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Monday, April 15, 2024

Of Outer Gods and Fallen Angels – #Fantasy #Reincarnation #Lovecraft @ReadersRoost

Fallen anthology book cover

Book Blurb

Fall from grace…

In a twist of fate, these angels have done the unforgivable and have been kicked out. Some are left to roam freely while they plot their revenge. Some are immediately given a new job as a form of punishment. Some are even innocent and try to prove it themselves. But can any of them find their new purpose in the end?

Featuring stories by Michael Paige, Matthew Fryer, Bruno Lombardi, Barend Nieuwstraten III, Kelly Barker, A.E. Lowan, C.L. Hart, and J.E. Feldman.

Of Outer Gods and Fallen Angels by C.L. Hart

Gerry Clifford appears to be simply a small, frail older man who has fallen victim to early-onset dementia.

Yadira Root appears to be an impossibly ancient woman who volunteers her time at the care center where people like Gerry live out their final days.

A conversation between the pair reveals unexpected truths about both of them.

Buy Link

http://books2read.com/DSPFallen

Excerpt

For eons, I have been looking for a way to right the wrongs committed at the time of my birth. I have once again encountered Malak, son of Lucifer; he with his heart burst open like a snowdrop’s pouting petals. However, to my dismay, Malak, the world-builder and shadow-weaver, has forgotten who he was. He is bound to a broken, dying body, although at night, his soul roams free.

In our first meeting at the care center where he now resides, I approached Malak cautiously, unsure of how he would respond to my presence. Bewildered disorientation had replaced the once alert, inquisitive look in his eyes. Like a spark struggling to ignite, I noted a faint glimmer of recognition, but it was obscured by the murk of confusion overtaking his decaying memory.

"Malak," I said softly as I took his hands in mine. "It's your old friend Yadira. Do you remember who you once were? World-builder, shadow weaver, beloved son of Lucifer."

It was evident from his expression that his mind was seeking an elusive memory. A longing for understanding replaced his puzzlement.

"Who... who am I?" he mumbled, his voice feeble and uncertain. "I feel like fragments of a shattered mirror, lost in a labyrinth of forgotten dreams."

A pang of sympathy pierced my heart. Seeing this brilliant being trapped in a decaying vessel, his bright, inquisitive soul longing for release, was tragic. I took his trembling hand in mine, hoping my touch would serve as an anchor, reconnecting him to his forgotten self.

"Malak, you were once a weaver of worlds, a creator of infinite possibilities," I explained. "Your mind held the secrets of the cosmos, and your hands shaped realms beyond imagination."

Despite the fragility of his body, a spark of ancient power flickered within him as he struggled to break free from the fog of forgetfulness.

"I remember whispers of worlds born from the rhythm of my thoughts," he murmured. "Visions of beauty and darkness once flowed through me like a river of eternal creation."

I continued to paint a picture of his former existence, hoping to unleash the dormant power lying buried deep within.

"Malak, reclaim your identity," I urged. "I will help you mend the fractures in your soul, reuniting the shattered fragments, and restoring the balance disrupted long ago. The broken body that confines you is insignificant compared to the boundless potential within. The key to redemption and rectification lies in you. Please assist me in redressing the wrongs of the past. With you healed and my parents reunited, we will forge a future where your power, reclaimed and revitalized, can help restore balance to the cosmos."

About the Author

C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should Not Be.

When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes will be considered palatable.

Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch horrors.

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1 comment:

Lisabet Sarai said...

This sounds great, CL!

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