When Grim Reaper Daria saves the life of her forbidden soulmate, she unleashes a rogue Darkness hell-bent on gaining heavenly powers and becoming a god on earth. She’ll need the protection of her band of reapers to prevent a descent into madness, rescue the love of her life, and save the souls of her city.
Mid-afternoon, with a soft breeze and a light blue sky, is the perfect time to die. The soul seeps from the pores in a melodic lilt, rises toward the heavens, and hovers just above its host. The body, having lost its connection with the physical world, loses its luster. Skin darkens, the temperature falls, limbs harden. Life ends. The world goes on. Trees breathe, branches sway, and leaves rustle. It’s a glorious moment.
Then I come and fuck things up.
When it’s your appointment time with death, a burn sears in my skin, humming, and vibrating until I pay heed. To make matters worse, it’s always at the most inconvenient times, like when I’m showering. A golden glow will rise from my flesh. I’ll roll my eyes, because death never comes at the right time, and swipe a hand down my forearm, where a map lies just beneath the skin.
Unlike your normal map with streets or lines or hills or lakes, it’s made of Light and looks like a tree. It shows energy, spirits, souls due to fade. Nearby someone’s appointment is any day now. Another life passing on, going from here to the next place, never to live again.
Then here I come, from wherever, ready to take a hand in mine. Ready to reap.