Beyond the Night by Joss Ware

Nonfiction 2

By Joss Ware

The 1st booklet in an excellent new paranormal sequence known as "electrifying...brilliantly conceived and carried out" (Library magazine) through Colleen Gleason, writing as Joss Ware. a guy without destiny . . . whilst Dr. Elliott Drake wakes from a mysterious fifty-year sleep, the area as he knew it's long gone. towns at the moment are desolate, and civilization is managed by way of lethal immortals. Stranger nonetheless is Elliott's impressive new "gift"--he has the facility to heal, however it comes with deadly outcomes. a lady with a previous . . . Jade slightly escaped the immortals and is now hell-bent on revenge. She trusts nobody . . . until eventually Elliott. His piercing gaze and tempting contact shatter her defenses, however the good-looking health professional turns out to have risky secrets and techniques of his personal. Is it secure to belief him along with her middle? in the event that they are to outlive during this darkish new international, Jade and Elliott needs to interact to struggle the forces that take them past chance. past wish.

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He, too, had been in the cave for fifty years, alone—and that was all he’d told them. Elliott and the others had not pressed him for more details—for it no longer mattered how he’d come to be there anymore than their story did. Elliott explained to Simon about the van, and the fact that the kids were from Envy. “These kids are lucky we even stopped here tonight,” he added, nodding at Simon. Normally, they’d travel till the sun went down, all the while listening—and sniffing the air—for the gangas, but Simon had sliced his leg on a rusted piece of metal and Elliott had insisted that it must be washed out with alcohol and bandaged.

Good fucking question. Where did you come from? An even better one. Elliott had been wondering that himself for the last six months—ever since he and his friends had emerged from a cave in Sedona to find the world completely and utterly changed . . and fifty years older than it had been when they went in. It was still impossible to comprehend. He rubbed his forehead, brushing the fringe of hair out of his eyes. It was the exact same length it had been fifty years and six months ago when he, Quent, and Wyatt had gone on what was supposed to be a weekend caving trip, led by a local guide nicknamed Fence and his partner.

They’re pretty fast but not too agile,” Elliott said. Damn. His fingers closed tightly, and he itched to go after them himself. Where had she come from? Did she know these kids? What was she doing, traveling about at night when the gangas were out? He wanted to meet her, the bold woman who’d torn through the overgrown town and trampled the gangas, then flashed a tantalizing bit of skin above her jeans as she barreled off in pursuit. That sexy little swell of a curve just above the ass. Christ, El, get a grip.

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