I hope you enjoy this excerpt from my latest book, recommended for audiences 18 and up due to language and adult situations. A vampire novel romance novel.
Second Chances Suck
Melissa Solis
Evil whispers to us in hushed tones. It never yells or makes itself blaringly obvious. Evil is quiet in its deception. It creeps in through the shadows under a blanket of stars, wrapping its malleable tendrils around our heart like a parasite. There it plants its seed, unbeknownst to its host, it feeds and grows and takes over sometimes. That's where I come in.
Chapter 1
Ezra~
I blink back at the four individuals staring me down like I just stole their limited edition Ferrari Enzo. Did I? I think to myself. No, not that I can recall.
I'm standing in the center of a vast room that doesn't feel remotely familiar except for the fact that it feels very similar to a courtroom, a place I'm all too familiar with. Yes, I'm feeling very judged right now by the four individuals seated in front of me. How did I even get to this place? The last thing I remember is driving as fast as my old clunker would fly, trying to out run the police. Ah yes, the train I didn't see coming. I was about to collide with a fast moving cargo train. Now I remember the feeling of dread filling me right before I came here.
"So what, am I dead or something?" I ask the group of four. Two women and two men sit behind an intricately carved bench that appears to be taller than my own height. The brunette woman on the end is holding back a smile. The man next to her looks as serious as shit and raises a brow at my question.
The beautiful blonde next to him speaks first. "Ezra Cole, you are indeed dead."
I glance up to the ceiling with the damn luck I have. I knew it. This place is too far out there to be anywhere near home. The walls are paneled in marble. Delicate chandeliers drip from the ceiling making the room glow with inner light. The people at the bench look as if they are lit from behind as well. Nothing about this place says, you've just been arrested... again.
Thirty eight years, is that all I get? Wasted, is the next word that comes to mind. My life was wasted. Not a day went by that I didn't spend getting in or out of trouble. All for what? Where did it all get me? All I ever wanted was to get out from the life I was leading. If I could catch just one break then I could stop messing up.
I remember the first time that I ever committed a crime. I was fifteen and living with this foster family that was as tough as nails. They would only buy us three shirts and one pair of pants to get through each week. I was being ridiculed at school for wearing the same clothes all the time, I hated it. I had no money to buy anything for myself, so one day after school, I fingered a couple of T-shirts into my packpack and never looked back. I didn't get caught. It made me sick to my stomach when I got home after getting away with it. I remember I even hid the shirts from my foster mom and washed them in the sink after lights out. I'd hang them to dry over night and keep them in my bag to stay hidden. I was so afraid I would get in trouble for those shirts but at least I didn't have to wear the same shirt twice in one week.
"Suicide was a poor choice to make Ezra Cole," the fellow on the end adds. I notice he has a thick Irish accent.
"Hold up. Suicide? I didn't kill myself."
They look down at their notes, I can only guess, and then they confer for a moment. The cute brunette on the end winks at me and I return the gesture. She’s kind of sassy. The man next to her catches the exchange and looks pissed again.
"I was driving fast and I didn't see the train, but I assure you, I didn't want to die by way of ninety tons of Union Pacific crushing my ass."
"Language Ezra!" the pretty man in the middle barks.
"We also see that in your life consisting of armed robbery, conning people out of money and numerous other offenses, that you have never done the one thing that could have righted your wrongs. You never asked Him to forgive you. Were you not aware that your sins could be washed away with this one sincere act?"
The beautiful blond woman's words tear into my very soul and spill out my guts for the world to pay witness to my cowardliness. Tears spring from my eyes and I don't even try to hide them. I don't under stand it. As she stares into me I began to see the faces of the many people I hurt along the way. I can feel the hurt within each of them the moment they learned I'd decieved them. I never realized that I had that much of an impact on people.
One of my foster mother's face comes into view. I was angry about my situation and I took that anger out on another one of her foster kids, another teenager like me. We weren't well matched and I beat him up pretty badly. I could tell I disapointed her. I hated myself for it, but her only punishment for me was to make me carry his bag to school everyday for the rest of the year. It was more of a punishment for him because he had to walk next to me each day. But over the course of that year we became friends. I think it was her plan all along. She was the one good foster I had and then my luck had run its course. She was found to have cancer and couldn't care for us anymore. My social worker informed me she passed away not long after we were moved. I never saw her or my friend again.
After I ran away, I did what ever it took to survive. I stole from people, lifted their wallets or purses with ease. I would use the money to rent a cheap motel room for a night to shower and rest in a real bed. Later I learned to steal cars and strip them of their most valuable parts. I shipped the parts all over and had a thriving online business. Then I met Voss, he drew me into the wide world of luxury car theft. One night I was trying to get away in a Porche and when I rounded the corner I clipped a pedestrian. My heart sank as I saw the man fly a couple of feet and grab his leg in pain. I'm sure I broke his leg, but I didn't dare stop. I could have killed him.
The faces continue to haunt me as the blonde woman keeps her gaze locked on me. Not only that, I can feel each person's anguish the moment I hurt them. I shake my head, disgusted with myself.
"I don't deserve forgiveness. I deserve to rot in hell and I don't blame you for sending me there if that's what your about to do." I sink to my knees and wait for the heat to consume me. I stare blankly at their concerned faces. The brunette whispers to the rest of them and for some reason I think she feels sympathetic towards me. They bicker back and forth for a moment, and they must reach a unanimous decision. I close my eyes and let out a long breath. So this is death?
"You were brought to this counsel because it was believed you had committed suicide. It is our custom to offer those who take their own lives a way to redeem themselves by being servants to the Keepers, instead of going into limbo. We see why you feel unworthy to be given the gift of eternal life, you've had to make some very difficult choices in your life. Therefore we've decided to offer you a way to redeem yourself, even though a mistake brought you to this counsel."
Again, the brunette gives me a knowing smile. "Without ever once asking his forgiveness, your soul would be given over to the fallen ones. You would go to hell. However, we believe that there’s still hope for you. If you take our assignment and complete the mission, and lastly, ask for forgiveness, you will be granted entry into heaven where you will know how much He loves you, His son. He's always been with you trying to get you to let Him into your heart. He knocked and knocked yet you would never answer."
I'm crying like a baby now. It's all true, everything they’ve said. I never felt like I could turn to anyone but myself to get me out of life's strangling grip. Every turn I made was wrong. It was like nothing ever went in my favor. My dad rotted away in prison for murdering my mother. I blew through foster homes like they were a yellow traffic light on the verge of turning. I ended up on the streets of Sydney trying to make it on my own at fifteen. The crimes I committed were just a way to survive, a means to an end.
Hearing this woman tell me that I am His son and He's been asking, no begging his way into my heart, breaks something in me. I beg His forgiveness right there on my knees. With my head in my hands I plead for him to forgive me. I know I don't deserve it, and maybe it is too late, maybe he finally gave up on me the way the rest of the world had. But the small thought that He loved me once, is enough to keep me on my knees, and bring my hands together in prayer. I slump over, wrung out and left to dry. I glance up at the four people, and see they are all teary eyed. It humbles me, as I take in a shuddering breath.
My palms roll on my knees to face up in surrender. "I will do anything you ask of me."
"Excellent. How do you feel about becoming a vampire?" The blond woman smirks.
I tick my head back in disbelief and swallow hard. They motion for me to approach the bench. I ease up off of my knees and make the walk up to them.
"My name is Emmagen, I am the high seraphim angel. This is Cat, she'll be your coordinator. This is Michael the arch angel, and this is Mudd. We make up the counsel of angels here in Amorous. Come, we will discuss the details of your arrangement."
Chapter 1
Ezra~
I blink back at the four individuals staring me down like I just stole their limited edition Ferrari Enzo. Did I? I think to myself. No, not that I can recall.
I'm standing in the center of a vast room that doesn't feel remotely familiar except for the fact that it feels very similar to a courtroom, a place I'm all too familiar with. Yes, I'm feeling very judged right now by the four individuals seated in front of me. How did I even get to this place? The last thing I remember is driving as fast as my old clunker would fly, trying to out run the police. Ah yes, the train I didn't see coming. I was about to collide with a fast moving cargo train. Now I remember the feeling of dread filling me right before I came here.
"So what, am I dead or something?" I ask the group of four. Two women and two men sit behind an intricately carved bench that appears to be taller than my own height. The brunette woman on the end is holding back a smile. The man next to her looks as serious as shit and raises a brow at my question.
The beautiful blonde next to him speaks first. "Ezra Cole, you are indeed dead."
I glance up to the ceiling with the damn luck I have. I knew it. This place is too far out there to be anywhere near home. The walls are paneled in marble. Delicate chandeliers drip from the ceiling making the room glow with inner light. The people at the bench look as if they are lit from behind as well. Nothing about this place says, you've just been arrested... again.
Thirty eight years, is that all I get? Wasted, is the next word that comes to mind. My life was wasted. Not a day went by that I didn't spend getting in or out of trouble. All for what? Where did it all get me? All I ever wanted was to get out from the life I was leading. If I could catch just one break then I could stop messing up.
I remember the first time that I ever committed a crime. I was fifteen and living with this foster family that was as tough as nails. They would only buy us three shirts and one pair of pants to get through each week. I was being ridiculed at school for wearing the same clothes all the time, I hated it. I had no money to buy anything for myself, so one day after school, I fingered a couple of T-shirts into my packpack and never looked back. I didn't get caught. It made me sick to my stomach when I got home after getting away with it. I remember I even hid the shirts from my foster mom and washed them in the sink after lights out. I'd hang them to dry over night and keep them in my bag to stay hidden. I was so afraid I would get in trouble for those shirts but at least I didn't have to wear the same shirt twice in one week.
"Suicide was a poor choice to make Ezra Cole," the fellow on the end adds. I notice he has a thick Irish accent.
"Hold up. Suicide? I didn't kill myself."
They look down at their notes, I can only guess, and then they confer for a moment. The cute brunette on the end winks at me and I return the gesture. She’s kind of sassy. The man next to her catches the exchange and looks pissed again.
"I was driving fast and I didn't see the train, but I assure you, I didn't want to die by way of ninety tons of Union Pacific crushing my ass."
"Language Ezra!" the pretty man in the middle barks.
"We also see that in your life consisting of armed robbery, conning people out of money and numerous other offenses, that you have never done the one thing that could have righted your wrongs. You never asked Him to forgive you. Were you not aware that your sins could be washed away with this one sincere act?"
The beautiful blond woman's words tear into my very soul and spill out my guts for the world to pay witness to my cowardliness. Tears spring from my eyes and I don't even try to hide them. I don't under stand it. As she stares into me I began to see the faces of the many people I hurt along the way. I can feel the hurt within each of them the moment they learned I'd decieved them. I never realized that I had that much of an impact on people.
One of my foster mother's face comes into view. I was angry about my situation and I took that anger out on another one of her foster kids, another teenager like me. We weren't well matched and I beat him up pretty badly. I could tell I disapointed her. I hated myself for it, but her only punishment for me was to make me carry his bag to school everyday for the rest of the year. It was more of a punishment for him because he had to walk next to me each day. But over the course of that year we became friends. I think it was her plan all along. She was the one good foster I had and then my luck had run its course. She was found to have cancer and couldn't care for us anymore. My social worker informed me she passed away not long after we were moved. I never saw her or my friend again.
After I ran away, I did what ever it took to survive. I stole from people, lifted their wallets or purses with ease. I would use the money to rent a cheap motel room for a night to shower and rest in a real bed. Later I learned to steal cars and strip them of their most valuable parts. I shipped the parts all over and had a thriving online business. Then I met Voss, he drew me into the wide world of luxury car theft. One night I was trying to get away in a Porche and when I rounded the corner I clipped a pedestrian. My heart sank as I saw the man fly a couple of feet and grab his leg in pain. I'm sure I broke his leg, but I didn't dare stop. I could have killed him.
The faces continue to haunt me as the blonde woman keeps her gaze locked on me. Not only that, I can feel each person's anguish the moment I hurt them. I shake my head, disgusted with myself.
"I don't deserve forgiveness. I deserve to rot in hell and I don't blame you for sending me there if that's what your about to do." I sink to my knees and wait for the heat to consume me. I stare blankly at their concerned faces. The brunette whispers to the rest of them and for some reason I think she feels sympathetic towards me. They bicker back and forth for a moment, and they must reach a unanimous decision. I close my eyes and let out a long breath. So this is death?
"You were brought to this counsel because it was believed you had committed suicide. It is our custom to offer those who take their own lives a way to redeem themselves by being servants to the Keepers, instead of going into limbo. We see why you feel unworthy to be given the gift of eternal life, you've had to make some very difficult choices in your life. Therefore we've decided to offer you a way to redeem yourself, even though a mistake brought you to this counsel."
Again, the brunette gives me a knowing smile. "Without ever once asking his forgiveness, your soul would be given over to the fallen ones. You would go to hell. However, we believe that there’s still hope for you. If you take our assignment and complete the mission, and lastly, ask for forgiveness, you will be granted entry into heaven where you will know how much He loves you, His son. He's always been with you trying to get you to let Him into your heart. He knocked and knocked yet you would never answer."
I'm crying like a baby now. It's all true, everything they’ve said. I never felt like I could turn to anyone but myself to get me out of life's strangling grip. Every turn I made was wrong. It was like nothing ever went in my favor. My dad rotted away in prison for murdering my mother. I blew through foster homes like they were a yellow traffic light on the verge of turning. I ended up on the streets of Sydney trying to make it on my own at fifteen. The crimes I committed were just a way to survive, a means to an end.
Hearing this woman tell me that I am His son and He's been asking, no begging his way into my heart, breaks something in me. I beg His forgiveness right there on my knees. With my head in my hands I plead for him to forgive me. I know I don't deserve it, and maybe it is too late, maybe he finally gave up on me the way the rest of the world had. But the small thought that He loved me once, is enough to keep me on my knees, and bring my hands together in prayer. I slump over, wrung out and left to dry. I glance up at the four people, and see they are all teary eyed. It humbles me, as I take in a shuddering breath.
My palms roll on my knees to face up in surrender. "I will do anything you ask of me."
"Excellent. How do you feel about becoming a vampire?" The blond woman smirks.
I tick my head back in disbelief and swallow hard. They motion for me to approach the bench. I ease up off of my knees and make the walk up to them.
"My name is Emmagen, I am the high seraphim angel. This is Cat, she'll be your coordinator. This is Michael the arch angel, and this is Mudd. We make up the counsel of angels here in Amorous. Come, we will discuss the details of your arrangement."
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