Into the Blind
by Helen
Rena
Release Date: 06/2014
Summary from Goodreads:
In a world where everyone is gifted, be it in dancing,
lightning-bringing, or death-giving, Ever is born…all-powerful.
For this gift, she is kidnapped and trafficked at birth. Fifteen years later, Ever still hasn’t seen even a glimmer of her powerful gift. Locked in an abandoned mall in New York City, she’s fighting to survive her captivity, her brutal guards, and the other gifted kids in her cell. She would do anything to escape.
Fox is gifted with time manipulation. Like Ever, he hasn’t come into his gift yet; like Ever, he hates the mall; and like Ever, he longs to be free. But there’s one thing he values above his freedom—it’s Ever’s love…
…yet, when the two make a desperate attempt to escape, this attempt proves so dark and twisted that it just might destroy Ever’s love for Fox.
For this gift, she is kidnapped and trafficked at birth. Fifteen years later, Ever still hasn’t seen even a glimmer of her powerful gift. Locked in an abandoned mall in New York City, she’s fighting to survive her captivity, her brutal guards, and the other gifted kids in her cell. She would do anything to escape.
Fox is gifted with time manipulation. Like Ever, he hasn’t come into his gift yet; like Ever, he hates the mall; and like Ever, he longs to be free. But there’s one thing he values above his freedom—it’s Ever’s love…
…yet, when the two make a desperate attempt to escape, this attempt proves so dark and twisted that it just might destroy Ever’s love for Fox.
Buy link: Amazon
Excerpt:
The green cement floor under my feet wasn’t doing anything. I mean, I wasn’t sure what exactly was supposed to happen, but Sinna was looking down at the floor with so much focus. Presently, he raised his eyes at me, and since I’m blind but have this highly fortunate ability to see what the people around me are looking at, I saw the object of his gaze: myself. Together, Sin and I surveyed my short figure, my pale, heart-shaped face, and my hopelessly tangled white hair. Sinna sighed as if I were somehow wrong for what we were doing.
“Ever, I can’t,” he said finally. “It’s too dangerous.”
I made a
funny pleading face. I wanted to joke, to ask him how a nightmare could be
dangerous. It was just a hallucination. A waking vision that temporarily
blocked out one’s reality. And if Sin succeeded in making it for me now, he’d
be able to make one for our guards later. We could be free in half an hour! But
I suddenly choked up. The room around me—the cold cement walls the color of
gangrene, the ugly kidney-shaped wooden counter, and the piles of books,
magazines, newspapers, and journals (for this room used to be a mall
bookstore)—all of it began to suffocate me. I had to get out of here. I had to
be free. How I wished I could make Sinna feel this crushing need!
He squeezed
my shoulder: he understood. Then, sounding like the Collegiate Thesaurus he’d used for a pillow for the last several
years, he said, “Very well, Ever-Jezebel. Do you recall what I have imparted to
you not three minutes ago?”
I nodded and
made my voice sound deeper to show Sinna that I was quoting him, “Ever, you
ought to remember three things. First, if you notice that something, even the
tiniest and most insignificant detail, deviates from the nightmare we have
agreed upon, please stop me. Second, even if everything does go according to
the plan, but you feel that you wish to be released from the nightmare, please
stop me. Third, once in a nightmare, you will not be able to see through my
eyes, and fourth, knowing that it’s not real is not going to help you in
there.” I switched to my own voice, “Did I get it right?”
The sounds of
steps and whacks came from the back room, where Sinna’s girlfriend was teaching
my boyfriend a new method of killing people. By breaking their necks with the
edge of a palm. I only hoped Demi wouldn’t kill Fox because that girl was
freakishly strong.
Sinna
chuckled. “Yes, it was all correct, although I do not believe I sounded even
fractionally this excited. However, let’s proceed. An ocean. Blue and warm.
With a school of fish that looks like the one on the cover of the Marine Atlas.” The last words he
muttered quietly under his nose, clearly to remind himself of what I’d
requested to see in a nightmare.
He backed away
from me…a few steps…then a few more…then all the way to the massive steel door
that stood between us and freedom. He stopped there, and again, we watched the
dusty green floor by my feet.
Suddenly it
quaked.
Yes, right under
my feet.
The snapshots I
was getting through Sinna’s eyes vanished, but somehow, impossibly, improbably,
I was still seeing the floor by my feet. It quaked once again.
On its third
quake, a coffin-sized segment of the green floor in front of me ballooned up.
In perfect silence, it wriggled and jerked from side to side, as if something
large was pushing our floor from beneath.
My heart sang with
excitement: it was happening, it was here, the miracle that would set us free.
The bulge
gave one last shuddering twitch and then, still silently, cracked open. A gush
of clear, cold liquid shot straight up out of the hole, wetting my chin, my
nose, and a lock of hair that had slipped out of my ponytail. As I wiped my
face, wondering why the liquid smelled of rubbing alcohol, the water spurt hit
the ceiling and came back down, this time soaking me head to toe, and I
couldn’t believe it was just a vision. My skin felt wet. My hair and dress
clung to me as if they were truly soaked, and the only word I could use to
describe this fluid was “real.”
More water
came through the crack in the floor, and then more still. Only it didn’t
spread—it stayed around me in a large circular puddle. I hopped up and down in
it.
“I’m loving
this!” I told Sinna, not sure if I would get a response—he hadn’t specified if
we’d be able to talk while I was inside a nightmare. But I did hear from him:
he chortled and said, “Just don’t attempt to swim in this reservoir, Ever. It’s
not real.”
The water
kept on rising. Soon it touched my chin, and I hastened to press my lips
together, which wasn’t easy because I was grinning so hard. Then I had to pinch
my nose shut. Since I was a bit late on that, a little water trickled down my
throat, and it tasted exactly like the tap stuff I drank every day. So…not a
salty ocean after all? But no matter, it was still a fun nightmare.
A small, paper-white ghost flitted past me...
Praise for Into the Blind:
“A thrilling story…a must-read for the
adventurous of heart!” —Gina Henning, author of Going Pecans
“…genuinely original and engaging…”
—Jeanne Dallman, author of The Hour of Separation
“…unique voice…unique world…unique
premise…” —Jon VanZile, editor of Dragon Tree Press
About the Author
Helen Rena loves
reading and writing novels. And short stories. And flash fiction. She has a
Ph.D. in Comparative Literature, and a vast collection of books and green
bottles. She is still not sure why green bottles. She lives in Southern Oregon
with her husband and two children. Please visit her at helenrena.com Goodreads Twitter or FB
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