Despite having grown up in a loving family, seventeen-year-old Gracie always felt different. When a car accident causes her to hear a voice filled with love and longing, she embarks on a journey of discovering how different she really is. Even before she meets him in person, Gracie is inexplicably-but irresistibly-drawn to Luke, a new guy in town who is somehow able to communicate with not only her thoughts but her heart. Just as she is recovering from the accident and getting to know Luke better, Gracie's parents reveal the real circumstances of her birth, causing Gracie to question everything about her life. More revelations come to light when Luke explains that the two of them have been Tutelary Guides in previous lives. Tutelary Guides are given to some humans; some are good, while others are evil. Although Gracie has always been a good guide, Luke has had to struggle to overcome his wicked nature. Despite their differences, Gracie and Luke fell in love while assigned to the same human four hundred years ago. They were discovered and granted human lives-lives in which they have reunited, only to be destroyed by Darcia, Luke's former leader. Reunited once again, this time against the dramatically beautiful landscape of Montana, Gracie and Luke must work together to defeat Darcia and the forces she has sent to destroy them as part of her plan to take over the world. But can Luke stay strong enough not to revert to his former nature, and is their love solid enough to overcome evil?
Graceful Intentions
By Mel BerryBALBOA PRESS
Copyright © 2012 Mel Berry
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4525-0629-6Chapter One
"Gracie! Don't!" he pleaded softly, cautiously.
He was so close to me. It was almost like his voice was coming from inside of me, as if he were a part of me. I was positive I had never heard this voice before, but it sounded safe, stunning, and somehow familiar. The awareness of it left me mystified. The love and anguish in his voice caressed my mind and soul. It consumed me in those two little words. It was demanding, devouring, and the anguish in his voice dazed me.
"Gracie!"
He was in full panic now. I instantly buckled under the weight of the fear that radiated from him. It startled me out of the haze I had been lost in. I looked in front of me and then down—down past the jagged rocks that would surely cut me into diced, bite-sized pieces for the wildlife to consume. I looked down past the razor-sharp bushes that would inevitably be decorated with my bones. I looked down to the rushing rapids that, should I survive the rocks, bushes, and the hundred-metre drop, would engulf me in an ever-churning white water. They would continually persist until I was well and truly deceased. I was being pulled in both directions. Half of me felt like I needed to jump, not caring about what would happen afterwards; not caring that it would be painful for my family or friends; and not caring that it would no doubt be an agonizing and prolonged death. Something was tempting me to jump, and I could not understand why. I had never been suicidal before; I loved my life and my family. But this feeling was unrelenting and hard to fight.
"Gracie! Please!"
The whisper was there again—so near, so real, so desperate. His voice was aching in such a way that I felt his pain shoot through every fibre of my being. The other half of me (his half) was screaming, almost begging me to move back and to step away from impending death. Was I going crazy? The pull towards the cliff's edge grabbed hold of me again, and I was perplexed. It was overpowering. As the dark emotions crept forward in my mind and I was about to take that fatal step, his voice caressed me again.
"Gracie, I need you!" his begging pierced me. The veracity that I shared his emotions stunned and bewildered me. I felt every sentiment along with him. They burned within. I couldn't explain it—the longing, the yearning, the hunger, all of it, and so much more. There were no words to describe it. The magnitude of reactions flashed through me. I felt an adoration and an innate desire, sadness, and regret, but most of all, I felt pain. There was a devastating agony in his voice that caused a sob to break out from deep inside my chest. I was overwhelmed, and it suppressed my urge to jump. I took a breath and held on to it to focus on my options and their consequences. The pain would be worse than losing him. Losing me would destroy him.
This reality flooded through me as I understood that if I were to perish, then he would too. My family would go on, and my friends would forget, but he would not; he would not survive this. And I could not allow that. I could not lose him—not now. The thought of him not living was more painful than dying. I didn't even know this mystery voice, but the chance that I would lose what I didn't have was a chance I could not risk. Finally, I felt determination spread through me like the ever-churning rapids of the river below. It would be hard, but together, we would survive. He needed me as much as I needed him.
Like a message from upstairs, the sun suddenly broke through the cloud-drenched sky. The cloud cover was so dark and dense that it gave the illusion of early evening instead of the middle of the day. Only one tiny little sliver of light flooded through and surrounded me like a spotlight—a spotlight full of love, understanding, and warmth. It was a spotlight that seemed to radiate a certainty to fight for everything I desired—with everything I had.
Finally the risks hit me, and I slowly took a step backwards—towards safety. Don't get me wrong—it was difficult, like swimming against a current—but I forced myself to ignore the urge to move towards death and focused on the pull of the voice and the warmth of his love. After one step, I made another and another until I backed into his body. I allowed his warm frame to support my weight as I slumped down into a ball, curling my legs to my chest and holding them in place as though without the grasp I would rise to my feet and run towards the cliff edge again. And this time, I would not stop. I would throw myself to the gruesome death that was awaiting me. The warmth of the sun slowly faded as my spotlight saviour returned to the heavens. I was so self-absorbed that I didn't realize I was shaking until his body moved around in front of me, blocking the cliff's edge. All of a sudden, I was in an unbreakable yet comforting and loving embrace.
"Gracie," he whispered gently, his voice full of relief and hope. Hope for what, though? A future? A shiver ran down my spine at the idea. The relief in his voice was sobering. The embrace sent a feeling of fire and unending love throughout my body. I relaxed into his hold and allowed his presence to engulf the remaining need to end my life. It felt safe here. It felt like home—but not the home I shared with my parents and sister. It felt like a new home that would be my forever, my happily ever after.
"Gracie," he whispered again. The passion in his voice was intense. "I love you."
It was all but a whisper, but there was a certainty about it that made my heart swell. His voice was fading, though the embrace never faltered. I had no image of him in my head. I needed to attach a face to this perfect voice. I lifted my head from my arms and looked into the face of ...
Chapter Two
Into the face of my father?
What the—? He was calling to me gently.
"Gracie?" he urged. "Gracie, can you hear me?"
I tried hard to focus on my father's face, feeling disorientated, confused, and overwhelmed.
My eyes were burning from the bright lights above me. I cringed at the fluorescent beams that stabbed sharp pains through my eyes. The stinging sensation only increased the pounding headache I already felt. I blinked several times, and my eyes watered from the pain and intensity. I was blinded for about half a minute before my eyes adjusted to the brightness. Noises all around pulled me further into consciousness, and I looked into my father's relieved eyes, both petrified and with questions.
"Gracie," my father murmured.
I missed the voice from my dream, but at this moment, I could only mourn for it, ache for it. To experience that love but not know who it was tormented me. My heart was aching, and I couldn't even put a face to the voice. All I knew was that I loved him—wholly and solely—even now.
"It's going to be okay, sweetheart."
Forcing myself to look into my father's eyes, I noticed they were full of concern and were red and bloodshot. I'd never seen my father cry—not even when we lost his mother a couple of years ago. The incessant beeping noise in my ear started to increase in momentum as panic began to rise through me. Was I connected to a heart monitor? Why? I was beginning to feel nervous because I had no idea where I was and how I had gotten there. I examined my father more closely now. His face had a few cuts and bruises, and there were more on his arms, which he was using to try to calm me. I tried to sit up to see where I was, feeling...
