Calinda B.

“I’ve been a grieving, fighting-to-survive emotional wreck for years. We lost everything—our home, our parents, our sense of a stable world, with no time to mourn. My studies and dreams of working with plant life and making the world a better place? Gone, blown to bits by warriors with metaphysical abilities, the mutant monsters known as Metas. It’s a wonder any Humans are left. What was known as the P-extinction war, a brutally long war between Humans and Metas lasting twelve horrid years, left us depleted with slim chances of survival.”
― Calinda B., Night Whispers

“Is that where we’re going to be housed?” I point at a giant, sleek, shiny dome in the distance. A stack of high-tech metal known as translucite, steel, and aluminum bubbles, sparkling in the harsh sun, stretches into the sky for miles. As each new resident enters, it looks like they’re being swallowed alive. “It’s better than where we were headed,” he says, his mouth tight. “You got caught. You should’ve let me do the stealing. I was good at it and you know it.” “I wanted to help. Your limp was getting worse.” My chin starts to tremble. “You mean my war-wound? The one inflicted by Meta bastards?” Cold rage burns in his hazel eyes. One eyebrow lifts on his handsome face. “And how did that work out, huh? You got caught,” he says again. “I tried to protect you and was charged with being your accomplice.” He spits the last word with a sneer.”
― Calinda B., Night Whispers