Angel Of Death: Book One Of The Chosen Chronicles - Plot & Excerpts
Slowly, he lifted out of sleep to stare bleary eyed at the cold, dead hearth. Not even the ashes stirred. Swallowing the dryness from his mouth he frowned. He could not remember the dream, except for its ending, but what worried him was the memories of those white faced demons were popping up again. Thankfully they were not back. Again the banging resounded through his flat, clearing his mind from sleep enough to realize that he was not in bed. In fact he lay on his stomach before the deceased fireplace with Notus’ journal as a pillow. Sitting up, he closed the book and placed it on the couch. Sometime during the day he had fallen asleep reading; what exactly, he could not remember. The journal entries were all a blur, except for the unbelievable confession. The lamps softly illuminated the dark room and the banging came again. Someone was at the door. Sweeping his long hair out of his face, he groggily got to his feet, securing the towel around his slender hips and nearly stumbled into the couch.
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