Death Cheater: Book One

Athena Gray is strange. Dead butterflies flutter to life with just a wish, and she saved her dying grandfather by willing him to live. The only person who doesn't think she’s weird is Dan, the most popular boy on Omega High School's baseball team. But who can have friends—or more—when a dark spirit shows up and stalks your every move? Dan can't understand the reason Athena acts haunted, until the paranormal visitor turns to blackmail, forcing her to come clean about her gift. Manipulated into using her power for terrible things, Athena must stand up to the darkest force she’s ever encountered, before the people she cares about most get hurt.

From the Back Cover

A low rumble echoed around me, and the tall, dark trees went still. Not even a leaf stirred. My heart hummed, and a tingle of apprehension made my palms damp. A snarl came from the shadow of a tangled thorn bush, and soft, padding footsteps shuffled in the late afternoon gloom. My breathing went ragged with fear. Maybe it was a raccoon or an angry squirrel. Athena. Whipping around, I stared hard into the murk. A voice. It sounded gentle, but at the same time it sent chills down my arms. I glanced up through the hooded canopy of tree branches and tried to see heaven. God?There was a growl, and the terror I'd been holding at bay zipped up my spine into my skull. I was sure my long hair stood on end, like when kids touched the electrostatic generator at the science museum. Something was coming for me, and it wasn't something from the woods. It'd been following me all day. Maybe even my entire life. My foot nudged something hard. At first I thought it was a snake then I realized it was a stick and picked it up. The noises came closer. I managed to choke out, "Who's there?" No response. I whacked the ground with the stick like I knew some kind of martial arts. Behind me towered a giant oak tree, so big my arms wouldn't reach around it. I backed up against it and crouched, the stick ready in my hands. Another wave of warning rippled over my scalp as my senses told me to look up. There it was right above me, a dog blacker than midnight with fiery red eyes nestled on a branch in the tree. When did dogs start climbing trees? My knees trembled. I realized there were red eyes all around -- in the brush, the gloom, even on other branches. A pack of black, threatening dogs, with eyes glowing like something out of a gothic novel.Adrenalin won. It rushed into my legs and forced them to move with an unseen crackle of energy. I took off running for the safest-looking opening in the underbrush with no idea which way was home. My sneakers slammed into the earth so hard nails of pain shot up my shins. From the stampede behind me, I knew they were coming. I was going to die -- attacked by wild hounds and eaten alive. Athena. The voice came again, tempting me to slow down or look back in curiosity. I wanted to know how close the dogs were, but I knew if I peeked I was a goner. Light broke through the trees up ahead where freedom waited just yards away. There was a glimmer, and I knew it was the baseball field behind the school. I was going to make it, at least to the fence. The galloping sound of paws grew closer, but hope rose in my chest as I pushed my body on toward the edge of the tree line. Through the tangle of overhanging branches, I could see one of the county landscapers on a riding mower, cutting the baseball field's grass. He'd notice. He'd call for help. The view of the sky broadened, pushing aside the shrinking oaks and sweet gum trees. With one last leap toward freedom, I jumped a ditch for the fence. In midair, I sensed them at my backside and let out a scream. My shirttail was snatched from behind. I went down into the shallow trench, and a tangle of soft furry bodies bowled across me. Teeth clamped onto my ankles, sharp as stick pins, but they didn't break the flesh. Something smelled like damp, dirty dogs rummaging through garbage. Choking on terror, I prayed I'd blackout. This time God answered.

About the Author

D.C. Thorne is the paranormal pen name for Danielle Thorne. Danielle is the author of classic romance and adventure in several genres, as well as paranormal books for young adults. Besides Jane Austen, pirates, beaches, cookies, cats, dogs, and long naps... she loves roller coasters, kayaking, and Halloween. She does not like phone calls or sushi. A graduate of BYU-Idaho, Danielle saw early work published by Arts and Prose Magazine, Mississippi Crow, The Nantahala Review, StorySouth, and... you get the idea. Besides writing, she's edited for both Solstice and Desert Breeze Publishing. Her growing blog, The Balanced Writer, focuses on writing, life, and the pursuit of peace and happiness. Currently, Danielle freelances as a non-fiction author for teens, while waiting to hear from readers like you through her website. During free time, which means when Netflix is down, she combs through feedback and offers virtual hugs for reviews.

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