Brodie Winters Volume 1
By Dion Marc
The Chosen One Chronicles, Book 1
Brodie Winters is the Chosen One, but he doesn't want to be...
Brodie Winters wants nothing more than to retire and have a little fun for once. Unfortunately for him, demon-slaying is more just than a career.
Moonhaven was supposed to be the safest city in America, the perfect choice for an Elemental Channeller seeking a sense of normalcy away from demonic forces. But Brodie was never destined for the mundane: for the Chosen One, danger lurks in every shadow.
So much for settling down.
As Brodie tries to focus on starting college and exploring the queer scene, a series of disappearances drags him back to battling powerful supernatural forces. As it turns out, Moonhaven is rife with evil.
A natural-born protector, Brodie can't help but get involved, threatening his dreams of living a normal life. Worse yet, his new friends may not be able to escape the paranormal either, and it's not going to be pretty.
'The Chosen One: Brodie Winters' is a serialised novella series containing three episodes in each volume. The story contains action, humour, gory horror and high heat. Written by bestselling Author Dion Marc, this story promises to be everything a kinky 90s fanboy of the supernatural could ask for.
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Excerpt
Absolutely not, no way, José. The ‘Chosen One’? Pfft, that was somebody else’s gig. I was officially retiring my world-saving jersey. Some folks might thrive on the adrenaline rush of being humanity’s last hope, but let’s be honest, that was so not my scene. Sure, I’d got this quirky ability to juggle a couple of opposing elements—a neat party trick that tickled the fancy of some dusty old Oracle prophecy. And okay, maybe I’d got a bit more strength than the average Joe, but come on, we weren’t talking about ripping phone books in half here. Herculean? As if. All I wanted to do was to blend into the crowd of clueless college kids and live a normal life, and by Zeus and all his rowdy pals, I was going to make that happen. So, there I was, chucking my fate out the window and hopping on a cross-country bus to Moonhaven, the ‘safe haven’ of the States. Crime rate lower than a limbo stick at a beach party—sounded like a snooze fest, but hey, perfect for a guy looking to ditch destiny and embrace the mundane like me.
Now I didn’t exactly fake my death, but let’s just say I didn’t go out of my way to dispel the myths, either. Picture this: I’d just tussled with a humongous, world-chomping serpent. And instead of emerging heroically from its slimy wreckage to deliver one of those snappy, crowd-pleasing one-liners, I sneaked off, hopped on the first bus outta there, and headed for a brand new chapter. Some might throw around words like ‘chicken’ or ‘coward’ for ducking out, but let’s get real. I’d clocked more world-saving hours in the past three years than they had, so to them I say, lick my arse crack, little blond hairs and all.
As I sat there on the bus, I couldn’t help but think about the new life that awaited me in Moonhaven. It had been hard changing colleges, especially without alerting The Order, but it had been done and I was still ‘dead’. Though I was now in a few classes I didn’t care for, like ‘Warfare Archaeology’ and ‘Ceramics’, hopefully, both turned out to be easy subjects and I could just autopilot them.
We’d crossed the Moonhaven border roughly two hours back. The outskirts of the city were dotted with homes sporting that classic Tudor Revival style, interspersed with generous swathes of parklands and bustling shopping districts. As we neared the city, the architectural charm gave way to a more utilitarian look—houses turning simplistic and boxy.
The bus’s sudden stop jolted me back to the present. An average man in his mid-forties, with uninspiring brown hair and matching eyes, boarded, a newspaper in his grip. My eyes instinctively flicked to the headline: ‘Another College Student Missing’. Then up to the masthead—Moonhaven Times. A familiar tingle of intrigue shot through me, but I forced it down.
“Nope, that’s not me anymore. I’m just a regular college student,” I whispered to myself, trying to dampen the spark of curiosity that flickered within me. The thought of The Order, that starchy group of middle-aged, strait-laced men who controlled the council of elementals, flitted through my mind. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having slipped their grasp. No more orders, no more jumping at their command. I was free, and I intended to keep it that way.
The bus driver’s voice, gruff and bored, announced over the speaker, “Moonhaven University coming up next. Grab your stuff, folks.” It was a routine call, one he’d probably made a thousand times.
I stood up, stretching my six-foot frame, and reached for my bags in the overhead compartment. I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was it. The start of my new, ordinary life. No more battling monsters or dealing with The Order’s nonsense. Just me, Brodie, the average college student. At least, that was what I was aiming for.
Taking in a deep breath, the air was an odd but not unpleasant mix of pine and concrete—definitely a change from what I was used to. Stepping off the bus, I looked up at Moonhaven University. It was an impressive sight, and a pang of nervous excitement hit me. Here goes nothing, I thought.
That was when it happened. Out of nowhere, a skateboarder slammed into me. The collision was so sudden, so unexpected, that for a second, I was just frozen in surprise. I barely budged, thanks to my not-so-average strength, but the poor guy on the skateboard wasn’t so lucky. He bounced off me like I was made of stone and went flying into a nearby bush.
Annoyed but not hurt, I dropped my bags and hurried over to him. “Hey, you okay there?” I asked, reaching into the bush to help him out. The skateboarder was tangled up in the foliage, but thankfully, he had a helmet on.
“Man, you’re hard as a rock,” he groaned, accepting my hand to pull himself up.
I raised an eyebrow. “You should see me when I actually try. This was just me on a light day,” I joked.
He chuckled, brushing off leaves. “I guess I should’ve seen you standing there. It was like running into a wall.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a well-placed obstacle in the path of life’s skateboarders,” I quipped, offering him an arm to steady himself.
The boy took off his helmet, revealing a mass of shocking, bright orange curls. He looked at me, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in his eyes. “I’m Juniper, by the way.”
“Brodie. And no worries, Juniper. I’ve been hit by worse. A skateboard’s nothing compared to a flying demon, trust me.”
Juniper’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait, wait… Did you say demon?”
Backtracking, I said, “Metaphorically speaking. College can be hell, you know.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, thanks for not being mad. Most people would be freaking out.”
“I’m not most people,” I said with a smirk. “But hey, maybe watch out for stationary objects next time?”
“Definitely,” he replied, grinning. “You’re like an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force.”
Science. Damn—I was confused. “Guess that makes me the immovable object,” I said as I picked up my bags.
“You got it.”
I watched Juniper skate away for a moment before realising I had no clue where I was going. Quickly, I turned and jogged after him. “Hey, Juniper!”
He stopped and turned back, a look of concern flashing across his face. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s just… I have no idea where I’m supposed to be going. Do you know where the dorms are?” I held out my university paperwork, feeling a bit foolish.
“Yeah, dude. I owe you one. Let me help,” Juniper said, scanning my papers. “Ah, you’re in the North Wing. I know where that is. Follow me.”
Feeling a bit relieved, I trailed behind him. Juniper led the way, pointing out a few landmarks and buildings as we walked. It was clear he knew the campus well. It was very different from the one The Order sent me to. For one, at least everyone here was dressed in normal clothes instead of those tacky robes that looked like they were from a B grade occult film.
As Juniper led the way to my dorm room, he glanced over at me and said, “You know, you really should’ve gone for a private room.”
I shrugged. “Tried that, but as I’ve transferred here a few weeks into the term, all the private rooms were already taken.”
“Ah, tough break,” he replied, guiding me through the building. He pointed out the communal showers, the small kitchenette on the ground floor, and a lounge area that looked like it had seen better days.
We finally stopped in front of room 1630. Juniper handed me a small slip of paper. “Here’s my number, just in case you need anything or, you know, if you want to hang out.”
I took it, smiling. “Thanks, I’ll definitely give you a shout. Here’s mine,” I said, scribbling down my number.
“Cool, see you around, Brodie,” he said with a wave before heading off.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the door to my new dorm room. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open and…
“Yeah! F*ck me, Daddy!”
My jaw dropped.
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About the Author
Bestselling Scottish Australian author Dion Marc lives and breathes queer art. Whether he is painting, writing, sewing or dancing naked in the moonlight he does it with pride.
He is a practising Hellenistic polytheist who believes in healing the world one hug at a time and that drinking tea without a biscuit is a horrendous crime.
Dion has worked on Harry Potter, Moulin Rouge, Hamilton, 2:22 A ghost Story, Wicked, Chicago and so many more creative and flamboyant shows.
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