Dark Hope: Prologue

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by River Grove Books Austin, TX www.rivergrovebooks.com

Copyright ©2014 Monica McGurk

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Distributed by River Grove Books For ordering information or special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact River Grove Books at PO Box 91869, Austin, TX 78709, 512.891.6100.

Design and composition by Greenleaf Book Group Cover design by Greenleaf Book Group Cover images: [background image] ©iStockphoto.com/Rasica; [girl] ©iStockphoto.com/quintanilla; [angel illustration] ©iStockphoto.com/hypergon; [birds] Copyright Background Land, 2014. Used under license from Shutterstock.com

Publisher's Cataloging-In-Publication Data

McGurk, Monica. Dark hope / Monica McGurk.-First edition.

pages ; cm.-(Archangel prophecies ; book 1) Interest age level: Young adult. Issued also as an ebook. ISBN: 978-1-938416-67-5

1. Victims of crimes-Georgia-Atlanta-Fiction. 2. Teenage girls-Georgia- Atlanta-Fiction. 3. Human trafficking-Georgia-Atlanta-Fiction. 4. Children of divorced parents-Georgia-Atlanta-Fiction. 5. Good and evil-Fiction. 6. Young adult fiction. I. Title.

PS3613.C487 D37 2014 813/.6 2013956704

First Edition

Other Editions eBook ISBN: 978-1-938416-69-9


To my husband and children, for their love, patience, and support, and for my fan fiction readers, for their inspiration and encouragement.

A portion of the proceeds from the sale of this book will be donated to organizations that fight human trafficking, especially the sexual trafficking of minors.


Prologue

When the SWAT team stormed the motel room, the first thing they saw was the little girl. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her blankie and sucking her thumb, her bare legs hanging over the edge, absentmindedly kicking at the faded bedspread.

The television set blared-Wile E. Coyote getting crushed by a falling anvil, courtesy once again of the Road Runner.

The girl turned her big brown eyes and stared at the men. She didn't scream; she didn't cry; she just looked at them as if she had been expecting them all along, as if they were as natural a part of the run-down room as the peeling, speckled wallpaper and the rust-colored shag carpet.

They turned and fanned their guns around the room, looking for the man who had taken the girl, the bad man who had hurt other little girls, the man who was lurking in the corner or hiding under the bed. But he wasn't there. The door to the bathroom was closed, however, so they surrounded it.

Two of the men, who looked like bugs in their funny helmets and gas masks, began talking to her, touching her hair, her arms, as if to reassure themselves that she was there, really, really there. Was she all right? Was she hurt?

While they wrapped a blanket around her, another bug-man kicked in the bathroom door and rushed inside, brandishing his gun.

"Oh dear God," he choked out, his voice sounding tinny and far away as he backed out through the door. An acrid smell floated out with him.

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