Here is a taste of the first chapter of the first book in a 5-series in the genre of adult urban fantasy. It is a mixture of journal entries, narration, and artwork—full page sketches I’m creating for each chapter.
In memory of the year 1994, who died peacefully in its home located at what was previously the end of a disastrous 1993 and the culmination of 3.37 years of glory days with Jon. Sara likes to think of those days that way. Glory days. The days of tequila shots and hours of lavish sweaty sex. Those years were transcendent—intoxicating. Ecstasy can only be experienced not described; it is not merely living, it is seeing death because it demands the fear of giving everything of yourself to someone—like standing at the edge of a cliff waiting for the wind to sweep you off—and knowing that eventually, it would come.
I began to think of this year as the Year of Men and Madness. It’s true that toward the end of 1993 I was descending into a ghastly embrace of time falling apart. At times, I felt barely alive as if I was crawling through my days, fingernails digging into the carpet, sucking at the air to find breath, and finally falling asleep to Cohen under noise cancelling headphones to block the screaming inside my head. How many times did I hide in the stairwell at work to endure a panic attack in private? Sitting on the cold cement, sweating, shaking, trying to pull my mind back into my body, I would pray no one would take the stairs.
In lieu of funeral services for 1994, Sara celebrates its life by memorializing the oddities—the men and madness who participated in distracting her from those months of consternation that followed the demise of the glory days and preceded the finale of 1994. Among the many accomplishments, 1994 liberated her spirit and delivered a reprieve and solace that blotted out the cold fog and drowned out the wailing screams in her head.
Yet, not all fairy tales have happy endings.
Sara’s commemoration for 1994 begins with a man named Connor for he was both the genesis and the final curtain of the year—a man with so many facets she couldn’t explore them fast enough in the time he had on Earth. As things tend to fall apart, within the year he died—an actual death at the hand of leukemia at age 27.
It wasn’t the last tragedy—1994 had more in store for Sara.