TITLE OF MANUSCRIPT: LUMEN
GENRE: ADULT FANTASY
WORD COUNT: 125,000
Two small children, celestial beings reborn in human form, are all that stands between the dark reaper and his conquest of Earth. Hunted from birth and too young for their destiny, fate has placed them with the guardians best suited to protect them:
Copper is a national pariah, rendered barren. Dan Keller is the Noble heir who turned his back on his community, for her. Desperate for a child of their own, Copper and Dan accept a baby from a mysterious stranger, but Arianne is no ordinary little girl. That's a problem in a country like Edo, where the wrong birthright is a capitol offense—and now her hair is glowing.
The mercenary, Rhys Anders, is framed for murder and saddled with a toddler. He wants to foist his unwanted charge, Michael, on anyone else, but that changes when the wolf packs bow obeisance to the boy. Realizing that Michael is the true target of the danger that follows them, Rhys has a decision to make—give up everything he loves to keep Michael safe, or hand him off to a certain death.
With no idea their world is on the brink of a supernatural war, or that the best hope for survival is in their guiding hands, the Kellers and Rhys Anders must dodge daemons, outwit lemmings, and defy national rule all for the love of a child, not their own. It nearly falls apart as each guardian face their deepest fears to keep the children alive, because sometimes the daemon within is the most deadly.
FIRST 150 WORDS:
Rhys Anders should have ducked, but stubborn pride kept him unbent. He braced, however, for what whistled at him would hurt like hell. The oncoming fist charged with the force of a steed at full gallop, slamming his nose with a sickening crunch. His eyes watered. A searing pain spread, then dulled, and he gasped as the ballooning appendage joined his growing collection of damage. Bound and surrounded, he swayed—battling only for balance.
“Where is she!”
The cry was not so much a question as a primal roar.
The interrogator paced before him, a provoked lion moving with sinuous grace and panting with rage. Torchlight spilled over the stockade, burnishing sweat-soaked skin. A tawny mane crossed his captor’s face with ragged shadows, but did not hide the wrath-filled features.
Rhys cobbled a silent resolve. The night reeked of steel and bloodlust. Words would not change his fate.