashes out with her fiery abilities. After finally seeing Jonathan, she discovers that he has been given a chance at life, but at a great cost – he will transform into a spirit. As she struggles to make sense of the situation, Cassandra finds herself drawn to Anthony, despite her anger and confusion. Eventually, they find solace in a peaceful meadow. But Cassandra’s guilt and uncertainty about Anthony’s true intentions linger.

Cassandra and Anthony explore stunning landscapes, and Anthony teaches her about angelic education, baby angels, and power struggles among angels. When they reach a grand building, the attendants strip Cassandra, bathe her, and dress her in opulent attire. Led into a daunting hall of ArchAngels, she defies their commands and asserts her autonomy. The revelation that she is the daughter of a goddess and bound to Anthony as his soulmate leaves her fuming. Anthony is tasked with taking her away to navigate the impending conflict with Azrael.

Trapped in a gilded cage by Anthony, Cassandra is determined to take control of her destiny. Despite her fear and guilt, she resolves to save Molly from the monstrous angel Azrael. Discovering her latent powers, Cassandra experiments with fire and breaks free from the confinement. As she learns about her divine heritage and family history, she forms a bond with Puriel. Together, they embark on a daring escape from the palace, defying the oppressive forces that seek to control them. 

Struggling with physical pain and emotional turmoil, Cassandra receives an unexpected offer from Anthony, but she hesitates, feeling unready for the commitment. Amidst their playful interactions, the moment is shattered when Cassandra is dragged underwater. As she fights for her life, a sense of urgency and danger unfolds, leaving her in a perilous predicament.

Puriel, in falcon form, searches for Anthony and Cassandra. He finds them far from where he left them and notices a mysterious mark on Cassandra. Puriel and Anthony discuss her powers and determine she’s too powerful to bring along. Puriel shares news about Molly’s well-being and they plan to move Cassandra away from Azrael. Despite temptation, Puriel refrains from taking action. They agree to focus on getting Cassandra away from Azrael, dealing with her anger later.

Cassandra wakes up in a strange place next to Anthony. She questions him about his intention towards her. A disturbance at the door prompts Anthony to leave Cassandra alone, and she finds a small garden outside. There, she encounters a dragon-like creature that heals a mysterious mark on her leg. Anthony later reveals that she is being tracked and insists that she stays in the house. Despite his military duties, they eventually engage in intimate activities, leading Anthony to refer to her as his wife before she falls asleep.

Cassandra wakes up to the scent of cinnamon and finds Anthony at the foot of the bed, ready for breakfast. They banter and share pastries, which contain the angelic food ambrosia, suppressing hunger and providing sustenance. Anthony teases Cassandra, and they playfully struggle over the last bite of pastry. Later, she prepares herself for a formal dinner, and Anthony surprises her with a marriage proposal. Despite feeling betrayed, Cassandra faces a tense moment as she tries to resist her conflicting emotions for Anthony.

Cassandra awaits her fate as a wedding planner turned goddess, observing the lavish affair through a window. Her cousin Jonathan appears, bringing comfort and company. In the midst of chaos and uncertainty, she is trying to understand her feelings for her fiancé. Tensions rise, secrets unravel, and the crowd’s reaction is far from welcoming. Cassandra seeks familiar faces for support, only to find herself engulfed by the unsettling atmosphere of the grand event.

Cassandra is ushered towards a throne, feeding her doubts about Anthony’s true intentions. Molly, her cousin, appears and warns her about Anthony’s deception. As Cassandra ascends the throne. The throne proves to be alive and fuses with her, imbuing her with divine powers. After an intense ceremony, she is left weak and hungry, but surrounded by supporters. Amidst tension with her husband and a confrontation with her rival, she asserts her newfound authority with a defiant act.

Grappling with her new reality, Cassandra struggles to come to terms with her transformation and the responsibilities that come with it, Cassandra steps away briefly, she entrusts her friends with the task of observing the unfolding events, seeking potential treacherous guests amidst the celebrations.

Cassandra, seeking solitude, finds herself in a garden where she encounters Anderson. He reveals he was meant to be her guardian angel. Anderson cautions Cassandra about the risks of ambrosia and attempts to display its effects. This leads to a transformation in Cassandra, revealing her hidden abilities. This unexpected turn of events leaves Anderson in awe of Cassandra.

Cassandra finds herself in a confrontation with Anthony, questioning his secrecy and manipulation. She challenges his motives and expresses her frustration with his lies. Anthony reveals his need for her to rule as a Demi-god, but Cassandra resists, asserting her independence and refusing to be used. In a final showdown, Anthony attempts to control her, but Cassandra defiantly asserts her true self. The tense encounter concludes with Anthony ordering her confinement, suspecting a threat to the palace.

Cassandra, angered, is locked in a room by Anthony. She sets the room on fire before Gabriel appears. She questions the concept of soulmates and the motives behind the power struggle. Gabriel explains the potential consequences of binding her soul and the true nature of soulmates.  He explains a plot to control both worlds by obtaining Cassandra’s soul. He reassures her that she is not bound by love. Gabriel reveals the fallen state of angels and the limited intervention in the human world is revealed. She seeks to save her cousin Molly and embarks on a journey with the guidance of Gabriel. Along the way, Cassandra faces doubts and challenges, questioning the true nature of those around her. 

Lent

Day 3: Ravenmaster Plot work

Alexandra Diane
  • What is the incident that starts the journey? 

The Paranormal agencies use stone dolmens as portals to travel the world. As time has gone on mother nature and humans have destroyed or damaged the dolmens. The natural wear and tear on the dolmens has caused some malfunction and sends agents to the wrong location or to the Obsidian Realm. Agents from all over the world are being lost and trapped in the Obsidian Realm. Only those with Fae blood can return from the Obsidian Realm. The PDM decided that instead of losing more seasoned agents; they were going to send in green agents on what seems like a suicide mission. Once again, Agent Ansley seeks the help of Maggie and Liam. This time, they actually know they are being used by the agency. However, Caroline, Maggie’s sister, brokered a deal with Ansley. If they survive the mission, Ansley releases them and they can leave for America with Caroline. 

The Obsidian Realm is where The Morrgan was banished by Odin, the god of war and of the dead. In retaliation of being banished, The Morrgan’s have caused the Dolmens to be corrupted before in the past. Transporting the Picts and Vikings to the Obsidian Realm, feeding the Morrgan’s need for blood and battle. The vikings that have died in the Obsidian Realm cannot enter Valhalla. But since the portals have opened again, Badb has been released. She is relishing in the war that covers the earth. Odin wants his souls and Badb wants blood.

Badb delivers a prophecy that calls for the end of the world. 

Summer without blossoms,
Cattle will be without milk,

Women without modesty,
Men without valour.
Conquests without a king…

Woods without mast.
Sea without produce…

False judgements of old men.
False precedents of lawyers,

Every man
a betrayer.

Every son a reaver.
The son will go to the bed of his father,

The father
will go to the bed of his son.

Each his brother’s brother-in-law.
He will not seek any woman outside his house…

  • Magic: is it hidden? How does it affect humans? Who has it? Rules? Laws? How much do the MCs understand it? How much do the readers know?

The readers learn as Maggie and Liam discover more about the magical world. 

On earth, magical beings walk side by side with the humans. However, the humans are unaware of how much magic is in their world. The Paranormal Defence Agencies are spread throughout the world and, in contrast to other government agencies, collaborate to maintain and control the narrative. If you exhibit any sort of powers, you become an agent. You are allowed to have side gigs. However, the agency documents all magical beings and requires them to work in some capacity if they would like to maintain their freedom. There are some that live off the grid in isolated and secluded areas. IE BigFoot lore.  The only magical creatures not a part of any agency are the Fae, they are unable to be controlled and don’t trust the government.

Humans presidents, kings, queens, and even dictators have all collectively decided that the knowledge of such magical beings should never be revealed. Only top level scientists even know of their existence. 

The Obsidian Realm is where The Morrgan was banished by Odin, the god of war and of the dead, They are three sisters, Badb, Macha, and Nemain.

Macha – Goddess of land, fertility, kingship, war, and horses

Nemain – Goddess who personifies the frenzied havoc of war. 

Badb – Goddess of war. She takes the form of a raven or crow. Known as the battle crow. She causes confusion and fear among the soldiers to move the battle in favor of her side. She may appear prior to battle to foreshadow carnage to come or predict a notable death. Battle fields are called “The gardens of Badb.” She is known as rage, fury, or violence. 

Lent

The Season of Lent: 40 days of Prayer & Writing

Alexandra Diane

With bloganuary completed and lent right around the corner, I have taken a bit of a break from writing. During Bloganuary, I completed all but two topics and posts, and for lent, I will be engaging in 40 days of writing and 40 days without social media. In the past, my decision to give up social media has not conflicted with my life. It was a chance to detox from the endless scrolling, focus on my writing, and reconnect with what matters most. But this year things will be different. Last fall my husband joined the rec baseball board. Because of my work for our travel team, they put my husband in charge of the rec social media accounts. While he does a lot, I am the one who creates and posts most of the content. After Valentine’s day this year, which just so happens to fall on Ash Wednesday, he will take over the posts. I’m curious to see how things go.

My goal this season is to take those endless hours of mindless scrolling and polish off Angelic Findings. For more than a decade, this manuscript has haunted me. However, I am glad that I have spent that time working through all the learning curves. Angelic Findings is the story I started after college. My brain felt broken after five years of academic writing. Creativity was staunched as I wrote analytical essay after analytical essay. The first ten drafts of Angelic Findings were so dry I could have started a fire with them. I didn’t hate it, but I discovered something. Every time I reworked the story, Cassandra evolved. Which is normal and should happen, but she wasn’t just reflecting on the events happening in the world of Angelic Findings. She was a mirror of my emotions. One that I wasn’t aware of was pouring onto the pages. I discovered this about nine years ago when my first marriage fell apart. I was back from Brazil, not knowing if Florida would be my home again, when I read the manuscript as an audience member, not a writer. Witnessing Cassandra being manipulated by someone who claimed to care for her was unbearable. So I shelved the project. 

I abandoned that world, needing fresh eyes and a healed soul before I could revisit it. I dove deep into writing for myself. Short stories that soothed my soul before weren’t enough. I was searching for something. Something that would let me feel whole again. I think that is when I started to blog, needing to get my feelings out. But, I always felt journaling was ridiculous. I don’t know why pen to paper was an alien concept for me. I have bookshelves filled with journals. But those are for stories. Not my pain. Maybe I feared that seeing my thoughts in black and white like blood on a page was too much.

One night I was texting with a friend about my writing. I told him how things were different. Writing fantasy has become difficult. For such a long time, it served as my sole source of solace. But I don’t need that anymore. I am happy with my life. I didn’t need the worlds I used to create to escape anymore. Yes, I still get depressed, but I turn to my husband. I live in reality to heal myself. Writing fantasy had to become something more than just a bandaid for my emotions. It needed to become a world I would want to visit while I am happy. 

Ravenmaster was a happy place. It’s why I could finish my book and not totally hate it. Could it be better? Yes. The second book will be much better…and longer. I am also using the season of lent and my 40 days of writing to work on the Motivation that drives Molly and Liam outside of just surviving. I want them to achieve their goals and fall in love. To heal with one another because they just survived something that should have killed them.

So while I may not be sharing my post on social media, I will still be writing. Sometimes WordPress works with me and the share button actually shares things. Which is great. But be sure to stop by from time to time to see what I am writing because from February 14th until March 28th, there will be radio silence from me. 

Writing

Do what terrifies you

Alexandra Diane
Bloganuary writing prompt
What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
View all responses

I’ve taken bold steps like skydiving, leaving my old life behind to live in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language, and transitioning my career from something I’ve done since I was fifteen years old – to teaching teenagers. However, I find nothing as terrifying as sharing my writing with the world. If skydiving takes a wrong turn, I’m dead. If living in a foreign country doesn’t work for me (which it really, really, really, didn’t) I could just return home. And my students will eventually graduate, leaving whatever memories of me to just that, memories. But when I bare my heart and soul into my work, I am leaving myself exposed to criticism from the world. I am allowing strangers a chance to read my work and comment on what I’ve shared. 

Growing up, I would write short stories and scripts. I didn’t know how to write in proper screenplay format, but that didn’t stop me. I would warn whoever read my work that I was still learning, and they were my friends. They didn’t know any better. But something happened when I reached college. I still wrote as an escape, especially from math class, but I stopped sharing my work with nearly everyone. I went from sharing my work with anyone who had an email address to just a very select group of people. I became terrified of two things: 

  1. People not liking my writing and telling me it was trash.
  2. I didn’t want anyone to know I had severe dyslexia. 

I was an awful speller and had atrocious grammar. Part of me feels that the public school system failed me. However, after working in the system, I know it did, but it wasn’t the teachers’ fault. So much red tape ties their hands that it is nearly impossible for them to actually teach. But that is a story for a different day. I didn’t become secure with my writing until I graduated from college. Even then, I had to break out of the technical academic writing and return to the creative style I love most. 

My biggest breakthrough was working with my writing life partner that I’ve tortured for nearly the last decade. We would spend hours going over my work in google docs. Watching him live, edit my writing, and explain what I’ve done wrong was better than any degree I could have achieved. He helped me understand the points that I missed in school. I’m sure they were taught at some point, but my young brain didn’t absorb the information. Another thing he did was tell me when my work was trash. But he didn’t just say, “Alex, this is shit.” He would say, “Alex, this is shit because….” and we would work on expanding and correcting the issues. Our edit sessions have whittled because of time as we have grown older. Kids have gotten in the way of my hobbies. He, apparently, has something called a life. However, he has not been released from his blood oath of helping me finish my work 🙂 

Time, care, and attention is what pushed me through my darkest moments as a writer. I’ve learned time and time again that the masses may not enjoy my work. However, I learned to appreciate those who like my work. Maybe one day I’ll be a famous author. Maybe I won’t. But I won’t let my fears trap me again. 

Bloganuary

My TBR List

Alexandra Diane
Bloganuary writing prompt
What books do you want to read?
View all responses

Good lord this is a loaded topic. I might as well attach my GoodReads account instead of listing out all. Instead of listing books I want to read, I’ll give you my top five authors I’d like to read more of.

  1. J. L. Jackola: I started following Jackola on twitter and watched her journey as a writer. I am not sure if I found her books first or discovered them because of her tweets. Whichever came first. It doesn’t matter because I am addicted to her books. The Unbound Prophecy trilogy hooked me. Even though there was nearly no spice, I didn’t need it. The love between Violissa and Sinow was more than enough to keep me reading through the other 11 other books related to the prophecy.
  2. Elise Kova: After going through my GoodReads account, I figured out that I have read 22 of Kova’s books and discovered I have six more books to read. The romances that Kova can create mixed in with detailed high fantasy worlds are one of my absolute favorites. Also, it helps that she is a Florida author and I want to support all my Florida people. 
  3. Sylvia Mercedes: I have read 11 of Mercedes’ books and have to read 19 more of her books. Her FMC’s are badass women who kick ass. I enjoy reading the wild adventures and epic journeys she takes her characters on.
  4. L.J. Andrews:  The Broken Kingdoms’ fantasy viking series hooked me on L.J. Andrews books. I have read 7 out of the 9 books in the series and am trying to find room on my kindle to add the last two. I know once I have completed those books I’ll have to dive deep into Dragon Mage, The Djinn Kingdom, or The Lost Relic series.
  5. Demi Winters: Demi Winters is a new author that I discovered on social media. Her viking, fantasy romance kept me up a few nights because I did not want the story to end. I am eagerly awaiting her second book of the Ashen series.

Bloganuary, Writing

As a Mother, Educator, or Writer?

Alexandra Diane
Daily writing prompt
What is your mission?
View all responses

The prompt today is: What’s your mission? But that’s not a straightforward question to answer. I wear many hats, so how do I know which mission they are asking about? So I’ll answer for all. 

As a mother, my mission is not to raise assholes. Children are only children for such a short time. They will spend a majority of their lives beyond my home and care, making it my duty to raise decent humans. I know it may be a silly concept, but I am not talking about raising people pleasers either. I want my children to know when to be respectful, when to reach out to those in need, and be able to work with others. To know right from wrong, when to seek help or when to problem solve. More importantly, I want them to know when to stand up for themselves and how to leave a dangerous situation. 

Parenting is about love and care, and so is teaching. My course is an elective, a choice program that students apply to be a part of. It is considered a career and technical educational course. And for me, it’s so much more than teaching students how to use a camera and edit. I heavily focus my projects on critical thinking and problem solving. I want my students to understand how to research their topics and find credible sources. The aim is to expose the dangers of unquestioning information and to showcase the ease false information can be created. I usually go off script when students are required to engage in the school-wide Mental Health lessons. Most teachers just have the student watch the videos and answer the questions and leave it at that. The students find the lessons to be a waste of time because they include dated examples. However, I speak to the class about my personal life experiences that relate to the lessons. Many students have thanked me because they feel uneasy or need time to process the information after the lessons. After the Techsafe lesson, I have all my students take out their cellphones. I explain to them how metadata works and show them how their pictures create a map of everywhere they have gone. We then go through their settings and turn off different location trackers.

As for being a writer, I don’t have a mission for anyone aside from myself. Writing is therapy. Sometimes I use it to express emotions and negative feelings, and other times to share thoughts I don’t want to keep to myself. I have had thoughts that have been beneficial to others and have found the readers who needed to know they are not alone. However, I don’t market my work or seek attention for what I write. I write for myself, be it my blog, my short stories, or my book. I write because it is a passion, not a mission to make money.  

Short Stories

The Escape

Alexandra Diane

Light from the street lamps struggled to penetrate the dense fog that filled the night. The fog lights on my Challenger weren’t doing the trick, either. Though I had driven these streets a million times since I was fifteen, I wasn’t going to speed through them. You never knew what might jump out at you, and that wasn’t a risk I was going to take.

Screeching tires broke the sounds of the main street. Headlights rushed towards my car. I swerved to the right, running over flowered bushes, praying that whatever idiot behind the wheel would gain control. But in my rearview mirror, I saw one of the worst things ever. A body was sent flying in the air. I threw my car into the park as fast as I could. Looking back at it now, the way my car was propped up on the curb sitting on destroyed bushes, I could understand what happened next.

“Did you just hit that man?” My accuser was a young waitress who just rushed out from a building.


“What? No. I was trying to avoid the other car.” But there was no sign of another car—just the mangled body of the man lying in the middle of the road.


“Don’t go anywhere. I called the cops.” Her command was lost on me when her voice shook.

It wasn’t as though I was going anywhere. I bent down to the man and checked his pulse. He was dead. I didn’t need to check his pulse, really. After working five years in the E.R., I could tell by just looking at the blood loss that he was dead. His left arm had the bone protruding from it. His legs were twisted around each other. I’d seen something similar to this before when I passed an accident on I95. But the driver was going easily over 80. There was no way this driver should have legally been going over 45, and with this fog, even 30 was too fast for my taste.


“Ma’am, could you come with me, please?” The officer walked us over to his car. “Could you tell me what happened, please?”


“Sure, I was driving when headlights came at me. I swerved to miss the car, and that’s when I saw that the other car had hit this man.” I watched as the officer wrote everything I said.


“Ma’am, where is your car?” He looked around but saw nothing.


“It’s right over here.” But when we got to where my car should be, it was gone. The bushes weren’t even touched. “What?”

“Ma’am, are you sure you left your car here?” He frowned at me like I was an idiot.


“No, sir, I am not. I just got off a twelve-hour shift at St. Lawrence hospital.” I saw him about to call me ma’am again. “Please, my name is Claire Wallace. You don’t have to call me ma’am.”


“The same Claire Wallace who was dating the mayor’s son?” The officer was getting flustered.


“Yes, but that was almost a year ago. Why does that matter?” This man was acting really weird, and I was exhausted. I don’t know why he kept asking so many questions.


“Ma’am, that is who the victim is. You’ll have to come with me.”


“Claire, what happened?” Trent finally asked when we left the station.


“They think I killed Chris.” It took me a moment, but I was sitting in my car. “How did you get my car?”


“Brad saw it on the side of the road. I picked it up before you even called. You scratched the hell out of the side.” Once he turned the key and the engine purred, I started to relax. “Let’s get you home before you do any more damage to this baby.”


The fog hadn’t lifted in the three hours since the accident. It was almost ten in the morning, and it was still covering our town. Before we pulled into the garage, I saw a cop car waiting down the road. It gave me the creeps.


“Guess they are seeing if you’re trying to skip town.” Trent locked the door behind him.


“I don’t know why they think I would want to kill him. I left the druggie, not the other way around.”


“I know, babe. But the Mayor is a wack job, and the apple doesn’t fall far from that tree.” The smell of fresh coffee had filled our house – I had the best boyfriend. Even when picking me up from the police station, he had thought of me. “What would you like to do today?”

“Try and figure out how two cars just disappeared this morning. I mean, there weren’t even tire tracks from the other car, and when the cop went looking for mine, he thought I was crazy.”


“Don’t get mad at me, but are you sure there was another car?” My death stare answered that question. “And did you do anything to your car?”


“What? No! Never in public. Not after how the Mayor reacted when she barely saw me use magic.” I had been so careful not to use magic. The Mayor had, for all intents and. They purposely started a witch hunt since she found out that magic was real.


Trent’s head snapped towards the back window. The blinds helped prevent people from seeing in and did wonders for exposing intruders on the other side. There was no doubt in my mind that the large build on the other side was a cop. This whole situation was getting weird. I was not going to be under surveillance for a crime I didn’t commit.


“Can I help you, officer?” I know I shouldn’t have used magic. The man was clearly startled. “Oh yeah, you shouldn’t stand on those rocks. They aren’t very sturdy.”


“I’m sorry, Ms. Wallace. I was just making sure you got home since you seemed a bit out of it at the station.” This wasn’t the same officer who brought me in. This man was larger and had an attitude about him.

“As you can see, I have made it home. And if you wouldn’t mind leaving, I have had a long night.” I walked back to the sliding glass door. “Next time, officer, please use the front door.”


I slept throughout the day and was only woken when I heard Trent’s keys unlock the door. He was at our bedroom door before I even had time to put my robe on.


“Pack your things. We’re leaving.” He was already pulling the suitcases from the closest. “What’s wrong?”

I stood there frozen.


“I overheard one of the partners today. The Mayor is coming after you. She is telling everyone you killed Chris with magic.” Trent’s magic was stronger than mine. His clothes were already filling his suitcase.


“You’re fucking with me. How does anyone believe her?” I couldn’t focus enough to use magic. I had to pack everything with my hands.

“Claire, we live in the deep south. Sometimes I wonder if these people know what century it is.”


Who knew someone I dated for six months would cause so much trouble? I could not believe we swiftly packed our lives away. We only brought pictures, our laptops, my jewelry, and some clothes. We could start somewhere else. After we pulled away from the house, three cop cars followed us. I ducked myself out of view till it hurt to be bent that way.


Once I knew I could sit up, I cloaked myself with invisibility, but it was making me sick. As we drove past a few cops, Trent would wave, and my heart would race. There were a bunch of them he knew from past cases. Then it happened—lights and the shrill of the siren. I kept yelling for Trent to floor it, make the car floor it, or at least something. Just not stop. The officer who was at the scene of the accident walked up to our car. A bright light shined into the car. I knew the light was dancing off of me. I could see the flicker. I could feel the invisibility wavering in and out. That is, all I needed was to show this man that the Mayor was right.


“Step out of the car, please.” Trent stepped out of the car, and the two men embraced. “Safe travel requested?”


My invisibility failed me as my mouth fell open. “Thank you, brother.” He didn’t mean as a blood brother. This officer was one of us.


“You know where the safe house is?” Trent nodded. “Good, they are waiting for you. Sister, you made the worst enemy.”


As he walked back, he called out to the other officers. “They are heading west on I-45 in a blue Chevy Tahoe.”