Continue the Cedarvale Series with
Playing the Game
Cedarvale, Book 2
A lifetime of dangers taught me to treat life like a chess game. Plan every move, every decision as if it's required for the win. One blunder, one mistake could cost me my life, or the lives of the people I love.
The more I play, the more I question….
Am I a pawn in someone else’s game or a queen in my own?
"His visage no longer frightened me, and for the second time in a decade, we were in each other’s presence. Glaring down the hallway like an old west showdown, the hostility palpated. His arrogance clouded him, choking the air like pungent cologne."
-Amelia M. Hosch, Playing the Game
Take a Look Inside:
The door creaked open, and light flooded the basement stairs. They descended into the main room, not yet illuminated. Frozen at the top, mom continued blissfully down. My vision fluttered between her walking and lifelessly floating. Her head cocked to the side when she realized I hadn’t followed. Quit stalling. My breathing lingered outside of my control, and the palms of my hands leaked my fear.
Halfway down the stairs, flashes of blood and torment stole my balance. The handrail saved me from tumbling forward. My legs weakened, and my insides liquified. The pressure descended and settled like a lead vest on my shoulders. The steps swirled under my feet. Get it together. The horrific torture slept under the rug, never to be spoken of again. My words narrowly escaped without breakfast.
“How is it not affecting you?”
“My life has not been as easy as you think. My power returned with my magic.”
“Could we train outside today?”
“Baby, you can’t avoid the basement.”
The pity in her eyes met my small and fragile voice. Her soft and understanding voice couldn’t top the static in my head and made it difficult to concentrate on her words. Her aura wrapped me in a comforting embrace, but it didn’t stop the film reel from playing in my mind’s eye. Evil witch. The harsh critic rose inside, offering its whispers to keep replaying the past. Monster.
Natalie’s piercing screams when the necklace tightened filled my ears and blended with mom’s tortured pleas of mercy. My racing mind refused to slow, dragging my body with it. Tremors spread up and down my limbs. My heart beat the rhythm of a war cry on my ribs, and my lungs refused to push oxygen to the rest of my body. Gray encroached on the edges of my sight as tears made it a blurry mess. Everyone would be better off if I had died at my apartment.
The words stayed locked in my head, but mom heard them anyway. A sturdy hand met my instability, and I descended to the wooden planks. Pathetic disgrace. Gentle fingertips moved my hair from my face and wiped my tears. Electricity buzzed along my skin. Avoiding eye contact, her search dove into my soul, and I clung to the energetic intrusion.
“Cassidy Grace, you have been close to death too many times for my poor heart.”
Acnos’ garden took control in the chaos, and his peace echoed in my mind. You are right where you need to be. My body-wracking sobs slowed, easing the weight in my chest. Mom knocked my knee, pulling me firmly back to the present. She stood and led the way, guaranteeing no escape from the triggering walls.
She wouldn’t give my breakdown another moment of her attention. My attention needed to focus on her, and I didn’t have another choice. Fake it ‘til you make it. Pushing the ball of churning emotions deep under a concrete slab, I reluctantly followed and positioned myself in the middle of the wide circle....