Tour Review: Awaited by Lynn Rush (Giveaway)

Title: Awaited
Series: Wasteland #2
Author: Lynn Rush
Genre: New Adult Fiction, Supernatural Fiction
Elements: Angels, Demons
Publisher: Crescent Moon Press
Format: ARC PDF, 271 Pages
ISBN: 978-1-937254-21-6
Release Date: February 2012
Source: Tour Host {Bewitching Book Tours}
Rating: 4.5/5

Tagline(s): ~NONE~

Summary: Russell Leonard is a centuries-old Guardian who’s lost faith in his purpose. So when he’s charged with procuring the first female Guardian in over two centuries, he can only hope it’s the red-headed beauty who’s been haunting his dreams for months. And if it is, he intends to claim her as his. But when he finds his dream woman, Annabelle is mute and bears no Guardian’s Mark.

He soon realizes she’s been tainted by an ancient evil. Russell must somehow release the secrets trapped within this delicate soul to help her tap into the only weapon powerful enough to silence a millennia-old demon—her voice.

Review: 

Russell takes center stage in Awaited. We met Russell in Wasteland as Beka's "brother" and protector. In Awaited, Russell and Durk are on a plane on their way to search for the first female Guardian in over 200 years. When their plane crashes, they are the only survivors besides a mysterious young woman. This woman turns out to be the one Russell has been dreaming about for the past three months.

Annabelle Slater is a 19-year-old mute heiress who was kidnapped and tortured by demons when she was a young girl. When she was freed, she came back different. Dark mood swings, violent outbursts, and disturbing artwork were among the changes Annabelle came back with. Most disturbing is that when these things happen, Annabelle's eyes go completely black, like a demon's. One of Annabelle's vision-paintings was of Russell that she had done six years earlier.

In Awaited, we see the soul-weariness of a centuries-old warrior who has lost his faith in his mission. But when Russell meets the woman of his dreams in person, he feels reawakened. There is a lot of talk in this book about how love is the most powerful thing in the world and we really see how love does give someone a strength they never had before.

Awaited is a much darker sequel to Wasteland, where faith is lost and sometimes love isn't enough. The demons are doing experiments to gain back the power the lost when the Guardians got David. But even with everything seemingly falling apart and being destroyed, there is an air of hopefulness as the story progresses.

With surprise revelations, steamy but sweet romance, and heart-stopping action, Lynn Rush brings us a world where darkness may abound, but  love and Light are an unbeatable power. I have a feeling that the next and final book in the Wasteland Trilogy will be Jessica and Durk's story...something to look forward to!

Book Trailer:

 
About this Author:  

Driven to write, Lynn Rush often sees her characters by closing her eyes watching their story unfold in her mind. Lynn Rush is a pen name that is a combination of two sources – Lynn, the first name of her mother-in-law, who passed away and Rush – since the author is a former inline speed skater and mountain biker. All of Rush’s books are dedicated to Lynn, her namesake.

Rush holds a degree in psychology from Southwest Minnesota State University and a master's degree from the University of Iowa. Originally from Minneapolis, Rush currently enjoys living in the Arizona sunshine by road biking nearly 100 miles per week with her husband of 15 years and jogging with her two loveable Shetland Sheep dogs.

Connected with Lynn online

Catch the Rush: www.LynnRush.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/LynnRushWrites

Twitter: www.twitter.com/LynnRush

~~~See you in the paranormal~~~

ADD AWAITED TO YOUR GOODREADS TBR LIST!  

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/AAxAz4

MAIN EXCERPT on website: 

My feet finally found the water’s floor. I tugged the female from Durk’s grasp and hoisted her up into my arms.

The water had washed away the crimson stains, but left her lips thin and blue. Durk pressed his fingers to her neck. “No pulse.”

“Go. Find wood dry enough to burn. We need fire. I’ll start CPR.”

He bolted to his feet and darted away. I settled her on the damp foliage covered floor and ripped her buttoned blouse apart. I rested my ear to her chest. Nothing. Cheek to her mouth. Nothing.

I clamped my hands together and started counting out compressions. “Please. You can’t die. I just found you.”

Her chest caved beneath my weight with each push I offered to start her heart. Pumping it for her. She looked so cold. So small. So fragile. Darkness tainted her lips. I imagined they’d be full and bright red like in my dreams. Her glowing skin was now dull and lifeless.

Please. Michael.

There must have been a reason for me to be on this plane. This time. This date. This instance. Not to let me find someone I’d dreamt about, then to lose her.

I pinched her nose. With my other hand I cradled her neck and opened her mouth to mine. My lips formed a seal around hers, and I blew. Her chest raised. One more breath.

I turned my head, listening. Nothing.

I repeated it for another cycle. Durk returned holding an armful of branches. He ripped open his pack and pulled out a bag.

“Zip lock?”

“Jessica made an appearance at my room while packing.” He held it up. “I thought she’d lost her mind. Matches, magazine, and tiny foil blanket.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“Told me not to.”

Durk went to work on the fire as I finished the second round of compressions. I leaned down to breathe for her again and paused an inch before contact with her lips. “Please,” I whispered and sealed her mouth with mine.

I breathed into her, then turned and drew in a gulp of air and let it flow into her. A gentle scent of sandalwood and sugar wrapped around me. Coiled me in warmth. The woman flinched beneath me.

Then coughed.

I tilted her to the side and water spewed from her mouth. A tremor rocked her little body. The crackle of a flame, and the scent of burning leaves filled the air. “There you go. Get it out.” I patted her back.

She flopped back and her eyes opened wide.

The same honey irises I’d seen a hundred times in my dreams stared at me. “Can you hear me?”

The lids hung heavy over her dilated eyes, then slid shut.

“No. No. Stay with me.” I patted her shoulder.

Durk joined me, kneeling beside her on the other side. I pressed my finger to her neck.

“She’s got to be in shock. Freezing. Get that fire going.” I peeled my shirt over my head as I stood. “Find all you can to get a small shelter formed around the fire.” I ripped at the belt securing my soggy pants to me. “I’ll warm her up.”

Wasn’t exactly how I’d dreamed I would first lay with a woman, but I’d be damned if I was going to let her die.

She was mine. 

GIVEAWAY: 

 a Rafflecopter giveaway

BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THE PREQUEL TO THE WASTELAND SERIES!

**Short Story**

Prelude to Darkness

Wasteland, # .5

Release Date May 2012

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/wnP9zi 

For a slave, hope is a dangerous thing… 

Margaret Rousseau dreams of freedom from a life of servitude. When a mysterious woman saunters into the servants’ tavern promising the impossible, Margaret dares to hope she could win the heart of the one man she has secretly coveted since she first wore a corset...

The Prince.

Margaret desperately grasps for the opportunity to change her bleak destiny by placing faith in a woman who is not as forthcoming as she seems. Blinded to the stranger’s dark motives, Margaret surrenders herself to gain her heart’s desires.

But her choice may bring forth a darkness that could destroy all she holds dear.

Tour Hosted by Bewitching Book Tours

Tour Review: Wasteland by Lynn Rush

Title: Wasteland
Series: Wasteland #1
Author: Lynn Rush
Genre: New Adult Fiction, Supernatural Fiction
Elements: Demons, Angels
Publisher: Crescent Moon Press
Format: PDF, 263 Pages
ISBN: 978-1-937254-01-8
Release Date: August 1, 2011
Source: Tour Host {Bewitching Book Tours}
Rating: 4.5/5

Tagline(s): ~NONE~

Summary: Bound by the blood contract his human mother signed four centuries ago, half-demon David Sadler, must obey his demonic Master's order to capture fifteen-year-old Jessica Hanks. But as he learns more about her, he realizes she may be the key to freedom from his dark enslavement.

The only obstacle--Jessica's distractingly beautiful Guardian, Rebeka Abbott. He must not give in to their steamy chemistry, or he will lose his humanity. But fresh off a quarter millennia of sensory deprivation as punishment for not retrieving his last target, he may not be able to resist temptation long enough to save what's left of his human soul.

Review:

Wasteland isn't your average YA or Adult novel. It has everything you love about YA, but the maturity of an Adult novel. This puts Wasteland in the virtually unknown New Adult genre. The first half of the book has the grittiness of urban fantasy and gradually gets more of the fantastical elements of paranormal romance in the second half. Lynn Rush has created a world and characters that are so fascinating to read about. Each character has a depth that you don't find very often and it's exciting each time we learn something more about them.

Wasteland opens with David Sadler, a 400-year-old half-demon just released from his 245 year punishment of sensory deprivation for failing his last assignment, being thrown into sensory overload in an Arizona dance club searching for his next Mark. David's new Mark is 15-year-old orphan Jessica Hanks. Jessica bears the Mark of Elpida, and it's not only David's Master who wants her. Standing in his way are Guardians, Beka and Russell. They are there to protect Jessica from the demons.

Jessica is a being of pure Light, called the Merus, who can cleanse those who have not become fully demon. But if she falls into the wrong hands while going through her transformation, the opposite can happen. Jessica is David's only chance of being freed from his contract, signed by his mother before he was even born, so he has a choice to make. Take her to his Master and lose his freedom forever, or help the Guardians protect her and gain more than just his freedom.

(SPOILERS) There is a moment in Wasteland that was so terrifying, heartbreaking, hopeful, and powerful. This moment is my favorite part of the whole book. It's a turning point for both David and Beka. This is the moment when David is holding Beka's head to her neck, willing her to heal and live. It was so terrifying because Beka is on the ground with a sword thrust through her body and a blade at her neck, literally giving her life to protect Jessica, and you just know that the demon is going to behead her. It was heartbreaking because David is begging Beka to fight, but all he can do is watch as the demon swings his blade though her neck, watching as the woman he loves is being murdered right before his eyes. It's hopeful because, while David is helplessly willing Beka to live, she is healing and her heart begins to beat again. You can feel David's relief in knowing that she's going to live. And finally, this moment is so powerful because it shows the strength of David's love for Beka, but it's also David's breaking point. If Beka had died David would have had no reason to keep fighting his demon. It's also the moment when David and Beka became connected. When David was holding Beka together, their blood mixed together, effectively making their "hearts beat as one." That one line really sums everything up.

The feel of the book changes once David is changed into a Guardian Angel. Before his change you can feel the darkness surrounding him. You can feel his torment, his inner struggle, and his hopelessness. After his change you can feel the Light. You can feel his happiness, his love for Beka, and his dedication to his new cause. Atmosphere is important to a great story and Wasteland has an atmosphere you can literally feel.

Now that the Guardians have their King and Queen, the Dark Angel and White Angel, the demons have lost a lot of power. I can't wait to read Awaited and see what happens in the next adventure.

About this Author:

Driven to write, Lynn Rush often sees her characters by closing her eyes watching their story unfold in her mind. Lynn Rush is a pen name that is a combination of two sources – Lynn, the first name of her mother-in-law, who passed away and Rush – since the author is a former inline speed skater and mountain biker. All of Rush’s books are dedicated to Lynn, her namesake.

Rush holds a degree in psychology from Southwest Minnesota State University and a master's degree from the University of Iowa. Originally from Minneapolis, Rush currently enjoys living in the Arizona sunshine by road biking nearly 100 miles per week with her husband of 15 years and jogging with her two loveable Shetland Sheep dogs.

Connected with Lynn online

Catch the Rush: www.LynnRush.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/LynnRushWrites

Twitter: www.twitter.com/LynnRush

~~~See you in the paranormal~~~

Buy Links:

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/k6NAZa  

Amazon:  http://amzn.to/pavzwE

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/pbigOg

QUOTES and TEASERS from AWAITED:

 

Annabelle looked down at me with smiling eyes. Like from my dreams. Actually, this very moment reminded me of a dream from only two nights before I boarded that fatal flight. Darkness surrounded her, yet her face, no her smile, beamed as if highlighted by the moon above. Strands of hair shifted in the breeze making for a bronzed halo around her illuminated face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I paused, raining kisses at her throat, wishing they’d coax her voice box into working. I pressed my forehead to hers, working to catch my breath. “Let me hear you, Belle. Talk with me.”

A tear glistened and carved a path over her cheek. What had they done to her that she would choose to be forever silent?

CHECK OUT THE PREQUEL TO THE WASTELAND SERIES!

**Short Story**

Prelude to Darkness

Wasteland, # .5

Release Date May 2012

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/wnP9zi 

For a slave, hope is a dangerous thing… 

Margaret Rousseau dreams of freedom from a life of servitude. When a mysterious woman saunters into the servants’ tavern promising the impossible, Margaret dares to hope she could win the heart of the one man she has secretly coveted since she first wore a corset...

The Prince.

Margaret desperately grasps for the opportunity to change her bleak destiny by placing faith in a woman who is not as forthcoming as she seems. Blinded to the stranger’s dark motives, Margaret surrenders herself to gain her heart’s desires.

But her choice may bring forth a darkness that could destroy all she holds dear.

Tour Hosted by Bewitching Book Tours

Tour Review: Stealing Breath by Joanne Brothwell (Promo+Giveaway)

Title: Stealing Breath
Series: Stealing Breath #1
Author: Joanne Brothwell
Genre: New Adult Fiction, Supernatural Fiction
Elements: Psychic Abilities, Warlocks
Publisher: Crescent Moon Press
Format: PDF, 238 Pages
ISBN: 978-1-937254-33-9
Release Date: March 8, 2012
Source: Tour Host {Bewitching Book Tours}
Rating: 5/5

Tagline(s): ~NONE~

Summary: Deep in the backwoods of North Dakota, twenty-one year old Sarah Ross is searching for a missing child when she is attacked by a glowing-eyed, transparent...creature. Sarah survives, destroying the monster by using mysterious abilities she didn't even know she had.

Bloody and bruised, Sarah flees the scene and runs directly into Evan Valente, a handsome, charismatic stranger who helps her back to safety. But what is Evan doing out in the forest at five in the morning?

Turning to a healer, Sarah is shocked to learn her eyes bear the mark of the Indigo Child--an evolved human with the ability to feel the emotions of others. But her indigo aura also makes her an easy target for those who wish to consume her powerful essence.

Soon, Sarah is falling deeply in love with Evan and wants nothing more than to follow her heart and trust that he is the man he says he is. But she can't ignore the lingering feeling that Evan is hiding a terrible secret. The deeper she digs, the more danger she faces, leading her on a course that will force her to face the darkest, innermost parts of her soul.

Review:

Sarah Ross is an empath, which means that she has the ability to feel the emotions of others. Her ability is so strong that the emotions can be overwhelming sometimes. But after an attack by a mysterious creature in an abandoned house in the woods, Sarah meets Evan Valente who helps her get back to her campsite. The odd thing is that she feels none of Evan's emotions. Though Sarah has reservations about trusting Evan, she can't stay away from him.

When Sarah visits a Native American healer, she learns that she's not just an empath, but an Indigo Child as well. An Indigo Child is an evolved human with special powers, such as Sarah's empathy. Even stranger is that when Sarah and Evan touch, the power between them increases and they can do even more extraordinary things together. There is definitely something different about Evan, and when Sarah learns the truth about him, she'll have to decide if she's still willing to trust him or if she'll need to run to get away from him.

Joanne Brothwell uses Native American and Italian folklore by introducing us to the Native American Skinwalkers and the Italian Benandanti (good walkers) and the Malandanti (bad walkers). The Stregheria are witches and warlocks in Italy who are either good walkers or bad walkers. The good walkers were hunted into extinction for suspicion of witchcraft, but the bad walkers managed to survive the hunts. The Valente family is actually the last of the Italian bad walkers to survive.

This is actually only the second story I've read that had Skinwalkers as the supernatural element, so it's a new and interesting element to use. I love the use of folklore in Stealing Breath. It gives a richness to the story and gives us some insight into the Native American and Italian cultures.

I also really liked Sarah and Evan's relationship. They have a strong connection, but also have a lot of problems too. There's a point where Sarah learns the truth about Evan, and even though it hurts her to do it because she loves him, she forces herself to walk away from him. But a surprise revelation about Evan that even he didn't know about makes Sarah realize that maybe he's not as bad as they both thought him to be. So their relationship isn't perfect and has it's share of ups and downs, but the imperfections of their relationship is what makes it so perfect. It doesn't seem rushed or instantaneous. It takes time and effort to make their relationship work.

Stealing Breath is a part of a genre that doesn't get much attention. You can't put this book in the Young Adult genre or the Adult genre. It lands somewhere in the middle. I asked the author what genre she would put Stealing Breath into and she brought to my attention a genre called New Adult fiction. I was so intrigued by this new genre that I looked it up and found that New Adult fiction is a genre for novels that land between YA and Adult. The characters are usually between the ages of 18-26 and are just coming into adulthood. They are either just starting college or a new career after graduating high school. So Stealing Breath fits perfectly into this virtually unknown genre.

I'm really excited to read about what happens next for Sarah and Evan. Will they ever be able to settle in one place and live normal lives or will they have to continue running from those who want to possess their strong and powerful essences?

Book Trailer:

 
About this Author:

Joanne Brothwell is the author Stealing Breath, a paranormal romance from Crescent Moon Press, who has also published Vicarious, the prequel to Stealing Breath. Joanne lives in the country with her family where her stories are inspired by the dead things that appear at her doorstep on a daily basis. You can find her online at www.joannebrothwell.com

LINKS:

Blog:

http://joannebrothwell.blogspot.com/

YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/JoanneBrothwell

Twitter:

@JoanneBrothwell

Facebook:

Author Joanne Brothwell

http://www.facebook.com/JoanneBrothwell

Joanne Brothwell

http://www.facebook.com/people/Joanne-Brothwell/577061211

Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/5672191-joanne-brothwell

EXCERPT- CHAPTER 1

I awoke to rustling outside my tent. The crunching of footsteps on gravel, twigs and branches snapping. Was that a voice? I lay motionless inside my sleeping bag, heart pounding, listening.

“Help.” A disembodied whisper. Was it right outside? I strained to hear but the throbbing pulse in my head drowned everything else out. I sat up. The atmosphere within the domed tent was wet, ripe with morning breath. The tip of my nose was cold as an icicle.

“Help.” The murmur came a second time, more audible than the last. I was sure it was a child’s voice. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be the voice of the eight year-old, Jessica Crow, who had gone missing from the neighboring Indian Reservation three days ago?

I thought of the drive out to the campgrounds when my friends, Amber, Kate, and I had been listening to the radio report on the status of the missing girl from the Wakina Reservation.

Poor Amber. Once again, she’d cried at the reminder of her third cousin, Jessica, lost and alone in the forest. Everyone in the community, including Amber, had been searching for her night and day but had found nothing. I’d practically dragged Amber along camping, telling her she needed a night off from her worries. It was a hard sell, but she’d finally agreed.

I glanced at where Kate and Amber should have been laying, but their sleeping bags and pillows were missing. The last I’d seen them had been around the bonfire at two in the morning. They could have ended up crashing just about anywhere, and I wasn’t about to go peeking into random tents to find them.

Having fallen asleep in my jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I slipped on my jacket and shoes, pulled the ponytail holder off my wrist and wrapped my hair into a tight bun. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Then, unzipping the door flap of the dome tent, I stuck just my head out.

Nothing was out of place. Empty cooler bottles atop the picnic table, charred wood in the fire-pit, and the car we came in. Every campsite around us was nearly silent. The sounds of late-night make-out sessions, pounding music, and yelling were replaced by the occasional snore.

Using my empathy, I focused on trying to pick up on the emotions of any lucid person around, hoping I would hone in on Jessica’s emotions. Normally, the waking feelings of others hit me like a gale force wind, without my even trying. In fact, it had always felt like a bit of a curse that I was a walking sponge for other people’s pain. But right now, all I felt was…nothing.

The voice had seemed right outside the tent. Could I have imagined it?

I slipped out. A low, white fog blanketed the earth, enveloping the world in silence. The temperature hovered around freezing, way too cold for camping. And last night’s vodka was no longer taking the edge off. I shivered.

After checking around the cars and circling the campsite, I started down the road. Inside the forest, the eerie glow of early morning and the cool fog blanched the world a ghostly white. The moist nip in the air sharpened the scent of pine needles that littered the camp ground. I continued down the road for about ten feet until it led to the mouth of a hiking trail.

Now that I was half-frozen and shivering, the May long weekend at the campgrounds of Greater Slave Lake, North Dakota, seemed like a very stupid idea, even if it was the annual spring kick-off party.

“Help!” the diminutive voice called out again, this time, louder.

The memory of Jessica’s face flashed through my mind when I’d met her last summer; honey-brown eyes and springy hair that always stuck up around her head with static, and her sweet smile, part baby teeth intermixed with adult teeth. She was such a sweet, innocent child. If she had survived this long, she could be dangerously close to death from cold. My heart battered against my chest wall, and I fought off the urge to start running, directionless, into the bush to find her.

The voice had originated from further within the tree-line, I was sure of it. Closer now, yet still far away. I entered the trail and headed straight.

“Jessica?” I called out. No response but the echo of my own voice from the trees around me.

The trail was straight and narrow for well over a hundred feet, the trees like two solid walls of green on either side of me. Then the trail began to snake back and forth until it forked into several side-trails. I stopped to listen.

A dry crackle emerged from the trail to my right, and I immediately followed the sound. This far into the forest it was darker, the only light filtered through evergreens and fog. I looked back. The vapor had closed in behind me, obscuring the pathway like a curtain of white. Shivering transformed into shaking.

Despite running these trails in the early morning numerous times, today it looked different. I cursed under my breath and shoved my hands into my pockets.

“Hello?” I called, my voice immediately diminishing, muffled by the woods. Other than the odd bird chirp and frog croak, the forest was quiet. If the voice really had been Jessica, she would need help and most likely immediate medical attention. I forced myself forward.

The trail wound to and fro, the brush dense, the fog almost material as it clung to the spruce needles. The path grew thin and sparse, barely enough room to place one foot in front of the other, with the way the underbrush encroached on the trail. I stumbled on twigs and logs as branches clawed my cheeks and pulled my hair. I began to trip, reaching out for something to hang onto. I fell, my hand forced into a thorny bush.

Damn it! I stood up and peered at my scraped hand, blood beading out of paper-cut sized scrapes. I’d been out here for at least ten minutes, but still, I heard nothing but the crunch of my feet snapping the twigs underfoot and my breath echoing through my own head. Ready to turn around and head back to my tent, the high-pitched voice rang out once again.

“Help.”

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