text.skipToContent text.skipToNavigation

Colors of Immortality von Muller, J. M. (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 07.05.2016
  • Verlag: BookBaby
eBook (ePUB)
3,56 €
inkl. gesetzl. MwSt.
Sofort per Download lieferbar

Online verfügbar

Colors of Immortality

Daniel Thatcher has accepted some hard truths. He knows his parents are junkies, his ex-girlfriend's a cheater, and he's one write-up away from losing his job. But what he's unwilling to accept is that his friend Tony skipped town for no reason. So when Daniel finds a map Tony left behind, he follows it to a remote section of the Cascade Mountains. It's a land filled with haunting shadows and crowded trees-an area untouched by man. Or so Daniel thinks. Not long after arriving in the woods, Daniel discovers inhabitants living in the heart of the forest. Despite their peculiar behavior, the reclusive residents posses an allure that goes far beyond their beauty. But beneath their lovely exterior rests a sinister secret, one that's both lethal and tragic. It seems the dead don't always stay buried. Now Daniel's forced to accept the hardest truth of all: monsters do exist, and if they have it their way, he'll soon become one of them. Authors note: please remember to read 'The Legend' following the epilogue

Produktinformationen

    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: AdobeDRM
    Seitenzahl: 272
    Erscheinungsdatum: 07.05.2016
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9781483569628
    Verlag: BookBaby
    Größe: 973 kBytes
Weiterlesen weniger lesen

Colors of Immortality

I was screwed. Like, big-time screwed. That was my sole thought as I stood outside Mick's Grocery and stared across the lot. Something was wrong, although I couldn't quite determine what that something was. All around me, life ambled along-carts squeaked, a bratty kid screamed, an old couple griped-everyone and everything was in fluid motion. Everyone except me. I'd morphed into a dimwitted mouth-breather, too stupid and slow to process the sight in front of me. It was because my truck was off. With its faded paint and dented body, it was the same motorized monstrosity it had been earlier. That much hadn't changed. Unworthy of the nobler spaces closer up, I parked it in its rightful place-far from the store. I'd always assumed it couldn't get any worse, that is, until I spotted what was wrong. It was leaning. My eyes went straight to a single, misshapen tire. "Son of a-" I started, stopping short when I remembered my uniform. A complaint to management about an employee swearing on company grounds was write-up worthy. Even without a name, they'd know it was me. All they'd have to say was: young, blond male, and I'd have earned my third strike. I would be unemployed in a millisecond, and it wouldn't matter that I was off the clock. In a fit, I ripped off the idiotic bow tie I wore and shoved it into my pocket. My eyes darted from bumper to bumper in a visual sweep as I stalked across the lot. I found no new scratches-at least no new obvious scratches-and my gas latch was intact. I ran my hands along the tread, searching for gashes and holes. My gut told me this wasn't bad luck, but something deliberate. Considering the crappy start to my weekend, it wasn't a huge leap. But the only thing out of place was a missing valve cap. That wasn't a big deal. I'd lost them before, and as long as the valve remained clear of debris, the air stayed put. Of course, someone could've purposely drained it, but the time it would take to empty the tire would require serious balls. Unlikely . I let out a shaky breath, relieved that sabotage wasn't part of the equation. It's one thing to have the universe hell-bent on destroying you; it's another when an anonymous asshole takes up the job. I used my apron to wipe the grime from my hands and unlocked the cab. I'd have to call Tony and stall him. Mr. Greenwich, my tub-of-lard boss, had made me late by fifteen crucial minutes. Pulling open the glove compartment, I searched for my cell, only it wasn't there. I frantically checked my pockets, digging deep and finding only lint. Panic rolled through my limbs with each passing second. Breathing became a task, and I couldn't still my hands even if I'd tried. I looked on the floor, behind the seat, between the cushions-everywhere-and still found nothing. That's when I remembered why. It was sitting on the end table near my bed, shut off and charging. I'd completely forgotten to grab it. Worst. Case. Scenario. I slammed the door shut and threw my palm forward, smacking the frame with a thwap . I pulled back and did it again, hurling my hand into cold metal. The cycle continued until the flesh stung so sharply beneath my fingers, I was forced to stop. Defeated, I leaned against my truck and took in air. My options were bleak. Even if I went inside to use the phone, I wouldn't know what number to call. Tony was number three on speed dial, trailing only behind Gram and Sarah. That meant I'd have to ask Mr. Greenwich for Tony's number-which he had since Tony worked the produce department-but I doubted he'd give it to me. Or I could switch out the tire and haul ass to Tony's, hoping he hadn't already ditched me which, to be honest, was a real possibility, considering his alarming level of infatuation for Candace. I decided on the latter.

Weiterlesen weniger lesen

Kundenbewertungen