Cut Here
By Azzurra Nox
Release Date:
02/13/15
YA
Paranormal/Urban Fantasy
Book Summary:
Sixteen-year-old
Lena Martin's idyllic world shatters the night her mother dies due to a hit and
run accident. Two years later, her dad relocates her from Italy to Los Angeles
to help her put behind the time spent in a psychiatric ward following her
mother's death. But the move only proves to be a fatal mistake. Shortly after
her arrival, the classmates of her new private school begin to commit suicide
under mysterious circumstances after reading a cult book called Cut Here.
Determined to
unravel the mystery behind the suicides, she bands together with loner Jonathan
Russe and outcast Hope Peters to figure out exactly what is happening, not
realizing that this places them under a dangerous radar. During this same time,
Lena falls for a mysterious and attractive guy named Michael, who is as equally
disarming as he's dangerous.
As her
attraction grows, so does the body count at St. Lucy Academy. Soon, Lena needs
to decide whether to stay away from the guy she's falling for, or to trust him.
Is Michael behind the suicides, or is he the key that can unlock the mystery
that can stop the bloodshed? Deceptions run high and Lena soon learns that
nothing is what it seems.
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Excerpt One:
Jon
wasn't sure what had awakened him, if it had been his usual nightmares or a
noise in particular. His ears were tuned attentively, trying to make out any
little sound. There was something strange about the air in the room. A vague
familiar scent lingered, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it, his brain was still
adjusting to being jolted out of sleep. There was no hint of light in the room.
It was dark. Pitch black. Not even the radio alarm on the bedside table glowered
its usual green hued numbers.
“I know
where you can find him,” a female voice cooed but he couldn’t make out who it
was in the shadows. His breathing shallow, and a cold sweat broke loose upon
his forehead. “I know you think of him every single day,” the voice continued.
The soft flutter of wings created a cool breeze in the room, and he heard some
of his papers on his desk fly off the flat surface. He rubbed his eyes. I
must be dreaming, he thought. This voice can't be real.
“Damn
nightmares,” Jon said in a cracked voice, his hand instinctively reaching out
for the glass of water on his bedside table to help him wake up. His lips
touched the glass, wetting them with the lukewarm liquid. He took a small sip
as his heart continued to pound in his chest like someone was shaking up a soda
can and it was ready to explode.
“I know
how you feel, Jonathan,” the female voice whispered softly.
“Who
are you?!” His head jerked in the direction of the sound, “How do you know my
name?” Suddenly his body tensed. He no longer felt secure. His hand reached out
for the lamp switch next to the bed. A hand grabbed his, “I wouldn’t do that if
I were you, unless you’re ready to truly see me.”
He
instantly recoiled, his back against the headboard. Heart pounding. Nerves
tingling.
“Why
are you here? You want money? What? What is it? What do you want?” his voice
shook a little.
“I have
no use of material things. What I want is much more valuable,” she placed her
hand on his chest. “Your heart is racing. You shouldn’t be afraid of me. I
won’t hurt you.”
Her
touch startled him and he let out a yelp.
“Then
let me see you,” his fingers fumbling with the light switch again. It slipped
in his clammy hand, and he cursed under his breath trying to grab hold of the
cord in the dark.
“I
wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the voice said softly, a chilly breeze filled
the room, his hair that usually hung down over his forehead in layers, swept
upwards from the air flow. “Unless you’re ready to see me.”
“Shut
up!” his fingers scraped along the cord till it came in contact with the switch
and he clicked on it. The room lit up in a brief moment and then sudden
darkness reigned again as the sound of broken glass shattered his nerves.
“I told
you, you're not ready to see me. Don’t even think about running, no one will
believe you,” her red eyes glowered. This is fear, he
thought, the inability to save yourself because you're too terrified.
“I saw
you that night at Santa Monica…”
“You did.
But your lady-friend couldn’t see me. Not everyone can see me,” he felt her
move closer to him. Her breath was against his cheek now. Before he had a
chance to react, her hand wrapped around his neck and he willed himself to move
but he felt transfixed, unable to lift a single limb.
About the Author
Born in Catania, Sicily, she has led a nomadic life
since birth. She has lived in various European cities and Cuba, and currently
resides in the Los Angeles area. Always an avid reader and writer from a young
age, she loved entertaining her friends with ghost stories. She loves horror
movies, cats, and a good rock show. She dislikes Mondays and chick-flicks. CUT
HERE, her debut paranormal urban fantasy was inspired by a nightmare the writer
had a few years ago. Some of her favourite authors include Anne Rice, Oscar
Wilde, Chuck Palahniuk, and Isabella Santacroce.
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