Broken Butterflies

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Authors: Shadow Stephens

BOOK: Broken Butterflies
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Copyright © 2012 by Shadow Stephens

Cover design by Donna Dull

Formatting by J. Titus

 

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

 

Find out more about the author and upcoming books at
www.shadowstephens.com
or follow her on Facebook and Twitter
https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/Shadowstephensbooks
,
https://twitter.com/#!/shadowstephens1

 

– Amazon Edition –

 

All rights reserved

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

A FATEFUL DAY

FORCED REALITY

CYCLES OF LIFE

SAME OLD THING

DISCOVERY CHANNEL

CONSTRUCTIVE CHAOS

UPTIGHT

IRIDESCENT

SEEING IS BELIEVING

DRIVING LESSONS

CROSS COUNTRY

CLOSING A DOOR

THE LONG JOURNEY HOME

NEW BEGINNINGS

CONFRONTING REALITY

INTO DREAMS

OUT OF THE WORLD AND INTO THE FIRE

THINGS THAT SHAKE US

TIME PASSES ON

CUSTODY

PREPARATIONS

IT NEVER ENDS

LEARNING THE PAST

THE PITFALLS OF ALL EVIL

WHAT DOESN’T KILL US

STRANGE REALITIES

SPEAK THE TRUTH

REVELATIONS

FILLING THE VOID

DEMONS WILL PLAY

LEARNING TO FLY

LOVE FINDS YOU

UPGRADING

REFRESHER

GHOST PARTICLES

THE SUMMONING

OF WAR

MIND GAMES

BUTTERFLY FIELDS

ON THE CREST ENEMIES APPROACH

AS THE MONTHS MOVE ON

 

--Malcolm, Macbeth Act IV, scene iii

 

 

Broken Butterflies is dedicated to all my fans who read and enjoyed Legion of Bats. It means the world to me.

This also goes out to those of you that dare to be different. Always remember who you are and that you don't need to fit into a mold.

 

Thanks to Nancy Felt and Liz Schulte for my edits.

Julie Titus you are a rockin formatter girl.

Donna Dull, your covers are amazing.

Mom and Tracey, thanks for giving this book one more read through.

Thanks to the people to make the deliciously refreshing Pepsi, without this I'm not sure my brain could function properly.

Special thanks to my friends and family who always encourage me.

 

Boarding the bullet train, Ilisha heaved her backpack onto her shoulder. “Damn it, why do I pack so much?” she muttered, as the bag slipped yet again.

She stumbled up the stairs, landing knees first on her bag. Picking herself up, hoping nobody noticed, she straightened her hair and shirt.

As she found her seat, she felt her cell vibrate in her pocket. “Hi, Mom.”

“Are you on your way?” her mother asked, a tinge of panic in her voice.

“Yes, I’ll be there soon.” Ilisha shook her head knowing her mom must be in panic mode.

“There’s so much to do before the funeral. Honey, I need your help.”

“I’m on the fastest train in the U.S.” Ilisha said.

“I don’t know why you won’t fly.”

“You know I’m afraid of flying.” Ilisha began to fidget with a button. Her mind filled with the image of oxygen masks falling and screaming people. “Look, I gotta go, I’ll be there soon.” Ilisha hung up.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

Ilisha slid her leather coat off and dropped it in the seat next to her. She straightened the ankle strap on her Manolo Blahniks, as she pulled her long black hair to one shoulder.

The overhead speaker system crackled and rang with a woman’s voice. “Welcome aboard the Habrock bullet train—your alternative to flight. Our trip from Columbus Ohio to Denver Colorado will take ten hours, fourteen minutes. Please sit back and relax. An attendant will be around to take food and drink orders shortly.”

Can I make that an extra stiff drink?
Ilisha opened her eyes to a man standing in the aisle. He smiled kindly, stuffing his bag above him. Sliding in the seat directly across, and facing her, he extended his hand. “Bram.”

“Ilisha Morrison.”

His deep sapphire eyes bore into her. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked. Something felt so familiar about him, almost like that feeling of coming home.

He didn’t answer, but an attendant rolled up with a drink cart. “Beverage?” she chimed a little too happy.

“Can I get a rum and coke? Make it a double.” The attendant reached beneath the cart and pulled out two tiny bottles of rum and poured them into a glass. When the soda was poured Ilisha reached out eagerly for the drink with two hands. “Come to mama,” she said, forgetting her question to Bram.

“Bad day?” Bram watched as she sucked on a tiny straw.

“You could say that.”

“I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“Actually, it won’t. I’m going to my grandma’s funeral and dealing with my mom.”

“What’s wrong with your mom?”

“Instead of grieving the loss of her mother, she’ll be making sure the good china is out.”

He smiled. “Maybe that’s her way of dealing with stress.”

“Actually it is, but it leaves me feeling more stress. Everything will need to be perfect.” She paused and took another drink. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her shed a tear, not even when my dad died.” Ilisha gave him a waning smile and tucked her glossy hair behind her ear. “And I just went totally TMI, sorry.”

“Not at all, I asked.” Bram said, giving a smile.

She turned her head toward the window to take in the scenery, but it flew by in a blur making her dizzy. Digging in her bag, she retrieved a Sudoku book. Lost in her puzzle, she didn’t realize Bram had spoken to her again.

“You have a very unusual name.”

“Huh?” She looked up from her puzzle as his words slowly soaked in.“Oh yeah, I could say the same thing about you.”

Could this guy get any better looking?
She bit down on the straw as her brown eyes scanned him. His black hair and black button down shirt brought out the color of his eyes. The cuffs of his fitted jeans rested atop his black boots. His shirt was un-tucked and his sleeves were rolled up his forearm. She blinked.
Perfect hair, perfect chin, and those eyes, wow. He dresses nice too.

“Do you trust me?” Bram asked, his rich baritone voice snapping her out of her thoughts.

“What?” she asked, crinkling her forehead in confusion.

“I need you to trust me, take my hand.”

Her head cocked to the side and she bit down on her lip when he stretched out his hand.

The train shook as if an earthquake threatened to derail it.

“Take it!” he shouted.

Though Bram seemed out of his mind, she felt as though something bad was about to happen. Ilisha slid her hand into his. Pulling her tight to his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. “Hey, what the—” she stopped speaking as illuminated butterflies appeared in the cabin. Ilisha’s eyes followed them as they drifted silently. Their wings lit the area with brilliant neon colors.

The overhead lights flickered as a massive impact threw people and luggage forward. Ilisha’s head slammed into Bram’s chin. She sucked in a breath at the stinging sensation. A couple on the other side of the aisle was ejected from their seats. They hit face first into the backs of the ones facing them. Those that braced themselves and weren’t jarred looked around with wide eyes.

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