Assigned by Tomi Farrell

Life begins. Then it ends. Then it begins again… For each life, fate is predetermined; nothing can change its path.

From the moment she was born he has been in her life, watching her; he has known everything about her. He has studied her every expression, feeling, thought… Because she felt, like any other person: she felt joy, happiness, passion, anger, sorrow…
And, he didn’t.
Why does she laugh? Why does she cry? Why does she feel…? Despite his exhaustive knowledge about her, he couldn’t answer these questions. They speculated that the best way to study emotions and feelings was to examine and analyze the one thing they didn’t have. For this, he was assigned to her.

And now, their time has come.

SKU: B07L1YNCFH Categories: Multicultural & Interracial, Mystery & Suspense, Science Fiction Tags: destiny, fantasy, Fate, Hitomi Farrell, native american, pure romance, reincarnation, science fiction, SciFi romance, spiritual, thriller, Tomi Farrell

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About the author:

Through considerable production work for films, TV, and other media in the crazy town called Hollywood, and also working as a travel journalist, Tomi gained extensive insight into storytelling, which inspired her to write books and screenplays.

She has written more than a dozen feature screenplays and six books thus far, and continues to write to this day.

Visit hitomifarrell.com/books 🙂

What inspired you to write your book?

I've written a screenplay of this story – this book is based on that. 🙂

Here is a short sample from the book:

It was an exceptionally clear night.
The deep sky towered above me, reminding me that my existence was merely a tiny particle—if anything at all—of the infinity which spread above me.
My eyes were fastened on the Andromeda Galaxy, which shone, as clearly visible as it could ever be, to my naked eyes. An immense halo glistened, enhancing the infinite beauty of a trillion stars.
I shifted my gaze toward the west. A clear night it sure was.
I gasped in awe, as my eyes caught sight of the beautiful, blurred light of the pinwheel: the Triangulum Galaxy. The galaxy was strongly affected by light pollution and, with or without binoculars or a telescope, it was always a challenge to see it. Yet, that night, without any form of aid, I was standing there, directly looking at it, my eyes witnessing the spectacular. I exhaled deeply, completely intoxicated by its majestic charm.
I leaned into my telescope-attached DSLR camera (well, my father’s, originally), and peeked through the lens, which I had set to manual focus, turning on ‘Live View’. Zooming in, to the shimmering light of the pinwheel, I rotated the camera’s focus ring, until each star appeared sharp. I used high ISO-sensitivity levels and set my aperture; shutter speed: twenty-five seconds. The sound of the shutter echoed in the quiet, like a loud musical instrument.
I had no doubt that I could take the most dazzling photographs of the galaxy tonight, if I could see it with an unaided eye, and my expectation appeared to be met with no disappointment. The image which showcased in my viewfinder fascinated me beyond what any words could describe; I could even see the galaxy’s globular clusters, dust-lanes and the spiral structure itself.
There really shouldn’t be any logical explanation—if not for the thing called “technology”—of how something three-million light-years away could be right before your eyes, so vividly and scintillatingly. It was simply magical.
“You should have seen this, Daddy.” I murmured, as I finally pried my eyes away from the pinwheel, rising from the camera. “Your galaxy looks beyond amazing tonight.”
The Triangulum Galaxy wasn’t literally my father’s, of course, but it was his favorite; mine was the Andromeda Galaxy. We’d claimed them as our own, just for fun.
My father and I used to visit this spot together a lot: the top of the mountain, from where we could get an unobstructed view of the night sky. This was our spot. This was our thing. We would stand here for hours, watching the stars and taking photographs of them. We used to talk a lot, about what might be out there; we wondered if there were worlds like ours, and life like ours on other planets… well, I did. When I asked him about it, he would always tell me to find out myself when I grew up—to become an astrophysicist. This became my dream, ever since I was a little girl—a pact I made with him.
I gazed at the silent night sky, as if waiting for it to say something back to me. The sparkling sky, with its zillions of stars, remained silent.
“I miss you…” The stars became blurred, as I felt warmth on my cheeks.