A dark fifteen year old girl, Danni, isn’t a natural heroine, more of an anti-heroine. Everything terrifies her; Sports day, a school phobia and especially the dark are all problems. Danni has always been frightened of the dark but she doesn’t know there is good reason for her fear until she moves to Edinburgh. As soon as she meets James MacAbre with his perfect face, fair hair and soft Scottish lilt; he draws her gaze like a lit Christmas tree in a darkened room. He is film star gorgeous and she immediately mistrusts him because of those exceptional looks.
Lunar Regeneration is available from Amazon.com
And now, from Lunar Regeneration:
-…Hamish shouts a warning. “Rose! Come back!”
Past listening, past caring, I throw myself down next to James’s prone figure. With scrabbling fingers I search frantically for a heartbeat, nothing, a pulse maybe? No, nothing! Any whisper of breath, no, C.P.R. then. I can’t lose him. I won’t lose him. Into the rhythmic chest massages interspersed with life-giving breaths that my Dad taught all his children. I will save James. I will.
I feel Hamish’s arms around me, unsure, clumsy. James isn’t responding. James has to respond. He will respond, won’t he?
Hamish shakes his head, “It’s too late, Rose. James’s gone. This lifecycle’s ended.”
I want to scratch Hamish’s eyes out I hate him so much for saying the words aloud. “No!” I scream. “We’ve to get him to hospital quick. My Dad’ll save him!” With nerveless fingers I begin scrabbling for a phone.
I sob, “Its Danni. I’m called Danni,” I cry, “And I’m saving James. He’s young and strong he’ll make it, he’s got to make it!”
Hamish takes the phone from me. “Look,” he demands pointing at James.
I look, “O.M.G.!” I can’t believe my eyes. Am I hallucinating? My eyes burn with tears, the lids sting with salt, I rub them fiercely with the back of my hands and blink hard. But the image in front of me doesn’t change any. This can’t be real! Sobbing, I back away from James, it isn’t James anymore!
“What the…?” Before my horrified eyes James’s prone body changes from tragically slain beautiful boy, perfect prematurely, deceased young Romeo to… My first instinct is fear. I shrink away from the macabre sight. Shock, freezes my lungs, can’t even get the breath to scream. The air is trapped in my terrified chest and for the first time in my life I believe you can be frightened to death. Think of the old classic horror movie ‘American Werewolf in London.’ Only the transition taking place in front of me isn’t from boy to Werewolf. It’s from boy to… to … to rotting corpse. I’m looking at an accelerated decomposition process; flesh is putrefying and puffing before my eyes, the lips draw back in a hideous grin, one eye ball is rolling lose in a socket. I have to accept James is really dead. He must be dead. No live thing could go through this without screaming in agony.
Someone is screaming now. A piercing female shrill treble of a scream is slicing through my pounding head. “Shut up! Please shut up?” I plead. And she does shut up for a split-second but only because she can’t talk at the same time as scream. The blood-curdling shriek continues the moment I stop talking. The screamer’s me.