Broken City
Broken City #1
By- D.D. Chant
Genre/Age Group- 16+
Genre/Age Group- 16+
A girl with no future
A man with no past
A little lost boy
And those who seek to find him....
....Welcome to Deeta's world.
Deeta Richards has never seen the outside world. Before she was born a banking crisis brought civilization to an end and now no one leaves the safety of the compounds unless they need to, but Deeta still dreams of seeing more than the building she was born in.
Tom is in the guard, this group are the only people that the tribal elders allow to leave the compound and Tom knows only too well that Deeta could never survive the harshness that exists outside. Then tragedy strikes and Deeta and her Sister Jan find themselves captured by a hostile tribe. Why does Tom know so much about these people? And why do they know so much about him? As this mystery draws to a climax, they discover that their friend Tom is not quite what he seems...
**Broken City is FREE right now! **
EXCERPT
“Making new friends, Deeta?”
I jump at the sound of Tanya’s voice.
“I suppose I was, he was asking if there was anything we needed.”
“I’d be careful if I were you, goodness only knows what he’ll want in return.”
“Tanya!” I flush red, angry and embarrassed. “He just wanted to make sure we were comfortable, that all of us are comfortable.”
“Yeah whatever... trust me, Deeta, he spells trouble.”
“Don’t be silly, I think—”
“That’s the trouble, Deeta, you’re not such an authority are you? You thought Tomasz was fine and look what he turned out to be!” I see a spiteful glint come into her eyes. “He’s ruined you, you know. None of the boys will want you now, not after…” Her voice trails off suggestively and she looks after Robin. “Come to think of it, perhaps you should be nice to that Marshall. Or had you already thought of that?”
I watch in silence as she walks away, a self satisfied smile plastered over her face. Knowing that everyone in the hallway is looking at me, but not meeting my eyes, I drop the cloth I’m holding and walk, quite sedately up the stairs.
I don’t have any destination in mind, but feel a kind of numbness come over me and everything disappears. There’s no thought, no pain, not even the sensation of passing time.
I come to myself, face to face with a large door. From its shape and size I know that it is the door to the roof, my often used place of refuge. The handle puts up resistance in my fingers and with both hands I begin to pull madly at its unresponsive locks. The tears are coursing down my face as I beat a rhythmless tattoo against the hard wood.
I cry for everything in those moments. I cry for Dec and for Keya, for Jamie’s misery and Tom’s coldness, for the huge and strange changes that have tangled us all in their intricate web. My fist is suddenly arrested in a warm and firm clasp and I’m turned and pulled into a comforting embrace. Only one person I know radiates the comfort that I can feel tangible in the air and I allow myself to relax in Tom’s arms.
For a while my shuddering sobs continue and his left arm around my waist remains tight, while his right hand smoothes my hair back from my face. But even tears must stop eventually and I become quiet.
“I didn’t mean to be silly, Tom, it just—”
“I saw, Deeta.”
I lean against him, absorbing the kindness and gentleness of him, just as I absorb his warmth. Tom understands, he understands what I can’t even put into words and his understanding is a relief. I stand there with my head resting against his shoulder and time rolls back so that I don’t feel awkward. My next question is as frank as we had used to be with each other.
“Are we good, Tom?”
“Yes, Deeta. We’re good.”
He draws away from me and hands me his handkerchief, I take it from him, wiping my eyes.
“Is my face red and puffy?”
“Honesty decrees that I say yes.”
“I thought so... thanks, Tom.”
“What for?”
“For being there when I need you most. That’s what matters isn’t it; being there for your friends when things are tight?”
“I guess so.”
He puts his arm around my shoulders and we begin to walk down to the lower levels. Outside my door he does something he’s never done before. He leans forwards and kisses my cheek, much like he would have kissed Tarri or Carris.
“Goodbye, Deeta, be good.”
BOOK SOUNDTRACK
1. Gentian – Broken City
2. Skillet – Awake and Alive
3. Evanescence – Bring me to life
4. The All American Rejects – Can’t take it
5. Fireflight – Forever
6. Gentian – Without a Choice
7. Seven Cities – It’s You I’m Calling
8. Apocalyptica & Brent Smith – Not Strong Enough
9. A-ha - The Sun Always Shines On T.V.
Broken Truce
Broken City # 2
By- D.D. Chant
Genre/Age Group- 16+
Genre/Age Group- 16+
Life isn't turning out the way that Deeta thought it would. With the Lewises defeated and peace between the tribes, she had believed that the dark times were a thing of the past.
But troubles between the tribes continue, and the Andak council have selected Tom as their ambassador and spokesman to the other tribes.
Deeta knows that there is still much resentment against the Andak, and that Tom is in danger every time he leaves the safety of Andak City.
Struggling with her own complicated feelings against the tribe that she is now a part of, Deeta tries to ignore the changing attitudes growing within her.
But when Tom is betrayed and they are thrown into great danger, Deeta finds that reality can't be ignored forever…
EXCERPT
The keys jangle in the lock and the soldier pulls the door open, his grin displaying gaps where his two front teeth should have been.
“Well come on, stop hiding in the shadows, no need to be scared of me.”
Tom doesn’t answer him but walks past him and in to the room beyond. Presented with Tom’s back the soldier seems to lose what little sense he has, he launches himself at Tom. Tom twists away from him, catching his collar as he passes and ramming him in to the opposite wall.
A dull crack fills the room as the soldier’s head connects with stone work, he collapses, sinking to his knees and groaning. With a sharp expletive, the second soldier comes at Tom slowly, very cautiously.
They circle each other measuringly, looking for weaknesses, for any opening. This soldier is younger than the first, not so beefy, but still strong. He holds back, studying Tom even as Tom studies him.
He’s better trained, Tom realises, not the mindless thug that usually passed for a Lewis soldier. This man had been taught caution, to think three moves ahead of his opponent. This man was dangerous, but he used his brain, so maybe there was a chance that he could be reasoned with.
“We don’t have to do this.” Tom holds his hands up, palms outward. “I’ll go back into my cell and we can forget this happened.”
The soldier smiles menacingly.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you; to get your own way here, just like you do in the City.”
His left hand falls to his waist and he pulls free a six inch long blade. One edge is curved down into a point, the other carved into jagged notches that gleam in the artificial light. Tom’s face loses all expression, his hands curl into fists and he raises them slightly.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What’s wrong?” spits the soldier tauntingly. “Are you scared?”
Tom’s eyes never waver from the face, filled with fury, before him.
“You fight with fists the worst you’re going to get is some bruises, maybe a few broken bones, but you had to go and pull and knife. One of us is going to end this bleeding.” Tom’s voice drops, his tone blank. “It won’t be me.”
The soldier laughs, an angry, mocking sound.
“Arrogant son of a…”
Before the soldier can say another word, Tom’s fist crashes into his mouth silencing him abruptly. He staggers back, eyes dilated in shock.
“If you want to make it out of this fight alive, I suggest you leave my mother out of this.”
“You crazy bas…”
Tom’s eyes snap coldly.
“I mean it; you’ll leave my mother out of this if you want to continue breathing.”
With a quick thrust, the soldier slashes his knife through the air. Tom jerks back and pivots, catching hold of his knife arm. They sway together dangerously, crashing into chairs and the table.
It isn’t a pretty fight, there’s no time to do anything but react, and more than once Tom finds himself deflecting the blade at the last possible second. They struggle together a little longer, beginning to pant as their exertion slows them down a little.
Tom reflects grimly that if he wasn’t being so careful about hurting the guy, he would have finished him already. He couldn’t cause the brute too much damage, it would only mean more trouble in the long run, more of these pointless, posturing fights.
Tom knew if he gave in to his desire to have it over and done with quickly, it would become a point of honour, and the rest of the soldiers would consider it their duty to grind the prisoner into the ground. That was the last think he needed, he had enough to worry about without taking gladiatorial events in to account.
Ned’s voice interrupted his thoughts, calling out a frantic warning and Tom turned just in time to see the first solder, recovered from his close inspection of the wall, baring down on him with a chair levelled at his head.
Tom has no time to avoid the blow, but raises his arm slightly to deflect it from his head to his right shoulder. The force sends him reeling backward, clutching at his arm. The first soldier stands, the chair now a splintered wreck in his hands, and glares Ned.
“You warned him.” His voice is filled with shock.
Ned’s eyes widened in fear, and his mouth opens and closees a few times without any sound coming out.
“What’s wrong with you, shrimp?” The furious soldier advances on the boy slowly. “Forgotten whose side you’re on, have you?”
Ned backed away nervously, his hands rising in a pleading gesture.
“C-captain Max said…”
“Captain Max said,” mimics the soldier. “Take a look around you, shrimp: Captain Max isn’t here.”
He makes a lunge for the boy, catching him by the collar, but Ned manages to twist away. He skids across the floor to stand beside Tom, his retreat only making the two soldiers angrier. With a deft flick of his wrist, the second soldier throws his knife and Ned closes his eyes, bracing himself for the pain of impact.
The moments pass and the boy prises one eye open.
Tom’s arm is stretched out in front of him, on a level with Ned’s throat. The knife is buried deep in his forearm, blood beginning to ooze from wound to drip on the floor. The room is silent, Ned’s horrified gaze transfers from the gruesome sight of the blade protruding from Tom’s arm, to Tom’s white face and icy expression. He coldly appraises the men before him, and the two soldiers expressions fill with horror and fear.
BOOK SOUNDTRACK
1. Seven Cities – This Time Won’t Come Again
2. Seven Cites – Crawl
3. David Guetta ft. Sia – Titainium
4. Keene – Somewhere Only We Know
5. Nickleback – Saving Me
6. Lee Mead – Paint it Black
7. Gentian – Finished
8. Jem – 24
About the Author
Hi everyone!
My name is Dee Dee, I'm twenty seven and I live in a beautiful part of Devon, England, with my family.
That introduction made me feel a little bit like I was on Blind Date!!!
As our house is in the countryside we have some unusual neighbours including chickens, ducks, geese, pheasants, a cat (that adopted us when we moved in!!!) and some koi. I also have a very long suffering younger sister, Jingle, who is a brilliant guitar player. She keeps me supplied with coffee and brownies, generally making sure that the Chant household doesn't grind to a halt.
I really hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoy writing them.
I love reading and have a kindle, I enjoy almost every genre; if there is adventure and romance I'll be there with coffee and a brownie! I also like to cook and wear impractical high heels! You may also have noticed that I have a horrible addiction to exclamation marks!!!
Social Media Links-
Twitter- https://twitter.com/DD_Chant
Thank you for hosting today :) - GHBT
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