I don’t know how long I have been in this room. It feels like a century has slipped by, but my reflection in the metallic door suggest it has been merely weeks.
Screams of torment agonise in my mind as I stare at the task before me – an impossible task with only one outcome – death. If Death would come to me and carry me from this torturous place, I would welcome him with open arms He will not come for me, he will come for another, another whose passing will cause my heart to break even further.
There was once a time I didn’t believe in the supernatural. I dismissed the strange book that came into my life as nothing but junk, and I considered the warnings that followed to be nothing but folklore. How could I have been so foolish to believe the eyes that peered into my mind were innocuous?
Now, as I sit in my concrete cell with three boxes filled with unnerving contents, I can think of nothing else but the fortune teller’s warning, he will hunt you, he will find you, he will claim you as his own. And, you will love him until you draw your final breath.
I pray to God - any God who may be listening - to give me strength and the power to fight. I know what lays before me, and I know it's going to take ounce of strength I have.
Reviews from other platforms:
‘Ancient books. Hot and sexy guys. Magic and killer villains. Really, what more could you want. Soo good!’ - ‘Unputdownable. Holy crap! Incredible.’ - ‘Was biting my nails the entire way through. Fairly certain I stopped breathing a few times too. Wow! Brilliant.’
When I was nineteen, I made the decision to leave the confines of my small home town of Ararat and venture to the larger city of Ballarat. Initially, I felt intimidated by this city filled with strangers, but it did not take long before I settled down and made my home here—and I love it. I live here with my wonderfully supportive husband, and my two children who fill my heart with pride.
I was in my early twenties when I considered writing as a career option. Strange that it took so long to get started given that the early signs were as obvious as neon flashing lights that writing would play an important part in my life.
I’m an only child and most of my childhood days were filled with imagining faraway places and extraordinary people. My family and I would visit our holiday house in Lake Bolac, and whenever I was there, I would tuck myself away and write stories—fantasy stories. I still have one of those early stories; I was too young to articulate all the words, so in place of the words, I drew pictures. I also have vivid memories of lying on my Nana’s knee while she tucked my hair behind my ear and told me fabulous stories. They were fairytales, but not the usual kind. Hers were uniquely created and told; stories of Gremlocks stealing you away in the night, and mermaids who played havoc with the lives of sailors. She once told me her uncle saw a real mermaid—I can tell you that as a child, there was no greater flight of fancy. I credit her for being a writer now; my only wish is that she could still be here to see it.
The story of The Aztec Saga actually came to me about eight years ago, while I was in the shower! Yes, it’s been a long time in the making, but I am stoked to have finalised the first book of this trilogy! ‘Derrek’ popped into my head as a fully developed character and said, ‘I’m The Aztec.’ As simply as that, the story was born.
One Day is quite a different story for me as I don’t generally write in this genre. I have my best friend Alana (to whom I have dedicated the book) to thank for that. I was at a crossroads in my life and felt utterly lost. It was her words that not only helped me to choose a path, but ultimately gave me the inspiration for One Day. She said: “One day you’re going to die, which means one day you’re going to be lying there dying. And what do you want to be thinking about? ‘Gee I’m glad I worked overtime when I was twenty to buy that pair of shoes.’ Or maybe you’ll say ‘Yep, working nonstop to buy the flash house was worth never seeing my family.’ The truth is, you’ll be lying there wishing you’d seen what matters, you’ll be wishing you’d spent more time with friends and family and did what made you happy.” Even now, every decision I make is based on that. Alana is one of those rare people who is kind in every way just because she wants to be, not because she will benefit from it. I owe a lot to her, including One Day.
So this is the beginning of my writing journey, and I hope to take you all with me.
Adding a review 5 years later - I read this for my bookclub, and I wish I had recorded my thoughts in a review at the time. All round enjoyable read, might be worth a reread to refresh the details.