My name is Juliet Wildfire Stone, and I’m in big, life-and-death-sized trouble. It turns out there’s a big difference between being mostly human and being entirely human.
I’ve started seeing visions and hearing voices, and have no idea what they mean. It seems I’m a Chosen, but the abilities I’ve started to develop might not be enough to save me. A powerful entity called a Seeker is hunting me, and he’s close—really close.
I uncover an ancient secret society formed over two hundred years ago to keep me safe—me! I never asked these people to die for me, and I don’t want it. I must win this fight on my own. Prepared or not, I’ll face my fate and become the Chosen I’ve been destined to be all along.
EVOLVED PUBLISHING PRESENTS the first thrilling book in the multiple award-winning “Chosen” series of young adult fantasy thriller adventures. [DRM-Free]
Books by Jeff Altabef and/or Erynn Altabef:
More Great YA Fiction from Evolved Publishing:
Genre: YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Fantasy / General
This is the first book in the critically-acclaimed "Chosen" series. Each book in this series has won literary awards, and this series has spent significant time atop its categories at Amazon, where it is exclusive as eBooks. It even spent a little time as an Amazon #1 Bestseller.
When my vision clears, crimson-streaked fingers flutter near my face as if directed by someone else. I thought blood looked like ketchup, but it’s darker and thicker than you would think. My hands spin in tight circles. Each finger is stained with thick, mud-colored smears.
Whose blood is on them?
A cold sweat coats my back and my chest tightens. This blood must be scrubbed away immediately. It starts to burn as if it’s alive, as if possessed by dark spirits, spirits that want to harm me. It freaks me out. I have got to wash them clean now, this second, immediately, before....
I turn the faucet and hot water tumbles over my skin. I frantically rub my fingers together and hope friction and water alone will make the blood disappear. The water in the sink turns red and then pink, but traces of blood stubbornly stay behind. A bar of soap rests on the edge of the porcelain sink. Lather squishes between my fingers—twisting and turning, scrubbing and rinsing. My skin turns raw from the rubbing, and when the water has lost all its warmth, I turn the faucet off.
Hard to find specks of blood cling to my flesh, but I still see them and feel them.
Will they ever wipe clean? I don’t think so.
A silent scream builds deep within me, which so desperately wants to be released it practically hurts, but no sound slips past my lips. I’m too tired to scream.
A square mirror hangs over the sink, but it’s an enemy. I don’t want to see who I’ve become, so my gaze stays fixed down toward the sink. Unfortunately, the blood-smeared faucet is shiny, stainless, and reflects back an image of myself anyway. I glare deep into my eyes, leaning close to the faucet to study them. They look familiar, but as I pierce them more deeply, a hollowness appears that has never been there before. It scares me.
