Awakening: Rise as the Fall Unfolds
Carissa Andrews
Publication date: November 12th 2019
Genres: Science Fiction, Thriller, Urban Fantasy
The final five angels have been located and averting the apocalypse means somehow recreating the birth of Christ.
Morgan never expected total annihilation would come down to the actions of five misfit angels. But as each one’s hidden angelic power unfolds, so does the sinister truth… the entire Jesus storyline has been wiped from the collective consciousness, leaving a tear in the fabric of reality.
The final five need to figure out how their gifts are meant to fit together in order to set things right. However, coming to terms with the responsibility resting on their shoulders doesn’t come easy. To make matters worse, the demons have found them and unless they get on the same page quickly, the darkness will consume them all. But how can they make things right when the thing that’s missing happened more than 2000 years ago?
One thing’s for sure. If they fail, existence ceases.
If you love books like Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s American Gods or Good Omens, Joe Hill’s Nos4A2, or Stephen King’s (Richard Bachman) Blaze, then you’ll love Awakening!
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Author Bio:Read an Excerpt
Carissa Andrews is a freelance writer, award-winning graphic designer, indie author coach, and internationally bestselling author from Crosslake Minnesota. She is the President of the Lakes Area Writers Alliance, a 501c3 nonprofit for writers in central Minnesota, as well as the owner of Author Revolution, LLC – an organization geared toward helping new authors navigate the waters of indie publishing. For 2020, Carissa has her sights set on becoming a NYT or USA Today Bestselling Author with her upcoming series, The Windhaven Witches. You can learn more about Carissa, her services, and her upcoming novels by visiting her websites: www.carissaandrews.com, www.authorrevolution.org, or authorrevolution.teachable.com
“Did you see what happened?” I say, craning around in my seat to get a better look.
“No, I wasn’t paying enough attention. What can you see, Cass? Can you hop out and take a look? Has anyone been hurt?” he says, diving straight into his “fixer” mode.
“You’re not that kind of doctor, Braham. You impregnate women for a living,” I say, lowering my eyebrows.
“Yes, but I still went through med school and know my way around blood, which is more than I can say for most people. Check, please,” he pleads.
“How can I say no to those eyes?” I say, nodding. I reach for my own handle and thrust the door open.
Before I can hop out, tires screech, and a biker comes to a burnt halt beside me. The front tire grazes my open door with a barely audible thump. In the two-second silence that follows, my door wobbles back and forth quietly.
“Are you fucking insane? Don’t you know how to look before you open your damn car door?” the woman yells, getting off her motorcycle and flinging her helmet to the ground. Cropped, curly blond hair flies wildly around her face, and her ice-blue eyes flash angrily.
My face flushes, and I feel the weight of eyes on me as other drivers and passengers turn to look in our direction.
“I—I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be moving so fast. We’ve been in a deadlock for…There was an explosion. I was trying to get out to see what was going on,” I say in an attempt to justify myself.
I step out of the vehicle, squaring up with her in the hopes of getting on a common footing.
“No shit, Sherlock. Why do you think I was making my way forward in this mess?” she spits, rolling her eyes. “You’re damn lucky I noticed your door opening in time or you’d be scraping me up off the pavement over there.”
Her long, thin arm extends as she points to the asphalt ahead.
I shudder the thought away.
“I’m really sorry,” I begin. “You’re right—”
“Hey, I asked her to check to see if anyone needed help. If you’re gonna be pissed at anyone, you can be pissed at me,” Braham says, climbing over the middle console and emerging from the vehicle.
The woman rolls her eyes—a scary effect because it makes her look possessed.
“Pretty sure your woman here can manage for herself. Unless you grabbed her hand and opened the door for her, it was her own idiocy that nearly killed me, and hers alone,” the biker chick laments. “Now, if you could just get back in your vehicle, I’d like to be on my way.”
“We’re coming with you,” Braham says, standing shoulder to shoulder with me.
I reach out for the edge of my car door, throwing her a glance as I wait for the stranger to mount up and reverse her bike.
“It’s a free world, so far as I’m aware. Do what you want, but you’re not coming with me,” she says, grabbing her helmet and walking her bike far enough back for the door to close.
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