Genre: Dark Fantasy
Number of pages: 208
Word Count: 79,210
Cover Artist: Ryan Doan Illustration & Photography
Welcome to the dark side of love...
A dark fantasy filled with interracial romance, lust, betrayal and vengeance. What happens when everything you've worked for and sacrificed for is suddenly taken away from you? What happens when the greatest love you've ever known isn't what it seems? What happens when your most loyal childhood friends and family pass away? What happens when one man takes a fateful journey between love and hate, light and darkness...Heaven and Hell?
Jacob Forlorn is a beleaguered everyman escaping from the shadows of a bitter and broken past to find his place in life when he meets Miranda, a beautiful and mysterious woman with a past of her own. Drawn by love at first sight, a whirlwind interracial romance brimming with intense passion ensues, culminating in the birth of a beautiful child. But all is not well in paradise. Against the remains of a hidden past, something dark and deadly emerges, threatening to either warn Jacob or rob him of both his heart and his sanity. Jealousy, resentment and deception emerge, soon forming a deadly web of intrigue, lust and secrecy which all have repercussions far beyond anything he ever imagined.
As dark visions and nightmares haunt him repeatedly, Jacob soon begins to walk a very fine line between right and wrong, against a backdrop of misery and death that pushes him to the limits of his faith in God. Someone...or something is after him. The secrets of the past begin to destroy him both physically and spiritually, forcing him to make a dangerous choice.
Love. Lust. Betrayal. Vengeance. It all comes to an end and something has to give. The journey to Hell and back has now begun in this brooding and haunting dark fantasy.
**The sequel to EXODUS, REVELATION: THE RETURN OF JACOB FORLORN is also now available at all major retailers.
It was in that moment that he finally came to terms with the end. The
peace that was to come; the peace that had all but eluded him too often in his
life would now embrace him like a lost child returning home. Lost in a
beautiful haze of absinthe and painkillers coursing through his system, what
was pain had now become exquisite pleasure. He took another slow drag
from one of the cigars a friend had given him days before, a beautifully hand
rolled Cohiba. The robust flavor added a distinct sense of finality to the
moment as the smoke exited his mouth, dancing gracefully through the air.
The lukewarm water soon to be diluted with his blood held a morbid yet
fascinating allure to his strained psyche.
His breathing relaxed and his mind crackling with a wondrous state of
euphoria, she soon appeared to him. His pulse slowly quickened as a faint
smile crept across his face. She knelt down next to the bathtub, a perfect
vision of intense beauty. There were no words between them. At this point,
none were needed. As he eyed the gleaming razor blade near her, he
reflected on the long, arduous road behind him. His childhood days of
laughter and dreams were all scorched by powerful visions of death and
destruction. So many of his friends and family members had long since
taken the long ride home, either through natural causes or the senseless
violence that forever framed that picturesque, brochure farce known as the
Too many young souls filled with potential; too many flames of hope
extinguished by vices that conspired against them. There had been way too
many funerals to count. He’d placed flowers on their graves so many times
that it almost felt as if he were going home every time he visited them. Not
this time, he thought to himself. No longer would he be on the outside
looking in; a mere witness to the party at the edge of the rainbow. This time
he would make his long due arrival in style.
All lights and cameras on him as the clouds finally enveloped his spirit. It
would now be VIP status all the way, with drinks on the house around the
clock. As he took one last drag from the cigar and let his head relax against
the warm tiles of the wall behind him, she smiled at him while taking his
hand. The energy that emanated from her touch immediately brought him to
a climax unlike any he’d ever felt. Made it mom, top of the world he
thought. It had been an era of madness, and it was time to finally let go...
New Orleans-October 2009
The powerful rays of the morning sun marched through the blinds of
his windows, invading the confines of his sparsely furnished loft apartment
in the Warehouse District. There definitely was no need for an alarm clock
in this place, he thought as he rose from an intense slumber. The eyelids of
Jacob Forlorn greeted the world with a sense of humility, accompanied by a
sharp pain creeping up his spine.
Another restless night in Hell, he thought as he reached for his cigar, a
beautifully hand rolled Cohiba. The taste was exquisite as he inhaled and
relaxing as a beautiful gust of smoke exploded from his lips. As he took his
time enjoying the taste, he noticed that the familiar flavor was intermingled
with another flavor as well which clung to his lips. A sweet, intense and
seductive flavor caressed them. What in the world, he thought as he soon
felt a warm sensation next to him. A delicate, feminine arm wrapped in
ivory sweetness soon came into the picture, wrapping itself around his waist
as if it were an extension of him. The moment caught him off guard to the
point that he almost dropped his precious cigar. Jacob looked over and
raised the bed sheets to see the most luxurious sight.
A perfect visual of sexual intensity lay before him on his second hand
air mattress that held more than several stories to tell. Flawless lines,
beautiful curves and a pair of the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen
welcomed his eyesight, distracting him from the pain in his back. She was
the most beautiful thing he’d seen in recent memory, next to him looking
more like a painting than an actual flesh and blood woman. He slowly
traced his fingertips across every line of her, enjoying himself more and
more until a stark and sobering thought echoed through his head. Who the
fuck is this?
What was pleasure then turned to confusion as he tried to
remember. Fighting the urge to continue staring at the beautiful vision in his
bed, he looked around his bedroom in a desperate search for
clues. Everything looked normal at first, until he looked over at his
nightstand. Jacob slowly arose from the bed; the pain coursing through his
back, quelled by a growing, familiar sensation. Damn morning erections, he
thought, looking down on a throbbing sight that more than deserved its own
Instagram profile. There was no time for that now, as he crept closer to the
nightstand struggling to piece it all together. Two empty absinthe glasses
rested next to a ruffled plastic bag of half-eaten mushrooms and a single line
of what was obviously cocaine. His throbbing erection went from 100 to
zero as he looked back at the woman. “Lord please don’t let me have a half
dead White woman in my bed,” Jacob said to himself. I don’t need this right
now, he thought.
Quickly sweeping away the line of coke and grabbing what was left of
the mushrooms, Jacob went into the bathroom, quickly flushing everything
down the toilet. This cannot be happening, and why couldn’t he
remember? He tried to calm himself as he turned on the sink, dousing his
hands in cold rushes of water that he splashed across his haggard
face. Staring at himself in the mirror, his gaze at his weary visage was soon
interrupted by the sight of fingernail marks and slight traces of blood all
across his chest. It was then that he began to remember that painful
sensation in his back calling to him. He reached around, feeling the painful
area only to retrieve his hand, noticing fresh blood on his fingertips. Baby
must have seriously put it on him for sure.
A familiar groan awakened his daze as he looked over to the feline
vixen slumbering in his bed comfortably. The sudden need for a stiff beer
called to him as he went to his kitchen. Still groggy from what was
apparently an intense night of debauchery, Jacob dragged himself to his
kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a fresh bottle of Newcastle. Icy
cold and flavorful, it was just the thing to calm him on this eventful
morning. Resting the bottle against his brow, embracing the cold chill
distracted him so much he never even noticed the long-legged, svelte and
completely naked mocha figure sitting on the kitchen counter drinking a
glass of orange juice.
“Good morning sharpshooter,” she said to him, a slick and ever so
sexual smile slithering across a pair of the most delicious lips he’d seen in
That sudden intense crash he felt was not his blood pressure or the
triumphant return of last night’s erection. It was a picture perfect bottle of
Newcastle exploding on the floor as he stared at her curvy figure. An
awkward moment of silence filling the space between them was soon
interrupted as she spoke.
“Robyn,” she said in a way that filled him with embarrassment due to
the fact that he couldn’t remember.
Standing there sheepishly, and completely naked, all Jacob could do
was stare at every inch of her, from those succulent lips all the way down to
“Oh no marathon man,” she said. “Last night was more than enough
and I’ve got to go to work soon.” She slid off the counter and sauntered
close to him, getting a generous handful of his crotch.
“Lori was right, you are good. Tell her I said thanks for the
He continued to stare, both nonchalantly and confused.
“Lori,” she said. “The White girl laying in your bed right now.”
“Lori...right,” he said, finally managing to formulate words into a
stumble that was embarrassing yet somehow also cute.
Robyn smiled at him and casually kissed his cheek.
“I’m gonna get a quick shower. You have my number now so don’t
be a stranger.” And with that, she was gone.
As the familiar sound of the shower running awakened him from his
daze, the beeping of his cell phone on the counter awakened him even
more. A text had just come in, hopefully one that would somehow lift the
thick layer of fog permeating his cipher. As he picked up the cell, a familiar
name crept across his Blackberry.
“Lucian (Mobile): This is your morning wake up call bro. Awesome
Suddenly and without warning, it was as if everything hit him all at once
with the force of a sledgehammer. The bitter divorce followed by all the
courtroom drama. The lies and infidelity that he tried to pretend didn’t still
matter. The spiteful, vindictive emails from...her. The deaths of his best
friend and mother. The betrayal and threats from people he considered
family. The darkest moments of his life down in South Florida came
crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. The pounding marathon of shots
and beers with his friends slowly crept right behind. A marijuana induced
night of fun at House of Shock followed by drinks at Pravda. As the minute
details of the past several years and hours of the previous night crackled
through his brain, only one thought came to him as he stared out at the rays
of the morning sun. Lucian, what the fuck did you get me into this time?
"Just keep writing." Out of those simple words grew a dream that would instill a profound sense of purpose within a young kid born and raised in New Orleans, LA. With only his dreams along with an insatiable drive to be the best he could be, this writer would grow from penning children's literature in the 3rd grade to later writing stageplays and screenplays in college. Heavily influenced by a who's who of incredible writers from Langston Hughes, Claude McKay and Ralph Ellison all the way to August Wilson, Arthur Miller and Aaron Sorkin, lazarusInfinity has continued to stretch his creative boundaries to encompass all forms of writing. In addition to writing contemporary fiction and children's stories, he is currently at work on several screenplays along with another novel.