The Monologue Of Eva Keyes

Millions believe in ghosts.
In their hearts, the past mingles with the present and phantoms linger in a shadowed land just beyond sight.
Luke Angeles’ television program, Those Among Us, brings those lost souls to the public.
In the supernatural world, his crew of investigators offers solace for the spirits caught between worlds.
He believes in that realm, more than any could imagine, and only investigative reporter Eva Keyes dares question his sanity.
Her cynicism will disrupt the perfect facade he’s erected over the centuries.
PROLOGUE

Once, there was a distant kingdom nestled in the powerful embrace of snow-covered mountains and flourishing fields. A peaceful land, the lush valleys abounded with fruitful harvests and laughter. The people
Governing with a heavy hand, the thirst for battle weighed more on his mind. King Alphonse’s daughter, the fair Princess Anjelie, became a spoil of war. Her compassionate innocence and kind heart meaning nothing to the new ruler.
The barbarian had taken her as his wife, but the usurper did not grant her the slightest tenderness. For those delving deeper, the deed showed his absolute dominance. His brutality was not held in check for the fair maiden, for she suffered his wrath at every turn.
As the land turned into a barren wasteland and the once-faithful citizens died. The princess became a fragile whisper, swollen with child and locked in a crumbling castle tower. One and all experienced an overwhelming sense of loss. Instead of the joy fueling the people's hearts, whenever they heard the thundering hooves of their monarch's steed, their fear escalated.
This selfsame dread drove the old witch forward, despite brewing thunder and brilliant lightning. Her ragged breath wheezed as she hobbled along, her crippled gait a difficult wobble. From time to time, she stumbled and fell, her legs protesting the swiftness in which she
The eternal blessing of angel fire shall redeem one heir;
Enveloped in the blood of his victims,
The other shall dwell in the bowels of Hell,
The soul of the demon liar.

The icy coldness of expertly forged steel struck, and she crumpled to the ground. Unable of uttering another word, she spewed precious blood into the dusty soil. Discolored by the great flow, the drought-stricken land inhaled her sustenance. She heaved one last quivering breath, the sound slow and long before fading.
“Burn her! Burn her until nothing is left! I do not wish to witness a remaining bit of hair, bone, or clothing!” The leader commanded.
Misgiving rippled through the assembled horde, filling the minute recesses of their diseased hearts.
“Destroy her!” The monarch snarled, his dark countenance feral. His men remained silent, torches raised, the flames flickering. “Destroy her, I say!”
D’Angel’s eyes glowed in the firelight as knights hurried to their task. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw before he spat at the body.
“Make sure she’s burnt beyond recognition and scatter her ashes to the wind. I won’t have a martyr for the