Rating: 3.5 out of 5
The Angelites is an enjoyable YA paranormal read. While it took me some time to warm up to the story, a few chapters in I was engaged and began to enjoy the characters and plot development.
The author, Richard Morgan, successfully created and established a cast of characters, who were intricate and detailed. A descriptive writer, he allows us to truly visualise the characters, the setting and the action. Admittedly, there were times that the attention to detail was a little too much; I would have liked to get on with the plot development; however, every description included was well-crafted and written.
A fascinating read with an intricately weaved story.
The author, Richard Morgan, successfully created and established a cast of characters, who were intricate and detailed. A descriptive writer, he allows us to truly visualise the characters, the setting and the action. Admittedly, there were times that the attention to detail was a little too much; I would have liked to get on with the plot development; however, every description included was well-crafted and written.
A fascinating read with an intricately weaved story.
The Angelites, By Richard Moran
Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy
Pages: 195
Self Published
I was the born in the Bronx, N.Y; the youngest of two children. I have a loving and supportive wife who has given me two precious boys. I’m a firm believer of God and prayer and devote my life to him. My biggest joys, besides watching movies and TV dramas, are drawing, making music and writing. I have a wild imagination and it’s helped me come up with some creative works over the years. I started writing about ten years ago and The Angelites was the first story I started. But, so many things had gone in my life that I had to put it back on the shelf several times. Now I finally had momentum on my side and completed the first of two introductory stories to this series. I hope you enjoy it, because if you don’t, then I have plenty of other stories coming your way that I know you’ll fall in love with at least one of them. I’ll just be happy with that.
Twitter: @RMoranTheAuthor
Book Blogs: http://bookblogs.ning.com/profile/RichardMoran
Gina was standing barefoot in the middle of what seemed to be nowhere,
wearing black silk pajamas. Fog covered the darkness like a huge wool blanket.
Towering above her were the tallest of buildings and 6-foot billboards. She
fanned away the fog in an attempt to see what was on the other side.
What she saw was a total contrast to the usual New York City nightlife.
The streets were deserted. Electricity was sucked out from every structure like
there was a citywide blackout. Human activity was nonexistent. She was alone.
What the hell is going on here, she thought.
Resting in her hand was a badge, shining bright in the dense darkness, pure
platinum gold with a custom-made design of wings behind a cross. Gazing at it,
Gina thought it should be on display in a museum.
Suddenly, glowing pulses surrounded the shield and a warm sensation
slipped into her fingertips, expanding throughout her hand. She felt less of
the ground under her feet, as if her veins had been pumped with helium. Her
body began to glow as bright as the badge, and she felt a strong power pump in her
heart. In fear she threw the badge to the floor and the glow had diminished.
This can’t be real, she thought. I must be
dreaming. But the feeling was so real that she truly couldn’t tell. She
looked around the urban wasteland, wondering if she even alive.
Gina picked up the badge and put it in her pajama pocket. Her mind
returned to where she was and how was she getting home; if there was a home to
get back to.
After passing a few dismal blocks, she heard spine-rattling echoes
shriek through her eardrums. Horrid shapes were emerging from the fog bank, and
they rapidly drew closer. Her heart jumped into her throat when she noticed
what they were. Demonic-looking zombies exploded onto the street with an
appetite to kill.
Their blood-colored eyes widened on their disfigured faces. Volumes of
yellow venom bubbled on the sides of their mouths. Slabs of molten matter
decorated their physiques and they were clothed in ripped-up police uniforms.
Frantically, Gina ran through the dark streets, not knowing which
direction was safe. An abandoned building was coming up. She thought it might
be a good place to hide, but it was also perfect for an ambush, as more zombies
rushed out. She ran as fast as she could, but not enough to lose them.
Buildings were locked and manhole covers were sealed tight. No place was safe.
Gina ran around a corner and spotted a church down the middle of the
block. Beams of light were shining from the ceiling windows, and the front
doors were wide open. She ran toward the holy fortress, hoping to find someone
there who could enlighten her as to what was happening.
With the zombies
quickly approaching, she leaped up the stairs like a frog on a hotplate, and
then barricaded the front doors with pews. The loud pounding against the wood
crept under her skin.
Strands of her auburn
hair were stuck to the sides of her sweaty face. Uneasy and exhausted, Gina
looked around, astonished at the size of the church. It was like an ancient
Greek cathedral, with stained-glass windows and enormous statues that stood
against the walls.
She collapsed on a bench and took a few deep breaths, trying to get a
hold of herself. Where did those things come from? Why were they after her? Was
she in purgatory?
“This must be a dream,” she said. “Please, let this be a dream.”
Then she heard panting nearby, as if someone else was in the church with
her. “Who’s there?” she shouted, but nobody answered. She realized then that
someone had to have let her in, the church had been practically begging her to
come in with its welcoming bright lights.
The panting grew louder, and she looked out a window and saw a woman
standing under a spotlight, holding a large wooden staff. There wasn’t a drop
of rain in the sky, but her long brown hair and navy blue sleep shirt were
soaked. She was swinging the staff wildly around her, with full force.
“Hey!” yelled Gina.
“Over here! Come inside! Do you hear me?”
Gina pounded on the glass to get her attention, but she couldn’t hear
anything except terrifying snarls, which must have been coming from the
zombies. The woman hopelessly looked up at the sky, and as she did Gina
recognized the face under the thin-rimmed glasses.
“Alex!” Gina yelled,
banging on the glass. “Get the hell out of there! It’s me, Gina! Do you hear
me?”
Desperately, Gina looked
around the church for something to break the window. On the altar she found
large candleholders, and she lifted one onto her shoulder like a javelin and
swung it into the glass. But the window was undamaged. Repeatedly, she swung
the rod with the same result. From the other windows came more cries for help
from behind the colored glass. Some were scared to death and running for their
lives, some were hiding in cocoons of despair. Was she looking into the future?
“I can’t save them!”
Gina said helplessly.
The pounding against
the doors grew louder and heavier. Pieces of wood were starting to shatter,
bloodcurdling screams from the hungry zombies sneaking through the cracks. Gina
felt fear swell through her body like heat. Her mind was breaking down; she was
running out of ideas.
Splinters and woodchips
rained inside of the church, and as the doors shredded away into nothing, the
howls became clearer. Zombies ransacked one another to get inside. Gina’s heart
pounded faster, drowning in a flood of emotions. Stress raced in her veins like
a bad drug.
She found herself staring at dozens of glowing red eyes. Their hideous
faces were coming closer. She was reaching the breaking point. From inside her
pocket, the badge started to throb. Not knowing what else to do, feeling like
all hope was lost, she released everything in her with the loudest scream she
could muster. The volume of her voice multiplied through the church, sounding
like the cry of a wailing banshee.
As the sound waves rumbled through the deserted metropolis like an
earthquake, the zombies began to shatter. Bones exploded and crumbled into
piles of dust. Buildings came crashing down like a demolition project. Clouds
of debris blanketed the city. Updrafts had shot out from beneath Gina’s feet with
enough strength to make the church walls shake. Stained glass showered down
like candy from a piñata. Dead remains were violently blown through the air,
winds gushing through the roof like a geyser and out into the twilight. Gina
looked up and saw the moon shimmering like a giant searchlight. The
regurgitated screams faded away as the last of the clerestory fell down around
her.
Gray ashes flew through like leaves in the fall. She couldn’t believe
what she had done. This church, once so beautiful, was now in ruins. Tears
flowed down from her brown eyes, and as she was relieved that the chaos had
ceased, she whispered, “Thank you.”
The victory was short-lived, however, as vociferous thunder roared from
the heavens. The black sky morphed into a firmament of flaming red with
lightning striking across. Hideous flying creatures, with wings of a vulture
and red fur covering their scaly skin, swarmed over the wrecked church. They
could smell the terror pouring from her flesh. Black nails stuck out of their
tree-twig fingers.
Gina was ready to make a run for it when sandy hands arose from the
dusty remains and clutched onto her ankles. The harder she tried to break free,
the more hands latched onto her. She looked up and saw the razor-tipped nails
coming moments away from shredding into her face. Before she tasted their pain,
she woke to a fight with her blankets, screaming in absolute terror.
Her nerves took some time to settle before she realized she was in the
confines of her bedroom. The alarm clock on the night table read 1:11 a.m. It
was pin-drop quiet outside in the suburban streets of Eagle Nest, New Mexico,
where she’d been living for the past four years.
She sat on the edge of
the bed and flicked on the nightlight, wiping sweat from her hairline as clips of
the terrible dream played in her head like a horror movie. She pulled out her
wallet and examined her Silver Star badge. Eagle Nest Town Sheriff was
engraved in the middle. It looked nothing like the one she had in her dream.
What just happened? she thought. What made her have such a horrible
dream all of a sudden? She took a few hours and a bottle of vodka trying to
figure it out.
It was now 7:25 a.m.
and peeking sunrays pulled open Gina’s reluctant eyelids. She had thirty-five
minutes to get to work. Luckily, the station wasn’t too long of a drive. Deputy
Silverblaze had left three messages on her cell phone, which was set to silent.
Rolling out of her bed and knocking over the empty bottle, Gina wasn’t
sure who she was anymore. Looking in the mirror, she saw what she’d seen every
day for years since being released from jail: guilt. Every day she wished that
night had never happened. Leaving New York made it easier to deal with the
past, but it hadn’t made her forget.
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Books> Sci-Fi & Fantasy> Fantasy> Paranormal> Richard Moran
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