Eternity in the Tides
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MSCRBK0000073
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By Freddy MacKay
Release Date: February 24, 2016
Word Count: 41,016
Editor: Erika Orrick
Cover Artist: Gus Li
Autumn has always been Zak's favorite season for hiking and camping. Not to mention breathing in all that crisp fall air and sitting around toasty bonfires. That all changed a year and a half ago when a rich prick high on prescription pills sideswiped Zak while he was out biking.
Now his days are filled with pain and limited mobility. No more camping. No more trails. Zak's life as he knew it is gone forever.
Back at his beloved stomping grounds, Zak is ready to say hello and goodbye one last time. But when a cry from the frigid Lake Superior waters throws him into the role of a rescuer, more than just his life hangs in the balance. Little did Zak know how much one person giving a damn mattered to him.
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Bisexual Urban Fantasy
Also available in paperback for $9.99.
Release Date: February 24, 2016
Word Count: 41,016
Editor: Erika Orrick
Cover Artist: Gus Li
Autumn has always been Zak's favorite season for hiking and camping. Not to mention breathing in all that crisp fall air and sitting around toasty bonfires. That all changed a year and a half ago when a rich prick high on prescription pills sideswiped Zak while he was out biking.
Now his days are filled with pain and limited mobility. No more camping. No more trails. Zak's life as he knew it is gone forever.
Back at his beloved stomping grounds, Zak is ready to say hello and goodbye one last time. But when a cry from the frigid Lake Superior waters throws him into the role of a rescuer, more than just his life hangs in the balance. Little did Zak know how much one person giving a damn mattered to him.
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Bisexual Urban Fantasy
Also available in paperback for $9.99.
Excerpt - Chapter One
Crimson, hot pink, burnt orange, and a dark purple lit the sky and splashed over the calm waters of Lake Superior. Dusk had fallen in all its beauty, gracing Zak with the perfect moment at his favorite stomping grounds. If he had to go, and well… yeah, he couldn't ask for anything better than this. Tonight was the night. Had to be.
Water lapped at the boat, rocking it gently. A breeze wafted over Zak. He shivered, then hugged himself as he looked over the lake, back at Madeline Island. Like each night over the past few days, a pang of longing hit him. Zak had said his goodbyes, accepted the fate handed to him, knew better than to hold on to dreams he could never have. He should have been able to take the next step.
But he couldn't.
Each night he rowed back to his rental cabin, Quiet Bequest, in defeat. What the hell he held on for, Zak didn't have a clue. His heart thumped heavily, his palms slipped over the oars, and the hair on his arms stood up—goose bumps everywhere—as if something big were about to happen.
Well, yeah, something huge if Zak could get his head on straight. Well, maybe not straight—his plan was utter ridiculousness to the outside observer. Made sense to him, though. But then it would.
Anticipation rode Zak hard. He knew what he had to do. Planned it. Came determined. This trip, the two-week cabin retreat he could never afford, the rowboat--my accident—had been in the works for months. And now… now Zak cowered in his waterlogged rowboat.
"Fuck."
Zak pulled the oars into the boat, gave his tackle and rod a sidelong glance, and turned. All he had to do was get out of the damn boat and into the water. Simple as that.
"Just, just do it, fucker."
Water lapped at the boat, rocking it gently. A breeze wafted over Zak. He shivered, then hugged himself as he looked over the lake, back at Madeline Island. Like each night over the past few days, a pang of longing hit him. Zak had said his goodbyes, accepted the fate handed to him, knew better than to hold on to dreams he could never have. He should have been able to take the next step.
But he couldn't.
Each night he rowed back to his rental cabin, Quiet Bequest, in defeat. What the hell he held on for, Zak didn't have a clue. His heart thumped heavily, his palms slipped over the oars, and the hair on his arms stood up—goose bumps everywhere—as if something big were about to happen.
Well, yeah, something huge if Zak could get his head on straight. Well, maybe not straight—his plan was utter ridiculousness to the outside observer. Made sense to him, though. But then it would.
Anticipation rode Zak hard. He knew what he had to do. Planned it. Came determined. This trip, the two-week cabin retreat he could never afford, the rowboat--my accident—had been in the works for months. And now… now Zak cowered in his waterlogged rowboat.
"Fuck."
Zak pulled the oars into the boat, gave his tackle and rod a sidelong glance, and turned. All he had to do was get out of the damn boat and into the water. Simple as that.
"Just, just do it, fucker."