Chapter Seven excerpt Angel of Mercy

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Wednesday, January 15th, 2014

Sven’s here today! It was so good to see him again. Mom’s given him a bed in the spare room even after he said he’d take a hotel room. Mom won’t hear of it and quite right too! I love Sven, he looks like a Viking, he has this wide expressive face and bright blue eyes. When he talks to you he always looks at your eyes. He’s been one of mom’s friends for centuries and was born in the tenth century. I haven’t asked him about his history because I still feel odd asking, like it’s prying into someone’s personal life but I’ve been assured that Sven won’t be embarrassed. He’s promised to fill me in on some of the things mom got up to when she was a kid. She laughed at that and told him to keep it clean.
He brought an extra suitcase with him, which is filled with some of my personal things. There was an awful lot of stuff I left back home for obvious reasons. One of the things he brought over was my fiddle, I learned how to play it in Chicago and I’ve missed not having it. Another of the goodies he brought over was another DVD of the Raven Queens that the girls converted from old videotapes and digitized. It’s kind of weird seeing mom, the Kings, Shina, Sigrid, Amelia and Melanie back in the late eighties. They haven’t aged a day since then and that’s almost scary when you realize they’ve stayed that age for hundreds and even thousands of years. Mom’s hair was a lot longer and very eighties, like a red-haired version of Farrah Fawcett.
It was another of Cat’s buddies, Billy Ray who found me my first car. He owns an auto shop out near Highland Park. He’s part Cheyenne and part Lakota. The first time I met him was when I went with dad to pick up his car that Billy had serviced. He’s a big guy and I’d hate to get on the wrong side of him in a dark alley but he’s as gentle as a lamb. He had this map of North America, hanging in his office with the names of the tribes superimposed over the states and provinces. He saw me reading the names and pointed to the Cheyenne and Lakota.
“They’re my people and that’s my land,” he moved his hand from Colorado to South Dakota, “all of it and one of these days I’m gonna collect back rent off all them pesky white squatters and retire for the rest of my life.”

When my stepmom’s plane went down a part of me died, Cat was my world. In her place she left us to her friends, the Grey Ravens. Over the years I slowly came to realise her death was a mere facade. When we were reunited I learned the truth about Clan Grey Raven and her remarkable history. Some people will always love. Some people never lose hope. Some people never die…
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This excerpt is from The Chronicles of the Grey Raven. Book One, Angel of Mercy, now available on Smashwords and Amazon and Amazon UK