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Torn between two realities.
A choice that will mean life or death.
But she won’t know anything… until she wakes up.
College sophomore, Lila Spencer lived Friday night twice. She doesn’t know how or why, just that she did. As if she split in half and went in two different directions.
Out clubbing with her friends, Heather and Nilah, the girls rock it out and party hard. What begins as an innocent night will lead to a deadly fight for their lives, and Lila might be their only chance for survival.
In bed with her boyfriend, Jay, Lila is safe and warm as she drifts to sleep in the arms of the man she loves. Until she is sucked into a horrifying nightmare of her friends' deaths.
As the sunlight warms her face on Saturday morning, the two scenarios collide. But there can be only one outcome. Will she wake up in her warm bed with Jay by her side, devastated and grieving for her friends? Or was she there to save them?
The answer is just the beginning.
Unfortunately, my words didn’t faze him. He just laughed and wiped his hands on a dry piece of his shirt. “Oh man. We haven’t had one as feisty as you in…” He rested his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Well, a long time.”
My heart hammered, but I put venom in my tone. “Where are my friends? I want to see them.” I strained forward, listening for anything that would tell me they were okay and alive.
I could hear music, loud and vulgar. Voices, all male. Laughter. Bottles clinking. I could smell the crusty scent of cigarette smoke.
He pointed to the closed door. “They’re out there, being taken care of. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. It’s you that I’m not so sure about.”
“You sick son of a bitch. My friend could be on the brink of death, and you’re just gonna do nothing? If she dies on your hands, I swear—”
“Relax,” he cut me off. “She’s still breathing. Enough. We’ll drop her somewhere when everyone’s done. She’ll be fine.”
As I had kicked the driver’s seat earlier, I just as frantically pulled on my arms. “Let me out!” I screamed, hoping beyond hope that someone, inside or out, upstairs or down, could hear me in this hellhole. I had no idea if we were in a house or apartment building, if this was the only bedroom, or if there were others. From the looks of it and guessing the age of these guys, my bet was that this was their place of business where they brought all the girls just for this purpose. I highly doubted that they lived here, but I had nothing to back up my theory.
He rounded the bed. It creaked as he sat on the clean side. He caressed my jaw, my bloody lip. I cringed, ripping away from him, and he gripped me harder. From his pocket, he retrieved a knife. The blade winked at me in the dim light. I swallowed.He grinned. “Still wanna scream?”
About the author
At twelve, Megan decided to write a novel. A month later, she quit. A reading junkie by nature, she started writing again in her twenties as a way to get the voices out, because who wouldn't want to create a Real Living Person out of thin air? Megan also plays the piano and sings. She teaches little kids and takes pictures of pretty butterflies. She eats way too much chocolate, is sort of a mad scientist with her blender, and spends an unhealthy amount of time LOLing on Facebook and Twitter. She lives in Ohio with her husband and very smiley son. Bitter Angel is her first published novel.
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Until the next time,