Please welcome Author to my blog today! She is having a super blitz day today before her tour kicks off!
About the Author:
I am Xamien’s secret lover. Well, in my head I am
and since I’m single this is completely allowed. Some of you may ask, who is
Xamien, don’t worry you will meet him soon enough, but no falling in love with
him. He is all mine.
Curling up with a good book and losing yourself to
another time and place is the greatest reward. Being able to feel a character’s
emotions, their fears, pain and love. Now that is incredible. I relish in the
books that stay with me long after they have ended. This is what I strive for
in my writing. To give the readers, and myself, an escape into another world,
my world.
I have been writing since I was twelve. My
parents, sorry mom and dad, would send me to my room for an hour every night to
do homework, and instead I wrote stories. Oops, guess that is why I did so bad
in math.
I have never stopped writing since then and never
will. It’s like an addiction, but a good one. I adore stepping into the shoes
of a character and deciding their fate. The characters are why I write. I want
to fall in love with them (even the bad ones), so that I care about what
happens to them in a story. If I can’t care about the characters then why
bother with the story.
I live in Toronto with a menagerie of pets that
keep me on my toes.
FALL
Book 3 in
the Senses Series
Cindy
Paterson
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: May 7th 2013
ISBN: 978-0-9917327-1-5
Number of pages: 244 approx.
Word Count: 98,000
Cover Artist: Mark Paterson
Book Description:
“He’s destroying me—us. I need him like my next
breath, yet I’m suffocating.”
An
unrequited love that has ripped her to pieces.
Delara has
loved Waleron for over a century. Their intense chemistry is sensual, gripping,
irresistible. But tragedy struck, and after sixty-one years of believing he was
dead, Waleron returns a tortured man. He claims the man she loves is dead, yet
the undeniable sexual tension still pulls them together.
“I am no longer the man you love, maitagarri. I
am incapable of it.”
Waleron
has given his oath to protect the Senses. He will sacrifice everything for
them. But there is one Senses he has vowed to protect more than any
other—Delara. He will do anything to make certain she is safe, even if it means
he must deny her the love they once shared.
She is the
hunted.
Delara’s
life is in jeopardy and Waleron will do anything to protect her. But he never
suspected that Xamien, the man he brings to help protect her is way more
important to her than he ever knew.
Torn
between two men and hunted by another, Delara must fight her hardest
battle—herself.
Prologue
Toronto, Canada 1987
“You bloody well won’t give him up, will you?”
Delara let go of the balcony railing and spun around.
The breeze caught the jagged strands of her hair, drifting them across her
face. The moment she saw his reddened cheeks and clenched fists, she knew what
was to come. Her fingers curled into her bathrobe and she stepped back, but the
railing impeded any further escape. “Tarek? What are you—”
“Waleron!” he shouted. Tarek’s attractive face twisted
into a distorted monster, smooth pale skin filling with crevices and lips
pressed so firmly together that they nearly disappeared. The sound escaping his
throat was a mix of a lion’s roar and an eagle screeching in misery as if
caught in a trap.
He smashed his fist through the glass French door and
blood dripped from the cuts in his skin. He didn’t appear to notice. “He’s
dead. Dead, damn it.” The glass crunched beneath his feet as he came towards
her. He grabbed her by the shoulders, fingers digging into her flesh. “I’ve
done everything for you. Everything!” Tarek shook her so hard her teeth
clanked. “Yet, still you love him.”
How could she deny it? She couldn’t. There was no
point fighting Tarek when he was like this. She’d learned that long ago.
He shoved a crinkled piece of paper into her face.
“Explain this.”
She glanced down at the familiar handwriting and gasped.
Oh god, he’d found it. Before he could react, she grabbed the letter from his
hand and curled it in her fist, hiding it away from the tainted hand of anyone
who dared to read it. But Tarek had. He’d found it within the folds of the
pages in her book on her nightstand.
“I always wondered why you opened that same book every
single night before you went to sleep. You were reading it.” His voice was
garbled with rage and saliva spewed from his mouth. “His words. In our bed.”
His bloodied hand slapped across her cheek with such force her head whiplashed
backwards. If he hadn’t been holding her shoulder the momentum would’ve sent
her over the balcony. “I loved you! I cared for you.”
I will not survive without you. Waleron’s words. Words he’d written to her.
“He never loved you, Delara.” She winced as he shoved
her in the chest and the bone in her spine crushed against the metal railing.
She hooked her arm in the rails then quickly glanced over her shoulder, looking
down the three stories to the pavement below.
“I did.” Tarek said, “It’s me you should love.” He
leaned forward and his whisky soaked breath gusted into her face. “I won’t
stand for it any longer. I won’t be made a fool of.”
Fear smothered her. His last words were calm,
deliberate, and in that instant she knew this would be different from his usual
punching bag sessions. “Tarek, please. I know he’s gone. He—”
Tarek grabbed her arm, fingers bruising her flesh as
he yanked her towards him. “When you make love to me, do you think of him?”
“No Tarek! It’s
not like that.” She tried to pull from his grip, but he raised his elbow and
slammed it into her face. Her body flew back and she would’ve fallen over the
railing if he hadn’t been holding her.
Her scream of agony was cut off by another blow to the
head, this time causing her vision to blur. She coughed and choked as blood
streamed from her broken nose. Tears swam with the blood, dripping onto her
robe then onto the floor. She had to breathe out of her mouth, short gasps of
air mixed with cries of pain.
She tried to keep from passing out by focusing on her
training. Remember what Waleron taught you. Years she grappled with him, her
vigilant lover making certain she could outmaneuver any species that came at
her. What he hadn’t taught her was how to live after he died.
Tarek’s fist made contact with her cheek again, making
a resounding smack. She heard the crack of her cheekbone the same time as
sharp, jarring pain rushed through her face. “I did everything to make you love
me, but still you think of him. Still want him! You fuckin’ ungrateful bitch.
He’s dead, damn it. Dead!”
“Please,” she sobbed. “Tarek that’s not true. Don’t do
this. Why are you doing this?” But she knew why. Jealousy. Tarek had always
been obsessed with her and she would’ve seen it, if she’d cared. That emotion
disappeared the day the Lilac killed Waleron. Now, she survived. Breathed. And
often used her knife to cut her skin to try to take away the emotional pain.
“If you won’t have me then you will have no one.”
Body broken, spirit eaten away over the last sixty-one
years of misery, Delara thought she’d welcome death, but the fear of what Tarek
would do to her gnawed into her flesh like termites. “Tarek, please—”
He punched her in the gut and air was forced from her
lungs with a whoosh. She bent over in agony holding her stomach. She spit the
saliva that tasted like iron from her mouth while she gasped for breath.
Tarek grabbed her arm and jerked. He dragged her
through the bedroom to the top of the staircase. Without warning, he pushed her
forward with a hard shove to the small of her back. With a choked scream of
surprise, she tumbled head first down the flight of stairs to land in a heap on
the ceramic tiled floor. Debilitating pain pounded into her back and neck,
while her twisted right leg felt as if it had been trampled by a herd of
buffalo.
Footsteps thudded down the stairs.
She choked on a cry as she tried to crawl to her feet
and get away, but he was already on her. His fist curled into her hair as he
pulled her on her back across the floor to the living room. Her scalp screamed
and she tried desperately to ease the pain by holding his wrist and pushing
with her feet, but one leg refused to function properly.
He lifted her up by the hair, forcing her to stand. A
cry wrenched from her throat and she stumbled and nearly fell to the floor.
Fresh tears swam in the lids of her eyes.
“Tarek.” Her breaths hitched. She noticed his wavering
pupils, the twitching in his cheek—he wasn’t going to stop. He was going to
kill her. The crazed look sheathed his usual striking appearance, making him
unrecognizable. Whatever she had to do it had to be now, because Tarek was
going to make certain she never saw another sunrise.
She averted her eyes and relaxed her limbs, hoping her
submission would lower his guard. The moment he loosened his grip she reacted,
whirling and slamming her fist that held the note into his broad-width nose.
She heard the distinct crunch and his roar of fury at the same time.
She raised her knee as he bent over screaming
something about how he’d make her suffer and jerked it into his face. She
collapsed to the floor as her bad leg gave out. She crawled a few feet away and
used the couch for leverage to pull herself up.
She had no clue why she was fighting when she’d been
dead inside for years, but something inside her screamed for her to live. Tarek
wouldn’t stop until her last breath this time. This wasn’t about submission or
punishment any longer. It was control. Possession. Worst of all it was madness.
Delara limped to the foyer while Tarek yelled
incoherently, holding his shirt to his broken nose.
“You bitch!”
She banged into the door and undid the bolt only to
yank on it and have nothing happen. She pulled and pulled, using her physical
strength and her mind against Tarek’s telekinesis, but he was stronger and
there was no way she could win against his power.
She turned, breathing heavily, heart pounding as Tarek
approached. Blood smeared across his face and his nose sat at an odd angle. She
judged the distance to the bay window in the den and wondered if she could make
it before he caught her. Could she jump through the glass? Would it break on
impact? Did it matter? If she didn’t get away, he’d make certain she suffered
before death.
The crumbled piece of paper still lay protected in her
deadlocked fist and she thought of the man who wrote it, of his unyielding
courage. Waleron would fight until his heart refused to pump, his limbs refused
to function—he’d never give up. He’d do whatever it took to survive.
Her hand tightened on the paper.
Excerpt:
“Eavesdropping?” Before he could
defend, or more than likely not bother, she continued, “Why didn’t you say
something? You said you’d tell him.”
He raised both hands in the air as if to ward of any further assault. “I
did, Kitten. He refused.” The conversation had been simple—Xamien volunteered
to stay and help protect Delara and hunt Tarek in order for her to stay here.
Waleron’s answer was no and he hung up on him. Xamien seriously was beginning
to not like the guy.
Her eyes narrowed. “Well you’re a Taldeburu, Trace to the Realm and tell
the Wraiths.”
“A bit dramatic, don’t you think? Besides, it’s his decision,” Xamien
replied. “You’re part of his Talde, not mine. I can offer suggestions, but
nothing more. Ultimately, you should listen to him.”
“He doesn’t own me.” Her hair was up in a wide clip with a few tendrils
wet and hanging down the back of her black V-neck shirt. Her feet were bare and
there were still droplets of water clinging to her skin. Sexy. And off limits
while he was here.
Waleron did own her in a way. He was her boss and he held her heart, so
yeah, whether she wanted to believe it or not Waleron did own her, at least
partially. But it wasn’t enough to stop her from sleeping with whoever she
chose or from disappearing on occasion.
Xamien casually leaned up against the wall, ankles crossed, arms
matching. “We could be spending our time better than this, Kitten. If you come
to Spain, I promise to make you scream at least three times a day.”
She huffed, blowing air from her mouth and her jagged strands billowing
away from her face. God, he adored the way her upper lip quivered when she was
angry. He wondered if she knew she did that. Probably not. He was an observer
of people and often noticed the smallest of motions. Even her baby toes failed
to touch the ground when she stood, small and delicate keeping the sensitive
skin off the cold ceramic tiles.
Finding her irresistible, he pushed away from the wall and approached
her, his stance casual to avoid adding to the tension she already held within
her muscles. She backed away until her hips hit the narrow hallway table that
held a single stainless steel bowl. The jarring tipped over the bowl and it
clanged loudly.
“Xamien. Don’t you dare. Not here.”
“I can’t help myself, Kitten.” Before she escaped, which was viable
considering the word run pounded in
her head, he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her against him. The feel
of her body was delectable and it took everything in him to abstain from taking
her right there in the foyer. “Damn woman, I can’t be in the same room as you
without wanting to fuck you.”
She was tracking scents in the house, her head shifting in each direction
while at the same time pushing at his chest. “Seriously Xamien, this isn’t
funny. Let me go.”
“A kiss.” No way was he going to survive longer than one more night
without taking her to his bed. Without waiting for her reply, he grabbed the
back of her head and met her mouth with flurry, tasting the sweetness and spice
as his lips roamed over the luscious warmth. There was no urging required,
Delara sunk into him within seconds, the desire flooding them as everything
around them was forgotten.
Website http://www.cindypaterson.ca/
Please thank Cindy for joining us. Check out her websites and buy a book!
Keep Writing!
Jodie Pierce
Hi Jodie! WOW, thank you for the fantastic posting of FALL on its release day blitz. This love story I'm really close to and I'm excited sharing it with the readers. Hope everyone enjoys and thank you for having me on your blog.
ReplyDeleteCheers Cindy