Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: September 24, 2015
Number of pages: 200
Word Count: 63,871
Cover Artist: Shari Ryan
Childhood friendship turns to love in this dark reimagining of the fountain of youth. In 1919, Charlie returns from WWI and gives his heart to Julia. As their love story begins, tragedy strikes when Julia contracts a deadly illness.
On her deathbed, dreams of a future together shatter, but Charlie refuses to give up, convincing Julia to drink from a vial of “healing waters” his war buddy swore would bring spontaneous healing. Julia's miraculous recovery brings hope, but the water's murderous side effects snuff out the couple’s short-lived joy.
Can Charlie help Julia fight the water's call to kill? All their efforts may be in vain when Julia has to choose between running from the curse or embracing it in order to save Charlie.
Journey with Julia and Charlie through a love story that spans a hundred years and an age-old curse that spans more and worse, puts Charlie’s life and Julia’s soul at risk.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/NLNDojMxckQ
C.S. Kendall spent her formative years growing up in the small town of McPherson, KS. As such, there was not much to do, so her imagination, which always lagged behind her age, had free reign. From playing dress up into her teens, recording radio shows with various voices and storylines with her friends, to dappling with the art of crafting a novel, there were few dull moments for her. Enter adulthood, a day job, and the backburner. But story came calling, and finally, her imagination woke up and answered. Though she loves and is fulfilled by her job as a social work therapist, she equally enjoys running away in her mind to imaginary lands with made up people. She lives happily with her husband and their two amazing children in southwest Michigan.
Learn more by visiting http://cskendall.net
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/C.S.-Kendall/e/B015UEF7IK/
As soon as we were alone, I asked, "What are you so happy about?"
"First," he said and then kissed me. "Second, I’m happy because today you’re going to get well."
I hardly had the energy to lift my gaze to his face. "Can you sit, please?"
"Oh sure, of course. See, I knew you’d beat this thing. It only became clear to me today how it would happen. I took the next train as soon as I knew."
"What are you talking about?"
"Sorry. Okay." He took a deep breath and tried again. "Do you remember my war buddy Arnold I told you about?"
"Was he the one who wanted to be the horse doctor or the one with the bizarre obsession with water?"
"The water." Charlie’s eyes lit, and he pulled a chain from his pocket. On the end of it was a small vial with a clear liquid in it. "All I’ve thought about since I left you last was how I couldn’t lose you. I racked my brain all week long, prayed to God for you when I should've been sleeping, until the answer came this morning. I remembered I had it. You should've heard how he carried on and on about this water, how it would heal, how he went through hell to get it but it was worth it should he ever need it. And I thought, ‘Why let it go to waste?’ Especially now that you need it so badly. Obviously there was a reason I held on to the water. It wasn’t clear until now."
"Oh, I love you. But there's no such thing as healing waters. You said yourself he was superstitious."
"I know I did, but what if there's more to it than I thought? I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before."
"Look at me, Charlie. I am skin and bones. My entire body hurts, and I can barely eat. I am being consumed right before your eyes, and you’ve got your sights set on some silly potion."
And then I saw it. Behind the fire in Charlie’s eyes lived desperation. All his hope hinged on this sip of water. Insane as it was, he was willing to embrace any farfetched possibility if it meant he didn’t have to face the reality of living without me.
His face fell a little at my words, but he wouldn't be discouraged. "What will it hurt? Drink it, please. For me." He held the vial out, and I studied him. Hopelessness threatened to burst through the expectation in his eyes, and I felt sad for him. I, with a body full of consumption, pitied Charlie.
The pity came on the heels of my love for him. His plea warmed my heart, desperate as it was, because somewhere, deep down, despite all his optimism and prayers, he knew I was going to die. I took it from him, opened it up, and tipped it back. What harm could one small sip of water do?