So in the spirit of a Hobbit, today being my birthday I’m giving the gift of a Sample Chapter to everyone who’s been asking me for book 5.  And I know, it’s taking forever.  2014 was a tough year for me and my family.  I had disappointing test results come back from a doctor’s appointment which led to two surgeries, my house was robbed, and a host of other small incidents which set my writing back to the point I wasn’t sure when I was going to pick it back up.  Luckily by the end of the year, things took an up-turn.  My books are selling great, things are put back in order, house is secure, and health issues are being managed.  Which means time to put the focus back on finishing the book.

This series will not mark the end of my writing career, either.  I have two other book series ideas I’m currently fleshing out, and a fun little coffee-table memoir called Single Mom Dating (hilarious stories of my dating discoveries before I met my awesome husband), all currently in the “working” pile.

Today I turn 33, and feel like I’ve accomplished more in these last 3 years than I did in the previous 29.  So without further ado, here’s the first chapter to Rise of Apollo, due out before summer (I swear it!).  Please be warned my editor hasn’t even seen a sneak-preview of my book yet, meaning it hasn’t been touched or re-written.  Any mistakes, adverbs, passive language, and other hideous writing mistakes are all mine and will be as such corrected and penance shall be performed as my editor sees fit.

***

Rise of Apollo

Chapter One

~*~

“Sir?”

Ben kept walking, his fingers wrapped around his paper cup of coffee so tight it was starting to bow. The toe of his shoe caught in a groove of the sidewalk and he stumbled, hissing when the hot liquid spilled onto his hand. He swore, wiping the coffee on the side of his coat and tried to pretend he didn’t see the man following in his periphery.

“Please, it’ll only take a second.”

Ben’s jaw clenched. The apartment was two blocks away. He knew taking a stroll on the University campus was going to be risky. Solicitors, religious tracts, polls, voting registry, donations, frat party flyers. School was just getting started and though it had been many years since Ben was in college, he remembered. His abject hatred of his fellow students and teachers followed him well into adulthood.

He loved his education, but hated getting it.  Pretentious fuckers surrounding him at every turn. Philosophy students analyzing everything he said, psychology students trying to figure him out. Vapid women who were taught by their shitty families that all they needed was to marry a guy on the path to riches, and on the flip side women who were independent and wonderful and already knew they were too good for him.

His single long-term relationship crashed and burned in college. It was not a fun reminder. And this guy following him waving some paper in the side of his eye was really asking for a beating. Ben wasn’t a cop here. There wouldn’t be a scandal. Probably.

Making it the second to last block away from the apartment, he stopped. Turning, he raked his gaze up and down this kid. He was wearing an ill-fitted suit, scuffed shoes, and just under the sleeves Ben could make out faded, ugly prison tattoos on his pale skin. He didn’t need Sherlockian genius to deduce this guy. It was obvious. A few years in prison for a minor felony. Probably drugs, maybe domestic violence. He was terrified in lock-up and aligned himself with the only gang who’d take him, likely white supremacists, who were the first ones to introduce him to the idea of White Jesus. It escalated from there. One of the notorious religious, rehabilitation programs sent someone in to pick off the weak ones. Offer them sanctuary, work, a roof over their heads. All for the small price of your soul.

But eternal happiness in mansions set along streets made of gold just beyond the pearly gates made it all worth it. Made the dealings on the day-to-day, with people growing increasingly agitated by soul solicitors, all worth it.

“I’m not interested.” His voice came out gruff and tired. It wasn’t even this kid who was bothering him. It was the slew of immortals, gods, and a pregnant woman who, allegedly, was carrying his spawn that was setting him on edge. Had he not carried the weight of the world, the literal world, on his shoulders, he probably would have engaged this kid.

“Neither was I.” The voice called out just as he picked up his pace again.

With a sigh, Ben turned. “Look, I know you get points or whatever for every person you can goad into coming to your meeting, but I don’t have the time.”

“There’s always time for the Lord.”

Ben almost laughed. The forever emblazoned image of Yeshua flared to life in his head. The crazed, nearly-dead “messiah” who almost succumbed and lost his life to the psychotic power of the gods. The message twisted and turned and deformed by Mark’s curse, now laying plain on the faded yellow pamphlet this poor guy was touting. If only he knew. “Listen, the Lord and I have an understanding, okay? You take care, now.” Ben started to move, but the guy’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Ben’s eyes narrowed, his glare murderous, and the kid snatched his hand back.

“Look, I’ve been where you are, man.”

Ben almost laughed. “Where I am?”

“Downtrodden. Lost. I can see it all over your face. You might have a good job, money, love, but without God in your life, you’ll never be fulfilled.”

“I have enough god, trust me.” Ben straightened the sleeve of his jacket out of habit and sighed. “I get you, kid. I’m a homicide detective, I’ve seen a hundred yous cross my path in interrogation rooms. Lost, downtrodden, thinking crime’s the only answer. Then the creep with the big eyes and soft voice and a hundred bible stories about how you can save yourself and live happily ever after once you rid yourself of the shitty, satan-corrupted world sells it to you. And you believe him because what else is there to believe, right? Even if there’s never proof, never evidence that the afterlife isn’t just as bad, maybe worse, than this place. If you don’t believe it, what’s the point, right? Why pull yourself up out of the mud.” Ben sighed as the kid’s eyes fixed on his face. “Life your life for you. Enough of this god shit.”

Before he could leave, the kid shoved the paper at him. “There’s where you’re wrong. There is help. There is proof. There’s hope for us all. Even for you.”

Tired of the conversation, Ben crumpled up the tract and shoved it into his pocket. Giving the kid a goodbye nod, Ben backed away, turning on his heel after a few steps and hurried toward the direction of the apartment. He heard the kid shout something, a muffled warning of some kind. Not that it mattered. God or no, unless they could find Apollo and put a stop to him, the world was coming to an end anyway.

The thought almost made him laugh as his hand curled around the front door to the apartment. It was luxury condo of sorts, something Mark picked out. Several bedrooms, the appearance small, but large enough to accommodate them. The gods who came and went, Mark who didn’t seem to have it in him to leave the apartment anymore, the only human, Olivia, and he could barely look her in the eye considering the last time they met.

Feet making a gentle tapping noise on the polished lobby floor, Ben nodded to the door man and made his way toward the elevator. The idea of a door man seemed a little too posh for the sort of hippy-dippy, granola munching energy surrounding Denver, Colorado, but leave it to Mark to find that one place. The one place celebrities rented when they were in town, assuming they weren’t in some chalet in Aspen. No one in the building questioned the inhabitants of apartment 531, but it didn’t mean Ben couldn’t see the looks that passed him in the hall.

They didn’t belong there. Humans—and since when had he stopped referring to himself as a human—could tell there was something different about them. Something off. Ben could feel it in himself, and years ago when he was still in full-blown denial about what the gods really were, he knew. It was different now, though.

Most of the portals were dead, and so were the gods. Just a handful remained. Ben could feel it, like a gaping hole in the center of the universe. Things were off balance and he didn’t need to be part of the grand, supernatural scheme to tell that something big was about to tip the scales completely. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

He was damn tired, and right now his only real hope is that he will manage to take down that festering douchebag of a god before he bids fare-thee-well to his own mortal coil.

Pausing at his door, he looked over to see their only neighbor on this floor coming out of his apartment. He was an older guy, a teacher at the university which was fitting since it was only a few blocks away. He was the sort of tweed-and-glasses type of professor. Probably history by the looks of him. He had that soft, droning kind of voice that put you to sleep. So maybe a professor of Chaucer?

He gave Ben the side-eye, but returned the friendly nod of hello as he passed by. Ben waited until he heard the elevator door ding, then slide shut before he turned the key in his own lock. The door swung open with an almost horror-movie like groan, the hinges probably older than the building itself. The first thing he smelled was coffee, and despite having already picked up a cup from the campus, he craved more.

Someone was also cooking something. Probably Olivia since she was the only one in the apartment who ever remembered to eat. In spite of Mark’s curse on her, she seemed to be doing okay.   She didn’t say much for the most part.  Sometimes she went into trembling fits and began to rock back and forth and mumble, but most days she was completely normal.

Every now and again Mark would stop her scrambling for paper and a pen which Ben knew was a symptom of the curse. If she couldn’t talk about it, she’d transfer the power into the written word. If that got out you’d have another cult on your hands.

“How do you think that ridiculous Book of Mormon was birthed?” Mark snapped a few days prior when Ben asked if Olivia’s desire to write was really that big of a deal.

Ben’s eyebrows shot up. “I figured it was some sort of parody of the Bible? Some raving lunatic who wanted to start a cult and justify why he thought Americans were the chosen people.” Ben meant it as a joke, but Mark’s narrowed eyes shut him up.

“We have enough to deal with trying to shut down the portals and stop Apollo without her running off to start another blood-thirsty Christian faction,” Mark said, throwing the paper with her illegible scribbles into the sink. He splashed a little bit of whatever Hades had been drinking the night before, and dropped a match on it. It fizzled for a second, like it was going to go out, then flames erupted, turning the paper into ash.

Things had been tense for a while. It wasn’t just Olivia’s curse, or Mark’s sudden desire to hide away for the rest of eternity. It wasn’t even so much that the gods, while present, were saying next to nothing. There was something else. Ben could tell they were keeping something from him. At first he thought he was being paranoid, but he’d catch them whispering to each other. And there was something about Olivia. It wasn’t the way Eman stuck to her, Mark had already explained she was keeping the curse in check. It was something else. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Not that it really mattered in the end. Ben figured Olivia was going to die and if that’s what they were worried about well, he’d come to terms with it. They’d fucked. By some supernatural goading, he and Olivia had gotten together and copulated. Both of them seemed to regret it, and it wasn’t his proudest moment, but he wasn’t in love with her. This wasn’t some star-crossed lover’s tale about two people finding each other during the end times.

Ben had long since come to terms with the fact he wasn’t a normal guy. Not in the wife and kids and four bedroom house with a dog sort of normal. And the more he knew about the state of humanity, and the state of the universe along with it, the less he wanted to participate in any of it.

Sauntering into the kitchen, Ben was surprised to see Alex at the stove, frying a couple of eggs. He had a plate with a small pile of fruit and a piece of toast. His Bluetooth was shoved in his ear and he was nodding at the voice on the other line. He caught Ben’s eye and made a gesturing offer to share the eggs.

“No thanks,” Ben said, and reached for a coffee mug. His fingers were trembling from the amount of caffeine he’d already ingested, but he wasn’t sleeping much and he had to function somehow.

Alex tipped his eggs onto his plate and plops down at the table. “No I told you to postpone… No. Goddamn it, are you listening. I don’t care. No I literally do not care. At this point they can convene and have me displaced and I wouldn’t not care. I… I…” He went silent for a full minute while Ben was pouring cream and sugar into his coffee. “Yep. Yeah.”

As Alex ripped the device from his ear, Ben raised an eyebrow at the god. “Bad day at the office?”

“Oh you know, when it rains…”

Ben didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t give two shits if Alex’s company was falling apart, and he had a feeling the god didn’t either. Alex knew he’d be lucky to survive this whole mess. Over the last few weeks, information had been pouring in of gods all over the globe disappearing. And not through portals, either. Apollo was on a genocidal rampage, and it wasn’t just humans this time. His insatiable appetite had now extended to gods.

The rumor was, killing gods was increasing his powers. He was able to consume the gods and take their abilities into himself. Ben had to figure that was the reason he wanted Judas and Mark. They were the final missing piece to that puzzle. The last remaining link to the Old God who gave birth to this festering little planet spinning on its axis.

Joining his friend at the table, Ben cocked one leg up on the chair and sipped the coffee. It was bitter, over brewed, and he contemplated going out again for something worth consuming. “Any news?”

Alex swallowed a mouthful of melon. “About what?”

“Anything? Apollo, gods, portals. We’ve been sitting on our fucking thumbs for two weeks now.”

“Eman’s working on the portal location. Last night she pinned one, but lost it.”

“God damn it.  How the fuck did she lose it?” Rubbing his hand down his face, Ben let out a frustrated groan. He looked down at the coffee, contemplating having another drink, but it wasn’t worth the assault on his taste buds. “Seriously, what’s the point of having an actual portal guardian on our side if she can’t even track the damn things?”

“I think she’s as confused as any of us. The portals weren’t a fixed object, but they were geographically centered. At least, they had been before.” Alex speared a chunk of scrambled egg and chewed, his brows furrowed in thought. “She thinks it might have something to do with Apollo.”

“What, like he can manipulate them now? Because that’s all we goddamn need.”

“Or perhaps the more gods he kills, the less the portals are linked to anything.”

Ben let out a breath and thought that over. It made logical sense, though that wasn’t a comfort. Most of the time logic was right out the damn window when it came to the gods. But if the portals ran off of their power, and their power was either being consumed by a single creature or it was diminishing completely, he supposed that could be why Eman was having trouble.

Or she wasn’t actually trying to help them at all and she was using them to serve up to Apollo on a damn silver platter. At this point, he thought, anything goes.

“She’s going to try and locate the portal within the next few days. Time’s pretty sensitive right now.” Alex took a swig of his coffee and grimaced.

“How many are we down to? Three?”

Alex shrugged one shoulder up then down. “Something like that. I know the ones overseas took their toll on Olivia and that’s troubling. Mark’s pretty sure if we lose her before we’re finished, we won’t have time to build up enough strength in another human to take down the remaining ones.”

Ben sat back. He’d heard that lecture first hand from Mark anyway, so it wasn’t new information. Honestly none of this was. He felt like he’d been going over the same topics with obnoxious repetition. He wanted action, not theory, but everyone seemed to be walking around on eggshells.

Shifting on his chair, Ben felt a lump in his pocket and remembered the religious tract. He yanked it out, smoothed it down on the top of the table, and sighed. “The crazies are ramping up, Olivia’s power is winding down, the gods are all dying, and Mark’s losing faith. Where does that leave us?”

Alex pushed his plate away and let out a satisfied sigh. “Oh who knows. Maybe we’re just sitting around waiting for the second coming.”

Ben snorted and rolled his eyes. “Let’s be realistic here. If Jesus pops down and sees the epic crap being carried out in his name, he’s going to turn tail and let Apollo devour us all.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Alex challenged.

“It’s tempting enough already,” Ben said. He stood up and started to back away from the table, but something caught his eye. The print on the tract, a word to be more specific. Miracle healings. With a frown, he smoothed out more of the wrinkles and bent forward to read the paragraph.

   ‘Life is difficult. There’s war, famine, poverty, death. The horsemen are among us now, in the form of the non believers. But don’t lose faith. The chosen one walks among us now. A gift from God, his only begotten Son, and he has returned. Come now and let us show you what the Lord is capable of. Lay all of your troubles on him, and let him heal you. You don’t have to be a believer, the Lord will make one out of you.’

There was an address, a time for the meetings, and a phone number to pre-register. Spaces were limited, it said. It offered a guarantee that you would witness a true miracle healing. No money required. Ben stood up straight and looked over at Alex who was washing dishes.

His mouth opened to say something, but something stopped him. There was something about this tract that gave him shivers. This had the work of Apollo all over it. Folding it into a neat square, Ben shoved the tract back into his pocket and reached for his coat.

“I’m out again. My phone’s on if you need me. And call me if you hear anything.”

Alex hummed as Ben headed for the door. No one tried to stop him anymore. In fact, they all seemed relieved when he chose to be out of the apartment. Yet another thing in the column of something wasn’t right. But at the present time he had other things to worry about. This little gathering of miracle healings meant something. He wasn’t sure yet, but with Judas in the hands of Apollo, it wasn’t hard to guess.