The Fury

By Jo Michaels

It’s one year until the apocalypse of 12.21.12 is supposed to take place.

Burning buildings, screaming babies, and death will surround us.

It will be the end of the world.

That can’t be allowed.

When six powerful women come together with one goal—to save humanity—they’ll get much more than they bargained for. They join forces and learn to use the gifts hidden within themselves to battle a monster feeding off something too many of us feel in our souls: Hate. But they must first learn how to forgive—themselves as well as others.

Hate is birthing a creature dwelling under Central Park in New York, and the fiend is eager to burst forth and sink his fangs into the Earth.

The Fury, The Visionary, The Beguiler, The Siren, The Prophet, and The Mystic are our last hope, and even they aren’t sure if they can win.

The end is coming, but with it, there may be a new beginning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo Michaels
• Release date: Nov 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463580585

Jo Michaels

Jo Michaels loves writing novels that make readers gasp in horror, surprise, and disbelief. While her browser search history has probably landed her on a list somewhere, she still dives into every plot with gusto, hoping "the man" will realize she's a writer and not a psychopath about to go on a rampage. Her favorite pastimes are reading, watching Investigation Discovery, and helping other authors realize their true potential through mentoring. She's penned the award-winning Pen Pals and Serial Killers series and the best-selling educational book for children, Writing Prompts for Kids, which has rocketed the kids that use it into several awards of their own.Most of Jo's books feature the places she's lived: Louisiana, Tennessee, and Georgia. That's given her a special amount of insight to what makes those locations tick. Her works are immersive and twisty, and she wouldn't want it any other way.

Book preview

The Fury

12.21.12 – The Hate Apocalypse – Book 1

By Jo Michaels

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The Fury

12.21.12 – The Hate Apocalypse – Book 1

By Jo Michaels

Copyright © 2018 Jo Michaels

All Rights Reserved

Published October 8, 2018

Smashwords Edition

License Notes:

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be copied or re-distributed in any way. Author holds all copyright.

This book is a work of fiction and does not represent any individual living or dead.

Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

This book was previously published in 2013 with the title: Mystic-Bronya. Significant changes have been made to the story. Author retains all copyright.

Cover design by Jo Michaels

Typeset for print and digital formatting by Jo Michaels

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

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Markaza Turner gazed into her crystal ball for the fifth time since her birthday. From her dream in December, she knew she had to find five girls, but she’d only managed to see the locations of four so far. I wonder if my abilities are getting rusty. Surely, I should’ve seen the fifth before New Year’s Eve. It was January second already, and she felt like she was losing time—which she was. She shook her head to clear the thoughts bouncing around, gnashed her teeth, and concentrated harder. Her patience paid off when her ball began to fog up once more. Leaning in closer, she peered into the depths of the glass orb on the little table situated in the living room as she prayed her mother didn’t walk in.

A view of the entire United States was how the locations first appeared. Then, like on those cop shows where they say, Zoom and enhance, Markaza’s subject always came into view one step at a time. So far, she had young women in San Diego, California; Atlanta, Georgia; Chattanooga, Tennessee; and her very own New York, New York. The next one seemed to be in Texas, Louisiana, or Arkansas. She narrowed her eyes at the ball and sucked in a sharp breath when it panned over and zipped right down near the Gulf of Mexico into Houma, Louisiana. Great, being a mosquito feast is not on my bucket list. Oh well…

As she watched, her subject came into view. Wow, the girl is big. Markaza’s saw a bathroom and the girl slamming the door open, sending Markaza flying into the wall on the other side. She groaned and winced. Getting hit is never fun. When the scene shifted, the new girl was showing her class schedule, and Markaza could clearly see the name printed across the top: Bronya Thibodeaux. It was scrawled onto the list in the notebook nearby, along with the location and class schedule, before Markaza’s attention was turned back to the glass. Her palms got sweaty as she stared, wondering what kind of trouble she was getting herself into.

Her ball fogged up again, and she saw Bronya walking down a road with a suitcase in her hand and another very beautiful girl standing in the road, shaking her fists, and screaming. Next to the road was a sign: Thank You for Visiting Houma! Come Back Soon! Don’t Return Lezbo! The red paint and hurtful words on the sign screamed out at Markaza. As if Bronya would ever plan on going back to that. Markaza’s eyes filled with tears as her heart broke. She noted the obvious issue and turned back once again.

Another fog up and the scene cleared to showed six girls in a circle around a huge monster with green venom dripping from foot-long fangs, red eyes that glittered like rubies in a spotlight, and black skin that looked like it was formed of pieces of garbage glued together with tar. Bronya lifted a hand, and red lights began to spin around it. She made a gesture at the monster and it recoiled like it had been punched in the face. Awesome. Bronya’s my fury.

Markaza watched the ball fade to clear and covered it with a red cloth before leaning back in her living room chair and sighing. Seeing really took it out of her, and she knew she had a challenge ahead. How she was going to get all those girls to agree to move to New York when she couldn’t tell any of them a single thing about themselves or what was going on was beyond her. Her dreams had made it clear that they needed to discover their power themselves—that she couldn’t reveal anything. It was frustrating as hell.

Annoyed, she got up, trudged into the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, and lit a cigarette. As she waited for the coffee to perk, she inhaled deeply, straining her ears for sounds of her mother moving around in her bedroom. She wouldn’t be out of that room anytime soon. It had gotten so bad, she’d even started taking meals in bed. Markaza’s anger rose, and she wondered what it would feel like to strangle the bitch and put her out of her misery. Seventeen-year-old girls needed their damned mothers. Pamela was so far off the reservation, she wasn’t ever coming back to reality.

Visions. What a mind fuck they are. Markaza snorted, wondering how anyone would cope with having those types of episodes all the time. When the coffee beeped, signaling it had finished dripping, she poured a cup