Title:
The Color of Clouds
Author: J.C.
Whyte
Genre: Sci-Fi /
Paranormal Mystery / Thriller
Pedro’s on a mission. But not your everyday, run-of-the-mill
type mission. Because Pedro is dead.
That’s right. Dead.
Spirit guide Pedro normally busies himself with conveying
messages from departed loved ones through a psychic named Gwen. But when he
encounters a recently deceased teenager, the boy’s anguish just about breaks
Pedro’s heart. So the spirit guide decides to try and help this boy. Yet
meddling in the affairs of the living is a troublesome business, as Pedro soon
discovers.
Nevertheless, he convinces Gwen to take an ocean voyage, and
that’s when the trouble begins. Within days of leaving port, two passengers on
the cruise ship fall into a mysterious coma. Gwen seeks Pedro’s help to restore
these passengers, but natural as well as unnatural
obstacles keep getting in the way. And by the time the ship docks in Honolulu,
the still-living are flat out scrambling for their lives!
A playful blend of science fiction and the paranormal, The Color of Clouds offers a glimpse
into the unseen world while taking the reader on an extraordinary ride. The
adventure includes danger, mystery, humor, sweet romance and even a dash of
thriller.
But the clouds are not what you think.
Author Bio
J.C. Whyte
discovered her love for writing while still in elementary school, creating
children’s stories. But as an adult, J.C. had to face the harsh reality that
such writing seldom pays the bills. So she earned degrees in both Journalism
and Communications, and then turned to Public Relations, where for ten years
she focused her creative energies into feature writing.
After
marriage, kids, several more degrees and occupations (including stints as a
travel agent and paralegal), J. C. entered law school. While there, she became
a columnist for the school newsletter and later, one of her humorous articles
was even published in The National Jurist.
Graduating
and passing the Bar, J.C. realized within a few short years that creative
writing was still what made her heart sing. So now, as a grandma, she has
returned to where her life’s calling began, beginning in 2013 with publication
of her children’s book Karmack and
now in 2015 with her first novel for adults, The Color of Clouds.
Links
MuseItUp Publishing page: https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/museitup/sci-fi/space-opera/the-color-of-clouds-detail
Barnes & Noble page: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-color-of-clouds-jc-whyte/1121341248?ean=2940151717465
Book
Excerpts
Excerpt #1
There was an element of danger in these dives,
especially because of the predatory sharks in the area. Yet it was unlikely a
shark would attack the divers. Tiger and Galapagos sharks were the most
aggressive, but even they preferred fish, turtles, and seals to humans. So
although he felt pretty confident, Drew still kept one eye on Carly.
But as the six divers began their survey, a strange
light lit up one end of the reef, diffusing illumination as if a floodlight
were shining upon it. This light was also inching closer and closer to the
divers. When it was near enough to touch, Drew stuck his arm into the light and
instantly the arm disappeared inside it. Frightened, he quickly withdrew his
limb. Yet now the arm felt dead as it dangled at his side, refusing to respond
to commands.
Carly was too busy taking measurements to notice. But
the light kept moving. And before Drew could act, it fully engulfed his wife.
She instantly collapsed, dropped from the reef and started to drift into deeper
water. He charged after her, kicking harder than he knew he could. But with
dogged determination and a single full-functioning arm, he managed to bring
Carly’s limp body to the water’s surface.
Drew was now in a full-blown panic. Reaching the
boat, he shouted for help; the others quickly pulled Carly on board.
“What happened?” asked one of the crewmen.
“I...I don’t know. Some mysterious light...” Drew
coughed and gulped some air. “It passed over her, and she...” He shook his head
in disbelief.
“Still breathing,” noted another crewman as he removed
her mouthpiece from around her neck and pulled off her oxygen tank.
When Drew lifted Carly’s mask with his good hand, he
was stunned to see her blank-looking eyes staring wide open at him.
Excerpt #2
“Hey,
where are we?” Sylvie was speaking, but her voice sounded different,
far away. Ernst wondered if the fog was simply muffling it. He couldn’t see
much of anything, but every few seconds a flash of color pierced through the
fog. A bright, red flash of color.
“Can you
hear me, Ernie?”
“I hear
you, Sylvie. But I do not see you.” His own voice seemed different
too. Yet Sylvie got the message.
“I’m
here, Ernie. Come and get me.”
“Where,
Sylvie? Where are you?”
“Don’t
know—everything looks so different around here. What happened? Where’d we go?
Ernie, I’m scared!”
As Sylvie said this, Ernst saw fiery sparks cutting
through the fog just ahead of him. “I
see sparks, Sylvie. Und lots of color. What has happened to the
night?”
“Something
musta happened, Ernie. Maybe an explosion. Oh God, the ship blew up. That’s why
all these sparks. Hey, where the heck are you?”
“I see you now, Sylvie. Straight ahead. Walk
toward me, straight ahead.”
“I only see sparks. But I’m walking, I think.
Moving...straight ahead.”
Ernst moved forward too and Sylvie was soon right
before him. Sylvie reached out a hand to touch him, but it passed right
through. “Sylvie, your hand...it went through my chest.”
“Oh God,
Ernie. We must be dead.”
“But
how? We were just on our balcony...”
“That
thing...that long, lighted thing...musta been some kind of...I dunno what. But
we’re dead, Ernie. That’s the only explanation.”
Ernst took a good look around him. What he originally
believed to be fog now resembled clouds, and they were everywhere. Some seemed
to contain a mixture of colors while others appeared a solid shade. The clouds
constantly shifted in size and shape as they oozed around and through the
couple. It reminded Ernst of those globs inside of lava lamps.
He had to focus hard to see past all the clouds. Only
when he held his mind steady, forcing it to see beyond them, did Ernst realize
he and Sylvie were still on their own veranda.
“Sylvie,
I see us. Our bodies are still in the deckchairs. Can you see?”
“Heck,
I can barely see you.”
“Try
concentrating. Force yourself to see...through all the clouds...”
Sylvie furrowed her brow to concentrate. Within a few
seconds, she too could see what Ernst saw—two people in formalwear lying in
deckchairs. “Will you look at that.”
“Ya, we
look rather spooky, with our eyes open.”
Excerpt #3
I’m what you call dead. That’s right—dead. And I been
that way a long time.
Still hanging around though. Mostly because of my
job. Guess you could say I’m self-employed.
What I do is pass along messages through a psychic
named Gwen. She’s a great gal who helps people get over the loss of their loved
ones. She and I connect, so
to speak, to let the deceased communicate messages back to the living. Kind of
helps, you know, with the grieving and all.
But first let me explain something about being a
spirit guide (that’s what you living people call me). I admit I’m no angel, and
I do occasionally fudge things. Not a lot, mind you, because meddling in the
affairs of the living is a big no-no. Really frowned on by the higher-ups. See,
we spirit guides are only allowed to meddle if some accident blows people way
off course. Of their lives, that is. But that’s exactly what happened in the
story I’m about to relate.
Now it all took place some years back. Not decades,
mind you, just back (being
dead, I tend to lose track of time). But trust me—everything’s true and
accurate in this story. That’s because the dimension I now inhabit allows
unlimited access to information. So I got the inside scoop on the story.
But let me start at the beginning. This teenager,
see, he passed over. I mean, of course, he died.
But the way he died was very troubling to the boy. Because painful
issues were left unresolved. And it was driving this kid crazy. So he found me.
And wouldn’t you know, his story just broke my heart. Because he reminded me of
myself at that age, back when I was a young hooligan in the early part of the
twentieth century.
This kid told me all about the big blowup he’d had
with his dad, and what resulted from it. Poor kid—to have your life cut short
like that. I figured that was plenty enough for the boy to handle. But having
to witness the guilt and sorrow his death caused those left behind...well, I
could plainly see this was killing the kid—in a manner of speaking, of course.
So I agreed to help. And that was what sent me off on
a very unusual journey. Actually, it was more like an adventure involving a
whole lot of still-living people.
Now from the viewpoint of the living, my journey really
began with the cruise ship Viking Maiden. It was leaving port in Sydney,
Australia for a twenty-one day ocean crossing to San Diego when the captain
received weather reports of developing storms—typhoons, really—forming in the
South Pacific. So the captain decided to alter the Maiden’s course to avoid the
storms. This decision would take the ship hundreds of miles north of its
scheduled route.
Oh. Forgive me for not introducing myself—name’s
Pedro.
No comments:
Post a Comment