Paranormal Keepers
by Jen Naumann
Publication date: March 11th 2014
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Young Adult
Publication date: March 11th 2014
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Young Adult
Synopsis:
Everyone thinks Harper Young killed her boyfriend. No one will say it to her face, but the signs are everywhere.
It’s almost been a year since Gavin was torn from Harper’s arms and brutally murdered. The police wrote it off as a freak accident, deciding Harper’s strange testimony was given under duress. But she knows something unnatural was involved and refuses to stop looking until she finds his killer, even if it means her reputation as a senior is ruined. Even if it means there really are monsters living among us.
With the discovery of the mothmen, witches, vampires and all the creatures she always suspected were out there, Harper finds herself amidst a complex bundle of unseen heroes who call themselves “Keepers”, sworn to keep the secret of the paranormal creatures that walk this earth. As she tries to understand what’s so special about her that she’s able to break an old Keeper law, Harper has a baffling vision of kissing a mysterious guy before a blade is brought down on him. Before she can get a handle on her future, she becomes central to a battle between the questionable “heroes” and the evil she’s been training to fight, leaving her to wonder if there’s any way to change the fate that has been foretold before it’s too late.
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AS SOON AS I’M
LOGGED IN, my online friend is waiting to greet me in our private chat room,
like always. It’s almost as if we’ve created a mental link to each other,
always checking in at the exact same time.
Vhunter: you’re
home early
GhostGrl: night
was a major waste of my time
Vhunter: that
great, huh?
GhostGrl: after
all this time u would think *something* would happen
Vhunter: I still
believe you
GhostGrl: why do
I get the feeling ur the only one who ever will?
Vhunter: I
thought you were past caring what other ppl think
GhostGrl: I care
what *u* think
Vhunter: doesn’t
matter, I can’t physically be there for you
GhostGrl: I
wouldn’t b so sure. u r the only thing that got me through this summer
Vhunter: thank
your parents for finally getting internet at your cabin...would’ve been boring
without you
GhostGrl: I m
sure u would’ve found something else to do until 3 AM
Vhunter: but then
you would’ve gotten far too much sleep
Leaning away from
my laptop, I flop across my bed, staring at the plastic stars I stuck to the
ceiling so many years ago. In elementary I was all about mythology. Most kids
would’ve slapped the stickers on and called it a day, but I arranged them
according to a star chart I found in an astronomy book. Where the big dipper
used to be there’s now a sad, lonely cluster of four. For a time I believed
that I would be one of those rare souls to see the two unseen stars in the
pattern, and would become immortal because of it. I used to think I was
something special, somehow destined for greatness, blah blah blah.
My brother’s
obnoxious country music seeps through the wall separating us, its beat
painfully slow and murky, a girl’s voice most likely twanging about being okay
without a man in her life. I arch my back, stretching out to bang on the wall.
When nothing happens, I crank the volume on my laptop, letting the boys of
Panic at the Disco drown out his pathetic taste. Soon Trey is banging on the
wall from the other side.
Laughing
triumphantly, I turn back to my laptop.
Vhunter: still
there?
GhostGrl: yeah,
just picturing what life will be like when I finally break outta here. u
suppose I can major in ghost hunting?
Vhunter: if not,
there’s always your guitar
My gaze flutters
across the room to where my prized black beauty rests against the fluffy pink
chair that I haven’t bothered to replace since my tastes dramatically changed.
I never took lessons and learned to play tunes by ear.
“Vhunter” knows
enough about me to understand the wooden instrument is almost like another extension
of me, something I’ll never be able to give up. Whenever I play, my darkest
worries become a low static that’s drowned out by bright notes, the vibrations
of power cords, and sharp tunes of fingerpicked solos. The taunting of my old
friends, the complicated relationship with my parents, my need to prove to the
world that I’m not insane, all of it’s swallowed by my strumming. Still, it’s
nothing I could ever make into a career.
GhostGrl: u say
that like you’ve actually heard me play before
Vhunter: you know
I’d love to. name a time and a place, I will b there. time we meet anyway
The thought of
actually meeting my online friend sends my pulse racing. His avatar is of a
shaggy brunette around my age with a square face and olive-toned skin, eyes the
warmest shade of brown I’ve ever seen, a somewhat crooked nose that looks like
it may have been broken a time or two, and a wide mouth with lips curled at the
edges in a barely-there smile. Not quite movie star handsome, but after talking
with him nearly every day for almost an entire year, I’ve become majorly
attracted to him regardless.
My own avatar—a
cartoon woman with bright green eyes, perfectly curled blond hair, and a
gleaming smile over bright white teeth—was picked out from the scant choices
given to me when opening an account on the folklore chat room and looks
absolutely nothing like the real me.
I’ve returned to
my natural dark hue, another change after my status as a social pariah was set
in stone. It matches the chunky black glasses I wear at home, and intensifies
the glow of my nearly golden orbs. My dad used to tell me I was special
because not many people have eyes the exact same eye color, but I’ve always
worn colored contacts in public. Now that I don’t care as much what people
think, I’ve considered giving up on the contacts. I’ve already stopped doing a
lot of normal things since Gavin was killed.
AUTHOR BIO:
Jen Naumann grew up in southern Minnesota as an addict of such flicks as Indiana Jones and The Goonies until she discovered John Hughes, and spent her high school days locked away writing love stories with a sci-fi twist. Married to a farmer in southern Minnesota, she tries to follow the madness of her four active children while balancing an imagination that never shuts down. As the author of CHEATING DEATH, SHYMERS, AND PARANORMAL KEEPERS, she writes stories with strong female leads who have a good sense of humor and tend to fall in love despite their better judgment. For more on Jen visit her website www.JenNaumann.net.
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