The Last Enchanter Blog Tour

Name of Book: The Last Enchanter (Book 2 of the Celestine Chronicles)
Author: Laurisa White Reyes'
Published: October 15, 2013
Publisher: Tanglewood Press
Genre: YA Fantasy


Book Description

In Book I, THE ROCK OF IVANORE, enchanter's apprentice Marcus Frye and five other boys set out on a dangerous journey to locate the Rock of Ivanore and bring it back to their village.

In THE LAST ENCHANTER, months have passed since they succeeded in their quest. One of the boys, Kelvin, is living as royalty in Dokur, and Marcus is studying magic with Zyll. When Lord Fredric is murdered and Kelvin becomes king, the Enchanter Zyll and Marcus head for Dokur in hopes of protecting Kelvin from meeting the same fate, though it quickly becomes apparent that none of them are safe, and Marcus has had disturbing visions of Zyll's death. With the help of his old friends Clovis and Bryn, joined by new friend Lael, a feisty girl in search of her mother, Marcus uncovers a powerful secret that will change the course of his life forever.

In addition to THE LAST ENCHANTER being released on OCTOBER 15th in hardback, THE ROCK OF IVANORE is also now available in hardback! Both titles can be purchased at bookstores nationwide and online at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and Indiebound. They are available as E-books, too.

To celebrate the release of her newest book, author Laurisa White Reyes is giving away a brand new 16 GB NOOK HD!!!  Details on how to enter the giveaway can be found at the end of this post. In the meantime, please enjoy this following excerpt from THE LAST ENCHANTER followed by an interview with the author, Laurisa White Reyes.

EXCERPT from THE LAST ENCHANTER

Marcus waited until he heard Zyll turn the lock in his door before heading back down the corridor. Zyll had told him to do what he thought was best, and that’s exactly what he would do.

He passed several armed sentries, one at every door, as he made his way through the lower level of the Fortress. Kelvin was determined not to let the Agoran rebels get inside again. Maybe Marcus shouldn’t worry about his brother. With all these guards around, Kelvin was far safer than Fredric must have been. Still, he deserved to know how their grandfather died. Secrets had nearly destroyed Marcus and Kelvin’s relationship during their quest eight months ago. There would be no secrets between them ever again.

Marcus didn’t want to go back to the dining room. Kelvin and Jayson were probably still arguing over dinner, and what Marcus had to say was private anyway. He would go instead to Kelvin’s council chambers and wait for him there.

Other than the sentries, the interior of the Fortress was quiet. Most of the servants had already retired to their rooms for the night. Marcus hurried across the vast entry hall toward the east alcove where the offices were located. He had made it halfway when he suddenly had the feeling that he was not alone.  He turned and looked behind him, but there was no one beside the guard standing at the Fortress’s main door. The light from several oil lamps left the corners of the room hidden in darkness. Someone could easily conceal himself in one.

This is silly, Marcus thought. I’m letting my mind play tricks on me. Still, he walked the rest of the way as fast as he could without actually running.

The door to Kelvin’s council chambers stood just inside a narrow alcove. To Marcus’s surprise, the sconces on the wall were not lit. The alcove was dark except for a weak glow from the lanterns in the great hall.  He had expected to find a guard here, too, but the alcove was empty—or was it?

Near the door to Kelvin’s chambers Marcus saw a large, dark clump of something on the floor. He approached cautiously and touched it with his foot.  An arm fell forward, hitting the floor with a dull thump. Marcus stepped back, his breath quickening. The dark clump was a sentry. In the dim light, Marcus couldn’t tell if he was unconscious or dead.

Behind him, Marcus heard the sound of footsteps which stopped abruptly.

“Hello?” Marcus called out hoping it was one of the other guards. “There’s a man here,” he said. “I think he’s hurt!”

When no one replied, Marcus realized once again that his imagination was running away with him. But he did need to find help for the sentry. He was about to leave when he heard a new sound coming from inside the chambers: an unmistakable rattle as if something had fallen and rolled across the floor.

Marcus stepped over the guard’s body and took hold of the door handle. Slowly he turned it, pushing open the door just an inch. Candlelight spilled through the narrow crack into the alcove. Marcus saw now that the sentry’s eyes were open, staring dully up at nothing. He was most certainly dead. And Marcus suspected that whoever was inside the room had done it.

Pushing the door open a little further, Marcus stepped inside. Large tapestries hung floor to ceiling against the walls. Three stories above, the stained glass ceiling looked like a patchwork of black and gray. Charred remains of a log stood cold in the fireplace, though six candles burned in an ornate candelabra beside Kelvin’s desk. On the floor lay an ink bottle, dark liquid trailing from it like a tail. This must be what had made the noise. Marcus bent to pick it up. The glass bottle felt warm to the touch.

The air in the room was chill. So why would the bottle be so warm? Someone must have been holding it, Marcus thought, but who?

As he set the bottle back on the desk, he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. A tapestry fluttered ever so slightly. Marcus’s heart raced. He reached for his knife, but then remembered he had left it in his room for he had thought he was just going to talk to Kelvin. What would he have needed it for? He reached for the tapestry with trembling fingers and jerked it aside, but the only thing behind it was a bare wall.

All of sudden, something heavy hit him from behind. Sharp pain exploded across his shoulders, and Marcus’s face smashed into the wall. He felt drops of hot blood trickle onto his lips. Licking them, he tasted copper, and he wondered if the loud crack he’d heard had been his back breaking or something else. He turned and saw Kelvin’s chair in pieces behind him on the floor. Someone had thrown it at him! He had only a second to think before something else came flying at him, but this time it was a man.

The man yelled. Marcus caught the glint of a blade in his hand just before it came down on him. Marcus twisted away just in time, the blade grating instead against the stone wall. But the man did not stop. He sliced his dagger wildly in every direction. Marcus jumped and slid his way across the room, doing his best avoid the attacks. The man was slender, almost frail-looking, and yet was surprisingly fast and strong. He lunged at Marcus, not with the dagger, but with a set of blood-stained claws extended for the kill. It wasn’t a man at all, Marcus realized. It was an Agoran.

Marcus grabbed the candelabrum. As he swung it in an arc, the candles flew off. Two went out as they hit the floor, but the other four stilled burned, casting long, unnatural shadows onto the tapestries. One lit the corner of a tapestry on fire, the flames soon licking the woven patterns like a hungry snake. The candelabrum hit the attacker with a force that would have knocked most men to their knees, but this one didn’t even flinch. When the Agoran took hold of it, Marcus expected him to yank it out of his hands. Instead he thrust it forward, pushing Marcus off balance. He fell onto his back, sending a fresh tremor of pain through him. A second later, the attacker was on top of Marcus, holding the point of a blade to his throat. Damp tendrils of long, shaggy hair clung to his face. His pupils, narrow like a cat’s, peered at Marcus, recognition slowly dawning.  The Agoran and Marcus stared at each other, both remembering the day months earlier when they had first met.

Just then the door to the chamber flew open. A guard rushed in, his sword raised. Behind him came Kelvin and Jayson. The Agoran leapt off of Marcus and crossed the room in half a breath’s time. The guard ran after him, but the Agoran tore the burning tapestry free from the wall and flung it at him. The guard screamed in pain as fire engulfed his uniform. The tapestry dropped to the floor, the flames trapping the Agoran at the back of the room. Marcus managed to roll clear of it, though he felt his skin blistering with the heat and smelled the guard’s scorched flesh.

Jayson ripped the burning fabric from the guard’s body as Kelvin picked up his fallen sword. Kelvin slashed at the tapestry, trying to make a path through the fire. As he broke through, Marcus looked up to see what would happen next, but to his and everyone’s surprise, the Agoran was gone.

INTERVIEW w/ LAURISA WHITE REYES

What books influenced you most when you were growing up?

My favorite series for years was the TRIXIE BELDEN MYSTERIES. I still have the entire set of books in a box in my garage. Some of my other favorites included ROBINSON CRUSOE, OF MICE AND MEN, GONE WITH THE WIND, WUTHERING HEIGHTS and ROOTS.  Heavy duty stuff for a kid, I know, but I loved them. Still do. As an adult I learned more about writing from Dan Brown (THE DAVINCI CODE, ANGELS & DEMONS) than anyone else. He is a master of suspense, every chapter a cliffhanger so that you just can’t put his books down. Period. And I love how he weaves multiple points of view together until they all collide at the end. I wish I could write like that.

What gave you the idea for your book series The Celestine Chronicles?

I’ve always enjoyed reading to my kids at night before they go to bed. When my oldest son was about 8 years old, he asked me to make up a story instead of read one. So I told him about an enchanter’s apprentice who botched his spells. Each night my son would tell me what he wanted to hear that night, whether it was dragons, or magic, or sword fighting, and I’d weave it into the story. Eventually I started writing it down. A year later I had a completed manuscript of THE ROCK OF IVANORE. I wrote THE LAST ENCHANTER two years later.

What is your writing day like?

I don't have a typical writing day. As a mom of five kids, I actually have very little time to write. Years ago I used to stay up late at night to write, but I now I try to wake up an hour before the kids do and get a little work done then. On a good day I might write 1,000 words -- the equivalent of about 5 printed pages.

Who are your favorite characters in THE LAST ENCHANTER?

That's a tough question. While I like all the characters (I wouldn't write a character I couldn't like) Lael is new to this book. She wasn't in Book I. Lael is Marcus's age but wasn't included in the original quest because she is a girl. She really proves herself, though. While the boys use swords and bows and arrows, Lael is adept with the sling. Also, Bryn (the Groc who parades around in the form of a little boy) is particularly fond of her. And any friend of Bryn is a friend of mine.

Will there be a book III in The Celestine Chronicles?

Yes. The Seer of the Guilde is tentatively slated for 2015. However, in the meantime, I am working on the parallel series called The Crystal Keeper, which chronicles Jayson's years in exile in Hestoria. Anyone interested in the story of Jayson and Ivanore will want to read it. In the meantime, I hope everyone will enjoy THE LAST ENCHANTER.

GIVEAWAY TIME!!!

Laurisa White Reyes, author of THE LAST ENCHANTER, is giving away a brand new

16 GB NOOK HD!!!  

There are many ways to win:

1) Take a pic of you and your copy of THE LAST ENCHANTER - post it on the web (Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr, a website, etc.) and email the link to: laurisawhitereyes(at)yahoo(dot)com

2) Follow Laurisa's blog and/or Facebook page

3) Tweet about this giveaway

4) Leave a comment below

The winner will be chosen at random via Rafflecopter. 

To enter the giveaway, fill out the form below. 

U.S. residents only, please. 

This giveaway will end on November 8th.

  a Rafflecopter giveaway


Authors Links

Laurisa's Website | Laurisa's Blog | Facebook | Twitter 

Sunset Rising Blog Tour

Name of Book: Sunset Rising
Author: S.M. McEachern

Published: September 23, 2012

Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
Genre: YA Dystopian

Book Description: 

February 2024: Desperate to find refuge from the nuclear storm, a group of civilians discover a secret government bio-dome. Greeted by a hail of bullets and told to turn back, the frantic refugees stand their ground and are grudgingly permitted entry. But the price of admission is high.

283 years later… Sunny O'Donnell is a seventeen-year-old slave who has never seen the sun. She was born in the Pit, a subterranean extension of the bio-dome. Though life had never been easy, lately it had become a nightmare. Her mom was killed in the annual Cull, and her dad thought it was a good time to give up on life. Reyes Crowe, her long-time boyfriend, was pressuring her to get married, even though it would mean abandoning her father.

She didn't think things could get any worse until she was forced upstairs to the Dome to be a servant-girl at a bachelor party. That's where she met Leisel Holt, the president's daughter, and her fiancé, Jack Kenner.

Now Sunny is wanted for treason. If they catch her, she'll be executed.

She thought Leisel's betrayal was the end. But it was just the beginning.


Author Bio

S.M. McEachern (also known as Susan) has an honors degree in International Development.

As an author, Susan combined her political background with her love of action and romance to create her debut novel Sunset Rising. 

The first book of a trilogy, Susan is currently working on the second book and drafting the third. What does she like best about being an author? Hearing from her readers!

Authors Interview

1. Can you tell us how you came up with the storyline behind ‘Sunset Rising’?

Two things in my life collided that prompted me to write Sunset Rising: first, the idea for the novel came to me (years ago) after I did academic research on a Bio-dome in Arizona and, second, my teenage daughter and I have been doing buddy reads of Young Adult novels for the past four years. So an old idea coupled with modern day literature got me thinking until the story was so persistent that I had to put it on paper.


2. What is your favourite chapter of the book and why?

I guess if I had to pick a favourite, it would be Chapter Eight. That’s when the proverbial poop hits the fan. Things get pretty fast paced after that.


3. How do you get in the mood to write your ‘masterpieces’?

I set aside work hours and try to clear my head of all the day-to-day noise we all experience. It’s tough to do. I understand why people meditate or take up yoga. That said, the story is rarely far from my mind and I find inspiration in the weirdest places.

4. Most writers get ‘writer’s block’, so how do you cure yours?

Easy. Insert earbuds, select a favourite playlist, and go for a run. The music inspires me, the exercise recharges me, and the sunshine brings me to life. It’s the perfect combination! And yes, I’m from Canada. Snow doesn’t scare me.


5. This is your first book; do you plan to write a sequel? And when do you plan on publishing it?

Anyone who has read the book knows there is a sequel. In fact, I’ve had fans email me about the release date and reviewers say they eagerly await the next installment. Sunset Rising is a series. I have a date with my editor on December 2nd, so I’m hoping to release book 2 around Christmas or shortly thereafter. Look for a cover reveal and excerpts on my blog in November 2013.


6. And lastly, what three words would describe ‘Sunset Rising’ to our followers that would make this book stand out from the rest in this genre?

Intrigue. Action. Romance.

Excerpts: 

Excerpt #1

“I wish I could help.” Somewhere inside my head a little voice told me that was the very opposite of what I wanted to do.

“Perhaps you can help, Sunny,” Leisel said, her expression brightening. “Maybe you can take my place in the wedding.”

Excerpt #2

Something in his expression changed when I said that. He almost seemed surprised. His intense blue eyes narrowed. He seemed to want to look inside me, see right into my soul. Maybe he thought I was lying.

“So you’re saying you’ll pose as the bride and risk taking a bullet for her in order to save your people?”

“Yes.”

What I was saying could be considered treason. Jack could call in the guards and have me arrested right now…

Excerpt #3

“Seventeen? I married a teenager?” He sounded shocked. “Wait a minute, are you telling me that you and Reyes got engaged when you were only thirteen?”

“Yes. What’s so strange about that?”

“I’m twenty and that’s a young age in the Dome to get married. Usually people wait until they’re about twenty-five.”

“Well, when you face certain death at thirty-five, you speed up your life a little bit.”

Excerpt #4 

“Do you believe in fate, Sunny?” he asked after a while.

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it. Why?” I was relieved that he didn’t sound mad.

“I was brought up to believe that my main purpose in life was to get rid of our dictator and restore equality and freedom back to the people. My mother was convinced that the best chance we had was through my marriage. And here I am married to you… the girl who just found a way to raise an army.”

Excerpt #5

I took him by the hand and guided him toward the bedroom. He took off his t-shirt and flopped down on the bed. Since he was blind in the dark, I stripped off my vest and put my t-shirt back on before I climbed in.

“It’s not pitch black in here. The guards use nightlights, and it leaks into the apartment,” I said.

Jack opened his eyes as wide as he could and looked around the room. “I guess you have to born in the Pit to find light where there isn’t any.”

I rolled that thought over in my mind and realized just how true it was.

Author Links

  Website | Amazon 

Unwanted Blog Tour

Title: Unwanted

Author: Alivia Anders

Genre: NA Dystopian

Where to Purchase: Amazon and B&N

Book Description

She would be his freedom. He would be her price.

In a world overrun with people and narrowing resources, the basis of life has turned to do or die.

No longer does the balance of wealth and power apply. A strict split between the rich and poor has made the lines clear- the more money you have, the more power you control.

For seventeen year old Emily Beucant, life is an equal gift and curse.

Having grown up pre- Unwanted society, she can still remember the days it was okay to play with children from the other side of the concrete wall, back when her father was still alive, and back when the Unwanted program was used to Mark and hunt criminals, not sign away the lives of ungrateful children or spouses with high insurance collections over their heads. But since her father's creation of the program, the government has taken control and made it into a lucrative monster. And as Emily is days away from her eighteenth birthday, and handsome inheritance, she will soon see just how badly it is to be Marked.

When her soulless aunt places Emily up to be Marked an Unwanted, she is forced to go on the run from all she has ever known. No where is safe for her, and no one will protect her, least they wish to have the same fate as her. It isn't until she forms a tense, explosive alliance with a former doctor, Ben, that it looks like the tables may turn in her favor. Together they race against those searching for her, desperate to find a way to free her from an early death. But is it too late? No one is safe. No one is free.

Excerpt:

The time on my phone flashes 4:09AM by the time I come within sight of the first glimpses of Primrose Gardens. It’s nearly identical to Greener Lanes; a carefully monitored entryway was the only real way in, as the land was secured in a fence at least twenty feet high. Of course, like all high property, the maintenance of areas like the bottom of fences was generally overlooked, and were easily broken into by stray animals. Or fugitive eighteen year olds. I double-check no cameras are positioned on the outside of the fence, then carefully navigate around it. My hands and fingers brush through dewy ferns and pines, the cold droplets a welcomed relief to my grime-coated fingers.

At the corner of the first half, I spot an opening. It’s small, roughly the size of a skinny barrel, and pieces of rotting wood have been shoved in front of it in a weak attempt to conceal it. I wiggle them free with little effort, check the other side for any pesky animals, and slip in. The backyard is empty, nothing but freshly mown green grass to both corners of the enclosed yard. Inwardly I sigh with huge relief. Nothing in the backyard means there’s almost no chance of the house having dogs or kids. I sprint up to the house and press myself into the siding, peering over the corner inside. Sunlight beams over the hedges and fencing, shining streaks of yellow into the wide floor-to-ceiling windows backing most of the house. There’s no lights on, and nothing casually abandoned or out of place. Maybe the place is abandoned. 

Pressing my luck, I try the handle to the sliding glass doors. It’s unlocked. I hold my breath and pop the door open a pinch. When no alarms sound, I can barely contain my jittery hands from smacking the windows with glee like some over-sugared toddler who found out the square shape goes in the square-shaped hole. I step inside and quickly shut the door behind me, careful not to make too much noise. Even with the sunlight streaking through the glass, I can’t see too much, but I figure it’s best not to turn on the lights just in case. The kitchen reminds me eerily of home. Modern, glass and black metal fixtures create a desensitized atmosphere, devoid of emotion and memory. No fruit in a bowl on the counter, no washcloths hanging on the bar to the oven, no magnets on the fridge. Whoever does live here, doesn’t seem to be really living. Two slim envelopes sit on the far counter near the entrance to what looks like a dining room. I inch closer and squint, trying to make out the name on the label. 

The sound of a door upstairs stops me cold. I spin about the room, frantic. A place to hide, a place to hide... the kitchen sink cabinet. The cabinet was small, barely built to hold the pipes for the sink. Tiny bottles of cleaner, rags, scrubbing brushes, and several wrenches were piled in a corner, eating up any extra space I could fit into. This was most likely the only moment I would ever be thankful for my recent years of near-death starvation movements at my aunt’s hand. I was told once that when you adrenaline hits, everything slows to a crawl. At the time, Dad had used the words heightened senses, joking that for a blink in our lives, we became superhuman. For my sake, I hope he was right. If the owner of the house found me, it would be either fight or flight. And I was counting on the former. My fingers silently grasp for one of the wrenches, and I tense, going quiet and still. 

Footsteps sound on the linoleum tiles. A chair is pulled from the dining room table, and a sound of something heavy dropped on the table. I dare not breathe. My heart races faster than helicopter blades slicing through the cloudy skies on an emergency rescue. Pressure builds in my ears and chest, my throat squeezing until I can barely gather a thread of air. Seconds tick by, painfully slow. The nervous tick in my chest shifts to my feet, the fight flickering within. It crosses my mind that if I move swiftly, I could catch the owner off guard, burst from the cabinet doors and run for the fence. Outside the cabinet doors, there’s nothing but silence. No feet, no mutters, not even a grunt. All I can be sure of is my heart, slamming erratically against my chest, pulsing faster with every passing moment. 

The cabinet door flies open. A hand reaches in, grasping onto my upper arm. I try to swing the wrench but there’s no room in the cupboard. In one move I’m yanked out and tossed onto the tiled floor, and greeted by a blackened barrel of a gun holding true to my face. I know better than to scream for help. Instead I scramble with haste, rolling over and finding myself on my feet. My eyes focus, and I meet with the owner of the gun hovering in front of my nose. Sharp, dark green eyes stare holes into me, but his expression is glacial, reserved. Instantly I’m reminded of Matthew, and how I’d handle his past dealers who would try and stiff him. Like a lion lying in wait, poised and in control, I’d wait until they left a sliver of their guard down and attack the first weak spot available. But this isn’t a drug deal gone wrong, and Matthew is not here. This is real life, and I’m staring down a loaded weapon poised to blow my face all over the wall. If I give this man a fraction of a weak spot, he will use it and exploit it. I refuse to give this man a weak spot. 

He jerks his head to the cabinet doors, the short brown hair on his head bristling with motion. “You have exactly ten seconds to give me one good reason not to empty my gun into your thieving frame.” Surprise crosses my face, but I mask it as quickly as it slips. Could he possibly not know who I am? That I’m Marked and as good as dead? I say nothing. His eyes narrow, as if he can see right through me and learn all my dirty secrets. I try not to visibly flinch. He motions his free hand to the chair that’s been pulled from the table in the adjacent room. Our eyes stay locked and unblinking, neither moving. “Why don’t you hand me the wrench, and take a seat?” My lips stay sealed. I run over the options in my head, each more bizarre and unlikely than the last. Each one ends with me getting a bullet lodged into some part of my body, and I really don’t like the idea of becoming swiss cheese. He sighs disappointingly. “Unless you prefer that I call the police?” His free hand now reaches into his pocket, cellphone ready to dial on his touchscreen. If I wasn’t shaking before, I am now. 

My body shudders so hard I drop the wrench, the sound the smack against the floor so loud I yelp. The willful voice in my mind resurfaces, screaming. Run! Attack him, take the gun from him and go! But the brazen drive fades as quickly as it comes, and I haven’t made a move. Confusion swings in my head. Part of me still clings to the past I ripped myself from. The truth that I am no longer Emily Beucant, socialite of Camardine, daughter of the man who established the Unwanted program, continues to sink it, startling me with each passing tick of the clock. I am now Emily, fugitive of the law, outcast of all areas of society, Marked an Unwanted and fighting a system my own blood created. Unwanted. Unloved. Undesired. “No one,” I say, ignoring the crack in my voice. “Is going to take me alive, Unwanted or not. You may as well shoot me.” The man lowered the gun by a fraction, tilting it to the side. His eyes darkened as if he would explode with rage, but he spoke as if confused. “I’m not going to... hold on,” he zeroed in on my face, taking in my blonde tresses. “You can’t be that girl...” I did my best to stand rigid and tall, envisioning a plank of wood for motivation. It offered little help for my intimidating factor. 

Okay, so he knew. His eyes couldn’t hide the connection behind them, same way Matthew couldn’t hide his traitor behavior. Where did that leave me? I was going to find out. “Do it,” I make the words harsh, hot like scalding water. “Shoot me. You have every right.” The frown on his lips deepens, and he lowers the gun by another inch. Then, just like that, he flips the gun’s safety on and tucks it into the side of his black pants. A new wave of emotion, raw and frightened, rolls over me. Is he going to turn me in? “Are you hungry?” His words catch me off guard. Until he asked, I hadn’t so much as given a passing thought to food. My stomach gnawed and groaned. “What, no-?” He stares at me suspiciously. “You look like you weigh twenty pounds soaking wet. Might want to refuel if you plan on trying to break into any more houses.” I couldn’t help it. “Are you seriously asking the person who just broke into your home if they want breakfast?” “Are you going to take breakfast from the only person who’s offered it to you?” He counters, scowling. “I’m not-” “Breakfast or the police. Your choice.” What the actual hell was going on? I crossed my arms and made a face. “Fine.” 

He motions to the dining room one more time, the grand gesture like salt rubbing in the wounds. Looking over my shoulder, I carefully walk past him, crossing into the next room and sitting on the pulled out chair. A basket is placed on the table, muffin tops poking out from the thin cloth covering the top. I peel back the cloth and sneak a peek between keeping my eyes on the man. “Blueberry.” “Do you not eat blueberry muffins?” His mouth turns up at the corners, fighting a snicker. “Actually,” I begin, pushing the basket away. “I’m allergic.” He pushes off the doorframe, moving for the fridge. “I have orange-cranberry, too.” “I’m not hungry.” He sighs with irritability, and runs his hands over the top of his head. “You’re either incredibly stupid or stubborn.” That gets a rise out of me. “Talk to my aunt, and she’d tell you I’m both.” “My guess is stubborn with a side of stupid, if what I saw earlier was any indication,” he jabs at me, eyes turning to their glacial stare. “You’ve got some nerve, some seriously huge cojones, thinking you could break into a place like this. Let me guess, you thought you were so lucky. 

No one spots you at the fence, the door’s are unlocked and place immaculate.” “You have no ide-” “I spotted you clear as day from the second floor, little girl. You hadn’t even finished moving those planks I shoved over the gaping hole. If I spotted you that fast, imagine how quickly the cameras on the other side got a look at your face.” I went weak in the knees. “But I didn’t see-” “Damn right you didn’t see, you were too busy enjoying the win of your little conquest. Tell me, what was your plan after you got inside, huh? Take the car, look for jewels to pawn, murder a family if they spotted you and reported to the Unwanted call line-” “It wasn’t supposed to happen!” I’m on my feet, but don’t remember standing. Flashes of my hands, white-knuckled as they grip the edge of the table, dance at the bottom of my line of sight. 

His green gaze is unforgiving. “Is that what you were planning to say if you were caught? ‘I’m sorry, sir, it wasn’t supposed to happen’?” “Is breakfast a codeword for lecture? Because I really, really don’t want any breakfast. Now or never.” I make to leave, but he stands in the way. My fists clench tight, and I relax my arms in case I need to power-fist my way through him. “Move.” “Answer me one question,” he says coolly. I can’t believe the nerve of this taunting jerk. In less than ten minutes, I’ve gone from fugitive to captive, all because my stupid instincts said to go to a place familiar to home. I can’t look him in the face, so I turn my head down to the ground. “Ask.” His words are like a thin thread of breath on my neck, a cold breeze that makes me shudder from the chill. “What was your plan?” To save Matthew. To kill Christine. To run long enough for someone to reverse my Unwanted status. “I have to fix it,” the words barely leave my lips, the truth a burning declaration I hadn’t known existed even in the deepest pockets of my mind. “I have to stop it before someone else ends up in my shoes. 

Marked while innocent, captured while terrified, slain without cause.” I tilt my head up slowly, coming within inches of his face. Waves of green swallow me, and for a second I swear I’m caught in the tide in his eyes, ready to be pitched into the waters, lost to the sea. “I have to end the Unwanted program.”

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About the Author

ALIVIA ANDERS is the author of the Amazon bestselling Illumine Series. Born and raised in PA, she fell headfirst into the world of writing at thirteen with the discovery of internet fan-fiction and RPG-forum boards. A lover of chinchillas, mexican food, and coffee, she spends most of her time drumming up new ideas to spin into tales to enchant readers everywhere. You can find out more about Alivia, and her upcoming projects, by visiting her Facebook or Blogger. Books Available by Alivia Anders: The Illumine Series: Illumine (Book #1) Obumbrate (Book #2) Riven (Book #3) Ethereal (Book #3.5, releases March 2013) Other Series By Alivia Anders: The Black Symphony Saga Novellas: An Ice Princess Heart (Novella #1, releases 2013) An Ice Princess Kiss (Novella #2, releases 2013) An Ice Princess Symphony (Novella #3, releases 2013) An Ice Princess Dream (Novella #4, releases 2013) The Black Symphony Saga: A Shard of Ice (Book #1, releases April 2014) A Brush of Fire (Book #2, releases January 2015) A Breath of Life (Book #3, releases December 2015)

Authors Links

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