Today KristaLyn A. Vetovich and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the cover and an exclusive content for STRAYED, her new Paranormal which releases September 2018! Check out the awesome cover and enter to win a $10 Amazon GC!
On to the reveal!
Title: STRAYED
Author: KristaLyn A. Vetovich
Pub. Date: September 2018
Publisher: Glass House Press
Formats: eBook
Pages: 85
Find it: Goodreads
In the strugglebetween good and evil, humans don’t stand a chance—not on their own.
Which is why, for
every living soul, there is a Firn: a spirit assigned to guide and defend
humans from demonic beings like the Aropfain. But earning a place in the fight
is a process that requires several lifetimes—of service, experience, and
sacrifice.
every living soul, there is a Firn: a spirit assigned to guide and defend
humans from demonic beings like the Aropfain. But earning a place in the fight
is a process that requires several lifetimes—of service, experience, and
sacrifice.
Having just returned
from her most recent life as an Ancient Roman martyr, Anaya is only one step
away from achieving that goal. And if she succeeds, she might become the Firn
with the most important mission: guiding the human that will either save—or end—the
world.
from her most recent life as an Ancient Roman martyr, Anaya is only one step
away from achieving that goal. And if she succeeds, she might become the Firn
with the most important mission: guiding the human that will either save—or end—the
world.
But when she’s paired
with the notoriously difficult Jordin, her chances of success suddenly start to
slip. Because Jordin isn’t like other souls. He’s strong, volatile—and a prime
target for the Aropfain. And he almost immediately falls for an Aropfain ploy
that could not only jeopardize his chances of becoming a Firn, but also
endanger the entire world.
with the notoriously difficult Jordin, her chances of success suddenly start to
slip. Because Jordin isn’t like other souls. He’s strong, volatile—and a prime
target for the Aropfain. And he almost immediately falls for an Aropfain ploy
that could not only jeopardize his chances of becoming a Firn, but also
endanger the entire world.
As his partner, Anaya
is the only one who can save him. But will she succeed? Or will she fail—and
take the world down with her?
is the only one who can save him. But will she succeed? Or will she fail—and
take the world down with her?
CHAPTER ONE
Well, it happened again. I died.
The bloodied sand of the colosseum shivers out of focus as
my soul shakes off its physical limitations in favor of a higher vibration.
Instead of centurions and weeping family, I’m now surrounded by snowy white
noise and quiet.
my soul shakes off its physical limitations in favor of a higher vibration.
Instead of centurions and weeping family, I’m now surrounded by snowy white
noise and quiet.
They came for me at dawn. I can still hear my mother’s sobs.
I was only twelve.
I was only twelve.
I blink the memories away just as a man bends and pulls into
view before me, then straightens with a blithe sort of smile. “Welcome back,”
he says in an excessively soothing tone. He wears glasses I know he doesn’t
need, and behind them, his unearthly blue eyes trace my face, looking for signs
of stress.
view before me, then straightens with a blithe sort of smile. “Welcome back,”
he says in an excessively soothing tone. He wears glasses I know he doesn’t
need, and behind them, his unearthly blue eyes trace my face, looking for signs
of stress.
And it comes back to me like the snap of fingers. An
Advokat. Here to help me adjust to the trauma of crossing over from life to
death.
Advokat. Here to help me adjust to the trauma of crossing over from life to
death.
Suddenly I wonder how he sees me. Do I have blue eyes now?
In life, they were brown, but here in death I’ve always imagined others see me
with crystal blue. I guess it would depend on how much they like me. Appearance
is entirely based on impression here. We see what we feel. Feelings are real,
vision an illusion.
In life, they were brown, but here in death I’ve always imagined others see me
with crystal blue. I guess it would depend on how much they like me. Appearance
is entirely based on impression here. We see what we feel. Feelings are real,
vision an illusion.
And this Advokat must be new, I realize a moment later. If
he’d been here for any length of time, he wouldn’t be using the sappy voice
they put on for the newer souls. The ones who don’t understand how it works.
He’d know that I’m something of a regular in the transition between life and
death—that I’ve lost count of how many of these interviews I’ve had to sit
through. I’m sure I know the process better than he does.
he’d been here for any length of time, he wouldn’t be using the sappy voice
they put on for the newer souls. The ones who don’t understand how it works.
He’d know that I’m something of a regular in the transition between life and
death—that I’ve lost count of how many of these interviews I’ve had to sit
through. I’m sure I know the process better than he does.
Because I’ve had his job before, mastered it long ago.
I skim him, searching the endless trove of memories trying
to break through the fog of earthly business still clouding my mind. I don’t
remember him. And I can see that he doesn’t know me.
to break through the fog of earthly business still clouding my mind. I don’t
remember him. And I can see that he doesn’t know me.
Definitely new. Which means he’ll play the interview by the
book. I groan.
book. I groan.
The Advokat reaches out as if to comfort me, like my groan
was one of anxiety and not disdain. “Try not to panic.”
was one of anxiety and not disdain. “Try not to panic.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes and flatten my gaze at him
instead. I understand it’s his job to help me recover from the shock of death,
but honestly, I’m fine. So I died— so what? There are many things worse than
death, and one of them, if anyone ever bothered to ask me, is living. I’m
actually thrilled to be back here—and I don’t need an Advokat to counsel me
through the transition.
instead. I understand it’s his job to help me recover from the shock of death,
but honestly, I’m fine. So I died— so what? There are many things worse than
death, and one of them, if anyone ever bothered to ask me, is living. I’m
actually thrilled to be back here—and I don’t need an Advokat to counsel me
through the transition.
Also, I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have important business to
attend to, even higher vibrations to achieve. I’m so close now, and he’s the
only thing standing in my way.
attend to, even higher vibrations to achieve. I’m so close now, and he’s the
only thing standing in my way.
I tap my foot and glance around for someone—anyone who might
recognize me and give me an opportunity to walk away from this unnecessary
formality.
recognize me and give me an opportunity to walk away from this unnecessary
formality.
“Everything will make sense soon.” The Advokat’s voice
echoes through the white expanse around us. Clearly, all other souls are
keeping their distance to allow me to transition without any added shock. Or—I
narrow my eyes at the Advokat—he’s followed protocol by requesting they give us
space.
echoes through the white expanse around us. Clearly, all other souls are
keeping their distance to allow me to transition without any added shock. Or—I
narrow my eyes at the Advokat—he’s followed protocol by requesting they give us
space.
And do we ever have it. As far as the eye can see, there’s
nothing but static white. But I smile, and my shoulders relax—because this is
my true home.
nothing but static white. But I smile, and my shoulders relax—because this is
my true home.
Just the way I remember it.
The Advokat leans into my line of sight. “Do you know your
name?”
name?”
My smile drops.
In life, my name was
Agnes. In this life, anyway.
Agnes. In this life, anyway.
There have been so many lives, so many names, but between
them all, just one feels like home.
them all, just one feels like home.
When it comes, my voice sounds like a lost, cherished
memory. “Anaya.” My first word after death. The truest word I know.
memory. “Anaya.” My first word after death. The truest word I know.
The Advokat smiles and nods. He doesn’t take any notes or
write anything down, and I know about that, too. The answers are in his mind,
ready when he needs them, downloaded into his head from the source of all truth
on the highest plane of vibration there is: El Olam, our master and creator. He
sits so high none of us can reach him, above laws and structure. The world is
as he makes it, and we are simply stewards of his creation, here to serve.
write anything down, and I know about that, too. The answers are in his mind,
ready when he needs them, downloaded into his head from the source of all truth
on the highest plane of vibration there is: El Olam, our master and creator. He
sits so high none of us can reach him, above laws and structure. The world is
as he makes it, and we are simply stewards of his creation, here to serve.
And today I’ll go one step further in the process of
becoming a defender of creation. I’ll become a Firn.
becoming a defender of creation. I’ll become a Firn.
The Advocat, who is becoming more annoying by the moment,
interrupts my thoughts with yet another question. “Good. And do you know where
you are?”
interrupts my thoughts with yet another question. “Good. And do you know where
you are?”
Where I am? Well it’s a much better place than where I was…
I was in Rome, in the
fourth century. I rejected a boy, and he sold me out as a Christian. It took
them forever to kill me—first with shame, then with flames. But all I gave them
was a blank stare through the numbness. They couldn’t shame me. I wouldn’t burn
when they strung me to the stake and lit the fire—even the flames knew not to
touch me. But the Roman officer’s sword through my throat did the trick in the
end. I was gone before I felt anything. So I guess the joke’s on them. There
was darkness, then a burst of light—
fourth century. I rejected a boy, and he sold me out as a Christian. It took
them forever to kill me—first with shame, then with flames. But all I gave them
was a blank stare through the numbness. They couldn’t shame me. I wouldn’t burn
when they strung me to the stake and lit the fire—even the flames knew not to
touch me. But the Roman officer’s sword through my throat did the trick in the
end. I was gone before I felt anything. So I guess the joke’s on them. There
was darkness, then a burst of light—
And now I’m home, where none of that matters anymore. I’m
free here. Because no one can shame or kill the dead. I’ll be safe as long as I
stay.
free here. Because no one can shame or kill the dead. I’ll be safe as long as I
stay.
“This is Lemayle,” I say quietly. “The afterlife. The real
world.” And I have no intention of ever living again.
world.” And I have no intention of ever living again.
He rocks back and grins. “Wonderful!” Then his face
stiffens. He swallows and his eyes shake as he looks me over for a second time,
now scanning for any truths beneath the surface, anything I’m hiding from him.
If souls could sweat, he’d be a mess as he prepares for the most important
question of the interview.
stiffens. He swallows and his eyes shake as he looks me over for a second time,
now scanning for any truths beneath the surface, anything I’m hiding from him.
If souls could sweat, he’d be a mess as he prepares for the most important
question of the interview.
I used to have his job, so I know what comes next. My
answers from here on out will decide my final destination.
answers from here on out will decide my final destination.
“All right.” He clears his throat. He doesn’t have to. It’s
the nerves. I will be his enemy if I answer poorly, but he has to remain
objective. He’s a professional, after all, and he doesn’t know whose side I’m
on yet—what changes this most recent lifetime might have made in me.
the nerves. I will be his enemy if I answer poorly, but he has to remain
objective. He’s a professional, after all, and he doesn’t know whose side I’m
on yet—what changes this most recent lifetime might have made in me.
I was martyred, and not all martyrs come back home the way
they should. Martyrs go into life as warriors for El Olam’s cause … but don’t
always return feeling their suffering was justified. Some turn against him and
defect to the one who seeks to depose him.
they should. Martyrs go into life as warriors for El Olam’s cause … but don’t
always return feeling their suffering was justified. Some turn against him and
defect to the one who seeks to depose him.
And me? How do I feel about the suffering I was put through?
Have I changed my mind about who to serve? And how dangerous does that make me
to the fragile balance of the world? That’s what the Advokat needs to find out.
Have I changed my mind about who to serve? And how dangerous does that make me
to the fragile balance of the world? That’s what the Advokat needs to find out.
“Do the names El Olam and Narn mean anything to you?”
Good and evil. That’s what they mean. Free will and slavery.
But which is which? Is El Olam good … or is he evil? Are Narn’s plans for less
service to living souls and more dominion over them more appealing? Are they
justified? No soul chooses evil.
But which is which? Is El Olam good … or is he evil? Are Narn’s plans for less
service to living souls and more dominion over them more appealing? Are they
justified? No soul chooses evil.
They simply choose what they believe is right.
I hide my laugh with a cough at the tension in the Advokat’s
hunched shoulders. If he’s new—and he wants to stay—he’ll need a stiffer a
spine than he’s got now. I might as well be the one to give it to him.
hunched shoulders. If he’s new—and he wants to stay—he’ll need a stiffer a
spine than he’s got now. I might as well be the one to give it to him.
I level my gaze at him, eyes wide open to appear just a
little less threatening.
little less threatening.
“Yes. I know them.”
He nods, more rigidly this time, and rubs the back of his
neck as he braces for my response to his final question.
neck as he braces for my response to his final question.
“And … your allegiance?”
I stare at him for a long moment, watching the anxiety build
behind his bright blue eyes. He doesn’t want any trouble, but his other hand
twitches at his side, ready to summon the support of a slightly higher
power—just in case I came back tainted.
behind his bright blue eyes. He doesn’t want any trouble, but his other hand
twitches at his side, ready to summon the support of a slightly higher
power—just in case I came back tainted.
Just in case I’ve decided I hate the way the world works …
and want to serve the one trying to turn it upside down.
and want to serve the one trying to turn it upside down.
“Oh calm down,” I finally chide him. This has gone on long
enough to bore me. I have business to attend to, and honestly, after fifty
lifetimes, a soul should be able to just skip this process. “I chose El Olam
lifetimes ago. I’m bound to be a Firn. This was my last run.”
enough to bore me. I have business to attend to, and honestly, after fifty
lifetimes, a soul should be able to just skip this process. “I chose El Olam
lifetimes ago. I’m bound to be a Firn. This was my last run.”
His whole body wilts as the tension releases. Had I said
Narn, the Advokat and I would have had a few issues. Because it would have
meant I was a soul with eyes toward flipping the script, turning the world
upside down—force living souls to do as we say, and ruling over them as gods.
Narn, the Advokat and I would have had a few issues. Because it would have
meant I was a soul with eyes toward flipping the script, turning the world
upside down—force living souls to do as we say, and ruling over them as gods.
He’d have had to immediately summon one of Lemayle’s
second-highest authorities—a Malekh, El Olam’s archangels—to deal with me. And
it wouldn’t have been pleasant. The Malekh don’t like jokes. Most of them,
anyway.
second-highest authorities—a Malekh, El Olam’s archangels—to deal with me. And
it wouldn’t have been pleasant. The Malekh don’t like jokes. Most of them,
anyway.
“Well that is a relief.” The Advokat’s hand slides from the
back of his neck to clutch his chest, steadying the phantom sensation of a
palpitating heart.
back of his neck to clutch his chest, steadying the phantom sensation of a
palpitating heart.
And I grin, even though I shouldn’t. But what’s the fun in
seniority if you can’t mess with the rookies?
seniority if you can’t mess with the rookies?
“We need as many Firns as we can get,” he admits, “events
accelerating as they are.” I perk up at that.
accelerating as they are.” I perk up at that.
Accelerating events is much more
my speed—though it gives me less time to meet the final criteria for joining
the Firns’ ranks. “The living souls need all the protection we can give them,”
he finishes.
my speed—though it gives me less time to meet the final criteria for joining
the Firns’ ranks. “The living souls need all the protection we can give them,”
he finishes.
I couldn’t agree more. And that’s where I come in—where all
the Firns stand and serve El Olam. Without Firns to guide living souls and
protect them from temptation and harm, Narn would flip the script. And humans
would walk right into their own slavery.
the Firns stand and serve El Olam. Without Firns to guide living souls and
protect them from temptation and harm, Narn would flip the script. And humans
would walk right into their own slavery.
But El Olam won’t allow it.
So neither will I. I’m so close now. Just one step left, and
if I impress the Malekh and El Olam enough in my next job as a soul collector,
then I’ll become a Firn, and one day I’ll be even more than that. If I perform
well enough, I’ll be chosen as the Firn who oversees El Olam’s plan to defeat
Narn once and for all. It has to be one of us, so it might as well be me. And I
won’t stop until I see it happen.
if I impress the Malekh and El Olam enough in my next job as a soul collector,
then I’ll become a Firn, and one day I’ll be even more than that. If I perform
well enough, I’ll be chosen as the Firn who oversees El Olam’s plan to defeat
Narn once and for all. It has to be one of us, so it might as well be me. And I
won’t stop until I see it happen.
Meanwhile, the Advokat extends his hand to me. “Best of luck
to you. I hope you make the cut.”
to you. I hope you make the cut.”
I glance at his hand and back up to him. So he really hasn’t
heard of me, then. I may not be a Firn yet, but I have made a name for myself
as the one to watch for earning the coveted position in El Olam’s plan.
heard of me, then. I may not be a Firn yet, but I have made a name for myself
as the one to watch for earning the coveted position in El Olam’s plan.
Well, if he hasn’t heard of me yet, he will soon enough.
“Thanks.” With a smirk, I grip his hand and shake it firmly
enough to knock him off balance. “But I really don’t need luck.”
enough to knock him off balance. “But I really don’t need luck.”
KristaLyn is the internationally
published author of seven books and one short story, including the upcoming
Prelude of the Reyn Gayst series releasing in 2018 from Glass House Press. She
graduated in 2011 from Susquehanna University with a degree in English
Literature and began traditionally publishing her novels the next year.
KristaLyn is also a certified health and life coach and enjoys infusing her
stories with motivational themes andcharacters from all walks of life.
KristaLyn lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and their corgi, Jack.
Born and raised in Central Pennsylvania, KristaLyn graduated a year early from Susquehanna University in 2011. She has visited twenty different countries on goodwill trips, once representing the US as a student ambassador with People To People Student Ambassadors. After college, KristaLyn dabbled as an amusement park performer, a Walt Disney World Cast Member, a Project Coordinator for Group Mission Trips’ Week Of Hope, and a life and wellness coach. She has always had a deep passion for travel, helping people, and spreading the importance of positivity and self-worth through
fiction writing.
fiction writing.
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Sincerely Karen Jo 