Transcending Nirvana (Dark Evoke #3) (30 page)

Raised in a creative family, witnessing one another expressing themselves through creativity, albeit musically or through a form of literature, it was only a matter of time before my passion for devising characters and their unique stories in their own world, began to form and grow. From there the seed was sown and flourished into a young girls dream.

I am a mother of a 6 year old son who knows how to keep me on my toes in our South Wales home, self-confessed garlic freak and coffee addict. If I’m not writing or constantly thinking about writing, then I can be found either chasing my son around, with my nose in book or being creative in the kitchen.

In writing this series, it was my intent to not only evoke the same feelings in the reader which they would experience while watching a friend or a loved one in the same situation as Kady, but to also give an insight as to how the victim of domestic violence perceives the situation from the insiders perspective, and why is isn’t easy to just leave.

One thing I ask of you when writing a review is to please be sensitive with how you approach the topic of domestic violence. Thousands of people live this way, with hundreds unaware that they are in fact in an abusive relationship. Abuse isn’t just physical. And while I am aware that this story will most probably be a topic of controversy, and may have had you, as the reader, frustrated, I hope that I was able to portray and demonstrate the sensitive matters in which the mistreated party is subjected to. Furthermore, I hope that it brings a deeper understanding as to why getting out of the situation isn’t as easy as saying the words, ‘Just leave him/her’.

I read every comment, every review, message and email that I receive, so please feel free to connect with me. I have thoroughly enjoyed experimenting with my writing style, and demonstrating the different foundations which relationships are built upon. Each page and each chapter I write, I am learning more, not only about my characters, but about myself. As long as I maintain this journey, perception, astuteness and knowledge will never cease.

I love to hear your comments about any of my works. Please feel free to connect with me on
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There is a saying which I have carried with me since writing this series: ‘Place a frog in boiling water, it will jump out. Place it in simmering water and it will sit there and boil.’

To both women and men of domestic violence. It can get better. You hold the power.

~ Impulses ~

“The day we first met, you said, ‘Before we begin’. Well, that was the beginning…it was the beginning of us.”

After a disastrous end to a far less than perfect relationship, twenty-four year old, Samantha Kennedy has traveled the path of promiscuity in order to strive for affirmation of her desirability. Unknown to her, Samantha’s beliefs of the world of men, is about to chart a new course when she begins a new position at reputable law-firm, Wentworth and Associates, and sets her eyes on her boss, San Francisco’s tall, dark and handsome, renowned lawyer, Hayden Wentworth.

After suffering the aftermath of his first love and having his heartbroken, thirty-one year old, Hayden Wentworth has lived the past year in black and white. Haunted by demons as a result of the torment he has endured, Hayden’s bleak world is about to be revived by his attractive new secretary, and sexual predator, Samantha Kennedy.

Emotions that the pair long ago abandoned to save themselves any further heartache are unearthed, but should love ever be considered as a game of Russian roulette?

If they are to come together, Samantha and Hayden must relive their pasts in order to bury them for once and for all.

But what happens when you fall deeply and desperately in love with someone who has the traits of the one person who you strive every day to hate and resent?

With two lives, one broken, one reckless, both hurt, Impulses, is steamy yet emotional, dark and a very deep story. Centered on varying problems which arise in relationships, Impulses shows how you can be shattered by voices of inner demons, yet saved by love, strength and persistence. Sometimes indulging in your impulses is a way to stray from your fears. Sometimes, it is the only way to face them.

~ Seeking Nirvana: The Dark Evoke Series (#1) ~

****CONTAINS AN ELEMENT OF PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE, AND IS THEREFORE ONLY RECOMMENDED TO READERS OVER THE AGE OF 18****

They say that old habits die hard, and twenty-seven year old, Kady Jenson, is about to discover how true that statement actually is.

Waking up in the hospital with a complete stranger at her bedside should have caused panic and confusion, but for a reason unknown to her, Kady finds herself drawn and calmed by the presence of the rugged, devastatingly handsome man with the pleasant Irish brogue.

It’s when she discovers that she has just woken from a four day coma, with a three year void in her memory, which spawns confusion and panic.

Kady soon comes to realize that things change with time, and not only appearances.

Not only is the sexual chemistry she once shared with her long-term boyfriend, now a long-ago memory, but Kady also begins to unconsciously fall back into unremembered habits, and with each day, the increasing sense of foreboding becomes increasingly harder to ignore.

Left on her own when her boyfriend goes on a business trip, Kady seeks help from the Irish stranger as they go on a quest together, in a race against time, to piece the puzzle together.

***AUTHORS NOTE***

This is the first installment of The Dark Evoke Series, and is therefore NOT intended as a standalone novel.

~ Eluding Nirvana: The Dark Evoke Series (#2) ~

****CONTAINS AN ELEMENT OF PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE, AND IS THEREFORE ONLY RECOMMENDED TO READERS OVER THE AGE OF 18****

Three years lost; a body marred and a mission complete.

Waking after a four day coma, Kady Jenson felt her life was crashing down around her. Three years of her memories were missing, and the compelling man at her side was not her years-long partner, but a stranger – a stranger who promised to help her recover what she had lost.

But how did Kady come to such a place?

What dark, mysterious events stole her past and threatened her future?

How did her lover become a stranger, and a stranger become so terribly important?

What happened to turn Kady’s orderly life into a terrifying nightmare which would leave her permanently marked, body and soul?

**AUTHORS NOTE**

Eluding Nirvana is the second installment of The Dark Evoke Series, and is therefore not intended as a standalone novel.

~ Transcending Nirvana: The Dark Evoke Series (#3) ~

****CONTAINS AN ELEMENT OF PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE, AND IS THEREFORE ONLY RECOMMENDED TO READERS OVER THE AGE OF 18****

Con·trol:

tr.v. con·trolled, con·trol·ling, con·trols

Noun

1. The power to influence or direct people's behaviour or the course of events.

2. To hold in restraint.

Survivor:

sur·vive

v. sur·vived, sur·viv·ing, sur·vives

v.intr.

1. To remain alive or in existence.

2. To carry on despite hardships or trauma.

Kady Jenson was a fighter.

For four days, she fought through the darkness of her unconscious, and for weeks she fought for answers as to why her long-term boyfriend was more of a stranger, while she felt so connected to the Irish stranger at her hospital bedside.

The apprehension, fear, anxiety, scars she had no memories of gaining and an unfamiliar passion which spawned each time she was in close proximity to the stranger, provided a wake-up call.

Receiving something she secretly craved helped regain the memories of the 3 years she had lost...and nothing could prepare her for the gut-wrenching truth.

Kady discovered she had gone from fighter to victim at the hands and manipulation of the one person she truly loved - The one person who was supposed to love and cherish her.

Beatings, emotional cruelty and mental torture were an everyday occurrence.

This was her life...

Now, she's back and so are her memories. With Irish at her side to protect her and maintain any residual fight she has left, can she finally break free of Liam's hold?

What remained left of the fighter, fought to discover that she, at the lowest point of her life, was a victim.

Now she must continue to battle against the darkness before she can call herself A SURVIVOR.

**AUTHORS NOTE**

Transcending Nirvana is the third and final installment of The Dark Evoke Series, and is therefore not intended as a standalone novel.

~ Atonement ~

Genre: Crime, Psychological Thriller.

Release Date: Winter 2015.

Copyright © V.L. Brock 2015

When journalist Lyndsey Foster found herself placed on the hardest assignment of her career, she didn’t expect her morals and beliefs to be pushed and tested.

To accept the assignment was easy enough; to step foot inside of Texas’ notorious Mountain View Unit, and interview someone on Death Row, wasn’t as simple…

Teena Bradford had spent years on Death Row for her crime. With only four days left to tell her version of events, painful memories and catalysts for her actions are retold, leaving both journalist and inmate asking two life altering questions:

Should life mean life?

And can a remorseless Tenna, in her final four days, atone for her crime?

~ A sneak peek ~

Copyright © V.L. Brock 2015

Prologue

The rain was beating against his car so ferociously that he may have well been caught in the world’s most brutal hailstorm. The wipers squealed against the glass as they worked quickly to eradicate each splatter and streak distorting his vision. Thankfully, the traffic was light, although, that was to be expected with it being early hours of the morning. Three forty-five to be exact.

When he had received the phone call, telling him the cliff notes version of what had happened, and where he was needed, he had sighed as though the call had just torn him from the deepest slumber he had had in a year. That couldn’t have been further away from fact. This was the one part of his career which never got easier. It was the one part which was often the catalyst of many, many nightmares.

The leather steering wheel saw the brunt end of his exasperation, and with his blinded gaze resting on his thighs, he sighed a burdensome sigh, mentally preparing himself for the worst. That was another thing they had taught him at the academy: expect the worst. Still, nothing could truly prepare you for some of the horrifying sights you bear witness to in that line of duty.

With the sound of the downpour intensifying, he could almost discern each raindrop crashing to their fate against the hood, window, and sidewalk…a lot like some of the victims he’d seen in the fifteen years of his career. Each and every one of them meeting their end before their time was due. Each and every one of them––in their own way––responsible for his nights of insomnia.

The car shifted when the extra weight was lowered into the passenger side, with the door being slammed shut, echoing through the neighborhood of sleeping occupants.

“Darryl,” the husky voice broke through the silence from beside him. Nevertheless, Darryl never answered; he never did, still, that was something his new partner would have to discover for himself.

Within twenty minutes, Darryl pulled up along the sidewalk putting the unmarked car into park, before switching off the ignition. From behind the windshield, he could see it was a full scene: flashing lights, patrol cars and officers, forensics, ambulance, tape…

The tape was the worst. You knew that behind it lay something brutal, something which needs to be kept unsullied, and in his line of duty, Darryl Stephens had seen countless harsh, stomach-cinching pieces of evidence behind those plastic ribbons.

“Do you think it’s as bad as the scene makes it out to be?” the small voice, which had equally matched Stephens’ a long time ago, sounded from beside him.

He turned to face the man which looked more of a boy, and took a deep breath. How could he prepare this kid? What lay beyond that strewing of criminal tape could either hold no effect for his new partner, or it could be the first scene which would plague his dreams. Alone time will cease to be an option. Laying in the tub and hearing the drips from the faucet rippling into the water, all the while visualizing and reflecting, as you step into the shoes of both the victim and the perpetrator…the mind ruthlessly playing either tricks or doing continuous circles.

“Just prepare yourself, kid,” was the only advice he could offer before ejecting himself from the vehicle and kicking the door closed, his suited body soaked to the skin within mere moments.

The houses appeared well maintained along the block. Not your typical rundown neighborhood, or back alleys where you’d expect to find trouble. This thought alone saw the blood in Darryl’s veins turn icy, while the patrol officers guarding the top of the path, allowed both men through with an acknowledging tip of their heads, once they’d flashed their badges.

Each step he took had his feet sinking further into the sludge. But it wasn’t the slop which almost failed to keep the thirty-seven year old, tall, muscular man from maintaining his posture. It was his heart quickening under his ribcage, as he silently primed himself for the visual he’d been imagining since picking up the call from his brisk encounter with sleep.

“Detective Stephens, thank you for coming on such short notice,” an old man holding a hefty black umbrella over his head, shook his hand, practically ignoring his partner standing over his shoulder, as droplets fall into his squinting eyes.

“It’s part of the job, right? So what have we got?”

All three of the men ducked beneath the yellow tape. Forensics men and woman in white bodysuits made their way to-and-fro, while inspectors set out marked boards alongside each crucial piece of evidence, no matter how insignificant it may be. Each step they took into the center of the crime scene had both Darryl’s and the kid’s stomach tying into knots.

“Male, late-twenties to early-thirties.”

“Name?”

The man shook his head solemnly.

“John Doe it is then.”

“It was called in at twelve twenty-six, the phone records show the call came from this address, but the suspect insists it wasn’t her,” the man finished, handing his umbrella to the kid then lowering into a crouch. Between his fingers, he grasped the zipper of the black, shiny body-bag where John Doe laid. “You might want to prepare yourselves, boys.”

“Nothing can prepare you for what you see in this job,” Darryl flipped off then licked his lips. Knowing what had to be done, he took a deep breath. “Open him up.”

The night and the downpour swallowed the grating noise of the zipper lowering. The plastic being pulled open, offering an unobstructed view of the victim, on the other hand, wasn’t as silent.

His swollen face was painted in blood, his eye sockets already bruising, whereas the coagulated, deep red, practically black blood oozed from the numerous hollows of his skull. Fingers were missing from his hand, his eyelids removed from his face.

“We’re pulling up his dental records. There’s still a few left…” the man lifted the gashed lip of the victim, displaying numerous missing teeth.

Stephens groaned.

“We haven’t come across any wea––”

The man was interrupted by an officer ten feet from where the body of the mutilated John Doe was laying lifeless. “Boss, we got something here,” he called out, dropping the shovel and hauling a duffle bag from the sludge.

“What is it?”

“I’m guessing, the murder weapons,” the man answered the kid’s question.

Making their way towards the new found evidence, Darryl felt his stomach raising, the bitter taste of dread torturing as it plastered itself over his tongue. Sometimes, preparing yourself to see the murder weapon is more daunting than seeing the result upon the victim.

Hammer, clippers, knives, pliers…and that was merely scraping the surface. God only knew what else that bag held.

“Who the Hell would do anything like this?”

With a loud outbreath, Detective Stephens looked up to where his new partner was standing, his face pale even through the darkness. He tapped him on the shoulder twice in an act to bring comfort, although he knew the boy would never find it, just like he failed to on his first homicide. Sometimes, words just aren’t enough to upkeep assurance and poise. However, the only ones which brought a form of comfort over the years were offered.

“That’s what we’re going to find out, kid.”