Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Nadia Scrieva

  Para looked up in surprise.

  Sakra smiled. “I love you much, much more. Your grandfather was a man of legend, and I see so much of him when I look at you. He sacrificed his life for us, but what you might not know is that he was flawed as well. You were not old enough to remember his mistakes; you only hear of his victories. Now, consider Vincent—what a headstrong man! Just one glance will reveal his impetuous, imprudent nature. Yet your father is a hero, who acts only for our benefit and safety. You cannot deny who you are just as we cannot deny who Vincent is—and there is a great deal of Vincent in you. There is a great deal of Kaden Burnson in you. You are an extraordinary little culmination of the best people I have ever known.”

  Tears were gathering in her eyes. “Thank you, Sakra. Thank you for accepting me. I just—I really hate the thought that I might be disappointing you.”

  “Disappointing me? Child, you have been entertaining me. I’ve even tried to help a little,” he said, giving her a sly wink.

  “Help?” she said, brushing away the tears. She knew she would have to tell him about Suja sooner or later, and she could not keep stalling. “What do you mean?”

  “In my own little way, I have used magick to try to keep your loved ones from learning the truth of who you are.”

  “Really?” she gasped.

  “I shouldn’t meddle, but it’s really far too delightful not to!”

  Para could not restrain herself from allowing a full-bodied laugh to break through her tears. She clutched at her broken ribs as she shook from humor at Sakra’s confession.

  Sakra moved his hands to her ribcage to heal the wounds. “I told you, Thorn and Ash were the worst rascals when they were boys. It’s rather nice to see them getting the short end of the stick for a change, and having to deal with cleaning up their own messes.”

  Para chewed her lip as the mystic healed the last of her wounds. She could not stall any longer. “There is something I need to tell you,” Para said softly. “It’s about Zvarin.”

  “Yes? I am all ears.”

  She hesitated. “He said that he did something…”

  “Yes?”

  Para paused, inhaling deeply. “Um, he has this numinous power that allows him to look in on any one of us for up to five minutes. Do you think that there’s any—any way we can erect a psychic firewall of sorts to block him from doing this? If he can see everything that happens on Earth for the next two years then we have no chance of defeating him.”

  “That’s a very good point and interesting idea, Para. I will see what I can do—it might be easier to block specific people from Zvarin’s access than to block the whole planet. That way if you went to train on other planets, like you sometimes do, he still couldn’t infiltrate your mind.”

  She nodded miserably, looking around in dismay. She could not stall any longer. Sakra deserved to know the truth. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted with a sob. Her eyes filled again and she placed her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What is it, child?”

  “It’s Suja. I don’t know how to tell you this—but your wife is dead.”

  Sakra remained very silent and still upon receiving this news. Finally, he nodded slowly. “I know.”

  “You know?” she asked tearfully.

  “With the connection I shared with Suja, of course I would know the instant that she was killed.” Sakra clasped his hands in his lap, his large embroidered sleeves crisscrossing and hiding his hands from view. “What I do not know is how exactly she died. It happened too far away for me to get a clear picture. If you could enlighten me on the circumstances, I would be very grateful.”

  Para found herself staring at his ornate sleeves, for she could not meet his eyes. “Zvarin told me that he killed his sister with toxic flames, poisoning her prana and burning away her vital life force. He said that once she expired, he fed her remains to rats.”

  “Suja deserved better,” Sakra said through gritted teeth. “She was evil as fuck, but she was still my wife!”

  “I’m so sorry,” Para said again.

  “Don’t worry,” Sakra said, lifting one of his hands to make a casual wave of dismissal. “It will take a great effort, but I will bring her back.”

  “Resuscitation?” Para asked in wonder. “Can you really do that?”

  “It is one of the most challenging incantations. The procedure often takes years of meditation. I have never been successful, but this time, I will be. I have no choice,” Sakra said simply. “Maybe when I have returned her life, Suja will understand that I really do love her. Maybe she will change her ways.”

  “I hope so,” Para said softly. “For some reason, I liked Suja.”

  “She liked you too. I can’t imagine she really meant for things to get so out of hand. Could the woman I married really have intended to destroy our home with a super-comet? I still believe that she was just playing games; just seeking attention. She just wanted to annoy me.”

  “Destroying the Earth would have been annoying,” Para admitted. “Do you really think that all of this was just Suja throwing a temper tantrum? Because she created a pretty big mess and got herself killed.”

  “She was just trying to find herself,” Sakra said quietly. “Just like you are, Para. I suppose that after so many years of marriage she felt jaded, weary, and unhappy.”

  Para nodded. “Kind of like the deva version of Eat, Pray, Love?”

  “Yes! For the record, I think Julia Roberts is so gorgeous. I once asked Suja to—never mind.” Sakra cleared his throat. “You know this better than anyone, Para: When a goddess throws a temper tantrum, entire worlds will shake beneath her feet.”

  “I guess I do know that,” Para answered with guilt. “Sakra, if you need my help with reviving Suja—if I can help in any way at all, I would be happy to try. I don’t have too much in the way of cabalistic power, but I suppose I have some natural capacity. The mind reading and the dreams and such.”

  “You have much more potential than you even realize,” he told her. “I will call on you if I need your assistance with reviving my wife. For now, I would appreciate if you didn’t tell Vincent about my intentions.”

  “I promise that I won’t,” Para said earnestly. She was not sure whether it was a good idea to revive Suja, but the Lord of Devas had supported her, and she knew she needed to support him. “Thank you for everything, Sakra. Thank you for healing me.”

  “No, thank you! Thanks for giving me a good laugh earlier when you declared you were from the future.” He chuckled in remembrance.

  “They probably would have figured it out if it weren’t for you leading them away from the truth,” she said gratefully.

  “By no means! You’re quite the skillful liar,” he said.

  “A noble trait I’m sure,” she said with amusement. “I should probably get back home. In addition to jonesing for my bed, I’m dying to change out of this tattered dress and into something clean and… not tattered.”

  “Oh, I can help with that too,” Sakra offered. He extended his arms and a gentle orange glow surrounded her for a moment before her dress was returned to its original glory.

  She squealed, and launched herself forward to throw her arms around the mystic. “Oh my god! You fixed my dress!”

  “Yep,” he said cheerfully hugging her back. “I’m your god and I fixed your dress!”

  She laughed, running her fingers over the Swarovski crystals. “You’re a darling! I still think I should change out of this, though. So far it seriously seems like it only has given me really rotten luck.”

  “You humans and your little superstitions about luck,” Sakra said, curiously. “So interesting. I’m pushing fifteen centuries here and I still don’t understand it.”

  Para and Sakra said their goodbyes and hugged again before Para dove off the mountain temple. She was still too scared to use her teleportation technique to get home, but she did not mind the long flight. She had been up all night, and the sun was now rising on the hor
izon. She flew towards it, making joyful loops in the air. She had been healed. Her broken bones had all been healed, but more importantly, she also felt that her soul had been healed from the trauma of feeling violated by Zvarin. She had known that Sakra would be able to give her that feeling of peace.

  And best of all, he had healed her dress.

  She flew through the open sky, tilting her face to allow the first rays of sunlight to wash over her skin. The crisp breeze from her flight rustled her long indigo locks. She felt like laughing and shouting, so she did. She had looked the devil in the face, spat upon him, and lived to talk about it.

  And she was one person. A new, whole person.

  “I’m alive!” she shouted into the empty sky jubilantly. The regular sunrise of a common earth morning had never seemed so glorious to her. She felt euphoria wash over her with unrestrained laughter. She was excited to face a fresh, beautiful new day. Although she had seen many days, she knew she would appreciate this one more than all others. This would be her first chance at living as a complete, unbroken being. If anything good had come from the horrors of the night, it was this gift of her fused and fortified soul. Para felt tears of joy prickle her eyes. She threw her head back and shouted into the endless expanse of blue sky:

  “I am born!”

  It was the first day of the rest of her life, and she couldn’t wait to know herself.

  Coming soon:

  Book #4, Paradox

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  A Note from the Author

  Dear Reader,

  When I first wrote this story, back in the summer of 2011, I was nervous about the almost-rape scene. I had never written something quite so emotionally upsetting, and I was worried that it would offend my audience. Before posting it, I asked a few people to look it over and give me their approval. One of my readers from Louisiana was very affected by the scene and she shared her personal story of being raped at fifteen. She told me that she found a message of strength in the graphic exchange between Para and Zvarin, and that she saw it as a reminder to fight back and not take abuse sitting down. I was moved by her story, and thanks to her words I gained the confidence to keep the scene the way I had written it, and not to water it down or remove it completely.

  I really hope you enjoyed this novel! I must apologize for being unable to give you a conventional and neatly-packaged happy ending this time. The story is far from over. I love to keep exploring the lives of the characters through various challenging situations, and thus I have difficulty confining myself to a trilogy. This book represents the first time that Para has truly been humbled and taken down a few notches, and it was definitely life-changing for her. These events will motivate a real shift in her psyche which will be visible in her actions in the upcoming stories. I have the material already written for at least one more book, and then two more which are planned before the ultimate ending. It looks like this will be the way it goes:

  #4. Paradox

  #5. Parasite

  #6. Paradise

  Depending on how long the story winds up being, I might have to sneak in another book and extend it to seven. The events which need to unfold are clear in my mind, and I am very eager to approach the absolute ending. In the next book, Para will finally get her revenge, and it will be exactly what she imagined. However, it won’t feel as wonderful as she imagined, and she’ll have to deal with the repercussions.

  In the fifth book, a loved one’s death will inspire Para to realize that she can no longer stay joined together. When she tries to separate, she discovers that it isn’t quite so easy. Pax and Amara will both become gravely ill and unable to exist on their own without being merged—it will be similar to the symptoms of drug or alcohol withdrawal. I really can’t wait to get to that point of the story, for I planned it out well over a year ago! When Pax and Amara are in their greatest moment of need, Thorn and Ash will need to come through for the girls—as they always do.

  Of course, there are many surprises in store when it comes to Zvarin. He is a frustrating villain who is plenty of fun to work with, and you better believe that he will be haunting Para for a while. Does anyone else feel bad for Suja? Her death was a bit unexpected for me. I know I’m the writer, but I feel like Zvarin really took control there and directed the story the way he wanted it to go. This reminds me! I have some fun facts about the story:

  Zvarin’s composition (being made from a hundred men) is inspired by the lyrics of the song “Africa” by Toto. Go listen to it, and you’ll see what I mean. (I’m not sure if I’m allowed to quote it here, due to copyright law!)

  “I am born” is the title of the first chapter of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. We English Majors like to sneak in silly little allusions like that. ;)

  If you’ve gotten this far, it means that I have tricked you into reading poetry! No one seems to like poetry anymore, but every time a character performs a spell, I slip a little into your drink. I mean, into your prose.

  When it comes to Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak, or “the Para books” as everyone calls them, I know that there must be a concrete ending. However, regarding my Sacred Breath series, I do not have as much of a definite plan for the upcoming books as I do with Thirty Minutes. I like the freedom of feeling like I could keep writing the Sacred Breath books for a very long time, following the second generation of characters into adulthood.

  Sometimes writing is like reading in super-slow-motion. Even when I know what’s going to happen, I often don’t know exactly how it’s going to happen until the situation is upon me, and the words seem to arrange themselves like magic. It’s really, really amazing and gratifying for me to experience this. I’ve written quite a few books now, but each time I complete one and put it out there, it feels like the first time all over again.

  Thank you for coming along with me for the ride!

  Best wishes,

  Nadia

  Novels by Nadia Scrieva:

  Sacred Breath Series

  Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Nadia Scrieva was born and raised in Toronto, Canada, where she grew very strong from carrying heavy bags filled with books back and forth from the library. She attended the University of Toronto, graduating with a B.A. in English and Anthropology. She likes knives. Her writing always features powerful females and (mostly) honorable male characters.

  Nadia loves receiving feedback from readers, so feel free to contact her with any of your comments, questions, ideas, or just to say hello.

  Email: nadia@scrieva.com

  Website: NadiaScrieva.com

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