Johnny, the Mark of Chaos — Susan D. Kalior

Enter the darkness in Book One of this thought-evoking dark fantasy, horror series. Meet johnny: a seductive, vampire-like , magical, time-bending being who wreaks chaos on earth. For over nine hundred years he has answered the conscious and unconscious call for destruction. Meanwhile, the Shen, Jenséa, a naïve embodied angel (who believes herself merely human), is tormented by her compulsion to paint violent scenes, which unbeknownst to her, are premonitions of her future. Bored from lack of challenge, johnny invites himself to be her guardian devil to help her survive what is to come, and to teach her about her angel power. He is challenged at last, for her power, when activated, could burn him to oblivion. Confusing matters are the changes they incite in each other, including a magnetizing romantic love.

Told from Jenséa's point of view, this is a story about life's gentler side unconsciously seeking balance with the tougher aspects of being. Thrown into a fantastic adventure with her diametric opposite, Jenséa begins to learn the deeper meaning of life, surpassing everything she ever deemed true. Contrary to conventional plots that pit good against evil, this plot unites good and evil to transform both. This brilliant tale touches the deepest yearnings in every human, yearnings that are lifted to a startling resolution.

Excerpt:

johnny headed down the hall, and of course, I followed. His long black hair bespoke power somehow, chief stallion, chief headdress, my chief. His gait was a glide really, sliding along in some other reality visible to mine. My definitions of everything had exploded, changing all the rules that seemed to collide into one big mess. Could the Blessed Saints hear me anymore? Had they ever? Surely, God had forsaken me with my parents murdered, me raped, and johnny in my life. I survived my parents. I survived rape. But I could never survive johnny because he wasn't a thing that faded with time. Ever present, johnny was alive and active in my life -- be I here, there, or anywhere. There would never be an end to him, and my only escape was to let him end me. And I would let him, if only to taste him once more. I hated myself for hanging my life on his hook. Or . . . maybe this was just infatuation. Being in love was such a tragic thing.