Time for another excerpt!
“Are you okay?” Banning asked.
In a desperate attempt to warm what I could not, I drew my arms up against my chest.
“Sure,” I lied. “Just cold. Maybe I should have brought a jacket.” The chill had little to do with the autumn air and more to do with fear. Fear of this odd state of nothingness—of being dead. Mostly, though, I was afraid of never seeing my parents again or accidentally hurting them if I did.
I wanted to tell someone how I felt. Needed to. But who? There wasn’t anyone I loved who could hear or see me. No one to hold me close and tell me that everything would work out. Not my mother whose smile had always reassured me. Not my father who had a way of making me see reason with his carefully constructed words of encouragement. And not my sister whose mere presence always soothed and comforted me. All I had was a demon and a reaper, the epitome of all things cold and dead.
Somehow, I had to get through this.
Read more of Don’t Fear the Reaper or check out my other books at these retailers: