About the Book
Title: Spirit
Vision 3: The Power of Mortals
Author: Morgan
Straughan Comnick
Genre: Paranormal
Romance
"You
are the beacon of the Lord’s two worlds, but how can you protect them when you
have lost your shining light?
When Stary Moon, the Spirit Warrior, awakes on the lunchroom floor of her school, battered and bloodied, she cannot recollect how she came to such a state.
Stary ignores the concerns of her best friends, Chloe, Rin, and Lauren, and continues to go on with her life, but no matter how normal her days and Spirit Warrior duties are, she feels a lingering sorrow like someone is missing from her life. Her friends discover some shocking truths about Stary and realize they’re the only ones who remembers Umbra—Stary’s boyfriend who has mysteriously gone missing. Stary’s universe crashes around her and the fate of the world rests on her shoulders.
Her objective is clear, but when she leaves
on this mission, there is no turning back, and she will lose one of her
worlds—the mortal world of her family and friends, or the spiritual world of
her duty and missing someone, for good. Still, Stary has a point to prove to
this dark presence that is threatening to consume the planet: there is power
from those one least expects, and Stary is prepared to risk everything on this
claim."
Author Bio
Educator of young minds
by day, super nerdy savior of justice and cute things by night, Morgan
Straughan Comnick has a love for turning the normal into something special
without losing its essence. Morgan draws from real life experiences and her
ongoing imagination to spark her writing. In her spare time, she enjoys doing
goofy voices, traveling to new worlds by turning pages, humming child-like
songs, and forcing people to smile with her "bubbliness." It is
Morgan's mission in life to spread the amazement of otaku/Japanese culture to
the world and to stop bullying; she knows everyone shines brightly.
To learn more visit at
the following:
Facebook:
bit.ly/MorganSComnick
Twitter:
@MorganSComnick
Youtube Channel:
Sakurastar07
Book Excerpts
#1.
I
felt like I needed reassurance.
I clicked the volume up on our
remote controlled door ringer so I could hear customers if they came in.
I ventured to the back of the massive building, the walls slowly going
from drywall to brick and then hard concrete. It was like I was stepping
through time, the walls welcoming me to the past and yearning to tell me of
their adventures as observers. When I made it to the back room, the vintage
room, I was surrounded with colorful garments from the 1940’s to 1980’s,
organized on racks by categories with my mom’s bright and adorable handmade
signs. This popular section was my mom’s pride and joy, showing off the eras
that helped raise her and inspire her loving, creative soul. Shoppers
found it charming, a rare, hidden gem, and they would get authentic, period pieces
for costume parties.
There was, however, one other reason
this room was a sweet retreat and bitter entrapment.
That is why I was here at this
moment.
Sure enough, I was not disappointed
at the insanity they saw. I saw the flash of fabric at the corner of my vision
despite the fact I had been staring at the floor to mentally brace myself. At
turtle speed, I lifted my head at the entryway to this part of the puzzle
pieced together store that was my mom’s. There, I witnessed three dresses
flying in a whirlwind circle that made me dizzy. A red and white checkered
hoedown dress was ripped off the display wall from a sudden gale, swirling into
the crazy above me, its poor, lacey underskirt frills flapping embarrassingly.
A green 80’s dress and blue bellbottoms joined the fray, this
rainbow trapped in a spin cycle making my stomach clench.
Wait for the wig…
On cue, a rubber, black wig dolled
up in a classy fashion was tossed into the air, the calling card for my so
called troublemaker, one whose mischief needed to be managed.
“Hello Natasha.”
The wig stopped its trampoline
routine, hovering three feet over from the robin-egg hued carpet. The
other wigs in the costume props bin vibrated, their metal clinking like the
rattling of bones. I heard something that sounded like an irritated grunt
and a pouting whine, one that signaled me to continue.
I plastered my calm, nurturing smile
on my face, my voice becoming breathy, patient teacher mode kicking in, “Hi
Natasha, I hope you’re doing good today.” I pointed upward, grinning at
the parade of dresses soaring through the air. “I’m impressed with the
show you did. I know it's lonely today, but in case we get any customers, we
don’t want the clothes to get ruined. Do you think you could put them down for
me, please Natasha?”
There was a pause, the air heavy
with her thoughts and the ectoplasma energy she was producing. A few long
seconds rolled by, neither one of us backing down.
#2.
As
the inky, shadowy mirror to other places vanished into smoke, a rumbling was
heard off where the lightning bolt had landed a moment earlier. The remaining
stones that were not carried off by the harsh storm winds were now jumping,
hopping up three feet as if they were on fire. The earth shook,
triggering an end to Rin’s shield as her cards lost their vibes, their
vividness, and let out an ear shattering whistle. The barrier of red shattered
in its pitch-like shards of blooded glass. Rin fell forward straight as a
board, Lauren catching her waist from behind. Chloe tapped Rin’s cheeks to get
her out of her groggy state.
I
called to my comrades, but I was only able to take one set of running steps
before the ground cracked and began to fault under me. The vibrating pulses
coming from the lightning bolt’s strike making it hard to think, to move, to
not hurl. It was like being trapped in an isolation room with the bass in your
ears and someone behind-the-scenes was in control of your destiny, cranking up
the bass to the highest level. I was shocked my head had not exploded,
gory images from one of her game club buddies’ favorites, Mortal Kombat,
wedging repulsion into me. I shook at the graphics I was placing in the curves
of my mind!
The
shaking ceased slowly and the rumbling became a low murmur, but it was still
hard to focus. I perked my ears, sensing too many vibes at once, so many that
it was making my eyeballs try to go into the back of my head like a freaky
horror film. It was then I realized that the mumbles were not from an
aftershock quake, but were actual voices blending into a zombie choir of
incoherence, but it still sent a shiver of fear down my spine. From the
smoke and the raining of ashes from the gaping crisp hole of the lightning
landing, looking similar to the portal Queen Grave had appeared from at school
a few days prior, emerged a stampede of creatures. It was an army spotting
flickering black and purple strobe light auras, dozens upon dozens of them with
determined, vile faces and blank pupils, scarves of wet ivy tangled around
them…
As I tried to
control my bladder, a realization dawned: now I know how Simba felt.
These
must be Queen Grave’s troop
that Rico and Maybelle warned me about. And their eyes are hollow
white…Possession! She’s controlling these restless ghosts and confused spirits
with her vines and magic. That explains the unstable black and red aura of evil
and loss of control. I deduced, although, right now, keep all of us
alive was my biggest worry.
Possessed
ghost zombies. Wow, that was actually a new one.
#3:
He began wringing his hands together in intense, rapid
motions, his long fingers twisting into themselves. “Oh, angels are not
supposed to tell mortals about the life they had before they were angels, if
they were granted angelhood. It is in Angelic to Earthly law, stanza 440-72…”
Heather patted Jacob’s hands tenderly, her now
cerulean-toned fingernails sparkling blindingly in the spotlight we were
granted from the canopy. Slowly, his eyes drowning with deep emotion seemed to
mute their dark brown tone. She gave him a gentle, closed smile, a motherly
look of understanding. A desire to help twinkled in her pupil. “You’re
anxious. You’re wringing your hands again. No need to be. I know you’re a rule
follower Jacob, but Stary is the Spirit Warrior. She wasn’t supposed to tell
anyone her secret and yet, these mortals were meant to know. I think it’s so
nice that she wants to know about our story. Usually, we are the helpers.
For once, let’s allow someone to care for us.”
Jacob nodded slowly, a solemn pinch in his cheeks, but
an accepting grin was creeping up on him as he addressed us. “Heather, you’re
such a troublemaker, but I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you with
me.” His beam exploded then, twinkling like a heavenly body as he gave her a
friendly, beyond-words glance.
Heather cupped her hand over her lip-glossed sparkled
mouth, going into a fury fit of giggles that made her face rose-hued, her
freckles almost hopping off her cheeks from excitement for getting praised by
her partner. “I know I’m a troublemaker, but hey! I’m cute and everyone loves
me!”
With this, we all joined her chorus in with laughs all
our own, making a harmony, a connection, between the world of the living, the
world touched by the light of Heaven. Chloe was complimenting Heather on her
glittery, ever changing nail-polish, the two exchanging tips- I would have to
ask them later how angels even wore make-up later- as we settled down,
munching on our meal again. Our group was preparing ourselves for a storytime
that would soar into our hearts like wings forever.
Jacob
had agreed to tell most of the story and Heather would add in details if need
be. Stroking his sixth dragon ball patch on his pants pocket, Jacob began,
sweeping us up into his world. “Just to clarify before we begin: Heather and I
were, once mortals like you, normal teenagers before fate took our life away.”
He swallowed silently, but the pressure it put on him was easy to detect. Even
Heather lowered her head, a forlorn expression passing over her face, but it
vanished quickly, like the waves crashing gently against the shoreline before
being pulled back with the tides. Jacob went on, deciding with a stronger voice
that it wasn’t necessary for us to share in their sadness.
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