Blood Curse (DarkWorld: A Soul Tracker Novel Book 3) Page 25
"But why? How is this happening? You are Immortal. Centuries old!" Evie shook her head in disbelief, quivering with impotent rage. "This shouldn't be happening."
Patrick leaned forward and laid a hand to her cheek. "But it is happening. And I don't know how to stop it." Patrick regarded Evie with helpless eyes, his soft palm with its papery-thin skin cupping her face.
"Can't we find someone? Isn't there anyone who can help?" She grabbed his hand, careful to not hurt him.
"My dear child, if there were someone who could help me, they would have done so by now." He sighed, the ragged sound so tired and defeated, so soft Evie wondered if she'd imagined it. "Perhaps the Archangels could have helped. But I sealed my fate a thousand years ago."
Then he smiled at Evie. A paternal and loving smile that brought tears to her grieving heart. She would not allow herself to cry in front of him. This whole situation was impossible and unacceptable.
The sun had traveled west on its journey, and Patrick no longer sat basking in its warmth. His face, so recently golden in the warmth of the sunshine, was now pallid and worn.
"Come, child. Help an old man to his bed." Patrick held out his hand and Evie assisted the frail, almost skeletal man across the floor. The sunshine had warmed the wood and she could almost feel the heat rise up as she crossed the stream of rays. She performed a task which the old man had done for her countless times in the years of her childhood. She couldn't bear the thought that soon she would no longer have him around to comfort and advise her.
Coming to see him had just reminded her how close she was to losing him forever.
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I have been a writer from the time I was old enough to recognize that reading was a doorway into my imagination. Poetry was my first foray into the art of the written word. Books were my best friends, my escape, my haven. I am essentially a recluse but this part of my personality is impossible to practice given I have two teenage daughters, who are actually my friends, my tea-makers, my confidantes. . . I am blessed with a husband who has left me for golf. It’s a fair trade as I have left him for writing. We are both passionate supporters of each other's loves—it works wonderfully. . .
My heart is currently broken in two. One half resides in South Africa where my old roots still remain, and my heart still longs for the endless beaches and the smell of moist soil after a summer downpour. My love for Ma Afrika will never fade. The other half of me has been transplanted to the Land of the Long White Cloud. The land of the Taniwha, beautiful Maraes, and volcanoes. The land of green, pure beauty that truly inspires. And because I am so torn between these two lands—I shall forever remain cross-eyed.
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BLOOD CURSE
A SOULTRACKER NOVEL BOOK 3
Copyright © 2017 by T.G. Ayer
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Eduardo Priego
Cover art © T.G. Ayer. All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.