by Anna Zaires
A beautiful, feminine, sensual shape.
Focus, Blaise, focus.
“Why are you walking like that?” She slowly got to her feet, her movements uncertain and strangely clumsy. “Should I be walking too? Is that how people talk to each other?”
Blaise stopped in front of her, doing his best to keep his eyes above her neck. “I’m sorry. I’m not accustomed to naked women in my study.”
She ran her hands down her body, as though trying to feel it for the first time. Whatever her intent, Blaise found the gesture extremely erotic.
“Is something wrong with the way I look?” she asked. It was such a typically feminine concern that Blaise had to stifle a smile.
“Quite the opposite,” he assured her. “You look unimaginably good.” So good, in fact, that he was having trouble concentrating on anything but her delicate curves. She was of medium height, and so perfectly proportioned that she could’ve been used as a sculptor’s template.
“Why do I look this way?” A small frown creased her smooth forehead. “What am I?” That last part seemed to be puzzling her the most.
Blaise took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing pulse. “I think I can try to venture a guess, but before I do, I want to give you some clothing. Please wait here – I’ll be right back.”
And without waiting for her answer, he hurried out of the room.
* * *
If you’d like to know when The Sorcery Code comes out, please visit Dima Zales’s website at www.dimazales.com and sign up for his new release email list. You can also connect with him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.
Excerpt from Mind Awakening by Dima Zales
Author’s Note: Mind Awakening is another book Dima Zales is working on in collaboration with me. It’s a science fiction novel. The excerpt and the description are unedited and subject to change.
* * *
Ethan remembers being shot in the chest. By all rights, he should be dead. Instead, he wakes up in a world that seems like futuristic paradise . . . as someone else.
Who is the real Ethan? The computer scientist he remembers being, or the world-famous genius everyone appears to think he is? And why is someone trying to kill him here, in this peaceful utopian society?
These are some of the questions he’ll explore with his psychologist Matilda – a woman as beautiful as she is mysterious. What is her agenda . . . and what is the Mindverse?
* * *
Ethan woke up.
For a moment, he just lay there with his eyes closed, trying to process the fact that he was still alive. He clearly remembered the mugging . . . and being shot. The pain had been awful, like an explosion in his chest. He hadn’t known one could survive that kind of agony; he’d been sure the bullet had entered his heart.
But somehow he was still alive. Taking a deep breath, Ethan cautiously moved his arm, wondering why he wasn’t feeling any pain now. Surely there had to be a wound, some damage from the shooting?
Yet he felt fine. More than fine, in fact. Even the pain from his rheumatoid arthritis seemed to be gone. They must’ve given him a hell of a painkiller in the hospital, he thought, finally opening his eyes.
He wasn’t in a hospital.
As soon as that fact registered, Ethan shot up in bed, his heartbeat skyrocketing. There wasn’t a single nurse or cardiac monitor in the vicinity. Instead, he was in someone’s lavish bedroom, sitting on a king-sized bed with a giant padded headboard.
The fact that he could sit up like that was yet another shock. There weren’t any tubes or needles sticking out of his body – nothing hampering his movements. He was wearing a stretchy blue T-shirt instead of a hospital gown, and the black pants that he could see under the blanket seemed to be rather comfortable pajamas.
Lifting his arm, Ethan touched his chest, trying to feel where the wound might be. But there was nothing. No pain, not even a hint of sensitivity. All he could feel was smooth, healthy pectoral muscle.
Muscle? Was that his imagination, or did his chest seem more muscular? Ethan was in decent shape, but he was far from a bodybuilder. And yet, as ridiculous as it was, there appeared to be quite a bit of muscle on his chest – and on his forearm, Ethan realized, looking down at his bare arms.
In general, his forearms didn’t look like they belonged to him. They were muscular and tan, covered with a light dusting of sandy hair – a far cry from his usual pale limbs.
Trying not to panic, Ethan carefully swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood up. There was no pain associated with his movements, nothing to indicate that something bad might’ve happened to him. He felt strong and healthy . . . and that scared him even more than waking up in an unfamiliar bedroom.
The room itself was nice, decorated in modern-looking grey and white tones. Ethan had always meant to furnish his bedroom at home to look more like this, but hadn’t gotten around to it. There also seemed to be some kind of movie posters on the walls. Upon closer inspection, they were more like theatrical production ads – ads that depicted a stylized, buffer, and better-looking version of himself.
What the hell?
In one of the posters, Ethan’s likeness was holding rings on a pencil very close to his face. The rings were linked like a chain, and the image was titled Insane Illusions by Razum. In another ad, he was wearing a tuxedo and making a woman float in mid-air.
Was this a dream? If so, it had to be the most vivid dream Ethan had ever experienced – and one from which he couldn’t seem to wake up. Ethan’s heart was galloping in his chest, and he could feel the beginning of a panic attack.
No, stop it, Ethan. Just breathe. Breathe through it. And utilizing a technique he’d learned long ago to manage stress, Ethan focused on taking deep, even breaths.
After a couple of minutes, he felt calmer and more able to think rationally. Could this possibly be his house? Perhaps he’d suffered some kind of brain damage after being shot and was now experiencing memory loss. Theoretically, it was possible that he’d gotten a tan and started exercising – even though his rheumatoid arthritis usually prevented him from being particularly active.
His arthritis . . . That was another weird thing. Why didn’t his joints ache like they usually did? Had he been given some wonder drug that healed gunshot wounds and autoimmune disorders? And what about those posters on the walls?
Doing his best to remain calm, Ethan spotted two doors on the opposite ends of the room. Taking one at random, he found himself inside a large, luxurious bathroom. There was a large mirror in front of him, and Ethan stepped closer to it, feeling like he was suffocating from lack of air.
The man reflected there was both familiar and different. Like his arms, his face was tan and practically glowing with health. Even his teeth seemed whiter somehow. His light brown hair was longer, almost covering his ears, and his skin was perfectly clear and wrinkle-free. Only his eyes were the same grey color that Ethan was used to seeing.
Breathe, Ethan. Breathe through it. There had to be a logical explanation for this. His buff build could be explained by a new exercise program. He could’ve also gotten a tan on a recent vacation – even though he couldn’t recall taking one. However, he also looked younger somehow, which made even less sense. Ethan was in his mid-thirties, but the man in the mirror looked like he was maybe twenty-five. Surely he wasn’t vain enough to have gotten plastic surgery at such a young age?
Blinking, Ethan stared at himself, then raised his hand and brushed back his hair. Everything felt real, too real for it to be a dream. Could the doctors have done something to him that had this incredible side effect? Yeah, right, they invented the elixir of immortality and had to use it on me in ER.
Leaving the bathroom, Ethan approached the wall and looked at another poster. There was a definite resemblance between what he saw in the mirror and the guy on the poster. In fact, he was confident that those posters were of himself – or, at least, of himself as he was right now, in this weird dream that was unlike any other.
&n
bsp; Taking the other door, he entered a hallway that was covered with even more posters of his likeness performing various illusions. At the end of the hallway, there was a room. Likely a living room, Ethan decided, even though it was empty aside from a piece of furniture that resembled a couch.
A couch that was somehow floating in the air, as though it was hanging by some invisible thread from the ceiling.
What the . . . ? Swallowing hard, Ethan stepped into the room, trying to see if there was someone playing a joke on him.
There wasn’t anyone there. Instead, in one corner of the room, several trophies were floating on top of little pedestals. Seemingly made of gold, the trophy figures were those of men holding a sword. Approaching them carefully, Ethan tried to see how they were able to float in the air like that, but there was no visible mechanism holding them up. Weird.
Spotting a large window on the far wall, Ethan walked over to it, needing to look outside and reassure himself that he hadn’t gone crazy, that he was still in New York City and not in some strange parallel universe.
And as he looked outside, he froze, paralyzed by shock and disbelief.
* * *
If you’d like to know when Mind Awakening comes out, please visit Dima Zales’s website at www.dimazales.com and sign up for his new release email list. You can also connect with him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.
About the Author
Anna Zaires fell in love with books at the age of five, when her grandmother taught her to read. She wrote her first story shortly thereafter. Since then, she has always lived partially in a fantasy world where the only limits were those of her imagination. Currently residing in Florida, Anna is happily married to Dima Zales and closely collaborates with him in the writing of the Krinar Chronicles.
To learn more, please visit www.annazaires.com.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Part I
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Part II
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Part III
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Sneak Peeks
Excerpt from Twist Me
Excerpt from White Nights
Excerpt from The Krinar Captive
Excerpt from The Sorcery Code by Dima Zales
Excerpt from Mind Awakening by Dima Zales
About the Author
