Book site: www.cobbogoth.com
Cobbogoth Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Cobbogoth/201603626565950
Cobbogoth Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IY95wH2YrL8
EXCERPT:
1
Memory Lapse
Standing before me was a woman with
tangled hip-length hair—hair the color of blood. Her eyes shone like amethysts.
She reminded me of a painting Uncle Jack made for me as a child—the Opalian Eye
from the Cobbogothian legends, their prophetess. As her eyes shone down upon
me, I remembered her name—Totherma. She watched me carefully. Then, lifting her
arm, she pointed to my right. I looked and saw a woman covering her face and
crying.
Turning back to Totherma, I watched her
enter through a doorway, walk down a corridor, and stop in front of another
doorway. I went to follow, but something made me look down. My hands were
covered in blood, and the floor sparkled with shards of glass. I smelled
something pungent and musty, something burning.
Looking up, I saw the woman pointing
into the doorway where she stood. I hurried to meet her when my path was
suddenly blocked by people. They wore white.
Angels? I wondered.
They huddled around something, and I
knew that whatever it was had caused that salty, burning smell.
I struggled to get by them, trying to
see what she wanted me to see. I stood as tall as I could reach, but it wasn’t
enough. I looked for Totherma until our eyes met. Understanding, she lifted her
arm, and with the motion of her hand, I rose up off the ground. I could see
over the group of people into the center of the circle . . .
What I saw made me scream.
“Honey! Honey are you alright?” I was
being shaken awake. Panting and sweating I turned toward the dim light,
blinking my eyes several times.
In and out, Nor. In and out. I
tried to shake the last image from my mind.
As
my eyes focused, a pretty woman with blue-black hair and honey-colored eyes
began to materialize.
Completely disoriented, I became aware
that I was not on solid ground. “Who . . . where . . . where am I?” I blurted
out, as I pushed my back against what appeared to be a leather seat.
“You’re on a bus heading toward Boston.
Ring a bell?” she smiled.
“Uh, no actually.”
“Give yourself a minute to wake up.
Looks like you’ve been through some kind of an adventure recently,” she soothed
as she brushed wet hair back from my face.
I stiffened under her touch.
With an understanding look, she dropped
her hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just . . .” she reached up and touched my hair
again. This time, however, she came back with a handful of debris. “You’ve got
something in your hair.”
I patted my head as well. Rather than
sleek, smooth hair pulled into a tight braid, like I was used to, everything
felt frizzy and matted. “What the—?”
“Let’s see, I’m sure I’ve got a mirror
in here somewhere.” The woman dug around in a deep purse, then handed me a
palm-sized compact.
As I took it, something caught my eye; a
charm attached to a thin leather bracelet dangled from my wrist. I held it up
in front of me and fingered the charm. It was a small, circular stone, white
and speckled black—merlinite. “Where did this come from?” I mumbled.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that
one. Hairbrush?” the woman offered.
“Yeah, thanks,” I took the brush. “It’s
just, I recognize this stone from my geology final this morning, but I have
literally no idea where it came from.”
“I’m sure it will come to you. Don’t
worry,” she tried to look reassuring.
Finally, I opened the compact to check
out my hair.
“What—what happened to me?” My
hair was a ratted cloud, strewn with dead leaves and twigs. There was dirt
smudged across my left cheek and my eyes were smeared with mascara, revealing
several of the long, white-blonde lashes I worked so hard to hide.
“Like I said, you look like you’ve had
an adventure recently.” The woman peeked into the mirror beside me.
“Uh . . . no, I look like I spent the
night in the woods!”
“Mmmm . . . true. Let me help you.
What’s your name?”
“Norah Lukens,” I said, frantically
dragging my fingers through my hair and loosening the rest of my braid. “There
is no way I’m letting James see me like this.”
“Calm down, honey. Look, I’ve got
everything you need right here.” Again, the woman was rummaging through her
purse.
I balanced the compact mirror on my
knees and began working on my hair again. I’d just gotten most of the knots
out, when I scooped it back into a messy ponytail and caught sight of a long,
thin cut just above my collar bone. Strands of my hair were stained burgundy
and caked to my neck where the blood had dried.
“Oh my gosh!” Leaning into the mirror, I
scoured my brain for how this could’ve happened. For some reason, I was drawing
a complete blank on anything after talking with Professor Anderton at my
geology final.
A complete blank. That was a first.
“Here we go. Face toilettes and make
up—oh dear! What happened to your neck!” the woman cried.
“I—I honestly don’t know.”
“Belmont, Belmont Center Station next.”
The bus driver’s voice sliced through our conversation, as we pulled up the
street toward my home town.
“Oh no,” I groaned, “this is my stop.”
As the familiar buildings passed, my heart jumped into my throat. I glanced out
the window looking for any sign of James.
“It’s alright, don’t worry.” The woman
patted my arm. “Hold still, and I’ll have you looking glamorous in no time.”
I gave her a doubtful look, but
realizing she was my best chance, I collapsed into the seat back. “I doubt the
word ‘glamorous’ will ever be used to describe me. I’ve been called ‘ghost
girl’ and ‘powder-face,' but never glamorous. Though I do appreciate your help,
just the same.”
“What? I think you’re a beautiful girl!”
She finished smoothing my hair. “Seriously, women the world over would kill for
your porcelain skin, your natural platinum hair, and those eyes! I don’t think
I’ve ever seen that color of green before. It’s like peridot, or kiwis.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Gee . . .
thanks.”
“Whoever this James guy is, he must be
pretty important, huh?”
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