There are four breeds of Clairvoyants: Kinetics who can move objects with their minds, Prophets who have involuntary visions of the future, Readers who can explore the deepest thoughts of others in an instant and Aural who can transfer their consciousness to control the bodies of others.
17-year-old Rion Grean is a Kinetic, but he has no idea there are others like him. His protective mother kept them on the move, even refusing to tell him about the father he never knew. When an accident separates them, he finds himself on the run from a covert, militaristic force that sees his kind as wasps that have strayed into the homes of normal humanity. Suddenly engulfed within the different factions of the Clairvoyants, the boy who has never been good at making friends must determine who to follow.
I stare upward at the fading stars in the indigo sky. Soon, the morning sun will peak over the acres of rolling hills, and I’ll have to wish the stars farewell. I don’t know why I’m so fascinated by them. Maybe it’s because, no matter how many times the angles change, the stars remain the same. Maybe it’s because they’re the only thing in my life that are consistent. It’s like we’re kindred spirits asking each other the same questions. Why are you here? What is your purpose?
I place my bulky, vintage headphones atop my curly, tapered hair and pull my cell phone from my jean pocket. A few taps of my finger against the screen, and a beat begins to swarm in my ears to match my heart. My eyes close and my head nods as the sounds of A Tribe Called Quest resonate through every pore like a warm cup of coffee.
I open my eyes just in time to see my mother pulling from the driveway in her crimson SUV. She blows me a kiss and waves. I can read the look of anxious optimism in her sparkling light brown eyes like a billboard. It only makes me shake my head and smirk as I wave back. What’s there to worry about? New schools. New surroundings. I’ve done them so many times they’ve become as much of a routine as tying my shoes.
The school bus is pulling up over the hill just as my mother’s car disappears. It’s astonishing how few houses there are in the distance. Most of the ones I do catch seem far from lived in. It can only be a pain for the bus to pick me up so far off course. I quickly adjust the lone strap of my backpack that hangs over my shoulder and tuck my hands into the pockets of my gray jacket. The weather in this tiny Missouri town doesn’t seem too bad. Not too hot, not too cold. At least I know there is one thing positive about this place other than the clear skies.
Thank you, Brady Moore and Love Books Group
About the Author
Brady was born and bred in Charlotte, North Carolina where years of Saturday morning cartoons, superhero comics and science-fiction movies slowly manifested into aspirations of being a fiction author. He originally graduated from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro in 2010 with a degree in Media Studies and a goal of putting his skills as a writer toward journalism. The idea to write novels came after spending years of working as a theater manager and blogging about movies. If he’s not playing with his hyperactive jack russell terrier or binging shows on Netflix with his wife, he’s probably off plotting his next project.