The Shivered Sky: The Complete Series Omnibus: Books 1-3

Life was boot camp, death a one-way ticket to the war.For so many of this world, the idea of an afterlife is a comforting one. You live, you die, and you are rewarded with an eternity of joy and peace. But for Indigo, life after death is a nightmare beyond comprehension. Naked, afraid, and with only snippets of memory, she comes into the afterlife to find that Heaven is in ruins, and the angels are gone, hunted to the brink of extinction. Terrible monsters roam free. Demons control the sky. The great city burns.God is gone. Humans, the ones who are caught, are nothing more than livestock. A resistance exists, but it is weak, unorganized, and all but defeated. For the demons, they struggle to maintain order amongst themselves. Indigo and her human companions only have one choice. They must fight. Told from the point of view of humans, angels, and demons, this is an epic, sweeping tale told in three parts.

From the Inside Flap

Cibola, home of the angels, grand metropolis of Heaven. But now the city is overrun with demons, destroying the beautiful structures, worshipping their cruel gods, and indulging in their desire for human slaves. Such is the state of Heaven when five humans arrive on a forgotten Beacon. For Indigo, Dave, Hitomi, Rico, and Gramm, death is more dangerous than life. They mistakenly unearth the periscepters, powerful weapons of legend, sought by angels and demons alike. The surviving angels, fueled by an ancient prophecy, begin to regain the hope they thought was forever lost. But the demons have their own plans, and another war in Heaven is brewing, a great storm with the strength of a thousand choirs and the undeniable power to shiver the sky.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

With death came life. The young woman opened her eyes, blinking in the strange light. She sat up slowly, stretching her arms. For an instant, it was peaceful. A cool breeze gently caressed her back and shoulders, and every muscle was relaxed. But then, gradually, the serenity of the moment began to fade as she realized she was completely naked. And she had no idea where she was. Calm down. Take a deep breath, look around. All around her stretched an infinite beach of white sand, flanked by a never-ending azure ocean so absolutely still, her chest pulled with fear at the sight of it. But most disturbing was the sky. It was dark crimson, like blood spilled across clear glass. There was no sun, yet there was light. The beach stretched far behind her, sloping up until it disappeared into a dark, foreboding haze. The only sound was her quick, frantic breathing, and it was unnatural and loud in the complete silence. How did she get here? She searched her recent memory, and with a terrible, almost choking horror she realized she didn't have any memory at all. She jumped to her feet then, frantically looking around. She took a step and realized she was standing upon something solid. Beneath her bare feet, covered with a light dusting of sand, was a small platform of beige marble tiles. About the size of a kick-boxing ring. At each corner was a broken, jagged stump. She stepped forward and ran her hand across one. A quick jolt of electricity shocked her. She jerked back with a yelp. "Hello?" she called. The words sounded odd, tinny. "Hello?" She wrapped her dark arms around her chest. Her hands shook. She desperately tried to remember something, anything. I can't just stand here like an idiot. I have to do something. She moved to the edge and stepped off, sinking to her ankles in the sand. The fine grains were silken, almost a liquid, unnaturally warm. She sensed the ground wasn't solid, like the sand was actually much deeper. She stepped again. She was swallowed another inch. She waded about twenty feet out, but she became hopelessly bogged down, the sand sucking at her legs, trying to draw her in. I can't even get away. Is this some sort of prison? Defeated, she turned back to the platform. Two people now sat there, their sudden appearance so utterly surprising, she took a step back into the unforgiving sand. Boys. One was about sixteen years old with scraggly blonde hair. He jumped to his feet, looking around like a cornered animal. The other was only slightly older with shoulder-length brown hair, and his naked body was rail thin, his rib bones almost pushing through his chest. He stood slowly, a grin on his face. He was tall, towering over the other boy. Both of the boys turned to see each other and, realizing that they were naked, quickly crossed their legs and covered themselves with their hands. They hadn't noticed her yet, but she panicked, pulling her arm over her chest. She had the urge to allow the sand to swallow her. But her fear quickly turned to relief. They're people like me. They just had the same thing happen to them. Still keeping her hand over her chest, she trudged toward them. She called out, and both turned and watched. She didn't like their eyes on her naked body. The tall one with the long hair held out his hand for her as she returned to the marble. She awkwardly grasped his hand, trying to cover her chest and cross her legs as much as she could. His grip was strong. He smiled, showing a row of straight, white teeth. "Gramm," he said. It took her a second to realize he was introducing himself. "Hi." She kept her eyes averted, and thankfully he was doing the same. "Do you Do you know what's going on?" "Of course," he said. The other boy put his hands to his head. "This isn't fucking happening." She looked back and forth between the two. "What? I don't remember anything. Do I know you people?" The blonde-haired boy's eyes were wild with fear. He stopped covering himself and waved his arms. "I am not here. I can't be. There was a man. He saw me. He was going for help." Gramm put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You are here. Whatever happened to you, it's over now." His accent was much different than hers. Australian. Gramm smiled sadly. "I knew I was dying. I think that's why it's easier for me." The blonde boy sat, tucking his head into his knees. He rocked back and forth, crying. "Why?" he whispered. "I can't believe it. Holy fuck. Mom's gonna freak out." "What's your name?" Gramm asked the boy. "David," he whispered, still crying. "My friends called me Dave." She took a step back. Her mouth was dry, a desert, and her words wavered with fear. "What are you talking about? Where are we?" The boy named Dave looked piercingly at her. "Don't you get it? We are dead."

About the Author

Matt Dinniman currently resides in Tucson, Arizona with his wife and family. He works as an obituary writer and has had many occupations throughout his life. He has worked as a pizza delivery driver, a security guard, an EMT, a private investigator, an editor, a telephone psychic, and a freelance copywriter--and that's just the beginning. His award-winning fiction and non-fiction has been published all over the world. The Shivered Sky is his first novel.

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