Title: Risen
Author: Christine James
Witness the Beginning...
A fun night in a small town carnival will change Erin’s
life forever with a simple visit to a bizarre and mysterious fortune teller.
Scared to death by what the haggard woman reveals, Erin quickly flees and quite literally collides with Angelo, a mysterious and captivating
carnival worker. Later that night, he appears in her dreams but he’s not the only one visiting her
slumber. Evil is lurking on the edge of the shadows and it's coming for her. Angelo is not what
he seems, but then again no one ever is. Not even Erin.
Loyalties are tested and the lines of friendship begin to blur as long hidden truths come to light and fate bears down upon them all. Everyone has secrets but when some turn out to be more than heart wrenching, Erin has to decide who she can trust.
Loyalties are tested and the lines of friendship begin to blur as long hidden truths come to light and fate bears down upon them all. Everyone has secrets but when some turn out to be more than heart wrenching, Erin has to decide who she can trust.
Can Erin deal with the
harsh past that Angelo has been harboring or will it prevent her from doing
what she's been chosen to do?
Erin could see him standing across the street, looking dashing in a tuxedo and a broad smile. He held out his hand, beckoning her. She stepped down off the curb but something caught her eye. Looking down, she saw she was wearing a beautiful red satin gown that shimmered beautifully in the pale street light. The strapless bodice fit snugly, pushing up her ample chest, while the bottom fanned out gracefully in waves. On her feet was a pair of matching red heels with thin straps and sparkling rhinestones. Never before had she felt so beautiful.
She went into his arms with ease and he swept her along the street, dancing and twirling around to softly lilting music. He held her close, her body fitting to his easily. She could feel his heart beating steadily against hers. The same smell from earlier seemed so much stronger than before. His eyes were such a light shade of gray, they were almost transparent. Dense fog swirled around their legs as they twirled and moved as one.
Then something changed and they were no longer dancing. She was standing in the middle of the street alone, wearing her pajamas. Somewhere a streetlight began to flicker eerily. The light made the fog appear bluish white and very sinister. Erin looked around, frantically searching for Angelo. She found him standing at the entrance of the fairgrounds. He no longer wore the tux. Even in the darkness she could see his eyes were no longer shimmering silver but dark gray bordering on black. His hair was pulled back tightly and his once beautiful face had turned stone cold and dangerous. He wore a black t-shirt tucked neatly into a pair of black cargo pants. The pants resembled the style that she’d seen paramedics wearing. The bottoms of the pants were tucked tightly into a pair of snugly laced, slightly worn, combat boots. Something glistened in his hand. It appeared to be a long blade that glistened in the dim light. Erin began to slowly back away but he moved toward her. She could see he was saying something but couldn’t make out the words.
When she blinked they were no longer standing in the middle of the street but in the center of a meadow surrounded by trees. The loud sound of beating wings came from somewhere behind her. Briefly she thought of a horror movie where everything was in slow motion. She tried to run but her feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. Slowly she turned. The sound of beating wings stirred the cold night air around her. When she looked up, huge black wings angled toward her.
She tried to scream but the smell of sulfur was suffocating. Angry red eyes glared down at her and pain suddenly sliced through her body. She tried frantically to get away, silently willing her feet to move. She had to get away from the wings and the blinding pain but the pain only intensified with each movement. Erin could smell something foul over the stinging scent of sulfur and she realized it was the unmistakable smell of burning flesh. She looked down and realized it was her flesh that was burning. She screamed as her sweats began to melt to her legs.
“Someone, help me!” she screeched and the answer she received was an angry hiss.
Erin sagged to the ground in pain as the flames raged over her lower body; she could hear the harsh sound of metal clanging against metal. Another shrill hiss and screech sliced through the night and soon the flapping noise was gone. Everything was cast into silence.
She went into his arms with ease and he swept her along the street, dancing and twirling around to softly lilting music. He held her close, her body fitting to his easily. She could feel his heart beating steadily against hers. The same smell from earlier seemed so much stronger than before. His eyes were such a light shade of gray, they were almost transparent. Dense fog swirled around their legs as they twirled and moved as one.
Then something changed and they were no longer dancing. She was standing in the middle of the street alone, wearing her pajamas. Somewhere a streetlight began to flicker eerily. The light made the fog appear bluish white and very sinister. Erin looked around, frantically searching for Angelo. She found him standing at the entrance of the fairgrounds. He no longer wore the tux. Even in the darkness she could see his eyes were no longer shimmering silver but dark gray bordering on black. His hair was pulled back tightly and his once beautiful face had turned stone cold and dangerous. He wore a black t-shirt tucked neatly into a pair of black cargo pants. The pants resembled the style that she’d seen paramedics wearing. The bottoms of the pants were tucked tightly into a pair of snugly laced, slightly worn, combat boots. Something glistened in his hand. It appeared to be a long blade that glistened in the dim light. Erin began to slowly back away but he moved toward her. She could see he was saying something but couldn’t make out the words.
When she blinked they were no longer standing in the middle of the street but in the center of a meadow surrounded by trees. The loud sound of beating wings came from somewhere behind her. Briefly she thought of a horror movie where everything was in slow motion. She tried to run but her feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. Slowly she turned. The sound of beating wings stirred the cold night air around her. When she looked up, huge black wings angled toward her.
She tried to scream but the smell of sulfur was suffocating. Angry red eyes glared down at her and pain suddenly sliced through her body. She tried frantically to get away, silently willing her feet to move. She had to get away from the wings and the blinding pain but the pain only intensified with each movement. Erin could smell something foul over the stinging scent of sulfur and she realized it was the unmistakable smell of burning flesh. She looked down and realized it was her flesh that was burning. She screamed as her sweats began to melt to her legs.
“Someone, help me!” she screeched and the answer she received was an angry hiss.
Erin sagged to the ground in pain as the flames raged over her lower body; she could hear the harsh sound of metal clanging against metal. Another shrill hiss and screech sliced through the night and soon the flapping noise was gone. Everything was cast into silence.
Her husband has been her cheerleader as she strives to achieve her writing goals; he's helped pick her up and dusted her off when she went through rejections; he laughs with her, and more times than not he laughs AT her. But more importantly he's there to lend her a shoulder for her to cry on. He's her rock but more importantly she considers him her best friend. Together they have two beautiful son's ages 8 and 2. She considers them her angels and by becoming an author she wants to show them that their dreams can come true.
The thing Christine loves the most, outside of writing and her family, is making people laugh. People come and go from our lives, influencing and changing us in all kinds of ways. Sometimes the influences are positive, but then again, some are negative. If we use the negative as a tool for learning, we could very well change or even save someone's life down the road. She strives to be the type of person that touches someone’s life in a positive way, even if it is by writing a book. She believes that if only a quarter of the people in the world would loosen up and smile, it would be a better place.
If she could share one message with the world, it would be that nothing is impossible and you should never stop following your dreams.
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