Flock (The Ravenhood Book 1)

by Kate Stewart

My favorite books, love songs, movies, the ones that resonated with me, have kept me grieving long after I turned the last page, the notes faded out, or the credits rolled.

The only love I’ve ever known or craved is the kind that keeps me sick, sick with longing, sick with lust, sick with need, sick with grief. The distorted kind that leaves scars and jaded hearts.

He turns back to me. “I say, it’s the land of the mentally inept, electronically dependent, and brainwashed media slaves.” “You just insulted me. Gravely, I think.” “Sorry, I’m just saying why waste now time worrying about later?” “Now time?” “It’s the only measure of time that matters. Time itself is just an invisible line, a measure people made up, right? You know that. And while it’s good for reference, it’s also a major stress trigger, because you’re letting it control you.” I can’t even deny it. The idea of dinner with Roman is ruining my time with Sean. “Okay, sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t give it power. Now is now, later will eventually be now. Don’t be a slave to the insanity of keeping time and keeping up. Now is the only thing you have control over, and even so, it’s an illusion.”

“Romans 8:38-39.” She navigates to the passage easily and to my surprise, reads it aloud. “For I am sure that neither death nor life,” she whispers softly, “nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

“Eggs—runny, coffee—black, beer—cold, music—loud, cars,” he floors the gas. “Fast,” I say through a laugh.