Genre:
Paranormal
ISBN-13:
978-1478349501
ISBN-10:
1478349506
ASIN:
B004AYDGVM
Number
of pages: 346
Word
Count: 121,705
Book
Description:
She
picked the worst guy to have an affair with! - Evil stalks in Hawaii
Michelle
was brutally attacked in her locked hotel room in Las Vegas. The
police didn't believe her and thought she must have lured a man up to
her hotel room for a little sexual adventure, which went dangerously
out of control.
Michelle
sustained visible scars from the terrifying and almost lethal attack,
but pure fear motivated the move from her home in California to
Hawaii. She's scared her attacker will come back. She's sure the next
time he'll kill her. Now she has a successful career and she figures
abstinence is an acceptable, if lonely, way to live.
Michelle
decides that an affair with a wickedly handsome man who moves into
her building might cure her of the humiliating, embarrassing, and
uncontrollable anxiety attacks which plague her whenever she finds
herself alone with a man.
How
could she know she made the worst possible choice?
Omar
Satinov, the man Michelle has chosen, is a secret, whispered legend
across several continents. His lure is a mystical religion based upon
Witchcraft; his hook, the addictive herbal products he sells his
followers. But does he really have supernatural powers, as many of
his disciples believe?
Short
Excerpt
It was just past
twilight, almost time for the Crystal Prophesies. Omar leaned his
elbows on the penthouse balcony, enjoying the moment. This was a
magical time of day and he was a magician. He preferred calling
himself a Necromancer to the common titles: warlock, conjuror, magis,
seer or wizard. There were subtle variations, but he fancied
'romancer' in his title. Necromancer. It described him. He
romanced his way into hearts and minds. With the help of a little
magic.
As he gazed at the
panorama spread out below, the Pacific slowly changed from light blue
to a misty topaz. Lush clouds floated on the horizon, and stars
began to glow. To his left was the tinsel-tourist Waikiki, and to
his right the city of Honolulu was lighting up. Below him, in this
very building, he could sense the presence of a remarkable woman.
He turned, gazing
through plate glass windows into his new penthouse. Ginger and
Samson were inside. Ginger noticed his look and, with a flourish,
she uncovered an enormous crystal ball from its leather shroud. She
winked at him. Ginger was a disciple, a beautiful tall woman, with
long curly red hair. She wore a flowing blue gown for the ceremony.
It was a tradition
for the three of them to gaze into the crystal ball to divine their
future when they expanded to a new location. They had arrived in Oahu
a week ago. Tonight was perfect, the time of the full moon.
Omar went inside and
sat down in front of the crystal. The sphere was almost two feet in
diameter and sparkled on a base of black onyx. The three were seated
in the main living room, beneath a skylight. White rafters crossed
the cathedral ceiling. The room was dark except for a cold silvery
glow from the candles Ginger had placed around the room.
Omar passed his
hands over the crystal ball several times for theatrical effect,
principally for Samson, who was watching with curious eyes. Omar's
acolyte, Samson was a gigantic man who would never age mentally. He
did remember this ritual. His mouth was open in anticipation.
Omar frowned and
leaned closer, gazing into the depths of the crystal. Indeed, the
omens were not auspicious. Red forms floated amorphously inside,
constantly changing shape. This denoted the substance that
controlled all magical rites. Blood was a fluid like the tide; it
flowed like the ocean, was coaxed by the moon to move subtly in
bodies, causing emotional changes called lunacy. Sometimes it
spilled.
The black he
observed, swirling around the red forms like a night wind, could be
taken as a symbol of his own influence. It was the bright white
light clashing there which forced Omar's dark eyebrows to slide
together. White, an opposing force, seemed capable of exerting great
influence in these Hawaiian islands. Omar couldn't tell if it
indicated an old curse peculiar to these islands, with their ancient
polytheist beliefs, or if it referred to a threatening individual.
The
white was glowing, taking over. There was busy movement
inside the crystal. It might have been a reflection from
the stark white walls, but Omar was not taking chances.
"Who
will sacrifice?" he asked, frowning at Ginger and Samson in
turn. He took a dagger from the leather sheath that Ginger
had placed beside the crystal ball.
The
colossal young man cowered away.
Omar
shook his head. Samson let out a tiny moan, but Omar
swiftly reached across the crystal and pointed the tip of the dagger
at Ginger.
"I
need heart blood," Omar said.
Ginger
closed her eyes and nodded. He made a small slashing cut
above her left breast, above her heart. The cut was
superficial, but blood immediately started flowing.
Ginger
leaned forward and red dripped on the round crystal ball, and slowly,
like wine with good legs, inched down its sides.
Omar
recited incantations and waved his long expressive hands. Both
Ginger and Samson saw silver sparks extend from his fingertips and
enter into the crystal. Ginger thought the effect might have been
starlight drifting down from the skylight above. Samson
was sure it was magic.
Omar
peered into the depths of the crystal and was satisfied. The
white light was winking out. The sacrifice had been
potent.
His
mind again sought the lovely feminine presence he had felt below him
in this building. When he found it he smiled. His
final aspiration would be fulfilled. The Crystal Prophesy
said so.
About
the Author
PM
Richter is an author living in West Hollywood California. She has a
degree in Psychology, from Northridge State University. She has
worked as a property manager for Nansay, Corp. a multi-national
corporation, been a dance teacher for Arthur Murray and Fred Astaire
Dance Studios. She has five novels available on Amazon Kindle.
The
Living Image
The
Necromancer
Midnight
Reflections
Trifecta
Deadly
Memories
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I'd cast a spell for a self-cleaning house. It's never ending.
ReplyDeleteI'd cast a spell to turn back time. As the saying goes: youth is wasted on the young. So I'd really like a do-over. :D (Angie Edwards)
ReplyDelete