Darria tries to take a long deserved break from undertaking, but nothing ever goes as planned. She’s just about had it with her handsy assistant, Omar. He still thinks his mummified fingers will rock her world. Corpses are rising from their ashes and trying to kill her. Not to mention her love life is in shambles.
With everything heading six feet under, she’s tasked with the impossible: finding the undertakers slotted to fill the empty places of their murdered predecessors and bringing them to safety. Some unknown evil is hunting them down and she’s also on the list. If she doesn’t find out what this evil is, the universe will unravel and chaos will reign. However, no one is what they seem. Fate brings Darria to her knees, and she must choose what she’ll sacrifice. Her life or her love.
EXCERPT
“You remember what you did?”
“Yes. Why do I feel like shit?”
“Because you let the power use you. How you feel is a consequence. It’s so seductive, almost orgasmic, that the small voice inside of your head urges you to grasp the power. It’s great at first, but then the high ends. I know. I’ve been there. You can’t give in to it.”
“I’ve been fighting it. I’ve tried. I don’t know how to control it.” Darria looked over at Oliver, but he remained the cold harvester and not the man who cared for her.
“But you fight it, and that’s the point. You keep it caged. You and your power have to become one with each other. You have to embrace it,” Marie told her.
“I thought you said that embracing it only makes me into the monster.” Darria tried to wrap her head around what Marie was telling her.
“Sometimes, to beat the monster, you have to let it in. Right now, different parts of you are vying for dominance: the you who is the undertaker, and the you who is the necromancer. Take control of all your abilities. You have much more potential than you realize.” Marie grabbed Darria’s arm and showed her the closed poppies. “Once you do that, these will fully open, and you can channel their magic.”
Darria looked at the four unopened blossoms. Undertakers performed magic from time to time, but she didn’t know what else they did regarding the mystical. Even the memories she had of the other undertakers didn’t answer her questions about necromancy. The further back she looked, the fuzzier the recollections. She could only go back to a certain point before she hit a wall.
“You should listen to Marie,” Oliver chimed in.
Darria nodded. “I know, but where do I begin?”
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Crymsyn Hart - Paranormal and Horror Author 