Hey Everyone!
Good morning, and thanks so much for stopping by. I am so excited and thrilled and grateful for the release of, This Morning I Woke Up Dead anywhere books are sold and featured on Amazon and Goodreads.com. I've decided to share the first chapter! Please feel free to comment and ask questions and wonder, what if?
Enjoy and have a wonderful day!
Chapter
One
Hadley
Today
when I woke up, my reality changed irrevocably. Life as I knew it was forever altered. Powerful just to say the least.
Other
than the fact that I am not alive, things remain similar. The sun is out. Birds
are singing. Kids are laughing on their way to school. I look the same: blonde
wavy hair that hits just below my bra strap; icy gray eyes with the ability to
stare anyone into submission. I'm average height and weight. I'm twenty five
years old. Now for the things that most might find unusual. Things that most
would be alarmed by. But not me. I know better. Blood does not technically flow
through my body. Nor does my heart beat. I do not need oxygen to breathe or
food and water to sustain myself. For lack of a better explanation, I am for
all intents and purposes, dead.
No one else knows, but they are all dead too.
Choosing to ignore the signs and living an easier existence is fine for most.
It was fine for me too. Before. Before I realized the truth. As soon as I knew
the truth, it all vanished. My life as I knew it was over. Leaving a black hole
in my soul, an ache that would haunt me into oblivion. My fiancé. My family. My
job. All of it is inaccessible. That's how it works. The only way it can. This
is the part that I am not so crazy about. I can see them. Feel them. Hear them.
I can't communicate with them. I know they are there. But they have no idea
where I am. It's horrendous to be so close and yet so very far away.
So,
you're probably wondering how did I die? Well, the better question might be:
when did I realize that I was never alive? Not in the traditional sense.
No
one on Earth is alive.
Think
of Earth as one enormous waiting room. On Earth, we can do all the things
needed to learn and grow for the next cycle of life. Life on Earth is a practice
run. A dress rehearsal. While we're on Earth we can play. Love. Find our
talents. Those who are smart, use them. It's a pity that not near enough of the
population do. Most waste their time on Earth gossiping, arguing, spending too
much money, worrying about anything and everything. We cause pain. To ourselves
and others. The opposite of living. Why? I don't know. What I do know is that
love, being happy, and feeling gratitude for everyone and everything is all its
really about. Why most get distracted with negativity and ugliness is beyond
me. Not that I was perfect during my rehearsal but I fought like hell to be
close. I
always
chose joy. I counted my blessings. I had everything. A job I enjoyed. Money for
the goods and services I needed. A family who loved and cared for me. And the
best part of my prior existence, I had Love; he was my best friend. I was
grateful for him. For my life. For all of it. I was rewarded with an abundance of worldly
attributes. The truth.
Perhaps
that is why most chose not to believe in the reality. It’s less frightening
being in the dark about it. When I was a child, I was terrified of every unlit
hallway and corner. Forget about closets and under the beds. Hell no was I
going to go down to the basement after dark. I always imagined the worst case
scenarios. Robbers. Monsters. Ghosts. An intimidating gruesome boogeyman always
ready and waiting to pounce and steal me into the purple darkness. Luckily, a
blue light from the waxing moon provided enough of a glow in my bedroom and
prevented that from ever happening.
“Hadley,”
my mom would call. “Get that blanket off your head; you'll suffocate.”
With
a sigh, I would manage to pacify my mom by making an air hole just large enough
for my nose to be seen. Back then I was terrified of the things that went bump
in the night. Things that I couldn't see but somehow sense were there.
I
didn't go to my funeral. I didn't think I could bear the pain of seeing them all crying out for me.
When it was I that was crying for them. They were sad for the wrong reasons.
The only thing separating us is ignorance.
*
“You
were called 'Hadley'?” The only other person I have met so far in this realm,
asks me. A glint of a smile hints at the corner of his full lips.
“Yes.”
Looking down, I see that I am wearing my favorite pair of dark wash skinny
jeans, nude heels, and navy polka dotted top. As well as my signature cream
cardigan. I don't remember putting this outfit on.
“You
can choose another name.” Logan looks at me with his fierce green eyes and then
continues, “You know, if you want to be called something more,” he breaks eye
contact and looks off at some nearby Earth kids. They're picking flowers and
saying, 'he loves me, he loves me not.' Shaking his head, Logan says,
“Traditional.”
“Hadley
is fine. Can they sense us?” I point at the redheaded little girl. She is
giggling about something.
He
shrugs. “Sometimes. Sometimes not. Instead of they, we refer to them as
Unknowns.”
I
nod, and I finally understand what the chilling spine tingle I had sometimes
felt truly was.
I
am now a boogeyman. Mom would be so proud. Way to face your fears, Hadley,
she'd chide. Or so I imagine.
Logan
takes my hand and leads me down the sidewalk. “It’s best if you don't linger
around the ones you knew. It can be,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “Painful,
seeing them moving on without you, and as if you never mattered.”
I
wonder if Logan is speaking from experience. It’s more or less obvious, but I
don't feel comfortable enough to ask.
Logan
laughs and says, “They seem so clueless. I mean, we practically beg them to
figure it out. Why else would one have a bullet hole wound in their head unless
they were already dead?”
“Some
have bullet hole wounds?” If I appear shocked he pays me no mind.
“Oh,
sure. And puncture wounds, or scars where they were mutilated in accidents, or
burned by nasty chemicals. But don't worry; most never notice their prior
battle wounds.”
I
cringe, and not for the first time, I wish I was still an Unknown. Luckily, I
didn't find any outrageous scars or mutilations; I figured it out a different
way.
Logan
snorts, hiding a laugh at my discomfort.
“How
did you figure it out?” I ask, wondering if Logan has a visible mark somewhere on his flawless
appearance. The man is chiseled. He wears his black formed fitted T shirt and
faded jeans very well. If I were to guess, I'd say he was about five years or
so older than me.
He
catches me eyeing his biceps and squints. It is almost a wink. “Sorry, can't
tell you. And don't you tell me how you did either.”
I
sigh. “But why?” I feel like we could bond over this.
“Don't
get all whiny and Earthly on me, kid. You're supposed to be above all that
now.” Logan leans down and says, “If we tell each other how,” his lip curls as
he continues, “The more we will want to tell the Unknowns. And that, darling,
is forbidden.”
“Why?”
“No
one will learn that way. You have to find out for yourself or you aren't deemed
worthy to be here. You must be enlightened.”
“Makes
sense. I guess.” Then I ask, “So what am I supposed to do now?”
“How
about I tell you what you can't do and everything else is fair game, okay?”
Against
my better judgment, I nod; I am craving information. Especially information they don't
require me to figure out alone.
“You
can't make contact with The Unknowns.”
“That's
it?”
Logan
nods. “That's it. But believe me its harder than you think not to.”
“What
happens if I do?” I immediately think of Dominic. My love.
Logan
looks me in the eye, reaching into me with his demanding gaze. He emphasizes
each word, “You don't even wanna know.” After a beat, Logan laughs sardonically. Confusing
me a little.
Pondering
his statement for a moment, I wonder, I am already dead, what's the worst
that can happen to me now?
Logan
clears his throat and says, “Okay, so, Hadley.” The way he says my name- as if he is spitting
out glass- makes me turn away from him. My face flushes. I see that the kids
are no longer picking daisies. They have moved on to torturing bugs, pulling
the legs off of a daddy long leg, laughing at him as he tries to crawl away.
Logan flashes them an indignant look and shakes his head in disapproval.
“You
listening?” Logan prods.
I
nod.
“Okay,
so first things first. We’re all spirit guides here, we help the Unknowns. Come
with me and let’s find out what your assignment is.” Logan steps over and
around the bugs but through the kids, making the red head shiver. Seems sort of
backwards to me, avoiding bugs in favor of passing through children. But who am
I to judge?
“Assignment?
Like a job?”
“Yeah.
But we base your, job,” like my name, he says the word as if it tastes
sour. “On what you're talents are,” he snorts a laugh. Why he found it funny, I
have no idea. “We don't work just for the sake of working and getting money. We
do it for fulfillment. Because we like what we're doing.”
“Huh.
Sounds good.”
“Yeah,
it’s real nice,” he says with a lot of sarcasm.
I
raise my brows questioningly.
“Never
mind.” The way he has says this lets me know not to press him. What a tease.
Tempting me with his knowledge that is just out of my reach is something I feel
he enjoys.
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