Free Preview of Michelle Muto’s DON’T FEAR THE REAPER
I am so excited to have the very talented YA author Michelle Muto on my blog today. She has been nice enough to give us a free preview of her book DON’T FEAR THE REAPER. Here is a brief description of the book:
Grief-stricken by the murder of her twin, Keely Morrison is convinced suicide is her ticket to eternal peace and a chance to reunite with her sister. When Keely succeeds in taking her own life, she discovers death isnβt at all what she expected. Instead, sheβs trapped in a netherworld on Earth and her only hope for reconnecting with her sister and navigating the afterlife is a bounty-hunting reaper and a sardonic, possibly unscrupulous, demon. But when the demon offers Keely her greatest temptationβrevenge on her sister’s murdererβshe must uncover his motives and determine who she can trust. Because, as Keely soon learns, both reaper and demon are keeping secrets and she fears the worst is trueβthat her every decision will change how, and with whom, she spends eternity.
Doesn’t that sound awesome? Just wait until you read this first chapter! You will want to scoop it right up.
First Chapter Teaser:
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for they are with me.Β
I repeated my version of the psalm as I watched the ribbon of blood drift from my wrist. Iβd hoped it would be a distractionβsomething to stop me from wondering what my sisterβs dying thoughts had been. Exhaling slowly, I let the emptiness consume me.Β
Jordan had kept my secrets and I had kept hers. In the end, it came down to just one secret between us that took her life. Now, it would take mine. I should have said something, but nothing I said or did now could bring her back or make anyone understand what she meant to me.
Are you here, Jordan? Are you with me?Tell me about heaven…
I told myself Jordan was gone, never coming back, but her memories continued to haunt me. I had no idea if there even was an afterlife. If God existed, I was convinced he had given up on me. Not once did I sense heβd heard a single one of my prayers. I wasnβt asking for the worldβI only wanted to know if my sister was safe and at peace. What was so hard about that?Β
She should still be here. It wasnβt fair.Β
Iβd been the difficult oneβmuch more than Jordan. For a while, Iβd even gotten into drugs. Mom and Dad had worried Iβd get Jordan into drugs, too. But I wouldnβt. Not ever. Besides, that part of my life had been over long before Jordanβs death. A small gargoyle tattoo on my left shoulder was all that remained of my previous lifestyle.
Mom and Dad started treating me differently after Jordanβs funeral two months ago. She and I were twins, so I understood how hard it was for them to look at me and not see her. Sometimes, they wouldnβt look at me at all. Mom went to the psychiatrist, but no one asked if I needed to talk to someone about what happened. No one asked if I needed sleeping pills or antidepressants. Yeah, sure. Donβt give the former addict pills of any sort.Β
Not one person saw the all-consuming suffering that gnawed at my soul. Why couldnβt anyone see? Jordan had been more than my sisterβsheβd been my Samson, my strength. I would have done anything for her, and yet, Iβd failed her. I wasnβt the one whoβd killed her, but I might as well have been. How could I ever live with that? My heart had a stillness to it since her death.Β
IΒ shall fear no evil.
I couldnβt very well recite the first part of Psalm 23 because it said I shall not want, and I did want. I wanted to go back in time. I wanted my sister back. Clearly, goodness and mercy were never going to be part of my life ever again. In my mind, I saw myself walking through the iron gates of hell with demons cackling gleefully all around.
I didnβt want to die. Not really. I was just tired and didnβt know of another way to stop the pain. Doctors removed a bad appendix. Dentists pulled rotten teeth. What was I supposed to do when my very essence hurt, when the cancer Iβd come to call depression made every decent memory agonizingly unbearable?Β
Before Iβd gotten down to cutting my wrist (I managed to only cut one), Iβd taken a few swigs of Dadβs tequilaβthe good kind he kept in the basement freezer. Iβd used another swig or two to chase down the remainder of Momβs sleeping pills in the event I failed to hit an artery or vein. Then Iβd set the bottle on the ledge of the tub in case I needed further liquid encouragement. Instead of using a knife or a razor, I attached a cutting blade to my Dadβs Dremel. The Dremel was faster, I reasoned. More efficient.Β
I recited the line from Psalms 23 again. It had become my personal mantra.Β It would have been easier to OD, I suppose. But I felt closer to my sister this way, to suffer as sheβd suffered.
The words resonated in my parentsβ oversized bathroom. Iβd chosen theirs because the Jacuzzi tub was larger than the tub in the hall bathroom. Jordan and I used to take bubble baths together in this same tub when we were little.
Innocence felt like a lifetime ago. I searched the bathroom for bubble bath but came up short. Soap might have made the laceration hurt more so it was probably just as well. Besides, the crimson streaming from my wrist like watercolor on silk was oddly mesmerizing.Β
The loneliness inside proved unrelenting, and the line from the psalms made me feel better. I prayed for the agony inside me to stop. I argued with God. Pleaded. But after all was said and done, I just wanted the darkness to call me home.
I tried not to think of who would find my body or whoβd read the note Iβd left. I blamed myself not only for failing Jordan, but for failing my parents, too.Β
My lifeline to this existence continued to bleed out into the warm water. Killing myself had been harder than Iβd imagined. I hadnβt anticipated the searing fire racing through my veins. I reached for the tequila with my good arm but couldnβt quite manage. Tears welled in my eyes.Β
Part of me foolishly felt Jordan was here. The other part feared she wasnβt.
Give me a sign, Sis. Just one.
I imagined seeing my parents at my funeralβtheir gaunt faces, red-eyed and sleepless. How could I do this to them? Wasnβt the devastation of losing one child enough?Β
No. Stop. A voice in my head screamed. Donβt do this. Donβt. Please…
I shifted my body, attempted to get my uncooperative legs under me. I could see the phone on my parentsβ nightstand. I could make it that far. Had to. The voice was right. I didnβt want to do this. I felt disorientated, dizzy. Darkness crept along the edges of my vision. Focusing became difficult. A sweeping shadow of black caught my attention. Someone stood in the bathroomβnot my sister. A man. Had I managed to call 911? I couldnβt remember getting out of the tub. And whyβd I get back in? Did I use a towel?Β
Mom is going to be pissed when she sees the blood Iβve tracked all over the bedroom carpet.Β
βIβm sorry,β I told the man in black.Β
βItβs okay, Keely. Donβt be afraid.β Not my fatherβs voice. It was softer, with a hint of sorrow. Distant. Fleeting. Later, Iβd feel embarrassed about this, but for now I was safe from the nothing Iβd almost become. My teeth clattered from the chill. My eyelids fluttered in time with my breaths. The tub water had turned the color of port wine. The ribbons, the pretty, red watercolor ribbons were gone.
Dull gray clouded my sight.
A voice whispered to me, and my consciousness floated to the surface again.Β
ββokay, Keely.β
Cold. So cold.
βIβm right here.β
There was no fear in me as the man bent forward, his face inches from mine. He was my fatherβs age, and yet strangely older. His eyes were so…blue, almost iridescent. The irisesΒ were rimmed in a fine line of black, and the creases etched at the corners reminded me of sunbeams as he gave me a weak smile. The oddly. Dressed. Paramedic. A warm hand reached into the water and cradled mine. My fingers clutched his. I sighed, feeling myself floating, drifting. Lightβhigh and intense exploded before me. No! Too much. Too much! I shuddered and labored to catch my breath, but it wouldnβt come.Β
Finally, the comfort of darkness rose to greet me.
Where to buy/download sample chapters:
Connect with Michelle: