.jpg)
Reflections of the Gods
Author: Lisa Llamrei
ISBN: 978-0-9880203-0-6
ISBN: 978-0-9880203-1-3
ISBN: 978-0-9880203-2-0
ASIN: B00CK09R84
Release Date: May 1st 2013
Pages: 350
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Summary
Newly
divorced Das MacDermott longs for a fresh start. As he packs up and prepares to
move out of the city, he spots a young woman being held at gunpoint by three
men. Despite being outnumbered and unarmed, Das does his best to intervene.
Once liberated, the victim seems oddly ungrateful, but on an apparent whim
decides to join Das in his new life in rural Ontario. Aislinn, as she is
called, returns the favour; with her encouragement and support, his start-up
photography business takes off, and more importantly, Das is saved from
loneliness and self-doubt.
Das,
however, is never quite able to fully dismiss the contrary aspects of Aislinn’s
nature, and is strictly forbidden from asking about Aislinn’s past. All seems
too good to be true, and indeed it is. Aislinn’s unusual talents and odd
Behaviour, unbeknownst to Das, come from her demigod status. Aislinn is half-Sidhe,
daughter of Fionvarra, Ireland’s fairy king, and a human woman. Sidhe wars have
so disrupted the mortal world that Aislinn has joined with other immortals in
an effort to permanently separate it from Tir N’a Nog, the fairy realm.
Born
in ancient Ireland, Aislinn spends millennia as the plaything of the cruel and
narcissistic gods. The pain of being neither human nor Sidhe is offset by her
relationship to the Fir Bolg, another race of fair folk who take pity on her
lonely state; and the refuge she takes in being Das’s lover and protector. As
Das comes to accept the possibility that Aislinn belongs to a supernatural
world, he discovers that the two worlds are set to collide in a way that may
mean the destruction of all humanity.
Excerpt
DAS
TORONTO,
ONTARIO
FRIDAY,
OCTOBER 31, 2008
I took one last look around the apartment. Not perfect, but
it would do. I checked for the third time to make sure I didn’t forget
anything. Everything I owned, packed into boxes, waiting to start over.
I lifted the first box from the small
stack beside the door and carried it outside the apartment and down the steps.
I placed it in the trunk of my car, half-closing it gently so it wouldn’t
latch. As I turned to go back for the next box, a metallic thud sounded from
nearby. Cats in the alley again. I started up the steps. Another crash. I
hesitated. The neighbourhood had been having trouble with raccoons spreading
garbage all over, but they didn’t usually appear in daylight. What do I care? I
don’t live here anymore. I continued up the stairs.
With my hand on the doorknob, I
hesitated again. I checked my watch. Already past four. The cleaning had taken
longer than anticipated and I risked getting stuck in rush-hour traffic. Damn.
I ran down the steps.
I walked the half-block to the alley
and rounded the corner. What I saw there made me stop dead. A jolt passed
through my whole body, as if the air were electrically charged.
Three men and a teenage girl. One man
held the girl by the waist, both of her arms pinned behind her back, her feet
dangling a few centimetres off the ground. The girl kicked out with her feet so
the two men facing her had to stand out of reach. Still, they both held guns,
one of which was pointed at her head. It had no effect on her thrashing.
I flattened myself against the wall,
out of their sight. I reached toward my back pocket and remembered my cellphone
was in the car. My mind raced. Three of them, at least two armed. They could
kill the girl before I even got close, and then they would kill me. The Boy
Scouts never prepared me for this.
I peered around the corner into the
alley. The one with his gun at the girl’s head leaned closer and spoke to her.
Whatever he said upset her and she spit in his face.
I raced into the alley hollering, “Let her go!” and
immediately wondered what the hell I was doing.
The man smashed his gun into the side
of the girl’s face. The other armed man aimed his gun at my chest. I slowed my
walk. For some reason, my feet wouldn’t obey the impulse to hurl myself at the
ground. I raised my arms. “Let her go—she’s just a child.”
The man holding the girl tightened his
grip and the other two approached me. I willed my legs not to shake. They
continued with their forward momentum, still refusing to obey my better sense.
The first man raised his gun and smashed it into my skull. He slammed his other
fist into my belly. When I crumpled to the ground, both men kicked me. I felt
another blow to the head. I heard a gunshot; through the slits of my eyelids, I
saw a brilliant flash of light. Just before losing consciousness, I had the
vague idea that I was supposed to go toward the light.
~.~.~
Whispering. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of
voices, but I couldn’t make out any words. They spoke very fast, as if someone
had sped up a tape recording. I wondered if they were my loved ones waiting for
me. I couldn’t see the light anymore and wondered if maybe the light didn’t want
me.
I became aware of a throbbing in my
head and felt the hard asphalt beneath me. Someone cradled my head. Waves of
heat passed through my temples and rippled inside my skull. My scalp prickled.
The throbbing diminished. Strong hands shook me. I feigned unconsciousness, not
wanting to wake up to another beating.
The hands shook me again. I opened my
eyes and looked straight into those of the young girl. She wore a long, white
dress, her black hair falling in tousled waves past her shoulders to her hips.
She seemed to radiate light. My first thought was that we were both dead and
I’d made it to heaven after all. Maybe you get points for stupidity in the
service of others.
Seeing her up close, it was clear I had
underestimated her age by several years. Though small, she was clearly a young
woman—closer to eighteen than fourteen, possibly even older. Her dress was
sheer, showing every curve of her body. My immediate visceral reaction was not
something I expected to feel in heaven. Then the throbbing in my head returned,
equally unexpected. As my senses cleared, I noted the scent of garbage mixed
with car exhaust. I heard horns honking in the distance and shouts from the street.
So, not dead, then. When I tried to sit up, pain in my head forced me back
down.
With uncanny strength, the girl pulled
me to a sitting position and looked me square in the eye. She squatted on her
heels. Any glow I thought I had seen disappeared. Her face muscles tensed, her
mouth drew tight. I couldn’t quite read the emotion, but I didn’t get the
impression she was concerned for my well-being.
“You’re alive.” My voice sounded thin.
“I heard a shot. I thought …”
“He missed,” she said. “And you ought
not to have interfered.”
Ought not … who talks like that? “Those
guys were going to kill you.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
“I was in no danger. I was fully in control until you happened by. Do your
police officers not tell you never to antagonize an armed intruder?” She
sighed. “If it had been anyone other than me, you would be dead right now. You
really ought to take more care.” She stood and turned to leave.
Author
Lisa Llamrei was
born in Toronto. She studied languages at York University. At various times,
she has been an actor, professional belly dancer and holistic nutritionist. She
presently lives in Durham region with her four daughters, and she works at a school
of holistic nutrition. Reflection
of the Gods is her first novel.
http://www.lisallamrei.com/
@LisaLlamrei
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7076527.Lisa_Llamrei
http://www.pinterest.com/lisallamrei/
.jpg)
