Synopsis:After uniting the shifters and calling in reinforcements, Chase has to face his toughest challenge yet: learning to control his emotions. But as tensions rise and his powers grow, controlling his emotions becomes the least of his problems.
Terrorized by a multi-shifter who is hell-bent on turning him, Chase questions just how far he’s willing to go to stop his father. Meanwhile, Tiki’s virtuous nature has placed him in the middle of Vincent’s past, leaving Chase to oppose a senate of vampires and defend a demon he hates.
Trying to balance his friends, his enemies, and his inner demons, Chase is left searching for answers about the Mark, his destiny, and where he can find the next soul piece. Stopping Riley is his top priority, but as more obstacles arise, he finds himself doubting all the decisions he’s made - especially regarding Rayna.
One thing is for certain: Chase has finally realized that he doesn’t know anything. The light doesn’t always quell the darkness, the monsters don’t always stay in the shadows, and the past doesn’t always stay in the past - sometimes, the demons inside are the hardest to fight.
Check out the other books in the series:
M.R. Merrick is a Canadian writer, and author of Exiled, the first installment in The Protector Series. Having never traveled, he adventures to far off lands through his imagination and in between cups of coffee. As a music lover and proud breakfast enthusiast, he's usually found at the computer, between a pair of headphones and in front of a large bowl of cereal.
The day Preston Drake figured out that wealthy women paid well for a set of tight abs and a pretty face his life turned around.
The run down rat-infested trailer he had shared with his alcoholic mother and three younger siblings was now only a place he visited to pay the bills and stock the pantry with food.
He no longer worried about his family starving or living without electricity. The money he made entertaining rich older women more than covered his family’s needs and his own. He had it all figured out. Except…
There was this girl.
She was as innocent as he was tainted.
Amanda Hardy wished her knees didn’t get weak when Preston walked into a room. She hated the fact her heart raced when he flashed his smile in her direction. He had a different girl in his bed every night. He was the kind of boy a smart girl ran from. So, why was she coming up with ways to get close to him? Even when it was obvious he wanted to keep her at a distance.
Maybe her heart knew something the world didn’t. Maybe Preston Drake was more than just a pretty face.
Abbi Glines can be found hanging out with rockstars, taking out her yacht on weekends for a party cruise, sky diving, or surfing in Maui. Okay maybe she needs to keep her imagination focused on her writing only. In the real world, Abbi can be found hauling kids (several who seem to show up that don’t belong to her) to all their social events, hiding under the covers with her MacBook in hopes her husband won’t catch her watching Buffy on Netflix again, and sneaking off to Barnes and Noble to spend hours lost in the yummy goodness of books. Her debut novel, BREATHE, can be found in digital format at Barnes and Noble and Amazon. Existence, a YA paranormal, was released December 13, 2011 by Wild Child Publishing. She also released a YA contemporary romance, The Vincent Boys this Fall. She just released her first New Adult contemporary, Because of Low. She is currently editing the second book in the Existence Trilogy, Predestined. If you want to find her then check Twitter first because she has a severe addiction to tweeting @abbiglines. She also blogs regularly but rarely about anything life changing. She also really enjoys talking about herself in third person.
Synopsis:I have spent every summer since I was ten years old with my father in London. Every summer, since I was ten years old, has been uneventful and boring. Until this year. And this year, after a freak volcanic eruption strands me far from home, I have learned these things: 1. I can make do with one outfit for three days before I buy new clothes. 2. If I hear the phrase, “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” even one more time, I might become a homicidal maniac. 3. I am horribly and embarrassingly allergic to jellyfish. 4. I am in love with Dante Giliberti, who just happens to be the beautiful, sophisticated son of the Prime Minister of a Mediterranean paradise. 5. See number four above. Because it brings with it a whole slew of problems and I’ve learned something from every one of them. Let’s start with the fact that Dante’s world is five light-years away from mine. He goes to black-tie functions and knows the Prime Minister of England on a first name basis. I was born and raised on a farm in Kansas and wear cut-off jeans paired with cowboy boots. See the difference? But hearts don’t care about differences. Hearts want what they want. And mine just wants to be Dante’s girl. My heart just might be crazy.
“Excuse me, Reece?”
Before I even open my eyes, I know the sexy accent is coming from Apollo. I can feel his epic hotness emanating through my eyelids. I only hope that I haven’t been drooling in my sleep.
“Yes?” I ask as nonchalantly as I can while my eyes pop open. I try to discreetly smooth my hair down. In my head, I envision myself as Chewbacca from Star Wars and wince.
Dante hands me my phone, which must’ve fallen from my lap as I napped.
“Are you on the flight to London?” he grins. “They’re boarding priority travelers now. I just thought you should know.”
Yikes. I had slept for three hours? In a noisy airport? I must have been super tired.
“Thank you,” I reply quickly, gathering my things in a rush. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m not a priority traveler, but I probably would have slept through general boarding. Thank you for waking me.”
I glance at him as I stand up and can’t help but do a double take. It isn’t easy to get used to his particular brand of sexy. He is laid-back, handsome and casual, which is a formula for utter female devastation. The impossible thing is that he doesn’t seem to realize it. He’s effortlessly sophisticated and chic.
“Well, you’re awake now and that’s the important thing. Have a nice trip, Reece,” Dante grins once more before he joins a group of men who are apparently waiting for him. I was wrong, I guess. He isn’t alone after all. The men close around him in a tight circle and they board the plane with the other passengers with first class tickets.
He’s on my flight.
I gulp and find a place in line with the other travelers flying coach.
As the richer, better-dressed passengers file past us, I feel a little like a bumpkin in rumpled clothing. Even though I travel to London every summer to visit my dad, I live in rural America the rest of the year. And all of a sudden, I feel like I am wearing a blinking neon sign proclaiming that very fact. The clothing that had seemed sophisticated to travel in this morning now seems like it was hand-made in someone’s backwoods shed.
And it so makes sense that Apollo is in first class. He smells like a beautiful sunrise in a wooded meadow. Oh, my gosh. What is wrong with me? Where did that come from? I am totally being as corny as an erectile dysfunction commercial.
I roll my eyes at my own absurdity and hand my ticket to the heavily made-up flight attendant who is waiting to take it. She glances at it and then at me before she stamps my passport and hands it back.
“Have a nice flight, Miss Ellis,” she tells me before turning her attention to the passenger behind me.
I like flying almost as much as I like having dental work. Or having my fingernails pulled out one by one. Or having paper cuts sliced onto my legs and then lemon juice poured onto them. Just about that much.
Filing down the narrow aisle through first class, I can’t help but search out Apollo. It doesn’t take long to find him. He is situated by the window in a wide, leather first-class seat. He’s already covered in a warm blanket and looks like he is settling in for the hour long flight. As I move closer to him, his eyes pop open and meet mine, the electric blue of his almost causing me to gasp aloud.
He smiles slightly as I pass and his gaze doesn’t waver from mine.
I find myself wishing that I could sit next to him. Not only because of the lavish first class seats, although those would be nice too.
But rather, there is something in the air between Dante and me. I can feel it, an instant connection. I can practically reach out and touch it. I’ve never experienced chemistry like this in my life. It’s the kind that seems corny when you read about it in books, but in real life, it is anything but. It is simply electrifying. Ripping my eyes from his, I continue down the aisle and find my seat.
Taking a deep breath, I stash my carry-on in the overhead bin and slump into the window seat, trying not to hyperventilate as my fear of flying suddenly overwhelms me while the cramped airplane closes in around me.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
I watch the flight crew below me loading the bags into the belly of the plane. What if they dislodge the landing gear while they are messing around down there? What if they don’t check the systems well enough and we die in a fiery crash? What if the metal holding the plane together rips off in the air and peels away like tissue paper?
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
I might die.
I listen impatiently as the flight attendants give their safety spiel and motion toward the exits like they are NFL referees with dumb tiny scarves around their necks. I just need for them to get on with it. Just let us taxi out and take-off and then I will be perfectly fine once we are in the air. My hands get clammy and my ears start to roar. Why am I such a freak?
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
You freaking flight attendants.
I’m just getting ready to shove my earbuds back in to distract myself when Dante appears next to me like a savior or an angel or something of equal beauty and importance.
“Is this seat taken?” he smiles and I notice a dimple in his right cheek that I hadn’t noticed before. How had I missed a dimple?
“Um, not that I know of,” I answer weakly, trying not to die from heart palpations. “But the seat belt sign is on. You’re not supposed to be out of your seat.”
Fabulous. Now I sound like a hall monitor with a heart problem.
Dante shrugs without seeming worried.
“I think it will be okay,” he answers. “We’re not even on the runway yet.”
“Can I sit here? I’m bored up front.”
I nod, my palms instantly clammier. “I hope you brought your blanket. You won’t get much back here except for a bag of peanuts.”
And now I sound like a cheap hall monitor with a heart problem. I’m presenting myself better and better by the moment.
Dante smiles yet again and sits next to me. He brings his charming accent with him and the scent of his amazing cologne. I take a deep breath. He smells far better than the stale airplane air. Far better. I fight the urge to jump into his lap and inhale his neck, a maneuver that just might make me appear slightly insane.
“You look pretty pale,” he observes as he buckles up. “Are you afraid to fly?”
“Is it that obvious?” I ask quietly. “As much as I’ve flown in my lifetime, I should be used to it. But I’m afraid that’s never going to happen. Once I’m in the air for awhile, I’ll be fine, but until then… well, I’m terrified. I admit it.”
“Don’t worry,” Dante tells me quietly, his voice calm and reassuring. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re more likely to get into a--”
“Car crash rather than die in a plane crash,” I interrupt. “Yes, I know. I’ve heard. Where are you from?” I ask curiously, half out of genuine curiosity and half out of the need to distract myself. “You have the most interesting accent.”
He smiles, his teeth brilliantly white. I decide on the spot that I could watch him smile all day long.
“Caberra,” he answers, reminding me that I had asked a question. “It’s an island near Greece. And you?”
“Like you don’t know that I’m American,” I chuckle. “I know it’s written all over me. I’m sure you’re a fan, right?”
“Of Americans?” he raises a golden eyebrow. “Of course. I love them. I have no reason not to. They bring a lot of tourist dollars to Caberra.”
“Well, we are a land of excess,” I admit. “But that’s usually what foreigners seem to hate about us.”
Dante stares at me for a moment and then smiles. “Well, I can’t speak for all foreigners, but I don’t hate Americans. And you’re not in America right now, are you?”
I shake my head. “No, I am most certainly not.”
“Well, then. You’re the foreigner now.” He grins and I can’t help but smile back. He has a point.
The pilot gets on the intercom and his nasally voice drones on and on, but I am able to tune it out as I engage in conversation with a boy who is surely a direct descendent of the gods. There is no other plausible explanation for his good looks or charm. I barely even hear the words that come out of Dante’s mouth, because I am so mesmerized by the shape of his lips as he moves them. Pathetic, I know, but true.
One thing about me: I don’t lie to myself. I might stretch the truth for my parents from time to time when necessary, but never to myself. And I’m pathetically fascinated by this boy.
Finally, the aircraft shudders a bit and noses forward and I startle, gripping the arms of my seat. My fingers turn white and I am certain that I am leaving permanent indentions in the cracked vinyl arm-rests.
“Don’t worry,” Dante says quietly, unpeeling one of my hands and grasping it within his own. “It will be fine.”
The feel of his hand distracts me. Strong and warm, it cups my own carefully, like he is holding something very fragile. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling. I only have a couple of minutes to soak it in, however.
As the plane moves down the runway in preparation for take-off, something happens. Something isn’t right.
Our plane rocks a little, then quivers, like it is being moved by a strong gust of wind. I feel it a brief moment before Dante tightens his grip on my hand, a split second before light explodes from outside of my eyelids. I open them to discover fire tearing down the runway past my window. Before I can react or even scream, all hell breaks loose.
Courtney Cole is a novelist who would eat mythology for breakfast if she could.
She has a degree in Business, but has since discovered that corporate America is not nearly as fun to live in as fictional worlds.
Every Last Kiss is her debut novel and she followed it with the rest of The Bloodstone Saga (Every Last Kiss, Fated, With My Last Breath and My Tattered Bonds).
Courtney lives in quiet suburbia, close to Lake Michigan, with her real-life Prince Charming, her ornery kids (there is a small chance that they get their orneriness from their mother) and a small domestic zoo.
Stacking The Shelves is all about sharing the books you are adding to your shelves, may it be physical or virtual. This means you can include books you buy in physical store or online, books you borrow from friends or the library, review books, gifts and of course ebooks! Visit Tynga's Reviews to know more about this weekly meme.
Thank you so much to A.L. Davroe, Enna of Squeaky Books , Teri Terry, Orchard Books, Heather Anastasiu and Cassay of Vamps, Weres and Cassay! What books did you get this week? Please feel free to leave a link of your post in the comments.
Hello everyone! Today I'm proud to share to you one of the beautiful contemporary books I've read this year. It is a book from the debut author Colleen Clayton (who loves the words Violet and Oceania) and who does watch a large amount of televisions (you're not alone ;p). Below is my review of the book, which was given by lovely Karen <3 in exchange for an honest review and some of the links where you can find Ms. Clayton. Enjoy and don't forget to add it to your to-read list! :D
Goodreads Summary:How can you talk about something you can’t remember?
Before the ski trip, sixteen-year-old Cassidy “Sid” Murphy was a cheerleader (at the bottom of the pyramid, but still...), a straight-A student, and a member of a solid trio of best friends. When she ends up on a ski lift next to handsome local college boy, Dax Windsor, she’s thrilled; but Dax takes everything from Sid—including a lock of her perfect red curls—and she can’t remember any of it.
Back home and unable to relate to her old friends, Sid drops her college prep classes and takes up residence in the A/V room with only Corey “The Living Stoner” Livingston for company. But as she gets to know Corey (slacker, baker, total dreamboat), Sid finds someone who truly makes her happy. Now, if she can just shake the nightmares and those few extra pounds, everything will be perfect... or so she thinks.
witty and poignant, Colleen Clayton’s stunning debut is a story about moving on after the unthinkable happens.
What Happens Next is one of the lovely contemporary books to
be released this 2012, and I’m proud to say that I’m one of the first readers
to read it before its release day (Yay!). Now for the review…
I think the plot was great it was built perfectly with
realistic account of the lives of a teenager. There are no boring patches I’ve
seen throughout the story, but somehow I find the ending a bit over hurried but
I don’t think it was that biggie. There is a sensitive content on the story and
I don’t think it’s hidden from the readers (read the excerpt). It serve a
useful purpose for me, it help me understand more the theme and the characters.
Cassidy and Corey were convincingly rounded as well as the
minor characters her family and friends—Kirsten and Paige. They played each of their
roles perfectly that help the story to become more interesting, with their combined
good and bad qualities. I love mostly was Cassidy’s strength with all the
struggles she faces through her friends, her dilemma whether to tell her secret
to her family and with herself, emotionally and physically. And then there’s Corey
(save the best for last :D)…he is an incredible, sweet guy but not being too
cheesy and all girls will absolutely love him without a doubt. I love to thank
Ms. Colleen for the words she put through Corey, it made him my no.1 if not one
of the swoon worthy, to-follow guy everywhere not just by the looks but by his
words. Sid and Corey had a beautiful chemistry; their attraction with each
other was put up rightly with good explanation and timing.
All in all I love every single part of the book. From its
plot, characters, through its concept—hope, hope that everything will be
alright, that there’s always those people who’s on your side no matter what. It
deserves all the praises it’s been receiving. Totally recommend it!
Clayton grew up in a small, suburban town just outside of Cleveland, Ohio.
After graduating from KentStateUniversity,
she worked as a social worker in residential treatment centers for troubled
teens and as Program Supervisor for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Mahoning
Valley. She currently lives in Ohio
with her family and recently received her MFA in fiction writing from the
Northeast Ohio Consortium (NEOMFA). She teaches fiction writing and composition