The pillow shams were covered in velvet. Most men don’t care or notice what color a pillow sham is. The couch had a couple pillows thrown on it. Well . . . that doesn’t sound very intelligent. See my point. Allowing a young-adult male to tell my story seemed awkward at times. Her smooth, graceful behind sat next to the sofa pillows. Yes. That’s the one, but staying in that frame of mind isn’t simple for a woman. And I, by no means, am saying that all men think sexually. But Rush does, and I began to have fun, keeping with his thoughts.
Rush says sweet things to Trulie. He’s not always the bad-boy. But reading the novel through his eyes—was a way to be different. With alien electric pulsing through his veins, you can tell, I’m all about, new and different. So put your wild-man hat on and enjoy some electric excitement, in Rush’s point of view.
Rush James and his brother, Chris, are “plasmetric” people—a unique life form born of human parents. Their blood cells are alive with alien electronic energy—and living a normal life in the human world creates havoc for those of their kind.
But Rush and Chris aren’t alone—there are others. As their parents slowly die, the Children of the Orb must find one another to survive. Rush must share his life with the only woman in the world that can keep his blood cells charged.
Trulie Morgan is the positive to Rush’s negative. When they touch, polarity moves energy, their passion grows, and the battle of opposites begins. Trulie’s kind heart is naïve to the dangers that surround them, and Rush must learn to use her optimism and strength if he wants to claim victory, and love.
But the danger is very real for all of them--both from humans and from others of their kind. As they search for the answers they're desperate to find, someone is killing humans and animals. When an attempt is made on Trulie's life, Rush is determined to get to the bottom of it--even if it means it could be one of their own--one of the CHILDREN OF THE ORB.
Everyone watched as I stood up. I rubbed my palms together and popped a knuckle. I glared at Trulie’s outstretched fingers.
With gradual movement, I moved my hand toward hers. Inches above her palm, friction caused air to churn. A blue light appeared, and a force pulled at my hand like a powerful magnet.
I clamped down. The small flames in our grand fireplace ignited—a hot sizzling shock to the system. The lights above flashed. Hot waves of electrical current soared through my fingers. She was right. Energy moved, and there was only one way to describe it—undeniably irresistible.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Yes. Blood soared up my arm and into my chest.
In her silence, Trulie’s body spoke to me through the sensation of touch. Pleasure.
I smoothed my hand across her soft palm and curled my fingers around her hand. Unbelievable. Electric traveled through my body like a rushing river. Energy filled my hollow veins with such strong blood flow—I thought my heart would falter.
A light bulb popped above us. Chris got out of his seat and stepped back.
I could not let go. The force moved deep within. A hot penetration of strength clung to a desperate desire for more. My circulation stirred with life renewed. The skin on my arms took on a healthy radiance. I wanted to drown in disbelief.
Lightning flashed in the big brown eyes that looked up at me. Her hair’s gray strands gleamed with a new dark color. Her skin turned golden-brown, and her cheeks blushed. I took a breath of satisfaction, for I could tell, I gave as much as I received.
Panic seized Trulie’s face. “I can’t pull away,” she cried. “Your eyes—they were light blue, and now they’re—I can’t believe it! I’m—I feel…balanced.”
Chris appeared between us and yanked our hands apart. “No way! This can’t be right. Trulie is mine.” But as he held her arm, no connection was made. No flickering lights. No energy movement, just the warm skin of a creature like himself. She looked at him with apologetic eyes.
He dropped her arm and faced me. “Why do you always find a way to screw things up?”
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