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The Bridge: Trolls
The Bridge: Trolls
The Bridge: Trolls
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The Bridge: Trolls

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Evangeline Kane is thrust into a world and a role she never asked for. She finds herself questioning her sanity as she finds herself bound to a bridge as its Troll when the previous champion died in her arms.

The gateway from the Under-Veil to the city of Cincinnati lies unprotected, open to malicious fae intent on chaos and corruption of the mortals that dwell in it, if she does not stand against them.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherErik Schubach
Release dateSep 20, 2014
ISBN9780991107292
The Bridge: Trolls
Author

Erik Schubach

I got my start writing romance novels by accident. I have always been drawn to strong female characters in books, like Honor Harrington. And I also believe that there is a lack of LGBT characters in media. So one day I came up with a story idea that combines the two... two days later I completed the manuscript for Music of the Soul.My writing style may not be the most professional nor grammatically correct, but I never profess to be an English major, just a person that wants to share a story. I maintain that my primary language is sarcasm.Each of my books features strong likeable female characters that are flawed. I think that flaws and emotional or physical scars make us human and give us more character than simply conforming to some "social norm".I have also started a SciFi series, The Valkyrie Chronicles which features a Valkyrie, Kara, who was left behind on Earth five thousand years ago to help the Asgard race escape the onslaught of the Ragnarok horde. With the aid of a human, Kate, she holds the line in battle to herald the return of the Asgard!If you like magic, paranormal romance and witches, then my new series Fracture might tickle your fancy. In the first book Fracture: Divergence, Alex King must stop magic from destroying reality. The problem is that Alex must solve the case in parallel universes where in one Alex is male and female in the other.There is even a modern shapeshifter paranormal series, Drakon. Featuring a fiery Irish woman with a sharp wit and sharper temper who finds out she is a dragon of legend.

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    The Bridge - Erik Schubach

    Prologue

    I squatted on the aircraft warning light on top of the bridge tower peering through the relentless rain, lightning casting stark shadows on the city, the brisk wind biting into the people bustling below.  I didn't mind, I never got cold anymore.  I could feel the motion of the river as it passed far below, just as much a part of the bridge as the foundation of the structure itself, just as much a part of me.  My pulse was thrumming in time with the cars passing over the deck of the bridge over a hundred feet below... the lifeblood of the bridge,  giving it strength, purpose.

    The black storm clouds blotted out the sky, if it weren't for the fact that I could feel it now, I wouldn't have know when the sun finally set over the horizon.  Weakening the gateway between the Under-Veil and the mortal world.  But I felt it as a thrum of energy now.  I dreaded this night above all others, not only did nightfall weaken the boundary, but it was All Hallows Eve.  From what little I have learned in the short time I have be bound to my bridge, there are certain nights that the supernatural divider between the realms weakened even more.  Allowing bigger and stronger creatures to force their way through.

    The larger and more powerful the being that tried to cross over was, the more energy it sapped from them to attempt a crossing.  They had to gather their power for weeks or years, and in a couple cases, centuries to make an attempt.  That's why Halloween was the their preferred night as the boundary was twice as weak as even a new moon, when the moon was at its darkest.

    Most beings that crossed over to the mortal realm at night were fairly innocuous and followed the rules set forth between the Triumvirate, the mortal supernatural council, and the Under-Veil creatures.  They paid their tolls, a gold coin that magically bound them to do no harm to mortals until they returned through the boundary before sunrise.  This restriction didn't stop them from the occasional mischief and or petty crimes.

    But there were the darker beings like the ghouls, goblins, and wraiths who did not abide by the accords.  Their main reason for crossing over was to cause mayhem and chaos, to bring down suffering and corruption upon the mortals they despised.  To feast upon their fear and death.  That's where I come in.

    My eyes scanned the Kentucky end of the bridge, preparing for my patrol of the gateway at that end of the bridge.  I glanced back at the lights of Cincinnati that were obscured by the heavy downpour.  Then my eyes snapped back when I felt something coming, something big.  The blood drained from my face as I realized I had felt this darkness and foreboding before.  It was him!  He was here.  I shook the rain out of my dark locks and pulled the black hood of my coat up over me, obscuring my face, and sprang off of the strobing red light, landing lightly on the roof of the tower, I ran toward the edge of the roof, my footsteps echoed in harmony with the thrumming from the unsuspecting people below, going about their business. Then I dove over the edge with stone cold determination in my heart as I plummeted toward the ground.

    Most mortals could not perceive the battle that went on at the bridge nightly, we called those people 'straights'.  Their eyes were veiled to the supernatural and other-worldly beings.  They saw only the human disguises they wrapped themselves in.  This ignorance made them easy prey fro those who would corrupt, those like the being crossing over now.

    I gritted my teeth.  Not here, not at my bridge.

    The irony of that struck me, as I never wanted this, never wanted the responsibility, never wanted this nightly fight against the corruption and evil from the nether side.  But here, exactly a year to the night later, there was no place I would rather be.  I loved my city, and this was my bridge.

    My hands snagged a suspender cable after I fell half way to the deck and I whipped around and swung back up with my momentum in a high arc.  I felt my body absorbing the material when the skin of my hands came in contact with it, the mass, properties, and the unyielding strength of the cable.  I landed on the main cable, the stranded sheathed steel, bigger around than my body, as I slid down its length, sparks shooting from the contact of my now metallic legs as I slid along the casing at breakneck speeds.  The lightning casting shadows starkly on the bridge below for a flickering instant.  I leapt off of it at the low point and flipped through the air to land on the pedestrian walkway with a resounding crunch.  Cratering the concrete deck and kicking up a huge dust cloud of pulverized stone.

    My body started absorbing the properties of the deck, becoming a living rock statue as I healed the damage I had wrought on my bridge with a bit of my will.  I stepped up to the deck as the damage filled in.

    When the driving rain beat away the dust, an imposing, foreboding specter stepped through the debris as lightning lit the sky again, illuminating the being.  I stared at the demon, the harbinger of death itself, and set myself in determination.  The lightning flickered his visage between his true form and his human disguise.  I spoke, my voice grating like gravel across concrete, None may pass on my bridge with ill intent.  Either pay the toll, bind yourself to no harm, or face my wrath.  I am Evangeline Kane, Troll of this bridge!

    The greater wraith smiled in a hideous grin that literally went from ear to ear on it's sickening dark rotting face, its inhuman smile showing long teeth dripping with saliva.  Then it screeched its defiance in a scream that chilled me to my bones.  My god, how did I think I could defeat this beast?  I steadied myself and drew power from my stalwart friend, from the foundations of the bridge itself then I snarled in defiance as we ran at each other in a clash of violence and blood.

    As the first blow landed a small portion of my mind wondered how had I got here.  I thought back to that day a year ago that changed my life forever.  I could see it like it was yesterday.  So much had changed since then.

    Chapter 1 – One Year Earlier

    I awoke with a hangover from last night's Halloween party and glared at my alarm clock and I almost growled at the flashing red numbers on it. Six flippin' thirty, why did I do this to myself?  I sat up from where I had passed out face first on my bed, still in my sexy witch costume.  How the hell did I let Kyla talk me into wearing the stupid thing?  I had to fight creeps off with my broom the whole night at O'Flanagan's, an Irish drinking hole here in Cincinnati.

    I ran my hands back through my dark hair to get it out of my face and to try to stave off the throbbing pain in my head.  I forced myself to stand up and shrugged out of the dumbass black and burgundy costume as I made my way to the bathroom.  I grabbed some aspirin from the medicine cabinet and poured a cup of water from the sink below it to wash them down.

    Then I drank two more cups of water muttering to myself, Keep yourself hydrated Evangeline. Knowing it was the best way to fight the hangover.  I splashed a little water on my face then I closed the door on the medicine cabinet and stared at my reflection in the mirror on it.

    Damn, I looked like shit.  I only had myself to blame, I should never have agreed to go to the party with Kyla, but she needed a wingman.  If I don't look out for her I don't know who would.  I spend too much time at O'Flanagan's, being Colin's backup bartender.  I looked into my bloodshot blue eyes and took in my disheveled hair.  I raised an arm an sniffed and recoiled.

    I shook my head and let my black bra and panties drop to the floor as I stepped into the shower and turned the handle to cold and turned it on, blurting out, Hellstones and fire! at the expected shock of it.  It had the desired effect of waking me up completely.

    After a quick shower I hopped out and started drying my hair.  I'd take a proper hot shower after my run.  I looked at the little shower stall that took up almost half of the tiny bathroom.  God, what I wouldn't give for a bathtub.  I can't even remember the last time I had a nice long warm soak in a proper tub.

    I navigated the piles of dirty clothes on the floor.  I'm such a slob, I chided myself and took a moment to grab a bunch of discarded clothing to stuff them into my overflowing laundry hamper.  Damn, I'd have to get down to the laundromat soon, I was almost out of clean clothes.

    I put on a fresh pair of panties, my sports bra, and some black ankle socks.  Then a pair of shorts and a tanktop, and covered the ensemble with my black sweats.

    It was going to be a chilly one, the thermometer I had stuck outside the window of my second story walk-up in this rundown brick building I lived in, was showing thirty nine degrees.  That was almost five degrees below the average for October... well November now I guess.  But I would warm up fast enough on my morning run.

    I put on my running shoes then I made my way through my little apartment and grabbed my black leather fanny-pack and took my cell off its charger and put it in the pack and then fastened the black leather belt loosely around my waist.  Then I pushed my front door open with a little effort, it always stuck at the bottom when the temperatures got colder, and almost stepped into Mr. Baranovsky, my Russian landlord who was currently sweeping the narrow stairway that ran down to street level between the little key shop slash locksmith shop, Key-Um-Up, and Kim's, the little Korean grocery store.

    I almost winced at the meeting while I locked my door as the little, stout barrel of a man with seemingly oversize forearms, glared up at me and spoke with his heavy Russian accent.  Well spoke is kind of a misnomer when it comes to  Mr. Baranovsky, he seems to yell everything.  Kane!  Where's your rent?

    I squinted an eye as I tried to push past him down the stairs, I'll have it for you tonight Mr. B.

    He just yelled after me, Yeah yeah, it's always tonight with you.  I should throw your deadbeat butt out on the street Kane.  You're nothing but a pain in my ass, I could have another tenant in five seconds.

    I waved back behind me and said, You say such sweet things you old windbag.  I'll have some cash tonight. as I pushed the heavy metal door open and stepped into the crisp morning twilight.

    I shook my head with a slight smile.  Mr. B may sound like a cantankerous old fart, but he really does give me a lot of leeway.  He bends over backwards to let me pay my rent as I can afford it these past five years since I moved in after leaving home the day I turned eighteen.

    I pulled my cell out of my pack, plugged in the headphones and cued up my running playlist and slipped the cell back into the pack and zipped it up most of the way.  I leaned against the wall and started doing a little stretching.  I glanced over and saw Mrs. Kim coming out and starting to pull the security gate aside in preparation to open the store.

    I gave her a smile and a nod.  She smiled back and threw an apple to me.  I caught it and nodded again.  The old lady just grinned and started pulling the fruits and vegetable carts to the sidewalk.  I dropped some change on one of the carts she pulled out as I took a big bite of the sweet apple.  Then I started at a slow jog as I ate my breakfast.  I know you aren't supposed to eat and run, so sue me.

    Once I finished the apple and tossed the core into a trash can on a corner a couple blocks away, I cranked the music and kicked up my pace to a run, and turned my eyes toward the suspension bridge two miles away.

    As a little girl, the John A. Roebling Suspension Bridge always looked like something from a fairytale, with its two great stone towers.  I had always seen lights flashing from it and the other bridges.  Hearing sounds of violent clashes and roaring of great beasts at them at night, that was the first warning signs about my... umm... condition.  My parents, back then, said I just had a vivid imagination.

    I picked up my pace to just shy of a sprint at the poison memories.

    The city was starting to wake up from its short slumber, the languid hours between two and seven in the morning are when the city sleeps.  More and more people started emerging to start their days as I weaved my way through the streets.

    I swear I felt the ground shake and terrible screeching roar come from the bridge as I ran.  I knew it wasn't real so I just ignored it.  I crossed the street as I came up to a man who's shadow loomed like a horned beast.  He was always out early sweeping his walk or tending the flowers on his stoop.

    Ever since puberty hit, I have been seeing the shadows.  Not on everyone, only one or two people a day would have shadows that contradicted their appearance.  Those shadows were what made my childhood a living nightmare.  Maybe one out of every thousand or so people had one.

    I had made the mistake of telling my parents about the things I was starting to see, they at first wrote it off as more of my imagined fantasies.  Until one time we were at a company picnic at my father's boss' house.  It was the first time I had ever met my father's boss and when he walked up to us, I felt a wave of malice and something corrupt, rolling off of him.  His shadow was inhuman and the gaping maw on it seemed to be twisted in a cruel grin.  I had started screaming.

    That's when the endless streams of shrinks started in my life after I had 'embarrassed' my father.  Shrinks and drugs that had me feeling half alive, just going through the paces and not really living.  I had a break when we had changed psychiatrists and the man had an almost burning shadow that looked vaguely like a Minotaur.  I had freaked out again.

    He seemed a little nervous when he and my parents got me to tell them why I freaked out.  He was quick to diagnose me with paranoid schizophrenia and said I was having vivid hallucinations.  The drugs he put me on made the others seem like candy.  I hated my life then, it seemed like all my emotions and my personality were locked away behind a cage.  Then to top it all off, they put me in a cage, well, the mental hospital, with the other crazy people.

    When I was sixteen my doctor skipped town without a word one day, just disappeared without a trace, and I was assigned a different shrink.  This one put me on a more mild anti-psychotic, and I started to feel slightly human again and could think a little.  I realized that as long as I insisted that I could occasionally see these altered shadows, they would keep me in there.  So I came up a solution... I lied.  I got really good at lying there.

    I convinced them that I couldn't see the shadows anymore.  Over time I had convinced everyone, and the doctor said it was most likely my brain chemistry stabilizing after an imbalance caused by puberty.  What a load of horseshit.  I was finally released to go back home.  I just pretended to take my medication every day and over the next few months when I was actually flushing it down the toilet, my head cleared and I felt human again, though I admit I am easy to piss off now.  I harbor so much anger for what I feel is the unjustified loss of my childhood.

    My parents treated me like a freak and were timid around me, almost like if they said the wrong thing I'd go

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