Blaze Monroe and the Shattered Heart: A Supernatural Thriller (The Hunter Who Lost His Way Book 2)

by Alex Villavasso

  And maybe…just maybe, he can help me somehow find another way.

  The End

  Blaze Monroe and the Tattered Heart

  Available Now

  Blaze Monroe and the Tattered Heart

  The bracelet. The book. It’s all I think about. Can I really bring her back? Should I bring her back? Sailor Ray was the woman I loved, and she died fighting for what she believed in. And I can change that, for a cost.

  I have the grimoire, but that isn’t enough. Darius, the vampire who I stole it from, has a bracelet. The bracelet of Trascair… When worn, from what I understand, it’s like a key that unlocks the spells within the tome. He’s old. Ancient. And he might have the answers I need in order to bring back Sailor and everyone else I’ve lost along the way.

  But one question remains.

  Is it worth it?

  And if it is. How far am I willing to go? Meddling with the dark arts doesn’t end well, but I’m getting desperate.

  I have to find a way.

  ~

  “Game’s over, Eugenie.” The sound of my gun firing ignites my eardrums and Eugenie falls to the floor, grabbing his leg on the way down. He extends his free hand forward and a wave of invisible energy throws me against the wall. It hurts, but not nearly as much as it could have. It’s a side effect of my bullets; custom made for the occasion.

  They neutralize magic as long as they’re imbedded in the target’s flesh.

  The tougher witches can temporarily shrug it off, but not for long. What I got hit by was the equivalent of a final putt of gas from a motor running on fumes…I think.

  “Hunter!”

  Eugenie juts his hand forward in a fit of pained rage and I feel a sudden force against my chest. The force bends me back, but it’s barely enough to make me budge. He looks at his hand and then at me as I sit up from the ground, ignoring the dull ache from my bones smashing against one of the walls of the witch’s hideout.

  “Don’t,” I command, my gun trained on him. Eugenie was halfway to his pocket before I stopped him. Who knew what tricks he’d have in store? A gun…or more of that powder stuff. If he’d hit me with that, it’d be bad news. I’m not sure if I’d be able to shake it before he dug the bullet from out of his flesh, because he sure as hell would be desperate enough to do it if it meant he’d walk out of this alive. “You reach into your pocket, you die…now raise your hands up and put them behind your head.” Eugenie complies and I inch closer. “Now lay on your stomach.”

  “But, my leg,” he groans.

  “I don’t care. Make it happen,” I respond through clenched teeth. Eugenie takes his time rolling over, but his theatrics don’t distract me.

  Eugenie is an older man. White. Mid-fifties, if I had to guess, with unimposing features. He’s slightly overweight and balding. Zero muscle mass and not the least bit athletic. He almost looks like your friendly next-door neighbor who you see watering their garden on occasion. You know, something benign. Unfortunately, that’s not the case and one of the reasons he’s deadly. No one expects him to show what he truly is.

  A monster.

  A few moments of agony is just what he deserves.

  After he’s in position, I finish my approach, circling him to approach the downed witch from behind so he can’t reach at me. “What are you doing?”

  “Shut up,” I respond as I move out of his line of sight. He tries to turn his head slightly, but he knows better. By now, I’m sure he gets that I’m in control. I do a quick pat down, running my free hand over his pants and pockets while I point the gun at the back of his head. He’s clean except for what’s in the front—the reason I’m over here in the first place.

  Like I said before, that powder is no joke.

  It’s a medium for the magic he’s been using. It’s powerful stuff that when used in tandem with his own spell allows for mind control.

  After I’m done frisking him, I pistol whip him over the back of his head, knocking him out, cold.

  From there, I tie him up and prop him onto a nearby chair within his lair.

  At long last, I finally found him.

  Blaze Monroe and the Tattered Heart

  A Note to the Reader

  I want to take the time to thank you for reading my story. I’m an independent author so having my work read by even one person is a step forward in chasing my dream.

  That being said, if you enjoyed this story, it would mean the world to me if you could leave a review for this title. The process will take less than a minute. All you have to do is click the link below and write a sentence or two expressing your thoughts. Hopefully, your words can inspire others to take a chance on my work.

  Thank you very much.

  About the Author

  Alex Villavasso was born and raised in Louisiana where he first found his love for fiction while reading through the summer months. When he is not working on getting his thoughts out of his head, Alex can be found doing things that everyone tends to do, like sleeping, catching up with friends, and spending copious amounts of time on Netflix.

  Alex hangs out at AlexVillavasso.com. You can connect with him on Facebook at Facebook.com/AlexVillavasso and on Twitter at @AlexVillavasso. Alex can also be reached at AlexVillavasso@gmail.com if you prefer to contact him through email.

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  Thanks for reading!

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