This is an excerpt from the story I'm currently editing:
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when Luke Dunstan strode around the site of the coming Apocalypse. He observed a brightening sky streaked with fuschia, an apple orchard etched in grey, squat houses surrounded by shadowed herbs and flowers. As an Archetype, Luke needed no sleep; because few of the humans were yet awake, he could walk alone.
He considered the plight of the collective against beings of his race and their vicious Nephilim fighting force, who fully intended to kill not only the humans of the collective, but the Archetype who held all women’s lives — his daughter Lilith.
Luke concealed his tears.
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