A Burdened Novel
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Number of pages: ebook (381)
Number of pages: paperback (423)
Word Count: 142K
Tracey Warren has everything an eighteen year old girl should. She lives a life of expectancies; go to school, please her parents, party with friends, and revel in life as a young adult.
That is until she experiences an unexpected life changing accident caused by Nathan Newcomb; an illegally attractive yet perplexed guy who has her fumbling over her words and cracking her head on the concrete. In being enthralled by his overwhelming existence, Tracey neglects his promise of death (which never falls short of Nathan) and in ignoring his guarantee, she chooses to give into love over sanity and risks her life for the opportunity of being with him.
Nathan, knowing the risks gives into this want to have Tracey presuming it may be better to jeopardize their possible ending, than to allow her to endure the pain of his devoid. Nonetheless, with him being a burdened Sephlem, not only are they burdened by their adversaries who will risk everything but the exposure of their existence to see Nathan fall. But Nathan and Tracey come to find that their most sinister enemies lie under their same roof and regrettably share the same bloodline.
Getting in my Mazda 6, there is a flyer on my window. They are really planning on advertising this party everywhere. Really, flyers? And on my car of all places. I hate shit on my car. Throwing the flyer to the backseat, I turn up the radio. There are little-to-no cars left, and I am so ready to be at home, on a couch, watching something not relevant to life.
Maybe there will be something on MTV, no, E, no… Maybe there will be a good movie on HBO, no, maybe on FX. Yeah, FX always has a good movie on. I’ll sit back in the family room and wa—
There’s a loud screech and a hard bang. I jolt forward and back—my body slams against the seat. Blinking, trying to get my eyes to focus, I’m dazed; my vision fades out then back in. I think—I think I just got hit waiting at a stop sign. Panic kicks in as I look myself over. Am I okay? Oh my goodness, am I hurt?
What the hell! Somebody just hit my damn car! I grab my head, feeling it starting to throb. I think I hit my head on the—
A tap pulls me from my self-examination.
No, the idiot who just hit me is not tapping on my damn window!
I open the door, pissed. “What? What the hell? You just hit me!” I yell, still trying to get my eyesight to focus.
“Um, yeah, I know.” I look at him. “I am so sorry.” The apologetic voice comes from a perfectly chiseled face that responds to my anger subtly.
He looks at me with slanted, brown, prominent eyes. When he turns a little away from the sun, they turn a slight hazel. His strong nose ends in a rounded point, and his hair—maybe black or brown, depending on how the sun hits it. Very attractive lips that say ‘Hey, I am here, kiss me.’ He is tall-enough to block the sun and that adds to his presence in a way that is equally hypnotizing. And his shoulders are broad-enough to block a tackle from a football player.
“I know this is probably the worst thing that could happen right before your break. I am truly sorry. I can get the car fixed for you.” His exposed arms show off his tanned skin tone, which somewhat glistens from the rays of the sun, and it’s as if I’m watching it soak up every ray.
I swing my legs from the car and step out. The world seems to shift. I grab my head, feeling dizzy. The earth feels like it’s moving beneath my feet, and I lose my balance.
He catches me with a quick grab of my arm and cuff of my waist. There is a tingle, slight burning feeling, where his hand touches my bare arm.
He makes sure I’m standing on my own, then quickly pulls his hand away. The earth shakes again and I become a little wobbly. He touches my shoulder, holding me in place, and makes sure not to let his hand touch my bare skin.
“Um, are you okay? You look a little out of it.” His voice is lyrical and smooth, with a base sound that adds a manly tone. Faultless. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
Damn, he’s talking to me. Remember words, Tracey, say something. “Um.” Better words. “Yeah, I think so. How did you hit me?” My voice sounds distant to me, and too calm.
“Completely not paying attention. I came here to pick up my cousin from school and didn’t see him. While searching the parking lot and texting him, I kind of lost focus on the important part of driving.”
“You do know you are not supposed to text and drive, right?” Holding my head, I walk around to the back of my car, checking for damages.
He follows. “Again, I apologize for any damages. I will get everything fixed.” His voice, now factual, has lost the apologetic tone.
Examining the back of my car, there are no real damages, besides some scratches and a ding by my license plate. But as my mom would say, ‘the damages can be under the car and not noticeable, honey.’ “Well, looks like the only real damage was to my head.” I lightly let my palm touch my head, feeling a knot start to protrude from the side of my forehead.
“Can I take you to the hospital? You do seem a little dazed.” He moves to look at the car. “And after we leave the hospital, we can take your car to the body shop, because even though it doesn’t seem like there are any damages, doesn’t mean there aren’t any under the car.” Really, Mom?
“That’s true, but I don’t think I need to go to the hospital. My head just hurts. I think I will be okay once I get something to eat and a Tylenol.” Each of my words comes out slowly. “I am just going to head home and maybe go to the body shop later.” I scrunch my nose, feeling disoriented. “I think I need a nap.” My thought process is off. I put my hands out to my sides when the earth starts shaking again.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says in a concerning tone. “You may have a concussion and it’s never good to go to sleep. You could slip into a coma.”
“Humph, maybe.” A striking pain shoots through my head. I reach up to touch it, seeing him do the same. His thumb grazes my hairline next to my temple, and that’s it. Everything goes black, and my body hits something hard. Maybe the car or…the ground.
I have never felt anything like this. I have been touched by many guys. Well, not touched but touched—brushed by them in the hall, held hands, given a hug. I have kissed a few guys, and not even with my first. Yes, that first. None of them ever had that type of effect on me, where I was knocked unconscious. This cannot be good. My dad is so going to kill me.
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About the Author:
A love for reading transpired into an admiration for writing at a young age for Peiri Ann. Starting off in writing poetry and short stories she indulged in the possibilities of creating new worlds and lives to live within them opening a window of unanticipated possibilities. In high school a pin and notebook never left her grasps and in college the pin was replaced by a keyboard and the notebook replaced by a computer screen. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and certified in business management.
When Peiri Ann is not writing, reading, doing homework, or working in the downtown of Chicago she enjoys spending time with her little girl, watching action flicks, and spooning peanut butter from the jar as a midnight snack.
Web – www.peiriann.com
Twitter - @peiriann
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/aburdenednovel