From Dusk (Tragic Nights Trilogy #1)

Prologue

Emory

"Even in the darkest depths, hope can be the hand that pulls us to the surface."

Dark, cold, weightless... lost in a stygian ethereal realm.

I feel my arms floating, a tugboat trudging into an equanimous sea.

My chest is burning as metaphorical flames are caning my lungs, and numbing silence entrances me.

Strands of my sandy blonde hair dance with the flow of the water.

Like a blanket, it surrounds me, begging me to surrender to its cold embrace.

I pull at my seatbelt one last time, my vigor dampened by prior efforts.

Hoping it gives, praying I will be able to swim to safety.

.. to no avail. I look around one last time before my chest begins to heave.

It tightens as the air escapes, and water fills my respiratory system.

My eyes get heavy as all the energy drains like a pinhole in a balloon.

Suddenly, I feel pressure around my waist, prying me from what was meant to be my watery grave.

I hear the sloshing of the water partitioning, yielding beneath my savior's shoes. The snow sinks as it welcomes the weight of my body. Sirens, like banshees, blare. Evelyn’s tear-stricken screams gradually amplify as she draws nearer, calling my name, howling like a lone wolf baying at the moon.

Another voice drowns hers out... softer.

.. closer. "Emory," it whispers my name—dripping with concern and laced with a hint of anger, cloaking his fear in a false sense of calm.

"Emory," the velvety notes float on the soft winter breeze.

For a moment, everything else is quiet. A safe feeling washes over me.

He speaks again, "Close your eyes, Dove,” like lyrics to a song I never knew I needed.

I zero in on the word ‘Dove,’ or did he say ‘love’?

A diluted English accent and a concussion make it difficult to decipher.

I drift to sleep listening as he begins to sing, and for a moment, I am warm in the arms of a stranger—a stranger who saved me.