A fast-paced psychological ride that will have readers guessing from the first page to the last.
~ Heather Burch, bestselling author of the Halflings series ~
Wildly imaginative and infinitely entertaining, “The Torn” moves at the speed of thought...it quickens your pulse and tugs at the heart with characters who stay with you long after the last page.
~ Robert Liparulo, author of the Dreamhouse Kings series ~
“The Torn” is Cole’s first full-length novel, and she delivers a well developed world combining elements of fantasy, sci-fi, and eons of heart. This is an author who knows how to get to the heart of the matter even while taking the reader on a wild adventure!
~ S.R. Karfelt, Author of WOA, Warrior of the Ages series ~
“The Torn” is a fast-paced, wild adventure through several worlds when quantum physics becomes an avenue for therapy. Kate is strong yet vulnerable, and easy to relate to. Hop in on this crazy ride and pick a side as you fight for Kate’s love life—all the while, she’ll be fighting to remain alive in a therapy session gone wrong.
~ Kelsey Rae Keating, Author of Monstrosity ~
“The Torn” captured my attention from the very beginning. The characters are so relatable as well as their lives. I feel like it helped me realize that everyone has problems. The story had me laughing aloud and crying too. I had tears of sadness and tears of joy. But most importantly, this book helped me. It taught me to forgive others and myself. I’ve carried the burden of guilt around for a long time and now I don’t. The fact that I was entertained and at the same time given advice and helped is amazing.
~ Kyle Shelton ~
As a court appointed advocate of foster children for the state of Texas, I immediately connected with the characters in “The Torn.” The writing was imaginative and kept me interested. It was hard to put down. Can’t wait for the sequel.
~ Alice Gordon, CASA ~
“The Torn” is a one-of-a-kind read that had me thinking long after I finished. I started into it without knowing what to expect, but came away with a gripping adventure and a heart-stopping love triangle. To anyone who has ever looked deep inside themselves, “The Torn” is for you.
~ Katie Cross, Author of Miss Mabel’s School for Girls ~
“The Torn” is an amazing story of passion, love, betrayal and forgiveness. I was immediately drawn in by the authenticity of the characters and the suspense of the story line. The author has an uncanny way of depicting scenes in such a way that draws one in visually and emotionally.
~ Dana Livingston, Challenge A Director, Classical Conversations ~
“The Torn” takes the familiar storylines of love, loss, and redemption and turns them inside out. Action which demands you sit up and read is combined with powerful prose you’ll read again and again. Not since Narnia has there been such a powerful spiritual allegory that was so righteously cool.
~ Kimberly Robertson, English Educator and Youth Development Professional ~
Though not a fan of fantasy in any form, I read “The Torn” on the recommendation from an acquaintance and could not put it down! The author perfectly pairs fantasy and reality in a way that took me elsewhere and brought me back changed. Read it on a whim or out of curiosity, read it to escape and because you love fantasy, or read it just because you have the time on a rainy weekend, but whatever you do....read it!
~ T.J. Willson ~
The Torn
Copyright © 2013 LaDonna Cole
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Published by
HWV Productions
ISBN-13: 978-0-9912335-0-2
ISBN-10: 0-9912335-0-6
For all the Katie Lynn Wilsons out there
who have endured great loss,
and for Dayla, Bailey, Kyle, Brandon, Jackie,
Sheldon, and Shelby,
the original HWV Jumpers.
Writing is a solitary endeavor, but publishing is not. There can be no published work without a public. My public, my peeps, my team of extraordinary co-workers have taught me a valuable lesson in the concept of collaboration equals a better product.
I want to say thank you to all of those irreplaceable people who have brought this series to the public:
To Blue Harvest Creative for guidance and support.
Dayla, my very first beta-reader, listening to me read, giving honest critique whether I wanted to hear it or not, for tears and sighs. It all brought me to the place where I can say, “I am a writer.”
Bailey, for being the best roommate ever! You give me all the time I need to pound the keys and love without condition!
Mom, I know, I know! You always told me I needed to put my stories on paper. Thank you for singing that song until it sunk in, and thank you for tricking me into taking typing class in high school.
Dana, for struggling through those early manuscripts, and for being the first person to help me realize my words could make a difference.
Robin, for late night editing and Facebook chats to talk me through the sticky points, for deep, deep discounts for the starving artist.
Thea, for microscopic proofreading that shed light on the messy and dark places, for 20+ years of GNO’s .
To the Torn Launch Team for trusted perspective, faithful encouragement and honest critique: Robin, Stephanie, Kelsey, Dayla, Dana, Kimberly, Bailey, Emily, Deder, Kyle, Thea, Rachel, Becky, Katie
To Cory Clubb for marketing and artistic consult.
To Bailey Cole, Kennedy Wilson, Mackenzie Seavey, Hayden Spencer and Hunter Spencer, the most talented and fun cast and crew.
To Annie Adams for making the Immortal Song resound.
Ragged Blue Monkeys, the Warden and his crew for changing my life, showing me where I belong, and continued encouragement! The tectonic plates of my core are still shifting, thanks to one amazing weekend and a hundred blue monkeys in an old factory.
To all the Musers at ObeytheMuse.com for raising the standard and lofting high the torch for me to follow: Rob for advice and insisting on fighting resistance! Stephanie, for clearing the path and handpicking my team (Greece is the word, is the word!), Kelsey for the best attitude ever! (Superhero indeed! Still my favorite!) Katie, for honest critique and valuable feedback and sloshing Katie-gravy on the rest of us. Donna, for inspiration (pass the coconut confetti). Robin for weathering my hissy fits and giving practical advice, KimRo for Qadosh warfare and Gorilla kicking rampages, for early beta reading, early story brainstorming, and one epic car trip. Hey, it’s a trilogy because of you, girl!
Thank you!
Fear trickled down my spine and my heart thumped an angry staccato as the enormous beast crashed through the thicket behind me. Run! I commanded my feet, but they seemed to be growing roots into the mossy forest floor.
“RUN!” Mel screamed and yanked on my arm so hard I thought she had wrenched it right out of my shoulder, but it worked. I was running. We were both running for our lives.
“Is it yours?” she yelled to me.
“I don’t…I don’t…” Looking back over my shoulder, I saw the beast pause and throw his nose into the air, sniffing. He reared up on his hind legs and I saw it. He was wearing a long yellow leash of sorts arou
nd his neck, but the ends were frayed, as though he had gnawed himself free.
I stumbled and went crashing into the thicket, thorns snagging my clothes and hair. Mel was next to me in an instant. “Get up!”
She paused at the look of panic on my face. “It is yours.” She said and ancient sadness crossed her features. “What is it?” She slashed at the vine tangled around my feet and stole quick glances over her shoulder.
“It…It…it’s my….” I croaked out in despair.
ROOOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRR! The beast bellowed when he caught our scent.
“Get up! Go!” Mel urged.
I scrambled to my feet just as the beast crashed through the wall of branches and vines. We froze staring at the hideous creature as long talons scraped the ground at his sides and black gunk oozed from his mouth and eyes. Yellow fangs pressed into the matted fur of his face. His eyes held deadly intent and seething malice. His breath rose in green fumes around him.
“What is it?” Mel’s voice whimpered.
“It’s my,” I shuddered. “It’s my daddy!”
“In one tenth of a mile, your destination is on the left…recalculating…recalculating.” Mom glared down at the GPS. It was blinking off and on and the circular arrow was clocking. She thumped it.
“What is wrong with this thing? We must be out of range.”
“Mom, I think we’re here.” I pointed to the maroon covered bridge and the sign plastered above it that said Welcome to Heartwork Village, a place and time set apart.
“Oh, yeah, this must be it.” She turned the car into the drive and we bumped across the wooden slats.
As we neared the center of the old bridge, I glanced to my right to look at the creek bed. The hair on my arms bolted straight and I felt a strange popping sensation in my chest.
“Weird,” I muttered rubbing my arms.
“Oh, I think it is quaint,” Mom purred in disagreement, scanning the narrow lane ahead of us.
We pulled into a blacktop parking lot where several vehicles were already lined in rows and mom’s keys rattled as she turned off the car. Listening to the engine ticking, we sat for a moment, then mom turned to me, eyes welling with tears.
“It shouldn’t be long, Katie Lynn. I am sure they will see what a good girl you are and you will be released early.”
I just nodded and turned my eyes away when her lip quivered. I didn’t want to take the chance that I would start crying too, not the best impression to make in a center full of delinquents. I needed to be tough to make it through the summer.
Besides, mom was sad enough for the both of us. She had been for several months.
“They say after five weeks we can visit during family week.” Mom plunged into her large purse and emerged with a crinkled tissue. She dabbed her cheeks and blew her nose. “Maybe Grammy and Pops will come too, wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Yeah, sure, Mom.” I swallowed back the panic that rose to choke me and ground my teeth together, fighting the urge to beg her to take me home.
“Please be good, darling.” She pulled me into an awkward embrace and kissed the top of my head. Enveloped in her signature perfume, the scent of fresh air and sunshine, I threw my arms around her neck and deeply breathed in the familiar fragrance, committing it to memory.
“I will be an angel, Mom.” I whispered my wavering promise and kissed her wet cheek.
We stepped out of the car into the sweltering heat and heaved my suitcases out of the trunk. I stole glances around the parking lot at the collection of misfits emerging from various vehicles.
“Hi! You must be Katie Lynn.” A perky co-ed with curly red hair approached as she checked something on her clipboard. “My name is Kim Stevens. I’ll be your escort to orientation.”
Kim beamed, her willowy frame swayed slightly as she introduced herself. I lifted a corner of my lips in a half grimace, half smile. It was all I could muster up. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Let me get some help with your luggage.” She turned and called, “Dirk, over here!” She swirled her finger in a circle above my luggage and a huge black man grabbed one of the boys, and they jogged toward us.
“This is Katie Lynn and her mom, Ms. Wilson.”
Dirk held out his fist and I bumped it. He beamed a sparkling, toothy grin. “Cool. We’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted, Katie Lynn.”
My eyes kept darting over to the boy he was with. He was cute, shocking turquoise eyes were lit by the sun and framed with blond fringe. He had an innocent look in his features. I couldn’t imagine he would ever do anything wrong to end up here.
“Hey.” He flashed me a gorgeous smile and my heart galloped away with any words I might have uttered. I felt the tender skin under my right eye tick and I sort of huffed at him.
Smooth, Kate. I swallowed and slammed my eye lids together. Why was my throat suddenly parched?
Dirk laughed at the awkward pause between us, and then rallied. “Come on, Corey, let’s get Miss Wilson’s stuff into the wagons.” They collected luggage and trotted away to a covered pavilion where everyone gathered.
“Hope and pray you get on his Jump Team, the dude’s got skills.” Kim winked and pointed her head toward Dirk’s back.
“Jump Team?” My voice cracked. I had no clue what she was talking about. Were there jump rope races or trampoline stunts? I really hoped she wasn’t talking about anything that needed a parachute.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the pavilion. Mom followed along in our wake. I hadn’t expected this kind of reception, this felt like summer camp, not a program for juvenile delinquents. I don’t know what I thought would happen—maybe shackles or a lice check?
Passing into the shaded cover of the open air pavilion, Kim called out. “Caitlyn, Eunavae, this is Katie Lynn.”
“Hiya!” The one called Caitlyn said in a deep raspy voice. It was a shock to hear such a big voice come out of such a tiny body. Her lips were glossy pink and her long black hair curled around her olive toned shoulders.
“Call me Pinky,” the other one demanded. She cast a derisive glance to Kim for the failed attempt at an introduction. She had chin length, jet black hair, with a swath of electric pink down one side and shaved around the bottom on the other side. A stud in her bottom lip and a spike in her brow completed her emo appearance.
“Sorry, I forgot, you go by the name Pinky.” Kim apologized, eye brows aloft and jaw tense.
I lifted a corner of my lip and tried not to stare at the spike hovering above Pinky’s angled eyes. Difficult.
Clip clop sounds reached us and we all turned to see two horse drawn carriages, an old fashion stage coach and what appeared to be a hayride, roll to a cascaded stop beside the pavillion.
“Wicked,” Pinky whispered.
I turned to match pleased grins with her and Caitlyn as we wove and jostled toward the first carriage. Mom closed in behind us.
A frantic scream tore through the trees and my heart jumped into my throat. All the teens froze in their tracks and looked around at each other with big eyes. I glanced at mom who didn’t seem fazed at all. Several of the other parents seemed clueless, too. I frowned and looked at Pinky and Caitlyn’s startled faces.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered.
They nodded and we stepped closer together.
Dirk cleared his throat and boomed out in deep bassoon. “Sorry, parents. This is where you say goodbye. No families are allowed on campus until family week.” Then he turned and began handing luggage up to an elderly man who had been driving the stage coach. “There ya go, Pops.”
Pops was what I called my grandpa so I glanced up at the old man. He caught my eye and dipped his chin in greeting. He looked nothing like my Pops, but his eyes perked up as though he recognized me.
Wait! Goodbye? The meaning of Dirk’s words filtered through my distractions and I turned a startled face to Mom and reached out a hand to her.
“We’ll save you a seat, Kate.” Pinky wrenched Caitlyn away to the carr
iages, glancing in the direction of the scream.
Mom enfolded me in her warm arms and kissed my cheek. I hadn’t realized I was almost as tall as she was. She touched my face and whispered. “I love you, Katie Lynn.”
“I love you, too, Momma.” I felt my brow crumple and quickly ironed it out in an attempt to be brave. There was so much I wanted to say to her. Be brave for Jimmy. Get on with her life and stop pining for Daddy. He didn’t deserve her anyway. I was sorry for making everything worse, but there was no time, no privacy and that mysterious scream left me shaken.
“I…I…I’m so sorry,” I stuttered.
“I know, darling.” She kissed my cheek and pushed me away. “Now, go on, my brave Katie.”
I turned, my attention riveted on the trees and my heart distracted at the abrupt goodbye. I scanned for the carriage with Pinky’s flash of fuchsia hair, and started toward it, wiping my tears. I glanced back to see Mom already heading toward the car.
SLAM!!
I hit a wall of flesh and ricocheted back losing my balance.
“Whoa.” A strong arm wrapped around my waist and kept me from falling.
“Sorry.” I quickly swiped at a traitorous tear and ducked my face.
He cut me a sympathetic expression. “No problem. Hey, you okay?” He touched my chin and turned my face toward him.
I chanced a glance at his face and felt warmth seep into the parts of me that his hands touched. His emotive brown eyes brimmed with concern, topped by a prominent furrowed brow. He had dark brown hair that swooped across his forehead and peaked in a point at his temple bringing Japanese anime characters to my mind. His chiseled angular face was softened with tender expression, a perfect balance of masculinity and gentleness.
The Torn, Book One of the Holding Kate Series Page 1
