Just one of the songs I listened to while writing Sacred Bloodlines

Uri stepped off of the bike and glancing back at Gabe, raised his hands and commanded Gabe to “wait here” in a cool tone.  Gabe watched as Uri approached the car slowly and cautiously, Gabe’s breath catching in his throat.  Uri reached the rear doors and leaned forward peeking into the car.  After looking for a moment he lunged towards the front driver’s side door and pulled it open quickly, the car let out a huge creaking sound.  Gabe watched through narrowed eyes.

Two slender arms reached out from the car and pulled Uri half way into the vehicle.  Uri let out what almost sounded like a yelp.  Gabe leapt off the bike, trying to stay on his feet as the motorcycle hit the ground.  Losing his footing, Gabe fell backwards on the dirt, frightened by what was unfolding before him.  He turned and pushed himself up on his knees, preparing to run.

Official Release Date: November 25th, 2011.  This Black Friday be sure one thing on your shopping list is the first installment of The Guardians Series, Sacred Bloodlines in ebook format.  Also stay tuned for more information about a giveaway, you might just win a free ebook copy of Sacred Bloodlines.

Chapter One

  Gabe closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cool subway tiles behind him.  The pungent smell of urine and burnt electrical wires filled his nostrils as the loud roar of a passing train erupted in his ears.  His social worker’s words replayed again and again in his head, “difficulties with home placement,” “past with such tragic incidents,” “more time needed to find the right parental candidates”.  Gabe knew what that meant, after years of being shipped from one foster family to the next it was clear people felt he was cursed.  And why wouldn’t they he thought.  It was even becoming obvious to him.

The bustle of the station began to increase as the train squealed to a halt.  Gabe grabbed his ragged black backpack and headed to the nearest set of open doors.  He twisted and turned trying to make his way through the thick crowd.  A chill came over him, one that was all too familiar and Gabe was suddenly filled with dread.  He stopped, dead in his tracks, and looked around at the sea of people.  Just steps from the train doors he found himself unable to move, he was simply staring and searching.  His breath was shallow and all the voices around him were instantly silenced as a pulsing white noise filled his head.

Gabe’s hands had become clammy and he felt his legs weaken.  “Are you getting on or what?” shouted the man behind him in a plain tan trench coat carrying a briefcase.  Gabe looked back at him, not able to hear what he was saying for a moment, still distracted by the deafening white noise in his head.  “Come on, some of us have places to be.” The man grumbled as he rudely pushed past Gabe and boarded the subway car.  Stumbling to a nearby column he steadied himself and attempted to regain his composure.  

As sounds came flooding back he heard the buzzer warning that the doors would soon be closing.  Gabe looked up, preparing to make a dash for the opening, but before he could make his move he caught site of a young woman standing just in front of the subway doors.  She was wearing a long black leather coat that was cinched at her waist and there was an odd grey color that surrounded her.  It was almost like a halo effect around her entire body.  He had seen this before, actually more times than he cared to recall.  He even saw the same grey aura the night his parents died.

Gabe stared intensely at her back as the girl stepped into the subway car and then slowly turned around.  Her hair was short, cut just above the chin, black in color and she wore it slicked back and tucked behind her petite ears.  Gabe thought she looked as though she were trying to remove the femininity from her small frame in any way she could.  Her skin was pale, the color reminded Gabe of milk.  He watched, frozen where he stood, as the girl lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes.  She flashed him a small wicked smile and as the doors closed he saw her eyes flicker a hint of red.  A moment later the train pulled away and Gabe slid to the cold floor as the crushing weight of the impending doom filled him.

Gabe had been plagued by these feelings and visions his entire life.  He could remember being sent to at least a dozen different therapists all over the city in recent years.  They were all the same however, ‘hallucinations brought on by depression caused by the tragic loss of his parents.’  Some had him writing his feelings in journals, but most of them found it easier to load him up on medication and send him on his way.  Gabe wondered if the therapists were all right, perhaps he was just crazy with grief.  His parents had died when he was only five years old.  He found it hard to believe such grief could plague a person for eleven years but what did he know, he was no…

A loud explosion suddenly interrupted Gabe’s thoughts.  He reached out his hands to try and steady himself as the ground under him shook violently.  Gabe threw up his arms to cover his head as plaster began to crumble and rain down from the high ceilings.  He looked in the direction of the explosion and saw that the tunnel where just moments before the train he was supposed to be on had been, had now become a huge cloud of flying debris.  Gabe’s brown hair blew back from the rush of air and he had to squint his eyes as the ash clouded his vision.  Larger pieces of plaster and tile began to fall all around him.  He rushed to the bench he had been sitting on earlier and slid under it, taking refuge from the dangerous rubble.

The one question all of those therapists could never answer for him was if his visions were simply a result of grief, then why did a disaster follow each one?  Gabe laid under that bench listening to the overwhelming screams of panic swirl around him.  He clenched his eyes tight trying to make it all disappear, but it wasn’t working.  It never helped, ever.  

Gabe had a trick he had learned long ago from his mother.  She told him when he was little if he ever was scared of something count to a hundred and somewhere along the way the object of his fear would disappear.  As a child the fear would usually subside around fifty.  He found after his parents death though he would often exceed a thousand before he could regain his composure.  Gabe stayed hidden and counting, completely losing track of time.  Under that bench, counting his safe numbers, Gabe was leaving the world behind.  The world was filled with a wicked darkness and that was a fear he could not count away.

As Gabe lay there, hoping to go unnoticed he felt the bench rock.  Glancing to his left he saw a pair of combat boots planted firmly on the ground.  He wondered with all the screaming and running around what kind of person would have a seat to watch the havoc unfold.  “Are you just going to sit under there all day?” asked the cool calm voice from above.  Gabe decided staying quiet and playing possum was the best solution and he continued his counting.  A few moments passed and the voice asked again, “Well?”  Suddenly an open hand reached down in an offer of assistance to Gabe.  

The black mesh fingerless glove on the hand was unique but what caught Gabe’s eye more was the silver jewelry perched proudly on the ring finger, over the glove.  On it was a serpent coiled around a tree with a dagger piercing through the serpent.  The ring looked old and worn, hundreds of years old, if Gabe had to guess.  Realizing this person was not going away Gabe took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled from his safe and secure hiding spot out into the open chaos of the subway tunnel.

Gabe pushed himself up from his knees to a standing position while studying the stranger in front of him.  This stranger wore faded and distressed jeans - they were a straight leg cut that had been gathered and tucked into his boots.  He wore a black v-neck shirt, the type that looked old even when they were new.  Over his t-shirt was a heavy green military jacket, but the name badge had been ripped off.  

Looking at the boy’s face Gabe realized that this kid couldn’t be much his senior.  He had thick sandy blonde hair that twisted and fell in large chunks all around his face.  There was also some slight stubble on his cheeks and chin.  The boy smiled up at him from the bench and Gabe noticed his almost glowing blue eyes.  Gabe’s eyes were eerily similar in color which he found unsettling since he had always been told how unique they were.  Gabe was overcome with a feeling of peace and serenity, not something he was used to feeling at all.  The boy motioned for Gabe to sit down next to him on the bench.  It was like he didn’t notice all the people around them screaming and crying for help.  Gabe hesitated.

“Look, it’s not like we’re going anywhere anytime soon.”  The boy said motioning over to the cluster of cops streaming down the stairs.  “You might as well have a seat.  We have a lot to talk about.”  The boy’s voice was calm as he stared directly ahead at the back wall across the subway tracks.

“Do I know you?” Gabe asked anxiously.

“No, but we know you Gabe Harwood.” The boy replied with a mysterious tone as a mischievous smile flash across his lips.  Glancing all around him nervously, Gabe wondered if he should make a mad dash for the nearest police officer.  He had to give plenty of witness statements in the past and the thought of spending the evening at a police precinct did not sound like anything he particularly wanted to do.  Rethinking his strategy Gabe turned and sat next to the boy.  He stared at the floor in front of him as if he were studying the detail in the dirt stained tiling.  He focused all his energy on resisting the urge to climb back under the bench to his hiding place.

“Look, I know this is hard and it doesn’t make sense but all I ask is you listen to everything I have to say and then you can make your decision.”  The boy’s voice cut through all the chaos around Gabe and suddenly he realized it was as if a volume knob in his head had been turned down on all the background noise.  The chaos had become  muffled and distant.  Gabe stared at the boy with a look of disbelief, not knowing if he were even real or just another figment of his imagination like the girl on the train.

“My name is Uri and I am like you.” Gabe looked up at Uri’s face.

“What do you mean you’re like me?”  Gabe asked.

“I understand where you are in your life right now because years ago I was at the same place.”  Uri answered.

“Look no offense,” Gabe started. “But I doubt you could understand anything about my life or where I am at.”

“Oh really?” Uri smirked. “Let me take a wild guess.  You feel like you’re cursed.  Death follows you wherever you are and you feel completely abandoned.  You wish it would all end for you, you think about how death is a release yet something compels you forward.”  The blood drained from Gabe’s face as he listened to Uri speak.  “You’re not alone Gabe, there is so many more like us and we want to help.”  There was silence for a moment as Gabe processed what the boy said.

“So what, my social worker sent you?  She was worried not being able to place me in a home would send me into a suicidal downward spiral?”  Gabe scoffed as if the suggestion were humorous rather than the truth that it was.  “Well tell her not to worry, I’m fine.  I don’t need anyone.”  Gabe started to get up from the bench but before he could Uri reached out and grabbed his wrist.  Suddenly Gabe felt an ache in his chest and a shortness of breath.  He looked back at Uri who was no longer smiling but staring intensely at him.

“Gabe, I was not sent here by your social worker.  I was sent here by someone more powerful than you can imagine.  There are so many things we need to show you to make you understand.  Just listen to me when I tell you we are here to help.  Please, you must come with me.”

Gabe felt caught in Uri’s gaze and seemed unable to move.  He stared at him, trying to make sense of the conversation when he caught sight of a glimmer of white glowing light flash in Uri’s eyes.  Startled Gabe jumped back in his seat and Uri’s hand fell from him.  Gabe had seen the red glimmer before but this was new.  Who or what was this guy he wondered.

“I don’t know who you are, you could be an axe murderer for all I know.  How am I supposed to just trust you and follow you?  For that matter, follow you where?” Gabe asked.

“Gabe, search your soul, what do your instincts tell you?” Uri asked.

“That you’re a crazy nut job and freaking me out.”  Gabe snapped back.

“We must go,” Uri said as he stood and looked towards the exit.  Gabe noticed how the boy suddenly seemed mechanical in his movements and he had gained a sense of urgency about him.  Uri stood and turning reached his hand out to Gabe.  Gabe stared at the outstretched hand, still unsure what to do.

“How are we even supposed to leave?  There is no way the cops are letting anyone out of here until they have been questioned.”  Gabe asked.

Uri quickly dropped to one knee to look Gabe in the eye, he leaned in close and brought his voice almost to a whisper; Gabe had to strain to listen. “I know you, I know who and what you are.  I can show you amazing things that will change your life forever.  We are just like you.  Gabe it’s your choice.”  Uri jumped to his feet again and extended his open hand to Gabe once more.

Taking a deep breath Gabe closed his eyes and took hold.  He figured Uri couldn’t bring any worse horror into his life than what he had already seen.  Uri pulled Gabe to his feet, whispering something under his breath. Gabe asked him to repeat himself but Uri didn’t reply.  He dragged him towards the nearest exit tunnel.  Gabe stumbled behind Uri and realized they were headed directly for a cluster of officers.  He protested saying “Uri, they are never going to let us through.  Wrong place at the wrong time only seems to go so far with them.”  Uri didn’t respond and just continued to walk towards the tunnel.

Five to six feet away from the officers Uri stopped, never letting go of Gabe’s hand.  Gabe watched and waited for one of the officers to say something but realized they were not even looking at them.  Uri studied the men, as if he were looking for a weak point and Gabe worried what Uri might be thinking.  A moment later Uri raised his free hand to his left and with fingers spread he tilted his head back and mumbled a word Gabe could not understand.  Gabe watched and wondered what type of insane character he had got himself hooked up with.  He jokingly thought in his head that this guy fancied himself some kind of Jedi knight, waiting for him to say, ‘these are not the droids you are looking for.’

Just then a woman’s shriek came from the direction where Uri had been lifting his hand.  All the officers rushed towards the source leaving the exit wide open.  Uri took a tighter hold of Gabe’s hand and led him up the stairs and out of the tunnel to freedom.  It was as if the officers had not even seen them, even though they only stood a few feet away.  “What was that?” Gabe asked, not realizing his mouth was still hanging open in shock.

Uri shrugged continuing up the stairs to the street, “Let’s get to the manor Gabe and I will explain everything, I promise.” 

“Manor?”  Gabe asked, clearly concerned but at this point Gabe was in such shock over what he had just seen he continued to follow Uri, replaying the last five minutes and their exit over and over again in his head.  

Uri didn’t answer.  He led Gabe to a side street where he had an older motorcycle parked.  Uri finally released Gabe’s hand and passed him a helmet.  “Put it on.” Uri commanded while starting the bike’s engine with a couple stomps.  Gabe slipped the helmet on and climbed behind Uri.  Within moments they were on their way, Gabe wondered where exactly.

So cover art is kind of a big deal to me.  I want it to convey my story to the readers in an image.  The old saying of don’t judge a book by its cover is a wonderful idea but one I find myself personally not always following.  If I can’t trust myself to not swoon or cringe at a books cover can I ask more from my readers?  So the search for cover art began.  Many people know I have been a freelance artist for over five years so it seemed obvious I would do my cover art, right?  Nope.  The more thought I gave it the more I didn’t want blur the lines between my art and my writing.  I have lived and breathed art for so long when I took on this monumental writing dream I made the decision to allow it to be the soul focus.  It may seem silly but I felt like doing my own cover was opening that door I wanted closed for now.

I started searching cover designers and found a couple I liked but even still I wanted something special and unique.  I have enlisted the help of someone I think will make a spectacular and extremely unique cover that is a lot closer to home.  Who is doing the cover you ask?  Well thats a surprise but when the cover is released I promise to share.  Its an exciting process and I am enjoying every part so far!