#Music Monday: Coma White

“Greta floated in nothingness – weightless – lost in a dream”

~BloodBound

Feeling a little comatose myself today. But fight scenes are ahead! Full speed til May!


Check below for a quick sneak peek of BloodBound (The Fraktioneers #2)…

Greta practiced solidity like a game, watching her hands as they phased from molecules to a vague outline of fingers before reverting back. The whiteness that was her prison was clear and featureless, like staring at a blank wall for weeks on end. She huffed a breath and flitted back and forth in a mime of pacing. When would Papa come? When would he let her out of this fucking place?

She’d mastered the doors – or the Wandern, as he’d called them – just as he’d asked. What else did she need to know?

“So much, minn dyrr,” a feminine voice called out, the words echoing through her mind. “So much more.”

“Who are you?”

“Come. Open the door and see.”

Thoughts and warnings whirred through Greta and all around her. Should she? What if it was a trap? Or a test? She buzzed around her white cell, a tense knot of molecules.

“Come,” the voice said brightly, “I mean you no harm.”

With a deep, hard swallow, Greta felt for the threads all around her. She found the one she wanted and willed herself to grasp it, both hands becoming solid as soon as the thrumming thread was clutched within them. And slowly. Minutely. She began to split the thread in two, imaginary sweat forming on her imaginary brow. She pushed the pieces apart until there was an opening just wide enough for her to slip through.

“That’s it,” she heard from the other side of the portal. “Come.”

Greta thrust out the part of her structure that felt like a leg, her flesh forming on the other side of the opening. Another leg followed. Then hips. A torso. A head. And finally, both arms when she took a deep breath and let go.

She spun quickly to make sure the way was still open and gasped at the floating chasm she’d left behind. It looked like a tear in space, no larger than her palm. The edges shimmered with an ever changing prism of colors, like an oil slick on water.

“Very good, minn dyrr!” The woman laughed and clapped her hands. Greta whirled on her heel and found herself face to face with… herself.

BloodBound © 2016 Lu J Whitley

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