BOOK REVIEW + Chapter 1 : Echo (The Soul Seekers #2) by Alyson Noel

"A rush of romance will sweep you away in this hauntingly mystical read. I'm already as addicted to Daire and Dace as I was to Ever and Damen!" –Justine magazine

She inherited a magical destiny—and a mission to stop a powerful family of dark sorcerers. She never expected to fall in love with one of them.

There’s still so much Daire Santos has to learn about being the last Soul Seeker….and about herself.  As her magical training becomes more intense, so does her relationship with Dace.  But when she learns that his connection to the evil Richter family goes far deeper than she ever imagined, she begins to question if love really can conquer all.

Dace is painfully aware that he wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the Richters’ dark magic—and now his brother Cade is determined to use his love for Daire against him.  Dace is willing to sacrifice anything to protect the girl he loves —including his own life.  But will Daire allow it?  And what if defeating Cade costs not only his life, but his soul too?

Enchanting, haunting, romantic, Echo is the second book in the Soul Seekers series by #1 New York Times bestselling author Alyson Noël!



ECHO picked up where Fated ends. But unlike Fated, the second book doesn't dwell more on backstories and information, Echo jumps right into the plot. ECHO centers more on Daire and Dace's dangerous mission to save the Lowerworld from being corrupted by his twin evil brother Cade. The story is told both from Daire and Dace's perspectives. Daire continues with learning her different abilities, surpassing the challenges and understanding what it really means to be a Soul Seeker and understanding herself. A new character, Phyre is introduced, she is shown at the end having a meaningful conversation with her father, which tells us, they have a bigger role in the books to come.

But I really believe what makes ECHO so gripping is the main characters' relationship; their love has become stronger as well as the complications and danger that comes with Daire as a Soul Seeker and Dace as the Echo. It's so heartbreaking to see them perfect for each other but they cannot be together for the greater good.

Daire does a lot of growing in ECHO, in the earlier part, she is naïve and afraid but eventually she becomes confident, braver and the warrior her Abuela believes she should be. Dace opens himself through his own POV. We get to learn his thoughts, his fears, and his love for Daire.

I was actually thinking that Cade would play the Jacob or the bad-boy-who's-in-love-with-Daire part in the second book,ECHO but I was totally wrong. Cade became the personification of evil in this story. I just wish that we got to know more of him, like what's he really thinking, because although he was the topic of the main characters, he doesn't really showing up that much in ECHO.

The descriptions of the elemental song and the majestic scenes make this book entertaining.

However, I must admit that there are boring parts but it won't deter a fan from continuing.

This book had lots, and I mean lots of turns and twists. Decisions made, choices undertaken and the consequences that result are all surprising. The book ends with a beautiful and frustrating cliffhanger that reveals nothing but more questions. ECHO will surely make you wish Mystic is out already.

ECHO is an epic, fast-paced, magical page-turner that leaves the reader captivated and enthralled. It ends with chills, shivers, goosebumps and an insatiable want to read what's next!


Copy provided by Fresh Fiction 

Chapter 1
 
Daire's POV

Horse carries us across an expansive terrain with Raven riding high on his neck. His steps measured. Sure. The sound of his hooves meeting the earth resulting in a satisfying shuffle and crunch that always makes me feel as though we’re getting somewhere. Making progress. Despite the fact that we’ve been hunting for weeks with no sign of the enemy.

That’s what I call them—the enemy. Sometimes I switch it with intruders or even interlopers. And when it’s been an especially long day of hunting that has me feeling punchy, I refer to them as fiends.
Though I never call them by their real name.

I never refer to them as Richters.

They may be undead Richters, but they’re still Richters, and Paloma warned me to never inform Dace of his dark origins. Claimed there’s no need for him to know his existence stems from magick of the blackest kind. And even though being the keeper of such a horrible truth makes me feel dishonest at best and disloyal at worst, I can’t help but think that my grandmother’s right.

If anyone should tell him, it’s Chepi, his mother. But so far she’s kept silent.

I loosen my hold on Dace’s waist and sigh as I look all around. Taking in a spread of gleaming tall grass—the blades bending and flattening under Horse’s forged path—the grove of tall trees that mark the perimeter, providing shelter to birds, monkeys, and the occasional nut-seeking squirrel. My gaze cutting through the fading afternoon light—searching, always searching. But as always, there’s no sign of corruption, no sign of their presence.

Maybe the Bone Keeper found them?

I clasp the thought tightly, liking the feel of it. Not wanting to release it no matter how improbable. While I’ve no doubt the skull-faced, serpent-skirt-wearing, star-eating queen of the Lowerworld is more than capable of capturing them, if not obliterating them, I also know it won’t be that easy.
Having made this mess, it’s mine to fix.

“It still seems odd.” I press my lips to the nape of Dace’s neck, the words muffled by his long glossy sheet of dark hair. “You know, this perpetual cycle of night and day. It seems too normal, too ordinary for such an extraordinary place.”

I study the late-afternoon shadow that appears to be stalking us. An unlikely, elongated silhouette of a raven with a spindly stem of a neck, and two ridiculously tall people sitting astride a horse with legs so stretched and skinny they hardly look able to support us—the exaggerated shape heralding a night soon to fall.

Though the truth is, what qualifies as night in the Lowerworld isn’t much more than a trifling fade, falling far short of the heavy, black, star-dusted New Mexico sky I’ve grown used to. Though, I’m glad for its arrival all the same. Glad to have this day reaching its end.

I rest my chin on Dace’s shoulder, picking up where I left off. “Not to mention there’s no sign of a sun—so how’s it even possible? How can it rise and set when it doesn’t exist?”

Dace laughs in response, the sound throaty, deep, and so alluring I inch my body closer until it’s pressed hard against his. Determined to conform to every valley and curve of his back, wanting him to be as aware of me as I am of him.

“Oh, there’s a sun.” He cricks his neck until he’s looking at me. “Leftfoot’s seen it.” His icy-blue eyes capture mine, reflecting my long dark hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin until I look away, dizzy with the sight of it.

“And you believe him?” I frown, unable to keep the skepticism from creeping into my voice.
Convinced it’s yet another of the old medicine man’s fantastical tales he told Dace as a kid.

“Of course.” Dace shrugs. “And if we’re lucky, maybe someday we’ll see it too.”

I rub my lips together and slip a hand under the hem of his sweater. My fingers are chilly, his flesh is warm, and yet he doesn’t so much as flinch. Rather he welcomes my touch by urging my palm flat against him.

“The only thing I want to see now is…” I try to push my mind back to the job we’ve set out to do, but it’s not long before the thought fades along with my words.

The lure of Dace is too strong, and he must sense my mood because the next thing I know, he’s turning Horse around. Nudging him back over the wide, grassy slope, heading toward a favored destination of ours.

copyright @Alyson Noel

ARC Review + Chapter 1: Lullaby by Amanda Hocking

Lullaby by Amanda Hocking

• Reading level: Ages 12 and up
• Hardcover: 304 pages
• Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin; First Edition edition (November 27, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1250005655

Harper only wanted a safe, normal life. But when her younger sister Gemma runs off with a dangerous clique of beautiful girls, Penn, Thea, and Lexi, everything changes. Vowing to get her sister back no matter what the cost, Harper must face dangers unlike any she's ever experienced. Fortunately, she has Daniel by her side, a gorgeous guy who's devoted to helping her find her sister—and who's immune to the girls' dark powers.

While Harper searches for her sister, Gemma struggles to adjust to her new life.  Gemma's powers are growing by the day, and the longer she lives with her new "sisters," the harder it is to resist entering their magical world.  It's a realm both dark and beautiful, and where she's plagued by strange hungers and unspeakable needs.  Just as she's drifting far away from her old life,  Harper and Daniel find her...but no one can deny how much she's changed.  All she wants is to return to her family and the mortal world, but how can she do that when she's become something else entirely—and will they still love her once they learn the truth?

Prepare to fall under the spell of Lullaby, the second book in the Watersong series from New York Times bestselling author Amanda Hocking.

I had read the ARC of Wake, the first book in the Watersong Series and although I didn’t really love it that much, I still want to know what happens next to Gemma and Harper, and LULLABY provided a very nice second book.

Gemma is now powerful, stronger and more beautiful, she can even turn into a mermaid. But this new life also costs her, her family and her normal life. Struggling not to become monsters like her new sisters, Penn, Thea, and Lexi, proves to be difficult especially that being a Siren requires killing people for survival. Can she really resist the sea and the new her, even if her hair’s falling out?

Harper will not be stopped until she got her sister back. With the gorgeous Daniel at her side, who seems to be immune to the Sirens, and Alex, together they’ll find clues which not only will bring them to Gemma but opens up to more questions. Will she also find the courage to finally figure out what Daniel meant to her? Could she ever bring back her sister after she finds out the truth about what Gemma had become?

Unlike Wake, LULLABY delves deeper into each characters psyche, we still have the POV’s of Gemma and Harper, but it’s mostly onto Harper. We got to know Harper more, how she loved Gemma like her own child, how she struggles with her feelings for Daniel, thinking that love isn’t meant for her. Seriously?!, this couple is the cutest I’ve ever seen. They’re love for each other is true, the chemistry is there although they’re not officially in the relationship. Whenever they are on the same page, the pull is kinda magnetic and electric.

Gemma’s character also has developed a lot, she now considers what her actions could do to the people she loved, and realize what she’d just become and struggles to keep her morality. The boys, Daniel and Alex also have mysteries surrounding them, though we could find that out in the next book. Marcy appeared again, and her snarky comments still define her. I wish Nathalie appeared more on here; I miss her just as the sisters missed her.

The story is more on transition, there are not many action scenes, but we discover some mystery and are left with more. We’re given knowledge about the mythology in this book, the siren ways and the curse. The writing is quick though; the conversations and scenes are lively and do not drag on. And the ending is a cliffhanger, like expected and it did a good job of making me want to have the next book.:D

I will read the next book in the series and hopefully will figure out some of the questions running in my head, especially what’s so special with the Boys of Capri. If you’re a fan or just intrigue with Amanda Hocking, you should give this series a try!

View all my reviews
 DISCLAIMER: I received this pdf  from FreshFiction in exchange of my honest review. First appeared on FreshFiction.

CHAPTER ONE

Aftermath


Harper woke up when the sun was just beginning to set, and squinted at the dim orange light streaming in through her curtains. For one moment—one brief, glorious moment—she’d forgotten about the night before, the night when her little sister had been attacked before turning into some kind of mermaid and disappearing in the ocean.
Then it all came back to her. Her head throbbed at the memory, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
After Gemma had swum away, leaving Harper alone on the dock at Bernie’s Island, Daniel had checked on Alex to make sure that he was all right. When they’d arrived at the cabin, Alex had been lying unconscious on the floor. Harper hadn’t seen what had happened, but it wasn’t hard for her to imagine.
A horrible bird-creature stood over him. Its mouth was filled with razor-sharp teeth, and massive black wings stretched out behind it. Then it had shifted, changing form into a different kind of monster—the beautiful Penn.
It was almost impossible for Harper to wrap her mind around. When Alex had come to, he’d been certain the things he remembered were a bizarre dream brought on by head trauma. But Harper and Daniel had been forced to tell him that it was all true. The monsters were real, and Gemma was gone.
Then, after all of that, Harper knew she had to go home and attempt to explain to her father what had happened, even though she didn’t understand it herself. Not that she could tell him the truth—there was no way any sane person would believe it unless he had witnessed it for himself.
So Harper told Brian that Gemma had run off with Penn and her friends. It was something close to the truth, but even that was still hard for him to comprehend. Harper stayed up all morning convincing her father that Gemma wasn’t coming home, and that was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do.
But she knew things were only going to get harder. Harper didn’t even know what Penn and the other girls were, let alone how to stop them or how to get Gemma back.
Lying in bed all day wouldn’t solve anything, though. Harper rolled over and grabbed her cell phone from the bedside table, meaning to check the time, and noticed she had two missed calls from a number she didn’t know. Gemma had left her cell phone behind, so if she called, it would be from an unfamiliar number.
Harper’s heart dropped to her stomach. She’d been so dead tired that she’d slept right through her phone ringing. Harper hurried to check her voice mail.
“You have one new message,” the automated voice told her, and Harper cursed herself under her breath. If she’d missed a call from her sister, she’d never be able to forgive herself.
“Hey, Harper, this is Daniel,” his deep voice came through the phone.
“Daniel,” Harper whispered, and put her free hand on her forehead, listening to his message.
“I got your number from the surly girl at the library. I wanted to make sure that you got home all right and see how you’re doing after … well, you know, what happened last night.
“I’ve been keeping an eye out for Gemma, like you asked me to. I took the boat out earlier, but I didn’t see her. I’ll keep looking, and I’ll let you know if I find anything.
“So anyway, give me a call later.” Daniel paused. “I hope you’re doing okay.”
When his message ended, she left her phone at her ear for a minute, even after the automated voice assured her that she had no other messages.
It was thoughtful of Daniel to call and check up on her, but Harper couldn’t call him back. The strange dalliance she’d had with him had to be pushed out of her mind. If he found out anything about Gemma, Daniel would let her know, but that was the only time she should be talking to him. Whatever was happening to Gemma came first. Harper had to deal with that before she could think of anything else.
Harper had slept in her clothes from last night, and they stank like the ocean and sweat. She grabbed a change of clothes, then crept across the hall to the bathroom in case her father was home. There was nothing more she could say to him about Gemma’s disappearance, but she knew Brian would want to keep rehashing it until it made sense.
She cleaned up quickly, then got dressed. She’d started to sneak back to her room when she glanced over at Gemma’s. Something about the sight of the darkened room broke her heart. Pausing at the doorway, Harper couldn’t help but wonder if Gemma would ever stay in this room again.
Harper swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling. Of course Gemma would stay here again. Harper wouldn’t stop searching until Gemma was home.
When Harper turned back to her own room, she nearly yelped in surprise. Alex was sitting on her bed, staring down at the floor and looking forlorn.
“Alex?” Harper managed once the beating of her heart slowed. “What are you doing here?” She stepped into her room.
“Oh, sorry.” He lifted his head and motioned toward the downstairs. “Your dad let me in. I came over to talk.”
She glanced back behind her, half expecting Brian to be standing in the hall eavesdropping, and then she shut the bedroom door.
“How did my dad seem?” Harper asked.
“Okay, I guess.” Alex shrugged, and she noticed a cut on his forehead, probably from whatever had knocked him out last night. “A little sad and confused. He asked me about Gemma, but I told him I don’t know where she is.”
She’d meant to call Alex so they could get their stories straight about what had happened to Gemma. The truth was that they didn’t know where she was, and that was as good an answer as any.
“So, what the hell happened last night?” Alex asked her directly.
“I have no idea.” Harper shook her head and sat down in the chair in front of her desk. “I don’t even know what those … those things were.”
“I can barely even remember what they look like anymore.” His brow furrowed as he tried to think. “Last night’s a weird blur of images that don’t even make sense.”
“That’s probably because you hit your head,” Harper said.
Alex seemed to think about it for a minute, then said, “No. I don’t think so. I remember everything really clearly until we were in the cove and that song started.”
Harper had actually forgotten about the song until Alex mentioned it. She couldn’t remember the words, but the melody surfaced, like a half-forgotten dream.
There were a few minutes in the cove that Harper couldn’t really remember, either. The events were a haze of confusion, though she recalled a longing and a pull toward the phantom song. Daniel had helped keep her from diving into the ocean the way Alex had, but that was about all she could remember until they were on the boat again.
“Did you swim to the island?” Harper asked, realizing that he must have.
“I think so.” He shook his head again. “I can’t really remember much. There was the song, then I was swimming, and then I was on the island. Those pretty girls were there, and … and Gemma. She kissed me…” He swallowed hard.
“Do you remember the creature?” Harper asked.
“The bird?” Alex asked, and she nodded. “Is that what it was? A really big bird?”
“It was more like a bird-monster,” Harper tried to explain. “But then it changed and turned into Penn.”
“So those pretty girls are some kind of shape-shifters?” Alex asked. “Because they turned into fish, right? Gemma and the girls turned into fish, then swam off?”
“Mermaids, I think,” Harper corrected him.
“This is so insane,” Alex said quietly, almost to himself, then he looked up at Harper, his dark brown eyes locking seriously on hers. “Stupid question time, but I have to ask. Gemma hasn’t, like … always been a mermaid, has she? This isn’t some family curse thing like on Teen Wolf?”
“No.” Harper smiled despite herself and shook her head. “No. There’s no history of mermaids or any other mythological beings in our family.”
“Okay. Good,” Alex said, then changed his mind and wagged his head back and forth. “Well, not really. If you knew what this was, it would be easier to deal with.”
“It certainly would,” she agreed.
“So you don’t have any idea what Gemma or Penn or the girls might be?” Alex asked.
“No,” Harper admitted regretfully.
“And you don’t know where they went?”
“Nope.”
“So. How are we gonna get her back?” Alex asked.
“Well…” Harper took a deep breath. “We figure out what they are and how to stop them, then we find them and we take Gemma back.”

Copyright © 2012 by Amanda Hocking

ARC Review + Chapter 1: Whispers at Moonrise by C.C. Hunter

Whispers at Moonrise by C.C. Hunter

• Reading level: Ages 12 and up
• Paperback: 400 pages
• Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin; Original edition (October 2, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1250011914

Shadow Falls Camp is back in session with the most explosive installment yet.  A shocking new threat will rock Shadow Falls—changing it forever and altering Kylie’s journey in ways she never imagined.

Even at a camp for supernatural teens, Kylie Galen has never been normal. Not only can she see ghosts, but she doesn’t seem to belong to any one species—she exhibits traits from them all. As Kylie struggles to unlock the secrets of her identity, she begins to worry that Lucas will never be able to accept her for what she is, and what she isn’t…a werewolf.  With his pack standing in their way, Kylie finds herself turning more and more to Derek, the only person in her life who’s willing to accept the impossible.

As if life isn’t hard enough, she starts getting visits from the ghost of Holiday, her closest confidante.  Trouble is, Holiday isn’t dead…not yet anyway.  Now Kylie must race to save one of her own from an unseen danger before it’s too late—all while trying to stop her relationship with Lucas from slipping away forever.   In a world of constant confusion, there’s only one thing Kylie knows for sure.  Change is inevitable and all things must come to an end…maybe even her time at Shadow Falls.

The breathtaking fourth installment of the New York Times bestselling Shadow Falls series from author C. C. Hunter...Whispers at Moonrise.

Hmmm, I feel guilty because this will surely be a biased review. WHY? I hadn’t followed the series; in fact this is the first book I’ll be reading from C.C. Hunter. I just asked to review this when I saw her name and all the fussed about her books, not even thinking that this is the fourth book in the series. So, I’m not so totally in love with the story! Sorry!

Kylie Galen, the heroine, finally knew what she is, a Chameleon, BUT she doesn’t know what that means! More confusing of all, she can see ghosts and she seems to have the characteristics of all supernatural species. As if she doesn’t have enough problems, her love life goes in the way. Lucas, a werewolf has been torn because he must be with a werewolf too to have his way in the council, and Kylie isn’t one. So Kylie doesn’t have a choice but to lean on Derek, only that he is having problems of his own too!!! Amazingly, Holiday, a friend of hers visits her as a ghost, only that he isn’t dead! (Now, I’m finally sure, this book is getting in my head!!!).Now, Kylie must save someone, then mend her relationship with Lucas, and figure out Derek and finally understand what really she is! Confusion really is in the air.

The plot is something I will never get tired of. Mystery, confusion, shocking revelations and twists are all over the book. Hunter wrote a well-developed storyline, only that I hope it didn’t dwell much on figuring out about the chameleon thing. It was action-packed, and I was constantly in a roller-coaster of emotions, I laughed, cried, got pissed, and anything in between! The ending is a certified cliffhanger I never saw coming, and for that, I look forward to reading C.C. Hunter’s book, and if given the chance will even want to read the prior books.

What annoys me a little of this book is how many times, Kylie doesn’t know what she was but still keeps thinking about it plus, who should she choose between Derek and Lucas, but knowing that she don’t know too. These are two topics that I may as well skip. I’m not a hater of love triangles, but this book made me frustrated. In my humble opinion, she don’t deserve to have any of those boys, they’re too stupid and unworthy of her!!! (Good job to Hunter though, for pulling a triangle like that, making one think who’s perfect, then ruining it after, to change her reader’s mind).

WHISPERS AT MOONRISE is the sequel in C.C. Hunter’s “Shadow Falls” that you shouldn’t miss. Filled with mystery, resolutions, more questions, love story, friendship, creepiness, magic, werewolves, chameleon, this book will leave you breathless and wanting for more, especially to those who followed the series! Another paranormal at its best! Highly recommended for everyone!

View all my reviews

DISCLAIMER: I received this pdf  from FreshFiction in exchange of my honest review. First appeared on FreshFiction.

Chapter One


Kylie Galen stood on the porch outside the Shadow Falls office, panic stabbing at her sanity. A gust of late August wind, still chilled by her father’s departing spirit, picked up her long strands of blond hair and scattered them across her face. She didn’t brush them away. She didn’t breathe. She just stood there, air trapped in her lungs, while she stared through the wisps of hair at the trees swaying in the breeze.
Why does my life have to be so damn hard? The question rolled around her head like a Ping-Pong ball gone wild. The answer spun back just as quick.
Because you’re not all human. For the last few months, she’d struggled to identify the type of non-human blood that rushed through her veins. Now she knew.
According to her dear ol’ dad, she was … a chameleon. As in a lizard, just like the ones she’d seen sunning themselves in her backyard. Okay, so maybe not just like those, but close enough. And here she’d been worried about being a vampire or a werewolf because it would be a little hard to adjust to drinking blood or shape-shifting on full moons. But this … this was … unfathomable. Her father had to be wrong.
Her heart pounded against her chest as if seeking escape. She finally breathed. In, and then out. Her thoughts shot away from the lizard issue to the other bad stuff.
Yup. In the last five minutes she’d been slapped with not one, not two, not even three, but with four oh-crap eye-opening revelations.
Well, one thing—Derek’s confession that he loved her—couldn’t completely be called bad. But it sure as hell couldn’t be called good. Not now. Not when she considered them history. Not when she’d spent the last few weeks trying to convince herself that they were just friends.
Her mind juggled all four disclosures. She didn’t know which to focus on first. Or maybe her mind did know. I’m a freaking lizard!
“For real?” she spoke aloud. The Texas wind snatched away her words. She hoped it would take them all the way to her father—wherever the dead who hadn’t completely passed over went to wait. “Seriously, Dad?”
Of course, Dad didn’t answer. After two months of dealing with one spirit or another, the whole ghost-whispering gift and its limitations still managed to piss her off. “Damn!”
She took another step toward the main office’s door to unload on Holiday Brandon, the camp leader, then stopped. Burnett James, the other camp leader and a cold to the touch but hot to look at vampire, was with Holiday. Since Kylie couldn’t hear them arguing anymore, she figured that meant they might be doing something else—like sucking face, swapping spit, doing the tongue tango. All phrases her bad-attitude vampire roommate Della would use. Which probably meant Kylie was in a bad mood. But didn’t she deserve a little attitude after everything that had happened?
Clenching her fists, she stared at the office’s front door. She’d inadvertently interrupted their first kiss and she didn’t want to do the same with their second. Especially when Burnett had threatened to resign from Shadow Falls. Surely Holiday could change his mind. Couldn’t she?
Besides, maybe Kylie needed to calm down. To think things through before she ran to Holiday in bad-attitude hysterics. Her thoughts shifted to her latest ghost issue. How could a ghost of someone who was alive appear to Kylie? A trick, right? Had to be a trick.
She glanced around to make sure the ghost had really gone. The cold had vanished.
Turning, she shot down the porch steps and headed around to the back of the office. She started running, wanting to experience the sense of freedom she got when she ran, when she ran fast, ran non-human fast.
The wind picked up the black dress she’d worn to Ellie’s funeral and sent the hem dancing against her thighs. Her feet moved in rhythm, barely missing the Reeboks she usually wore, but when she arrived at the edge of the woods, she came to an abrupt halt—so abrupt that the heels on her black dress shoes cut deep ruts into the earth.
She couldn’t go into the woods. She didn’t have a shadow—the mandatory person with her to help ward off the evil Mario and his rogue buddies if they decided to attack.
Attack again.
So far the old man’s attempts at ending her life had proved futile, but two of those times had resulted in the death of someone else.
Guilt fluttered through her already tight chest. Fear followed it. Mario had proven how far he’d go to get to her, how evil he was when he’d taken his own grandson’s life right in front of her. How could anyone be that wicked?
She stared at the trees and watched as their leaves danced in the breeze. It was a completely normal slice of scenery that should have put her at peace.
But she felt no peace. The woods, or rather something that hid within, dared her to enter. Taunted her to move into the thick line of trees. Confused by the strange feeling, she tried to push it away, but the feeling intensified.
She inhaled the green scent of the forest, and she knew.
Knew with clarity.
Knew with certainty.
Mario wouldn’t give up. Sooner or later she would face him again. And it wouldn’t be serene, tranquil, or peaceful. Only one of them would walk away.
You will not be alone. The words echoed deep within her as if to offer her peace. No peace came. The shadows between the trees danced on the ground. Calling her, beckoning her. To do what, she didn’t know.
Trepidation took another lap around her chest. She dug the heels of her shoes deeper into the hard dirt. The heel of her right shoe cracked—an ominous little sound that seemed to punctuate the silence.
“Crap!” She stared down at her feet. The one word seemed yanked from the air, leaving nothing but a hum of eeriness.
And that’s when she heard it.
Someone drew in a raspy breath. While the sound came only at a whisper, she knew that the owner of this breath stood behind her. Stood close. And since no chill of death surrounded her, she knew it wasn’t from the spirit world.
The sound came again. Someone fed life-giving air into their lungs. Odd how she now feared the living more than she feared the dead.
Her heart thudded to a stop. Much like the grooves left in the earth by her three-inch heels, her growing dread left ruts in her courage.
She wasn’t ready. If it was Mario, she wasn’t ready. Whatever it was she needed to do, whatever plan or fate she was destined to follow, she needed more time.


Copyright © 2012 by Christie Craig

Book Review +Chapter 1: Fated by Alyson Noel

Fated by Alyson Noel

• Reading level: Ages 12 and up
• Hardcover: 368 pages
• Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin (May 22, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0312664850
• ISBN-13: 978-0312664855

Until now, he's existed only in her dreams -
but fate is about to bring them together.

I shove through the crowd, knocking into girls and bouncing off boys, until one in particular catches me, steadies me.
I feel so secure, so at home in his arms.
I melt against his chest-lift my gaze to meet his. Gasping when I stare into a pair of icy blue eyes banded by brilliant flecks of gold that shine like kaleidoscopes, reflecting my image thousands of times.
The boy from my dream.
The one who died in my arms.

 The cover is so gorgeous. The hair, the earrings, the color (I got the pink version) it all mixed so well.Pretty!!!

I’ve read Alyson Noel’s Immortal Series, although I haven’t read the last book yet. For me that series, has high and lows, it got a good beginning, but the middle books started to go slow for me (like, you fell in love with a television show, then the director thought of extending it because he thought we’ll like it, but no, it just actually ruined the story, better to go with the original storyline I guess), a friend o fmine said, the last book EVERLASTING is as good as the first book, so I think I’ll give it a try.>:D. With FATED, her new series, I have doubts, but with the nicest cover among her books up-to-date, and a promising new theme, I couldn’t resist the lure, and so here I am, just finished reading it and fully-satisfied.>:D

Daire and her mother, Jennika have always moved to different places and get to interact with famous people, that’s one great privilege of your mother being a Hollywood make-up artist. One queer thing she has never told anyone even her mother, since they won’t believe her, is that there are times, when all stand still except her, like time has stopped except for her. It’s fun and she got used to it but on her sixteenth birthday, lots of things begin to happen and they’re not good. She’s been haunted by dreams and reality alike, worse, her mother and doctor believes she’s delusional. When she and her mother don’t know what to do, Paloma, Daire’s grandmother suggested to take care of Daire. So Daire goes with her grandma to Enchantment, Mexico (the name already gives the vibe), learns her bloodline, her ability, her family’s past, her destiny and the boy she must save.

I don’t know why, but I fully understand the prologue, and the story just got better the more I read. I always love Noel’s writing style, I just hope that she won’t get sidetracked with the middle books and continue her planned storyline. Noel doesn’t just write stories, she brings her readers into her story and made them experience themselves. I love the animal guides, the sayings, the crow prints in the pages made this book superb. The characters, flawed as ordinary humans, are all unique and relatable. The idea of a good/bad twin (Dace and Cade) is good, though how I wish it isn’t so clear who Daire wants. It ends where the pieces started to clicked and yet leaves enough space for new questions that hopefully will be answered in the next book. The Native American Mythology is a new theme for me that will entertain me for awhile. :D

FATED is not just another paranormal story, it has substance, family relationships, friendship, a romance that’s not over-the-top, learning and lore. It’s a promising first book that not only engage and keep you on edge but would surely make you a fan of the Soul Seekers Series (glad to be part of it). A page turner from start to finish. Very highly recommended!

P.S. Even if you’re not into The Immortal Series or Riley Bloom Series, give this one a try, it won’t disappoint you if you’re looking for a fresh read.

Thanks to Alexandra Mencel at St. Martin’s Griffin for this finished copy and a promised of ECHO in exchange for my honest review. Looking forward to reading it..:D

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CHAPTER 1
There are moments in life when everything pauses.
The earth hesitates, the atmosphere stills, and time shrinks and folds onto itself until it collapses into a big tired heap.
As I push through the small wooden door of the riad where Jennika and I have camped out the past several weeks, trading the hush of the rose-and-honeysuckle-scented courtyard for the chaos of the serpentine maze of medina--it happens again.
But instead of mimicking the stillness like I usually do, I decide to go with it and try something fun. Easing my way along connecting salmon-colored walls, I pass a small, thin man caught in midstride, press my fingers against the soft white cotton of his gandora, and gently spin him around until he's facing the opposite way. Then after ducking beneath a mangy black cat that, caught in midleap, appears to be flying, I stop at the corner where I take a moment to rearrange a display of shiny brass lanterns an old man is selling, before moving on to the very next stall where I slip a pair of bright blue babouches onto my feet, decide that I like them, and leave my old leather sandals along with a fistful of crumpled-up dirhams as payment.
My eyes burning with the effort of keeping them open, knowing the instant I blink, the gandora-clad man will be one step farther from his destination, the cat will land on its mark, and two vendors will gaze at their wares in total confusion--the scene will return to one of perpetual chaos.
Though when I spot the glowing people hovering on the periphery, studying me in the careful way that they do, I'm quick to squinch my eyes shut and block them from view. Hoping that this time, just like all the others, they'll fade away too. Return to wherever it is that they go when they're not watching me.
I used to think everyone experienced moments like that, until I confided in Jennika who shot me a skeptical look and blamed it on jet lag.
Jennika blames everything on jet lag. Insists time stops for no one--that it's our job to keep up with its frantic forward march. But even back then I knew better--I've spent my entire life crossing time zones, and what I'd experienced had nothing to do with a whacked-out body clock.
Still, I was careful not to mention it again. I just waited quietly, patiently, hoping the moment would soon return.
And it did.
Over the past few years they've been slowly increasing, until lately, ever since we arrived in Morocco, I've been averaging three a week.
A guy my age passes, his shoulder purposely slamming into mine, his dark eyes leering in a way that reminds me to arrange my blue silk scarf so that it covers my hair. I round a corner, eager to arrive well before Vane, so I can catch the Djemâa el Fna at dusk. Banging into the square, where I'm confronted by a long line of open-air grills bearing goats and pigeons and other unidentifiable meats, their skinned and glazed carcasses rotating on spits, shooting savory clouds of spice-laden smoke into the air...the hypnotic lull of the snake charmer's tune emanating from cross-legged old men perched on thick woven mats, playing their pungis as glassy-eyed cobras rise up before them...all of it unfolding to the spellbinding pulse of gnaoua drums that continuously thrum in the background--the sound-track for the nightly resurrection of a bewitching square returning to life.
I take a deep breath, savoring the heady blend of exotic oils and jasmine, as I cast a final glance around, knowing this is one of the last times I'll see it this way. The film will wrap soon, and Jennika and I will be off to what ever movie, on what ever location requires her services as an award-winning makeup artist. Who knows if we'll ever return?
Picking my way toward the first food cart, the one beside the snake charmer where Vane waits, I steal a handful of much-needed seconds to crush that annoying ping of weakness that grabs at my gut every time that I see him--every time I take in his tousled sandy blond hair, deep blue eyes, and softly curving lips.
Sucker! I think, shaking my head, adding: Fool!
It's not like I don't know any better. It's not like I don't know the rules.
The key is to not get involved--to never allow myself to care. To just focus on having some fun, and never look back when it's time to move on.
Vane's pretty face, just like all the other pretty faces before him, belongs to his legions of fans. Not one of those faces has ever belonged to me--and they never, ever will.
Having grown up on movie sets since I was old enough for Jennika to sling me into a backpack, I've played my role as the kid of a crew member countless times: Stay quiet, stay out of the way, lend a hand when asked, and never confuse movie set relationships for the real thing.
The fact that I've been dealing with celebrities my entire life leaves me not so easily impressed, which is probably the number one reason they're always so quick to like me. I mean, while I'm okay to look at--tall-ish, skinny-ish, with long dark hair, fair-ish skin, and bright green eyes that people like to comment on, I'm pretty much your standard issue girl. Though I never fall to pieces when I meet someone famous. I never get all red-cheeked and gushy and insecure. And the thing is, they're so unused to that, they usually end up pursuing me.
My first kiss was on a beach in Rio de Janeiro with a boy who'd just won an MTV award for "Best Kiss" (clearly none of those voters had actually kissed him). My second was on the Pont Neuf in Paris with a boy who'd just made the cover of Vanity Fair. And other than their being richer, more famous, and more stalked by paparazzi--our lives really aren't all that different.
Most of them are transients--passing through their own lives, just like I'm passing through mine. Moving from place to place, friendship to friendship, relationship to relationship--it's the only life that I know.
It's hard to form a lasting connection when your permanent address is an eight-inch mailbox in the UPS store.
Still, as I inch my way closer, I can't help the way my breath hitches, the way my insides thrum and swirl. And when he turns, flashing me that slow, languorous smile that's about to make him world famous, his eyes meeting mine when he says, "Hey, Daire--Happy Sweet Sixteen," I can't help but think of the millions of girls who would do just about anything to stand in my pointy blue babouches.
I return the smile, flick a little wave of my hand, then bury it in the side pocket of the olive-green army jacket I always wear. Pretending not to notice the way his gaze roams over me, straying from my waist-length brown hair peeking out from my scarf, to the tie-dyed tank top that clings under my jacket, to the skinny dark denim jeans, all the way down to the brand-new slippers I wear on my feet.
"Nice." He places his foot beside mine, providing me with a view of the his-and-hers version of the very same shoe. Laughing when he adds, "Maybe we can start a trend when we head back to the States. What do you think?"
We.
There is no we.
I know it. He knows it. And it bugs me that he tries to pretend otherwise.
The cameras stopped rolling hours ago, and yet here he is, still playing a role. Acting as though our brief, on-location hookup means something more.
Acting like we won't really end long before our passports are stamped RETURN.
And that's all it takes for those annoyingly soft girly feelings to vanish as quickly as a flame in the rain. Allowing the Daire I know, the Daire I've honed myself to be, to stand in her place.
"Doubtful." I smirk, kicking his shoe with mine. A little harder than necessary, but then again, he deserves it for thinking I'm lame enough to fall for his act. "So, what do you say--food? I'm dying for one of those beef brochettes, maybe even a sausage one too. Oh--and some fries would be good!"
I make for the food stalls, but Vane has another idea. His hand reaches for mine, fingers entwining until they're laced nice and tight. "In a minute," he says, pulling me so close my hip bumps against his. "I thought we might do something special--in honor of your birthday and all. What do you think about matching tattoos?"
I gape. Surely he's joking.
"Yeah, you know, mehndi. Nothing permanent. Still, I thought it could be kinda cool." He arcs his left brow in his trademark Vane Wick way, and I have to fight not to frown in return.
Nothing permanent. That's my theme song--my mission statement, if you will. Still, mehndi's not quite the same as a press-on. It has its own life span. One that will linger long after Vane's studio-financed, private jet lifts him high into the sky and right out of my life.
Though I don't mention any of that, instead I just say, "You know the director will kill you if you show up on set tomorrow covered in henna."
Vane shrugs. Shrugs in a way I've seen too many times, on too many young actors before him. He's in full-on star-power mode. Thinks he's indispensable. That he's the only seventeen-year-old guy with a hint of talent, golden skin, wavy blond hair, and piercing blue eyes that can light up a screen and make the girls (and most of their moms) swoon. It's a dangerous way to see yourself--especially when you make your living in Hollywood. It's the kind of thinking that leads straight to multiple rehab stints, trashy reality TV shows, desperate ghostwritten memoirs, and low-budget movies that go straight to DVD.
Still, when he tugs on my arm, it's not like I protest. I follow him to the old, black-clad woman parked on a woven beige mat with a pile of henna bags stacked in her lap.
Vane negotiates the price as I settle before her and offer my hands. Watching as she snips the corner from one of the bags and squeezes a series of squiggly lines over my flesh, not even thinking to consult me on what type of design I might want. But then, it's not like I had one in mind. I just lean against Vane who's kneeling beside me and let her do her thing.
"You must let the color to set for as long as it is possible. The darker the stain, the more that he loves you," she says, her English halting, broken, but the message is clear. Emphasized by the meaningful look she shoots Vane and me.
"Oh, we're not--" I start to say, We're not in love! But Vane's quick to stop me.
Slipping an arm around my shoulder, he presses his lips to my cheek, bestowing the old woman with the kind of smile that encourages her to smile back in a startling display of grayed and missing teeth. His actions stunning me stupid, leaving me to sit slack faced and dumb--with heated cheeks, muddied hands, and a rising young breakout star draped over my back.
Having never been in love, I admit that I'm definitely no expert on the subject. I have no idea what it feels like.
Though I'm pretty sure it doesn't feel like this.
I'm pretty dang positive Vane's just cast himself in yet another starring role--playing the part of my dashing young love interest, if only to appease this strange, Moroccan woman we'll never see again.
Still, Vane is an actor, and an audience is an audience--no matter how small.
Once my hands are covered in elaborate vines and scrolls, the old woman reminds me to allow the stain to take hold while she gets to work on Vane's feet. But the moment her attention turns, I use the edge of my nail to scrape away little bits. Unable to keep from smiling when I see the paste fall in a loose powdery spray that blends with the dirt.
It's silly, I know, but I can't risk there being even the slightest sliver of truth to her words. The movie will wrap soon, Vane and I will go separate ways, and falling in love is an option I just can't afford.
With our hands and feet fully tended, we make our way along the sidewalk grills, devouring five beef and sausage brochettes, a pile of fries, and two Fantas between us, before drifting among the square's nightly circus that includes snake charmers, acrobats, jugglers, fortune-tellers, healers, monkey trainers, and musicians. There's even a woman who's set up shop removing black rotted teeth from old men, which the two of us watch in horrified fascination.
Arms slung around each other's waists, hips rubbing together on every other step, Vane's breath tickles the curve of my ear when he slips a mini bottle of vodka from his pocket and offers me first swig.
I shake my head. Push it away. In any other place I might be game, but Marrakesh is different, and mysterious, and a little bit scary even. Not to mention I have no idea what the local laws are, though I'm guessing they're strict, and the last thing I need is to end up in a Moroccan jail for underage drinking.
It's the last thing he needs too, but it's not like he listens. Vane just smiles, unscrews the cap, and takes a few swallows before he tucks it back into his pocket and pulls me into a dark abandoned alleyway.
I stumble. Squint. Grasp at the wall as I fight to find my way. Steadied by the warmth of his hands at my waist, and the reassuring phrase that flits through my head--the one Jennika used to wean me from my night-light back when I was a kid:
You gotta adjust to the dark so the light can find you.
He pushes the scarf from my head, leaving it to fall around my neck, as his face veers so close all I can really make out are deep blue eyes, and the most perfectly parting lips that are quick to claim mine.
I merge into the kiss, tasting the lingering traces of vodka still coating his tongue, as my hands explore the muscled expanse of his chest, the taut curve of his shoulders, the clean edge of his jaw. My fingers twisting into his silky mane of hair, as his slip under my jacket--under my tank top--seeking, discovering--bunching the fabric higher and higher as he works his way up.
Our bodies melding, conforming into a tangle of grinding hips--a crush of lips. The kiss becoming so heated, so urgent, my breath grows ragged, too fast, as my body ignites like a freshly struck match.
So delirious with the feel of him--the warmth of him--the promise of him--I surrender to the nudge of his fingers working inside my bra--circling, pulling, as my own fingers move south. Wandering over a well-defined abdomen, then lower still, down to his waistband. Ready to venture to places I've yet to explore, when he breaks away, his voice no more than a whisper when he says, "C'mon, I know a place." The words thick, eyes bleary, as we fight to catch our breaths, fight to keep from pressing forward and claiming the kiss once again. "Seriously. I can't believe I didn't think of it before--it's gonna be epic--follow me!" He finds my hand, pulls me out of the dark and back into the bright, lively square.
At first I go willingly, prepared to follow him anywhere. Though it's not long before I'm seduced by the sound of that incessant pulsing rhythm--the trance-inducing lure of the gnaoua drum.
"Daire--c'mon, it's this way. What gives?" He frowns, brows slanted in confusion when I drop his hand and keep going, not bothering to check if he follows--no longer caring about anything other than locating the source of that beat.
I squeeze through the tightly packed crowd until I'm standing before it--my head filled with the hypnotic rhythm of that red leather drum, my eyes swimming with the flash of crimson silk, gold coins, and a carefully veiled face revealing nothing more than a pair of intense, dark, kohl-rimmed eyes.
"It's a dude--a trannie!" Vane shoves in beside me, mesmerized by the sight of the caftan-clad male with his hands thrust high, golden cymbals clinking, body wildly writhing.
But that's all that Vane sees.
He doesn't see what I see.
Doesn't see the way everything stops.
Doesn't see the way the atmosphere changes--growing shimmery, hazy, like peering through carnival glass.
Doesn't see the way the glowing ones appear--hovering along the perimeter.
Doesn't see the way they beckon to me--beg me to join them.
Only I can see that.
Even after repeatedly blinking, trying to return the scene to normal, it's no use. Not only are they still there, but now they've brought friends.
Crows.
Thousands and thousands of crows that fill up the square.
Landing on the drummer, the transvestite belly dancer--soaring and swooping and settling wherever they please--turning the once-vibrant square into a field of dark beady eyes that relentlessly watch me.
The glowing people creep forward--arms outstretched, fingers grasping--stomping the crows to a mess of black, bloodied bits.
And there's nothing I can do to stop their progression--nothing I can do to convince time to march forward again.
So I do the only thing that I can--I run.
Bolting through the crowd, pushing, screaming, shoving, shouting for everyone to get out of my way. Vaguely aware of Vane calling after me--his fingers grasping, pulling me close to his chest, urging me to stop, to turn, to not be afraid.
My body sags in relief as I lift my face to meet his. Wondering how I'll ever explain my sudden bout of craziness now that everything's returned to normal again, only to gaze past his shoulder and find the crows replaced with something much worse--thousands of bloodied, severed heads hanging on spikes that fill up the square.
Their gruesome mouths yawning into a terrible chorus that calls out my name--urging me to listen--to heed their warning--before it's too late.
One voice in particular rising above all the rest, its grisly battered face bearing an eerie resemblance to one in a crumpled old photo I know all too well.

FATED. Copyright 2012 by Alyson Noel. Macmillan

Book Review+ Chapter 1: Forgiven by Jana Oliver

Forgiven by Jana Oliver

• Reading level: Ages 12 and up
• Paperback: 368 pages
• Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin; Original edition (March 27, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0312614802
• ISBN-13: 978-0312614805

Jana Oliver's third spellbinding Demon Trappers novel - following The Demon Trapper's Daughter and Soul Thief - brings all new thrills, as Riley Blackthorne takes on demons, love... and the future of the human race.

The days are growing darker for 17-year-old demon trapper Riley Blackthorne. With her father’s reanimated body back safely, Beck barely speaking to her because of a certain hunky Fallen angel, and a freshly-made deal with Lucifer, she has enough on her hands to last a normal teenage lifetime. Though she bargained with Heaven to save his life, her ex-boyfriend Simon has told the Vatican’s Demon Hunters that she’s working with Hell. So now she’s in hiding, at the top of everyone’s most-wanted list.

But it’s becoming clear that this is bigger than Riley, and rapidly getting out of control:  something sinister is happening in Atlanta… or someone. The demons are working together for the first time ever and refusing to die, putting civilians in harm’s way. Riley thinks she might know who’s behind it all, but who’s going to believe her? Caught between her bargain with Heaven and her promise to Lucifer, Riley fears the final war is coming – and it may be closer than anyone thinks…

Okay, so first I’d like you to know that this was the first book I read from the author---the first book I read from the series. So I don’t have anything to compare to especially with the previous books in the series. Though personally, I asked to review this book is because the many positive reviews I heard from the first two- The Demon Trapper’s Daughter and Soul Thief.

Surprisingly enough, even with the vast new and old characters- the demons, the trappers, fallen, summoners, I wasn’t entirely lost. Once I tuned in with Riley, everything comes vivid in her POV. I understand the situation she’s in, the relationships and misunderstandings she had with the other characters and even her choice to uncover the mysteries and protect humanity. The storyline was easy to follow but the twists and turns are not easily figured out.

I loved Jana Oliver’s writing style, its fresh and unique. The readers were always up for action and at the same time, subplots were given emphasis and the tension between the protagonists, the mysteries, the conflicts were all there. She wrote the book with passion and deep detail that it’s easy to imagine the world she made, the demons, and the action-packed scenarios happening.

I also loved Riley, she’s a strong character that doesn’t depend on her leading man or anyone, she actually thinks about resolutions and the things to do in order to make things right especially the consequences of her past actions. Her behavior was measured and it’s less on drama, she was too mature for a seventeen-year-old, which isn’t bad.

Beck…at first, I thought Beck’s a girl..:D. He was hot, gorgeous, yes, but it was really unfair of him to get really mad with Riley, just because she made the mistake of sleeping with another man, which, take note, Beck had been with many girls before. I would have loved to see more of them- Beck and Riley that is.

Meanwhile Justine, I hate her. Though I know, she played an important role in the story. Just don’t want to talk about her. By the way, another queer about this book, is that the feminine names are mostly used by boys and the masculine ones, Riley, Justine are for girls.

The ending? I would have like to see the epic battle to be really epic. I was expecting far something greater and yet the resolution was too perfect for me. With all the non-stop action, the ending seemed a little too easy maybe. Meanwhile Riley’s dad is a character I would never forget, her love for Riley that even in death, he would still do everything to keep her safe.

I laughed, I cried, got annoyed, mad, I felt everything while reading this book. I can’t wait to read the last book in the series and see how the story would end and especially to have more of Riley and Beck.

Forgiven is an action-packed, enthralling and riveting tale of Demon Trappers and the world in chaos of the near Armageddon set in the future but not too futuristic. With heart-pounding, jaw-dropping scenarios, Forgiven would leave you wanting for more. Highly Recommended!..:)


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ONE


2018
Atlanta, Georgia

Riley Blackthorne’s tears were no more. She’d cried herself dry, yet she still lingered in the arms of a dead man. If given the chance, she would remain in her father’s arms for the rest of her life.
When she looked up, sad brown eyes gazed back. Master Trapper Paul Blackthorne was a reanimated corpse now, summoned from his grave by none other than the Prince of Hell. Like the day he’d been buried, he wore his best suit and favorite red tie, the one she’d given him as a Christmas present.
On the run from the Vatican’s team of Demon Hunters, Riley had taken refuge in the home of Mortimer Alexander, a summoner of the dead. She had not expected to find her father waiting for her. Now, as they huddled together, she laid her head on his chest, seeking solace in his embrace.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
“I’ve missed you too, Pumpkin.”
This isn’t right. We’re just borrowing time.
Her dad should be in his grave. Then he would never know that Riley wasn’t his innocent little girl any longer, that she’d given up her virginity the night before.
I was a fool. Why did I let Ori do that?
She’d spent that night in the arms of someone who had said he would protect her. Who had claimed she was special and that he cherished her because she reminded him of Heaven. Morning brought the bitter truth—Ori’s protection came with a big price tag. Her lover, the Fallen angel, would watch over her only if she consigned her soul to Hell. Then Lucifer, the Prince, had arrived and turned Ori into a statue for failing to follow his orders.
Riley wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead. Her body felt like a war zone, some unknown fire burning inside her now.
What if I’m pregnant? She shuddered at the thought. Ori had said that wasn’t possible but that could have been a clever lie. Is that why the Demon Hunters wanted her? What would the child of a Fallen and a mortal be like? Normal? Evil? Somewhere in between?
What would the Church do to me and the baby?
When she shivered, her father broke the embrace.
“Come with me,” he said, taking her hand and slowly rising to his feet. “I need to feel the sunlight again.” He stopped in the kitchen and poured her a tall glass of apple juice, then they entered a walled garden, where cardinals and raucous blue jays flitted around a well-stocked bird feeder. Water cascaded from the fingers of a nude stone nymph perched in the center of a broad fountain. They settled on a stone bench still covered with frost, and Riley’s behind immediately reacted to the cold. Her father didn’t seem to notice it.
He handed her the juice. “Drink. You look awful.”
It wasn’t a good sign when a dead guy said you looked bad.
Riley took a long sip. It was cold and it tasted good. Clutching the glass in her hands, she gave in to the questions that careened around inside her.
“What’s it like to be … dead?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Very peculiar.”
“You can’t tell me, can you?”
“No. Not like I thought,” he murmured.
The next question was harder. “Did you see Mom?”
He shook his head as his eyes clouded with sadness. “No.”
Riley’s heart fractured into smaller pieces. “Lucifer told me what you did. How you gave up your soul for me.”
Her dad’s eyes widened. “You spoke with the Prince?”
“He was in the graveyard this morning after…” Riley paused, biting down on her lip. No, can’t go there. Maybe someday she’d have the courage to admit what she’d done, but not now. “Lucifer said you pledged your soul to him so that Archfiend wouldn’t kill you. So you could take care of me.”
Her dad issued a resigned nod. “Your mother understood why I did it.”
“Mom knew?” she blurted. “Why didn’t you guys tell me?”
“You were too young.”
“That’s crap, and you know it,” she retorted. “I was old enough. What else haven’t you told me, Dad? What else is going to fall on my head when I’m not looking?”
He didn’t reply, his eyes not meeting hers. Which meant there was more.
It was so unfair. Her father was supposed to remain alive until she had become a master trapper.
“Lucifer didn’t keep his bargain,” she complained. “Your soul should be yours.”
“He said he wouldn’t release it, that I owed him a debt, but he wouldn’t say what.”
“So you’re stuck in Hell until he decides you’re not?”
Her father winced. “Don’t be angry. I did what was best. My soul isn’t important.”
He’s wrong. It was so important that Lucifer wasn’t willing to give it up even when her dad had died before his time.
“Does Mort know who summoned you?” There was a faint nod. “And he’s okay with that?” she asked, surprised.
“He was shocked, but he hasn’t thrown me to the wolves yet.”
“What about Beck?”
Her father shook his head. “I don’t look forward to the day he learns the truth. It’s going to tear him apart.”
Denver Beck, her dad’s trapping partner, had considered Paul Blackthorne a mentor. To learn he was aligned with Hell would be as devastating as when Beck had found out she’d slept with a Fallen.
Her father touched her arm. “I’ll see if our host has someplace for you to sleep. You need rest.”
Riley blinked to hold back the tears. “In a little bit,” she said, not wanting to be separated from him. Closing her eyes, she leaned against him, inhaling the confusing scents of oranges and cedar chips that seemed to be her father now. Desperate to find some good in all this disaster, she took his hand and squeezed it, remembering what it had been like before he died. When his hands were warm and his heart beating. When there had been all the time in the world.
*   *   *
The spare bedroom in Mort’s house was bright, decorated with cream walls and peach accents. It looked like a girl’s room, which made Riley wonder if he had a sister or a niece. She yawned, then pulled the curtains closed to reduce the light. As she pulled off her shirt, her long brown hair fell over her face. With it came the unmistakable scent of crisp night air. Ori’s scent.
“Damn you,” she swore, flinging her clothes in all directions, as if that might reverse the dark echoes of the angel’s touch. She fled into the shower stall, adjusting the temperature as cold as she could stand to combat the inferno inside her veins. As the water cascaded, she scrubbed her skin until it turned red. The memories refused to be washed away.
When Riley finally climbed into the bed, she curled into a fetal position, sleep tugging at her. She wasn’t the first to give up her virginity to a guy who said he’d always care for her. Riley had heard other girls admit the same mistake during whispered confessions in school restrooms. From this point on, she would always divide her life into Before and After the Angel. Statue or not, Ori would be inside her heart, affecting every chance at love for the rest of her days.
Just like Beck.
*   *   *
To Denver Beck, there were many ways to welcome a new day—spread-eagled on his own lawn, wrists secured by flex-cuffs wasn’t the best of them.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” he bellowed into the dirt.
The response was the sound of combat boots tromping around inside his house as their owners’ voices called out to each other in Italian. When there was a sharp shatter of glass, he swore. Beck closed his eyes to keep the dirt out of them and forced himself to relax. If he fought back, the Demon Hunter behind him might feel the need to make this his last day on earth.
I’ll be damned if I die like this.
His only choice was to remain here until the Vatican’s elite team finished its search. Which, from all the commotion, involved tearing his house apart.
When he heard a name in the midst of the voices flowing around him, he sighed into the dirt. They were searching for Riley Blackthorne, the seventeen-year-old daughter of Beck’s dead trapper buddy, Paul.
The day had sucked even before the paramilitary-style raid, one Beck was sure his neighbors were enjoying with their morning coffee. Right after dawn, Riley had arrived on his doorstep, weeping and shell-shocked. Through tears and sobs, she’d admitted her blackest sin: She’d spent the night with one of Lucifer’s own.
Beck had known this Ori guy was bad news from the first moment he’d seen him with Riley, but he’d never expected the bastard to be a Fallen angel.
Why him? Even now, he could see her huddled on the couch, weeping, as he’d shouted that very question at her. After all Beck had done for her, she’d taken up with that thing.
When he’d spat insults at Paul’s daughter, she’d responded in kind. Fearing how bad it might get between them, Beck had bolted from the house. When he’d returned a short time later he’d found his front door wide open and the Vatican’s team on the prowl.
More rapid-fire conversation bounced around him: Beck didn’t need to speak the language to hear the frustration. Since Riley wasn’t lying in the dirt beside him, the raid made the hunters look bad. They would need a scapegoat, and Beck would do just fine. A new voice cut in—one he recognized—it was the hunters’ captain. Apparently he’d finally decided to join the party.
Without warning, Beck was hauled roughly to his knees. Once he was up, he tried to wipe his mouth on a shoulder; it proved impossible with the flex-cuffs in place. The Demon Hunter with the rifle circled around to the side, the weapon pointed at Beck’s chest.
The captain of the unit squatted in front of him, his dark eyes flinty. Elias Salvatore was thirty-two, a decade older than Beck. He had a Mediterranean complexion, black hair, and a goatee, coupled with an athletic build. His navy turtleneck sported epaulettes and the Demon Hunters’ emblem—St. George slaying the dragon. Crisply pleated trousers were tucked neatly into polished combat boots.
“Mr. Beck,” he said evenly.
“Captain Salvatore. What the hell is goin’ on?”
“We were informed that Riley Blackthorne was here.”
Who told ya that?
“She was here a while ago. Must have left.”
The man’s eyes narrowed farther. “Where is she?”
“No idea.” It was a safe bet one of the neighbors had heard them shouting at each other, so he went with the truth in case the hunters bothered to check. “We had words.”
“About what?”
“That’s none of yer business,” Beck said. A second later, he was facedown in the dirt, a heavy boot pressing on his back.
The captain issued a crisp command and Beck was hauled up again. He gave a look over his shoulder and found that the boot belonged to Lieutenant Amundson, the captain’s second-in-command. He was a tall man, Nordic, and not known for his manners.
Beck spat dirt. “Get these damned cuffs off me.”
Salvatore gave a gesture. There was the snick of a knife, a stinging pain, then the cuffs fell away. Amundson had made sure to cut Beck’s palm in the process.
Beck wiped his hands on his jeans, then inspected the wound.
The captain delivered a penetrating look over the prisoner’s shoulder. He gestured for the lieutenant to move away. “I apologize.”
Beck clamped down on his fury. Throwing punches wouldn’t be a smart move at the moment.
Did the hunters know about Riley and the Fallen? They have to. Why else would they be lookin’ for her? Still, he didn’t dare make assumptions.
“What’s this all about?” Beck asked.
The captain rose. “Let’s go inside.”
Beck stood, dusted off his jeans, and retrieved his trapping bag from where it lay near the driveway. He felt the bottom of the canvas and was relieved to find it wasn’t wet, which meant none of the glass spheres inside had shattered when he’d been tackled by the hunters. He’d need those special magical globes to trap Hellspawn.
After ensuring they were alone, Salvatore closed the front door behind them. Beck had expected the place to have been turned inside out, but that wasn’t the case. The only damage appeared to be a glass that had been knocked off the counter. He ignored the mess on the floor and dropped onto the couch in the same place that Riley had occupied when she’d delivered her devastating news.
Where are ya girl? If she ran to her apartment, they’d find her there. If she was smart, she’d go to Angus Stewart, one of the two master trappers in the city. Stewart would watch over her.
The captain sat in a chair opposite him. He moved as if he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days. “We must find Riley Blackthorne as quickly as possible.”
“Why?”
“There’s a Fallen angel in Atlanta. His name is Ori. We believe he has targeted Paul Blackthorne’s daughter.”
Beck made sure he appeared shocked. It wasn’t hard. He still couldn’t believe that Riley had been with one of Lucifer’s allies.
“Why would one of those want her?”
“He is known for his seductions.”
Beck’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t reply.
“There is a strange pattern of events in this city, and that usually means there’s an epicenter, a focus to that activity.”
“If yer sayin’ that Riley’s the reason for all this—”
“What other conclusion can we draw?” Salvatore retorted. “Every demonic event in this city has centered on her: A Grade Five demon tried to kill her. The same fiend pressed its attack during the trappers’ meeting at the Tabernacle, and that ambush alone cost you a third of your Demon Trappers Guild.”
“I know the numbers, hunter,” Beck replied sullenly.
“If she is the nexus of this activity, we have to locate her and find a way to break that connection with Hell before more people die.”
Beck didn’t want to think about what “break that connection” meant. “Why a commando raid on my house? Ya could have knocked on the door like anyone else.”
“You weren’t home,” the captain observed. “Do you usually leave your house unlocked?”
Beck hesitated. “No. Why?”
“Both the front and back doors weren’t bolted, and your alarm wasn’t engaged. The back door was partially ajar, indicating a hasty departure, perhaps?” The captain leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Did you call Riley and warn her that we were coming?”
By now they’d have gone through his phone and know he’d called Riley after they’d quarreled, so he opted for the truth. “I didn’t know ya were comin’ here.”
“Yet you spoke to her.”
“Yeah. We argued about this Ori guy. He’d told her he was a freelance demon hunter, and I told her to stay away from. She wasn’t listenin’, so we had words. I called her to…” Why had he called her? Certainly not apologize, that was for sure.
“Where is she now?”
Beck shook his head. “I don’t know. Now I’m done talkin’ to ya unless the Guild’s lawyer is watchin’ my back.”
The captain sighed. “Look, I respect your loyalty to the girl’s father. Paul Blackthorne trained you, brought you up through the Guild. You were there when he died at the hands of the same demon that tried to kill his daughter. I know what you’re feeling, but we need your help.”
“Bite me.”
Salvatore scowled. “So be it.” He triggered a radio on his shoulder, and Italian filled the air. He’d barely finished giving the order when two hunters were through the front door.
The captain rose from, his face set. “Denver Beck, as representative of the Holy See, I arrest you for obstructing justice, additional charges to be filed at a later time. You are duly warned that if you are found to be aiding Hell in any manner, the ultimate penalty is death.”
“Go figure,” Beck muttered.


Copyright © 2012 by Jana Oliver

Fated (Soul Seekers, #1) by Alyson Noël Promotion!

• Reading level: Ages 12 and up
• Hardcover: 368 pages
• Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin (May 22, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0312664850
• ISBN-13: 978-0312664855

The first book in a magnificent new series about a girl who can navigate between the worlds of the living and the dead by #1 New York Times bestselling author Alyson Noël.

Lately strange things have been happening to Daire Santos. Animals follow her, crows mock her, and glowing people appear out of nowhere. Worried that Daire is having a nervous breakdown, her mother packs her off to stay in the dusty plains of Enchantment, New Mexico with a grandmother she’s never met.

There she crosses paths with Dace, a gorgeous guy with unearthly blue eyes who she’s encountered before...but only in her dreams. And she’ll get to know her grandmother—a woman who recognizes Daire’s bizarre episodes for what they are. A call to her true destiny as a Soul Seeker, one who can navigate between the worlds of the living and the dead. Her grandmother immediately begins teaching her to harness her powers—but it’s an art that must be mastered quickly. Because Dace’s brother is an evil shape-shifter who’s out to steal her powers. Now Daire must embrace her fate as a Soul Seeker and find out if Dace is one guy she’s meant to be with...or if he’s allied with the enemy she’s destined to destroy.

 ******************************************************************************

Hey, everyone!  I just wanted to let you know about a new and exciting promotion from St. Martin's Press, publisher of the bestselling Immortals series and upcoming Soul Seekers series by Alyson Noël.  When fans pre-order Fated (Soul Seekers, #1) in any format (print, e-book or audiobook) and submit their receipt, they will receive a pair of Soul Seeker inspired earrings–while supplies last! 

St. Martin's Press will be mailing out the earrings approximately 4-6 weeks after Fated goes on-sale (5/22).

If you want to read more about Fated, you can read an excerpt and a special bonus scene on the St. Martin's Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/soulseekersseries.

For more information and a complete set of rules, please visit http://stmartins.com/fatedpreorder.

Here's how the earrings look.>:D Pretty!

Tempest

Tempest by Julie Cross

• Reading level: Ages 14 and up
• Hardcover: 352 pages
• Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin; Book Club (BCE/BOMC) edition (January 17, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0312568894
• ISBN-13: 978-0312568894

The year is 2009.  Nineteen-year-old Jackson Meyer is a normal guy… he’s in college, has a girlfriend… and he can travel back through time. But it’s not like the movies – nothing changes in the present after his jumps, there’s no space-time continuum issues or broken flux capacitors – it’s just harmless fun.

That is… until the day strangers burst in on Jackson and his girlfriend, Holly, and during a struggle with Jackson, Holly is fatally shot. In his panic, Jackson jumps back two years to 2007, but this is not like his previous time jumps. Now he’s stuck in 2007 and can’t get back to the future.

Desperate to somehow return to 2009 to save Holly but unable to return to his rightful year, Jackson settles into 2007 and learns what he can about his abilities.

But it’s not long before the people who shot Holly in 2009 come looking for Jackson in the past, and these “Enemies of Time” will stop at nothing to recruit this powerful young time-traveler.  Recruit… or kill him.

Piecing together the clues about his father, the Enemies of Time, and himself, Jackson must decide how far he’s willing to go to save Holly… and possibly the entire world.

I’ve always been a paranormal romance fan, but I think with Tempest, I might be changing gears into sci-fi..:D

Ms. Cross did a wonderful job of weaving a time-travel concept which is both engaging and thrilling, living in the present, while discovering the past to save the future, it’s an awesome experience, jumping from time to time, a well-written book…straight to the point, and I didn’t lost myself nor confused the dates..:D ..

A real-page turner, I finished this one, just in one sitting.:D I loved reading Jackson’s journals about his adventure, everytime it turns up, I read it hungrily, but it only appeared a few in the book… it is especially new for me since the point of view is written in a male’s perspective, but I enjoyed it thoroughly, what’s going on in Jackson’s head is real and

The characters too, have their own personality, which makes Tempest more endearing, each of them is unique, I love Jackson, the nerd Adam, Jackson’s dad, Emily (I have my theory who she really is lol), Holly ,everyone, even Courtney. It seems I too, don’t really know who is the good guys, and which one to avoid…

What I loved about this book is the ideas/plot isn’t that overwhelming to the readers, some sci-fi books would make my mind ache but with Tempest, I easily grasped the storyline and the characters, I even formulate my own theories with them. A lot of things are going on in the book, but I really loved each of it, I was not bored even in a second, as the book unwinds, new mysteries unfold, new questions arise, which makes the readers, wish for more…

if you’re not into sci-fi, don’t worry, it’s not the only thing that defines Tempest, this is a fast-paced, action-oriented, young adult (new adult) novel that would easily grip you from the very first page…pack with romance, time-travel, mystery, action and suspense..what more can I ask for? The second book!


A cliff-hanger, I can’t wait for the sequel, which sadly will be released on 2013… almost a year of waiting (sigh)





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