The Fireborn Chronicles: Revelations

The Fireborn Chronicles: Revelations

Book Three in The Fireborn Chronicles Series

by Mary Andrews

Genre: Young Adult Sci-Fi

Tags: science fiction, paranormal, The Fireborn Chronicles, Mary Andrews, YA series, space opera, Roma, PG-13

Release:July 27, 2012

Editor: Christine I. Speakman

Line Editor: Penny Ehrenkranz

Cover Designer: Marion Sipe

Words: 57575

Pages: 170

ISBN:  978-1-77127-117-2

Price:  $5.50

Back Cover:

PSIONIC SCI FI

The inevitable fusion of Man, Machine, and the Paranormal

After Earth's destruction, humans have scattered and spread across the universe. The peace is kept by a universal government. Four rogue talents unite to become an invincible Government Dark Ops team—the Nemesis Team.

But an unknown planet has turned up; a planet ruled by Oracles whose agents may be usurping The Government and suddenly, nothing is what it seems.

Follow the Nemesis Team and their uneasy allies as they race to unravel a reality not of their making before the strange world is annihilated by an asteroid.

Excerpt:

The eternal procession of worshipers ate away at him. Jumbled through millions of their eyes, he saw himself and his team poised above them. Fighting against an overwhelming flood of adoration, fear, hope, and awe, Ira found himself disoriented. It churned, smothering him with an unbearable intensity. The teeming crowd began to wear at his control. “I can’t take this,” he finally told Tristen and turned to leave.

She managed to slip her arm through his and held him back. “You heard what they told us. We have to do this. It is important to these people.”

Ira steeled himself against the onslaught in one last effort as he turned back to face the crowd. “Too many eyes,” he muttered, and Tristen closed hers to allow him reprieve.  The visual disorientation dissipated, leaving only what he could see with his own eyes, but his body and mind still reeled from the empathic assault. He disengaged from her arm to encircle her slight form within his, drawing her closer. Closing his eyes, he struggled to sharpen his focus, reaching out to encompass all the writhing consciousnesses around him—to telepathically hold them as one.

He spoke softly, barely audible, “Breathe in,” he said, and his words echoed across all the minds in the hall and beyond, all the way out into the cold lines of the waiting faithful. As one, they all inhaled deeply.

“Breathe out.” They exhaled.

“And in.”  They all fell into sync.

Ira opened his eyes. “Be at ease,” he whispered, and again, the words reverberated across their minds.

“It is done. You will leave now contented...and blessed.” Almost in unison, the crowd reversed and began to file away in silence.

Not until the hall had emptied did Tristen open her eyes and realize the Deridian brothers both stood focused on Ira.

Totally spent, Ira still stared, unseeing, out over the great empty hall.

“That was perfect,” Alice’s voice rang out, shattering the silence. “The perfect blessing from the Dark Angel, Irael. The networks are going to eat this up.”

Tristen studied her husband through the others. “We should leave now. You look as bad as you feel.” She felt his weight sag against her before pressing on toward the entrance.

“This will be enough for today, Miss Roberts.”

Nevon made it a point to get as close as possible to Ira in an attempt to help.

About the Author:

Mary Andrews, born in Salina, Kansas but raised in England, Hawaii, and Texas, was the eldest of seven children in a military family. Happily married for over fourteen years, she has three sons who have grown into good men with great families of their own.

Mary is an unconventional thinker who thrives ‘out of the box.’ Her favorite question is: WHY, since once you find that answer, everything else makes more sense and can be dealt with. She claims little fear of change: in fact, she has adventured through many career choices, testing both the waters and distant horizons before finally realizing a love for writing.

Currently residing in Lubbock, Texas Mary continues to follow her muse, or rather, document its whereabouts, from a recreational past through the Society for Creative Anachronisms to the barely unfolding universes in her mind. She heartily welcomes all input and comments at: http://mary-andrews.webs.com/

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