EXCERPT:
Michael Santino’s stomach churned in his dream. The wind ruffled his thick, dark hair, causing him to roll over and bury his face in the pillow. The Egyptian cotton felt cool and refreshing as he snuggled deeper into the pillow’s plush, downy comfort.
Another gust raced over his shoulders, and he turned his head and cracked open an eye. Five feet away, his thin bedroom curtains whipped and slapped against the walls on either side of the window.
Should he close the window?
Michael didn’t have the energy to think about it. Set on getting at least two more hours of sleep, he changed position, patting the pillow and pulling the top sheet higher, but still couldn’t get comfortable.
His stomach rolled again, but now the hairs on the back of his neck stood up too. Somewhere deep down in his half-sleep state an inkling tried to rouse him. Then his roiling gut reached up to his consciousness and shook him.
Wake up! Wake up!
Another hot, bitter-smelling gust surged through the window. This one hit Michael’s face precisely under his nose, and he inhaled.
Fire.
Just as he registered the thought, his cell phone rang a few feet from his head. It banged and rumbled, vibrating against his bedside table, and shocking him out of his last bit of sleepiness.
Michael fumbled for the phone and finally grabbed it.
“Dad.” It was more of a question than a greeting. What the hell’s going on?
“Get to the winery. Now,” his father replied, without a trace of panic.
Wide awake, Michael kicked off the covers and got out of bed. Listening to his dad rustling the phone and shouting in the background, he went to the window and pulled back the curtains.
Tension wound up from his feet to his calves, spiraling into a tight tornado, ripping up his spine. Michael tried to process the sight. An ungodly orange glow lit the night sky. His hands started to feel like they were going numb. He didn’t recognize his world. It was like he fell asleep in Napa and woke up on another planet.
The Dark Phantom Review 
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