A raspy howl passes through his lips. He reaches out and grabs a handful of my shirt, tugging me forward while his helmeted forehead rockets toward mine. Our skulls collide. A supernova of sharp, torturous pain snakes from the point of impact, branching until every nerve in my face shrieks at once. Darkness flickers before my eyes, teasing at my periphery and making the midday sunlight all the more blinding. My sword falls from my hands. I’m no longer able to hold it. The tenuous grip I held on it, on everything, begins to slip through my fingers like grains of sand.
In the distance, I hear Sully shout my name. “Avery!” it echoes all around me. At first his voice is an intangible apparition, distant and ephemeral. But when he shouts my name again, it is a beacon in a swirling ocean of black. I’m vaguely aware of The General still clutching my arm. I blink and am able to discern the dagger still in his chest. I grab hold of it and twist with the remaining strength I possess. He screams and releases me. I drop to one wobbly knee and scoop up my sword. Then I twist my blade to one side and slice the air horizontally.
The razor-sharp edge of my sword meets with his neck. There is a brief pull, resistance right before muscle and bone yield, and his head tumbles from his shoulders and rolls to the ground below.
My breaths are short and shallow and my entire body trembles. I sway several times, and then try to steady myself. With no Urthmen in the immediate vicinity, my eyes search for Sully. I see him fighting alongside Will and Oliver. They finish off a small group. They, like the people of New Washington, are fighting ferociously, taking out the last few Urthmen that remain standing. One surges toward me. I catch a glimpse of him in my periphery. When his blade is hefted overhead I drive my blade through his heart and he collapses to the ground. And when he does, I see Jericho’s fallen body among the dead Urthmen. I’m struck by a shooting pain of sadness so profound I grip my chest. He saved me in the arena, tried to save me again not long ago, and I was unable to return the favor. I led him to his death on the battlefield.
Tears of shame burn the backs of my eyelids; I’m barely able to see Sully, Will and Oliver when they make their way toward me. Sniffing and wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I straighten my posture.
“We got them all,” Sully says with a fierce expression born of pure adrenaline. “We did it.”
Though our losses were great, the hand that grips my sword shoots up into the air and a primal sound echoes from the cavernous hollows of my being. A rolling eruption of cheers answers my call. The name “Azlyn” rises above the roar until it is chanted in unison.
I look to Sully and he nods. “That’s who you are now! You’re Azlyn!” he shouts above the noise.
Goosebumps trail a fiery path across my skin. I cast my eyes to the heavens and see the sun fading below a lavender and salmon sky. Shafts of pure gold stretch in buttery breadths, and for the first time since hearing the name, I consider the possibility that I am Azyln; that I am the character the people of New Washington believe me to be. Perhaps the story they’d heard was prophetic. Perhaps the tales Mary told of a divine being who reigns over all that the sun touches is true, and perhaps He has instilled in me a gift to restore sovereignty to the human race. Perhaps.
No matter how this phenomenon came to pass, that we bested the Urthmen, I am grateful nonetheless. Excitement I’ve never experienced swells within me until it threatens to overflow. We have not won anything yet. This was but a single battle. My excitement stems from the knowledge that today, on this desert battleground, humanity has waged a campaign for freedom. The war for earth has begun.
About the Authors
Jennifer and Christopher Martucci hoped that their life plan had changed radically in early 2010. To date, the jury is still out. But late one night, in January of 2010, the stay-at-home mom of three girls under the age of six had just picked up the last doll from the playroom floor and placed it in a bin when her husband startled her by declaring, “We should write a book, together!” Wearied from a day of shuttling the children to and from school, preschool and Daisy Scouts, laundry, cooking and cleaning, Jennifer simply stared blankly at her husband of fifteen years. After all, the idea of writing a book had been an individual dream each of them had possessed for much of their young adult lives. Both had written separately in their teens and early twenties, but without much success. They would write a dozen chapters here and there only to find that either the plot would fall apart, or characters would lose their zest, or the story would just fall flat. Christopher had always preferred penning science-fiction stories filled with monsters and diabolical villains, while Jennifer had favored venting personal experiences or writing about romance. Inevitably though, frustration and day-to-day life had placed writing on the back burner and for several years, each had pursued alternate (paying) careers. But the dream had never died. And Christopher suggested that their dream ought to be removed from the back burner for further examination. When he proposed that they author a book together on that cold January night, Jennifer was hesitant to reject the idea outright. His proposal sparked a discussion, and the discussion lasted deep into the night. By morning, the idea for the Dark Creations series was born.
The Dark Creations series, as well as the Arianna Rose series and the Planet Urth series, are works that were written while Jennifer and Christopher continued about with their daily activities and raised their young children. They changed diapers, potty trained and went to story time at the local library between chapter outlines and served as room parents while fleshing out each section. Life simply continued.
As the storyline continues to evolve, so too does the Martucci collaboration. Lunches are still packed, noses are still wiped and time remains a rare and precious commodity in their household, but it is the sound of happy chaos that is the true background music of their writing. They hope that all enjoy reading their work as much as they enjoyed writing it.
Books by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci:
The Dark Creations Series (A YA paranormal romance series)
Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 1)
Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 2)
Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 1&2)
Dark Creations: Resurrection (Part 3)
Dark Creations: The Hunted (Part 4)
Dark Creations: Hell on Earth (Part 5)
Dark Creations: Dark Ending (Part 6)
Coming Soon:
Planet Urth: The Rise of Azlyn (Book 4)
The Arianna Rose Series (A paranormal romance series)
Arianna Rose (Part 1)
Arianna Rose: The Awakening (Part 2)
Arianna’s Awakening (Part 1 & 2)
Arianna Rose: The Gathering (Part 3)
Arianna Rose: The Arrival (Part 4)
Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5)
The Planet Urth series (A YA science-fiction/futuristic series)
Planet Urth: (Book 1)
Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2)
Planet Urth: The Underground City (Book 3)
Thank You So Much For Reading Our Book!
We deeply appreciate your readership and would love to hear from you!
For information about upcoming releases (or just to say hi!) please visit our website at http://darkcreationssaga.com or at http://on.fb.me/1dlUUF5 To sign up for our mailing list and receive information about upcoming release and special promos, please visit http://eepurl.com/Jp7yz
Thank you again for reading!
Love,
Jennifer and Christopher Martucci
Oh, One Last Thing Before You Go…
When you turn the page, you may be given the opportunity to express your thoughts on Facebook and Twitter automatically. If you enjoyed our book, please take a second to click that button and let your friends know about it.
If they get something out of the book, they’ll be grateful to you, and we will be, too!
Thank you so much!
Love,
Jenny and Chris
Jennifer, The Underground City (Book 3): Planet Urth, no. 3
The Underground City (Book 3): Planet Urth, no. 3 Page 25