Some things are better left buried…Cassidy Jones isn’t one of them. Please support @CassidyJonesAdv on @Indiegogo. http://bit.ly/14Mh51H
Slouching against the concrete wall, Arthur King Junior tore another page from the Bible that had been slipped through the steel door’s tray slot that morning. It was a gift from a well-meaning prison guard who hoped the message inside would reform Arthur.
“Fat chance of that!” Arthur said loudly to no one in particular, since he was alone in the prison cell, which was a quarter of the size of his bedroom suite’s walk-in closet at his Seattle home. In fact, the dingy mattress on which his backside was now parked filled half of the concrete floor.
“Okay, fellas,” he addressed the prison guards who might be listening on the other side of the door. Or maybe they weren’t—Arthur really didn’t care. “Enough with the hot box already,” he blathered as he carefully folded the thin paper into an airplane. “Learned my lesson real good. The décor alone is punishment!”
He glanced up from his creation to look for a target. The tiny space boasted a stained white toilet, wall sink, square barred window near the ceiling, and cream-painted walls. Arthur actually didn’t mind the blandness of his surroundings. He liked being the only source of color, which he was, in his bright orange jumpsuit.
“Tell your colleague that I’m sorry for biting his hand,” he rambled on, referring to the prison guard he had sunk his teeth into when the man had ordered him to stop griping about what he was being served and move along in the cafeteria line. The assault had landed Arthur in solitary confinement for five days. He was on day two.
Narrowing his eyes on the toilet bowl, Arthur took aim. “I promise to be a good boy and eat all of my peas.” He launched the airplane. Hitting the toilet rim, it joined the other planes that had missed the mark on the floor.
Arthur spat a furious cuss word and savagely ripped another sheet from the Bible. “I’m bored, bored, bored, BORED!” he shouted like a petulant child, meticulously folding another plane. “Come on! This is prison! Where’s the action?”
As if a prayer had been answered—not that Arthur King Junior prayed—the alarm suddenly sounded.
Arthur straightened up on the mattress. Shouts, screams, and cheers could be heard under the blare of the alarm. When the unmistakable rapid pops from automatic weapons added to the commotion, Arthur eagerly jumped to his feet.
“Yeah! This is more like it!” he whooped, pumping his small fist in the air. Gleeful, he listened to the violent ruckus come closer, only feeling apprehension when the screaming, shouting, and gunfire entered his corridor.
Covering his ears, Arthur backed up to the concrete wall, wishing he had been satisfied with “bored.”
The corridor fell silent. Lowering his hands, Arthur listened. Footsteps echoed; heels clicked against the concrete. The commotion in the distance again sounded like a battlefield.
The clicking stopped outside his cell door.
“Arthur,” a woman’s voice sang from the other side, “stay clear of the door.”
BANG! Something struck the door with the force of a wrecking ball, denting the steel. Flattening his back to the wall, Arthur’s heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and fear. BANG! BANG! The door flew off the hinges, crashing into the wall inches from Arthur. The thrill of nearly being crushed by it brought a twisted smile to his weasel-like face.
A petite woman who looked like she was made of china, with the palest complexion and hair that Arthur had ever seen, stepped into the doorway. Sapphire eyes cold as glass regarded him from a classically beautiful face, framed by ivory curls. Her attire suggested that she was preparing to have tea with the Queen of England: a perfectly fitted, high-collared dress in dusty rose, a matching hat rimmed with a two-inch veil, pearl earrings, and lacy white gloves.
Arthur’s eyes slid down her delicately formed figure to her shapely calves, which appeared to be made of metal. Metal feet sported dusty rose pumps.
“My eyes are up here,” the woman lightly reprimanded.
Grinning, Arthur looked up into her icy eyes. “Brrrr.” He shivered playfully. “Where have you been all my life, gorgeous?”
“Behave,” she scolded, peeling the glove off her left hand, which shone with a metallic gleam. “Time to go.” She smiled at him sweetly. “Daddy wants you home for dinner.”
Throwing back his head, Arthur exploded with laughter.
If you have been living under a rock and haven’t heard about the adventures of Cassidy Jones, check out the first two books in the series:
One Girl. One Accident. One Incredible Superhero.
Cassidy Jones is your typical fourteen-year-old— that is, until a seemingly harmless accident in the laboratory of a world-renowned geneticist turns her world upside down. Discovering incredible strength, speed, and enhanced physical senses that defy logic, Cassidy embarks on an action-packed adventure that has her fighting for answers…and for her very life.
An Ancient Secret Has Come To Life, And Everyone On The Planet Is At Risk…
Two months after being infected with a strange retrovirus, Cassidy Jones continues to live a double life while she struggles to master her newly gained superpowers. High school has become the only normal thing left in her life—except for tall, dark, and handsome Emery Phillips, who shadows her every move, making sure she doesn’t reveal her secret. But when a sleepover at Catamount Mountain Zoo takes a menacing turn, all bets are off as Cassidy is drawn into another riveting and perilous mystery that threatens the planet.
Cassidy Jones and the Seventh Attendant, Book Three: Coming Spring 2013
Some secrets are better left buried…
When the mysterious Gavin Phillips returns to Seattle after a prolonged and unexplained absence, he threatens to expose fifteen-year-old Cassidy Jones’s incredible secret: she is a superhero. But his presence is far more sinister than she realizes, for it soon becomes apparent that his hidden agenda holds a dark and dangerous intent that will unleash an unparalleled evil upon an unsuspecting world. Can Cassidy stop him before all is lost?
Order an advanced copy by donating to the Indiegogo campaign: Cassidy Jones and the Seventh Attendant