The Immortals are Dead

His face was handsome and somehow familiar, looking as if he had popped right of a book of old tribal photos. Long black hair flowed down his back and around his shoulders like rivers of night; high cheekbones and strong jaw accented his earth red skin. Matching his eyes, electric blue tattooed flowed and wrapped around his visible body as if the wind had been captured by his skin, appearing to start and end on his face. In a strange way, he was beautiful and frightening simultaneously...and he had come to find Chenoa Rose. Chenoa Rose finds this strange man appearing in her dreams, at her school, and finally at her home. He claims she is a spellbinder, a person whose will is so strong it can control the narration, the stories, of the world around her. Yet can she trust him when there are secrets in his eyes and dreams of a past she doesn't remember? And why does he tell her that her past doesn't matter when others are trying to force to her remember? Does reincarnation really exist or are the others mistaken? More importantly, will remembering her past save her friends and family or make things? The Immortal Are Dead follows Chenoa as she ventures forth from the world she knows to seek the truth among the lies. Are the gods dead or is she one of them?