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Origins: Guardian: The Killing Cure
Origins: Guardian: The Killing Cure
Origins: Guardian: The Killing Cure
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Origins: Guardian: The Killing Cure

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What if Ponce de Leon was right, and there truly exists a fountain of youth somewhere? Would you take a drink? Indeed, everything you've heard is true, but only half-true. Such a fountain exists, and the water gives life. But it demands it too. Once a sip is taken, the waters within come calling, awakening a need within those who have had a drink to kill so the water can replenish the stores of life giving power flowing from the fountain. But there is a safeguard--a family who has passed down guardianship of the water from generation to generation. Guardian tells the story of Norman, who struggles to come into his new role and ultimately makes a decision that will alter the course for those across the generations who have taken a drink from the deadly spring.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherC.S. Kendall
Release dateFeb 24, 2016
ISBN9781524241452
Origins: Guardian: The Killing Cure
Author

C.S. Kendall

CS Kendall spent her formative years growing up in the small town of McPherson, KS. As such, there was not much to do, so her imagination, which always lagged behind her age, had free reign. From playing dress up into her teens, recording radio shows with various voices and storylines with her friends, to dappling with the art of crafting a novel, there were few dull moments for her. Enter adulthood, a day job, and the backburner. But story came calling, and finally, her imagination woke up and answered. Though she loves and is fulfilled by her job as a social work therapist, she equally enjoys running away in her mind to imaginary lands with made up people. She lives happily with her husband and their two amazing children in southwest Michigan.

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    Book preview

    Origins - C.S. Kendall

    May 1844

    Norman stood on the dock overlooking the cold, black water. The chilly expanse was stark in contrast to the warmth of the low-hanging sun, casting orange, pink and purple across the horizon. Those he'd traveled with on the ferry had already dispersed, leaving him alone with only the ferry captain. Placing his suitcase at his feet, he freed his hands so he could pull his jacket over his arms as the wind picked up.

    Everything began and ended here and yet, the place didn’t look like much at all. He’d heard tales of the beauty here, the serenity. But he knew these surroundings intended to hold him captive, so it mattered little how lush the foliage was. And his captivity would last until he died here, alone. Though not immediate, coming here meant embracing his death sentence. And doing the unthinkable. Norman shuddered as he considered the task ahead, still unconvinced he was ready to do what needed done.

    His mind wandered to her. The scenery here barely held a candle to back home, where his heart lingered. Where his Evelyn remained. His mind settled as he pictured her face and watched the sunlight dance on the water before disappearing behind the clouds.  

    You comin’ or goin’? A man’s voice broke through his thoughts.

    He turned to find he was alone with the ferry captain. Uh, co—coming, as it were, though I do not suppose you would know where Fresh Dock is, would you, sir?

    The ferry captain frowned, studying Norman. His gaze held judgment as his eyes traveled up and down the whole of Norman’s middle-aged frame. Self-conscious, Norman raised his hand to his head, doing his best to smooth his overgrown and tousled mess of salt-and-pepper hair. He hiked his baggy pants up, cursing his only pair of suspenders for the poor job they did. The ferry captain’s glare confirmed to Norman what he’d already feared: he didn’t belong—he wasn’t like the others that had joined him on the ferry. But then, he'd never belonged anywhere, with anyone. At one point in time, as an idealistic youth, he had convinced himself that when the time came for him to make this trek he'd be coming home. That his arrival to the island would feel as natural as breathing.

    He'd been wrong.  

    Not too many visitors come by this time ’a year. The ferry captain looped his fingers through his overalls and eyed Norman.

    Yes sir. I declare this is my first trip to these parts.

    The ferry captain huffed and tipped his hat. "You’re

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