Dolores Speaks

Good morning, annamaria’s followers, today I would like to post the first chapter of Incantation Paradox, the chapter that began my terrible adventure in the body of a teenage girl I had never met before. I hope my ordeal intrigues you enough to want to read more.

Book: Incantation Paradox

Author: annamaria bazzi

Cover Designer: Natasha Brown

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Release Date: Undetermined

IncantationParadox-small

Blurb:

A car accident cuts Dolores Reynard’s life short, leaving her with a long list of unfulfilled dreams. When she awakens in a strange bed, inside a much younger body, and living with a new family—she can’t worry she might be going insane. How can she be a teenager again?

Jason Richmond understands the danger awaiting his new houseguest. Wanting to ease her concerns, he works to earn Dolores’ trust. But attraction flares in the most unexpected way, and he finds himself caught between setting the situation right and following his heart.

An enduring evil threatens not only the blossoming love but their lives as well. As Dolores and Jason struggle to unravel the truth behind her resurrection, they find themselves tangled in a web of murder, intrigue and magic. Only together can they hope to overcome the incantation paradox holding them captive.

Chapter One

Dolores Reynard’s high heels clacked on the cold cement of the dark parking structure. At seven-thirty, all her coworkers had gone home for the day, and her car sat alone, a testament to the misfortune of working for a taskmaster. Hitting the unlock button, she opened the driver’s door of her brand new Chevy Cruze and slipped inside. A few calming breaths prepared her for the rest of her evening, but at the same time she pulled out onto the street, a car cut her off. She slammed on the brakes so as not to rear-end it. Cursing under her breath, she switched on the radio to settle her nerves and headed toward the Godwin High School auditorium.

Sirens blared in the distance while she drove down Cox Road toward Three Chopt Road, her mind drifting to the office. Yet again, her boss had kept her late. Tonight of all nights. The tension in her body bunched her muscles and her shoulders rose to her ears. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony sank into the background, it’s usual calming effect gone. Glancing up at the dashboard the digital, she checked the clock. 8:15 p.m. Missing another recital would fill her with too much guilt.

She sighed. If only Ethan would get a better job, I could cut my hours to spend more time with the girls. But it didn’t matter any more. Ethan had served her with divorce papers. For years, he complained she had no time for him, yet he refused to help her out. He always encouraged her to climb the corporate ladder. Only recently, she realized his support was so he could indulge in luxury. She grew weary of his lazy ass always settling for part time jobs, but coming from a broken home, she refused to ask for a divorce and put her daughters through the same ordeal she suffered as a child. Why didn’t she recognize his laziness before she married him or before she had any kids? Love is blind.

She eased her foot off the gas pedal after noticing she was a few miles over the speed limit. In the distance, the sirens persisted, seeming closer.

Would Ethan be at the recital, or would he be gallivanting, who knew where, with his slutty secretary? When at last she accused him of having an affair, he never denied it. Damn, him! She banged her palms on the steering wheel. Was the affair his midlife crisis?

After the affair came to light, he moved out of the house, but still demanded money from her to pay all his bills, came to the house to eat her food, and took anything he thought would be useful in his new apartment. He served her with divorce papers, but it took her months before she came to terms with the permanent separation and signed them. No need to prolong the ordeal. After all, Ella and Chloe liked the situation better than hearing them argue all the time. Yet, she still felt guilty about signing them—

The wailing sirens blared somewhere outside her car. She jerked her head around. Where—?

Bright blue lights rushed down a side street straight toward her. She moved to the side of the road to let the oncoming police car pass, but a blinding beam of blazing white light flashed through her window. She squinted, trying to see where it came from and realized another vehicle was headed right at her. She jammed her foot to the gas pedal.

The sound of crunching metal filled her ears. Her body jerked while a force she couldn’t control pulled at her. Oh God!

Her car did a loop-de-loop. Shattering glass ricocheted around her, fusing with Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony flowing from the radio. Her temple smashed against the window, sending more pellets flying all around. The nauseating rolling stopped, leaving her hanging upside down, the seatbelt still holding her in place, her neck pressed to the side from the pressure of the crushed roof.

God, please make it stop. Oh, God. Please keep me alive for my girls.

Warm, thick liquid streamed down her face from her neck, dripping into her eyes. The stench of her own blood filled her senses. Searing pain radiated from the back of her head, shooting down her spine, enveloping her entire body. Her vision narrowed, gathering into a single dot of light.

Ella…Zoe…Mommy loves you.

 

About annamaria

Although born in the United States, Annamaria Bazzi spent a great deal of her childhood in Sicily, Italy, in a town called Sciacca. Italian was the language spoken at home. Therefore, she had no problems when she found herself growing up in a strange country. Upon returning to the states, she promised herself she would speak without an accent. She attended Wayne State University in Detroit Michigan, where she obtained her Bachelor of Science in Computers with a minor in Spanish. Annamaria spent twenty years programming systems for large corporations, creating innovative solution, and addressing customer problems. During those years, she raised four daughters and one husband. Annamaria lives in Richmond Virginia with her small family where she now dedicates a good part of her day writing.
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