Name: Autumn Augustus Race: Human Sex: Female Age: 45 years old Occupation: Empress of the Eioda Nation States (ENS) & Supreme Marshal of the Allied Forces Weight: 120lbs Height: 5 feet 9 inches Hair color & style: Dirty blonde Eye color: Grey Clothing: ENS military grade light weight armor Piercings/Tattoos/Markings (if any): N/A Personality: Straight forward and down to business when necessary. She loves her small family and will do anything to protect it. Habits: One drink is never enough Likes: Using the Rietsu martial arts in live combat and likes to know what the left and right hand of her government is doing Dislikes: Busy work AKA paper work Social background: Former Secretary of State and Commander in the ENS Navy Bad experiences: Watching her best friend and step-brother murdered Best memory: Watching the child of prophecy being born Skills: Speaks multiple languages including: dwarf and elf native tongues; proficient in several martial arts styles including: Rietsu and multiple weapons including: hand gun, assault rifle, sniper rifle, stave, bow & arrow, long-sword, curved sword Things they find difficult: Coming to grip with a predetermined fate
Brief description: After witnessing the murder and betrayal of Alexander Elliot by their former classmate, she goes into hiding. Whisking away the child of prophecy, Thame Elliot, at the age of eleven, they train in secret.
Almost a decade later...
When the human population of Eioda saw that the legendary Autumn Augustus was running for public office, it was a landslide victory to elect the first female ruler of the human nation. Her perch atop the political pinnacle is precarious at best, considering pockets of resistance, dangerously close to treason, coming from the religious and military camps.
THE FATE OF THE HEAVEN'S WILL BE IN THE PALM OF A HAND - 2012.06.26
I sat up and followed
Calixta’s gaze upward. I rubbed my eyes. I didn’t know what I was seeing at
first. A statue? My brain refused to snap together coherent thoughts. I didn’t realize I’d fallen so close to one
of the garden benches until I stared up at the boy that sat on one. He was
strikingly beautiful. His tumble of blonde hair curled just above his sculpted
cheekbones. He wore a silk shirt and a loosened cravat, like he’d become bored
while dressing and decided to leave himself in disarray. His ivory skin and
frozen position was what had me mistaking him for something carved from marble
by Michelangelo. Then he sighed—a lonely, breathy proof of life. If I had to
imagine what Lucifer looked like before he fell from heaven, the boy on the
bench would certainly fulfill that image. My brain told me I had to look away,
but I couldn’t.
“Luka,” Calixta said again,
her voice unsure, almost nervous. It no longer contained the steel and bite she
had threatened me with, which made me wonder who the boy was.
He leaned on his hands and
crossed his legs, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the night sky. His
movements spoke of elegance and control. I’d encountered many people with
breeding before, but his took on the air of arrogance and self-assuredness of
someone used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it.
I only realized I’d been
holding my breath when my lungs protested. I exhaled. My heart sputtered and
restarted with a vengeance. Luka tore his gaze away from the stars and settled
it on me. I’d expected pitch-black irises, like the other Night Students, but
blue ice stared back at me.
“Human,” he whispered.
He reached out, and with a
finger, followed an invisible trail down my cheek. I stiffened. His touch,
cooler than Demitri’s, caused warm sparks to blossom on my face. He lifted his
finger to his lips and licked its tip. He might as well have licked me from the way my body shivered.
Luka’s curious gaze held
mine. “Leave us,” he said, but not to me.
“But—” Calixta protested like
a spoiled child.
He spoke in a language I
hadn’t heard before, remaining calm yet firm. The words had a rolling cadence I
couldn’t quite follow, like rumbling thunder in the distance. They contained a
harsh sensuality. The consonants were hard and the vowels were long and
lilting.
Footsteps retreated behind
me.
Luka reached out again.
It took me a minute to
realize he wanted to help me up. I hesitated. He smiled. I smiled back timidly
and took his hand, completely dazzled. Even with my uniform soaked from melted
snow, I didn’t feel cold—all my attention was on him and the way his callused
hand felt on mine. Without moving much from his seated position, he helped me
stand.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
He had a voice like a familiar lullaby. It filled my heart to the brim with
comfort.
I swallowed and tried to stop
gawking. “Phoenix.”
“The bird that rose from the
ashes.” Luka bent his head and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s a pleasure
meeting you.”
My cheeks warmed. My head
reeled, not knowing what to think. I couldn’t understand why I felt drawn to
him. And the strange connection frightened me.
From behind, someone gripped
my arms and yanked me away before I could sort out the feelings Luka inspired
in me. I found myself behind a towering figure yet again. Recognizing the
blue-black silk for hair tied at the nape, relief washed over me. Calixta
hadn’t come back to finish me off.
Demitri’s large hand wrapped
around my wrist. Unlike the night before, no calm existed in his demeanor. He
trembled like a junky in need of a fix. The coiled power in his tense muscles
vibrated into me.
“What are you doing here?”
Demitri asked.
I didn’t know he’d spoken to
me until I saw his expressionless profile. I sighed.
“Phoenix.”
I flinched. The ruthless way
he said my name punched all the air out of me. “You owe me answers,” I said
with as much bravado as I could muster.
“I owe you nothing.” He glared. “In fact, you owe me your life.”
“I don’t think so.”
Ignoring my indignation, he
faced Luka, who’d remained seated on the bench during my exchange with Demitri.
“Why is she with you, Luka?”
“I wasn’t going to taste her,
if that’s what you’re implying,” Luka said. “Although, she is simply delicious. I wouldn’t mind if you left us alone.”
There it was again. Taste.
The word that kept coming up between these Night Students and I was connected
to it in an increasingly uncomfortable way. To taste meant to sample, but what?
My flesh? They had to be joking because the alternative wasn’t funny.
“The sins of the father …”
Demitri left his sentence unfinished.
Luka’s smile shifted into a
snarl. “Obey my command.” His chin lifted. “Kneel.”
Demitri’s stance went rigid.
His grip tightened around my wrist.
Okay, weird just got weirder.
Why would Luka want Demitri to kneel before him? I thought back to Eli and the
others bowing to Demitri when he questioned them, but they didn’t kneel.
Seriously? Were they all living on a different planet or something?
“Kneel.” Luka’s
detestable smirk made his features sinister rather than angelic. The real Lucifer:
a fallen angel.
Without letting go of my
wrist, Demitri knelt down on one knee and bowed his head, his free hand flat at
the center of his chest. “Your command has been obeyed,” he said formally.
Luka nodded once.
Demitri stood up and pulled
me toward the school without telling me where we were going. Not having the
time to thank Luka for saving me from Calixta, I risked a glance back. Luka
smiled at me. His smile spoke of whispers, secrets, and promises to be shared
on a later date.
At Barinkoff
Academy, there's only one rule: no students on campus after curfew. Phoenix
McKay soon finds out why when she is left behind at sunset. A group calling
themselves night students threaten to taste her flesh until she is saved by a
mysterious, alluring boy. With his pale skin, dark eyes, and mesmerizing voice,
Demitri is both irresistible and impenetrable. He warns her to stay away from
his dangerous world of flesh eaters. Unfortunately, the gorgeous and playful
Luka has other plans.
When Phoenix is caught between her physical and her emotional attraction, she
becomes the keeper of a deadly secret that will rock the foundations of an
ancient civilization living beneath Barinkoff Academy. Phoenix doesn’t realize
until it is too late that the closer she gets to both Demitri and Luka the more
she is plunging them all into a centuries old feud.
Author Bio:
When Kate
Evangelista was told she had a knack for writing stories, she did the next best
thing: entered medical school. After realizing she wasn't going to be the next
Doogie Howser, M.D., Kate wandered into the Literature department of her
university and never looked back. Today, she is in possession of a piece of
paper that says to the world she owns a Literature degree. To make matters
worse, she took Master's courses in creative writing. In the end, she realized
to be a writer, none of what she had mattered. What really mattered? Writing.
Plain and simple, honest to God, sitting in front of her computer, writing.
Today, she has four completed Young Adult novels.
When you have wronged someone, it is tough to accept your
actions. To ask for forgiveness means a swallowing of pride and a humbling of
self. It means reflection upon ones inner being.
When you have been wronged, it is even harder to turn the
other cheek and forgive. Hate is an easy emotion to grab ahold to which can
take a person to thoughts unimaginable.
I believe that the first step down the path of healing is forgiviness;
not just of other people but forgiviness of self. But I think that in order to forgive,
you must accept and recognize your true self.
After all the associates, allies, comrades, friends, and
lovers are gone, what is left of the man in the mirror. Do you look at your
reflection and see different people staring back or do you see nothing at all.
Can a person even stand to look at themselves for ten minutes and answer the
questions that naturally arise from human curiosity.
To have a conversation with your inner self and really
listen to what is said in response is vitally important to human wellbeing.
Otherwise, howelse can others listen and heed your advice if the man in the
mirror cannot stand to listen to the reflection of self.