Book Review of Brink of
Eternity
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BRINK OF ETERNITY
Novella: approximately 153
pages
Blurb
:
Discover powerful winged vampire warriors, the Guardians of Ascension,
and the women they’re sworn to protect!
Warrior Gideon swore he would never
see Elise Jordan again even though they’d been passionate lovers for two
years. Her human nature couldn’t survive
in his ascended vampire world; she would be vulnerable to attack on every front
if he tried to continue a relationship with her. But when Elise starts having visions of the
future of Gideon’s sister hunted by death vampires, Gideon can no longer ignore
that Elise is in her Call to Ascension, her call to become a vampire. Though determined to keep her at bay, the
infamous breh-hedden, an
all-consuming vampire bonding ritual, wraps him up tight and demands that he
protect Elise. As he strives to keep her
alive during her Rite of Ascension, love threatens to overwhelm his carefully
ordered, war-weary world.
Reader, please note: BRINK OF
ETERNITY was published under a different cover, same title, in July of
2011. The content is the same.
About the
Author:
I was ten
when I first watched an old movie version of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE and loved
it! Movies led to books, which led to
writing and after a good long while, publishing. I wrote sweet Regency romance for Kensington
for 19 years and recently fell in love with paranormal, although I’ve always
had a thing for vampires. I currently
write paranormal romance for St. Martin’s Press but I self-publish as
well. Building an online platform has
been an enormous but rewarding challenge.
I think all the changes in publishing will alter how authors approach
the business going forward and I for one am thrilled to have so many options.
Caris Roane has published over fifty Regency romance novels
and novellas under the pen name, Valerie King.
In 2005, Romantic Times gave her a Career Achievement award in Regency
Romance. Having had a long-time love
affair with vampires, Caris tackled the paranormal genre and built a unique
vampire world based on ascending dimensional earths. Her series is called Guardians of Ascension.
Her most recent self-published project, The Blood Rose Novella Series,
launched in May of 2012 with the first title: Embrace the Dark.
Currently, Caris is working on a new vampire series set to
launch in the Fall of 2013: WARRIORS
IN CHAINS with the first novel, BORN
IN CHAINS.
Caris lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her two cats, Sebastien
and Gizzy.
Contacts:
Website: http://carisroane.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/carisroane
BUY NOW LINK:
·
Amazon Kindle copy
Everyone who purchases the “BRINK OF ETERNITY' book
will receive a free copy of “Guardians of Ascension.” Simply email your Proof of purchase of “BRINK
OF ETERNITY' to Caris and she will send you a free e-book of Guardians of
Ascension. Here is her E-mail carisroane@gmail.com .
Giveaway
Excerpt:
BRINK OF
ETERNITY
A Dawn of
Ascension Novella
#1
Gideon and
Elise
Reader,
please note: BRINK OF ETERNITY was published under a different cover, same
title, in July of 2011. The content is
the same.
What
is eternal, but that which holds within its essence the shining light of hope.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
Chapter
One
While
standing in her office, preparing to leave for the night, a vision came to
Elise Jordan, a sequence of events that threatened the life of someone she
knew. She tried to shut the images down, to stop the flow, something she could
normally do. But this vision would not be denied. She saw it through to the
end, which was not an end at all, just that point at which the woman, if left
on her own, would surely die.
Now
she had a decision to make and a vampire to contact, something she had promised
herself she would never do.
Elise
thrived on order and routine. She enjoyed having a firm schedule. She was the
only person she knew who had a genial relationship with her alarm clock.
Everything
about this vision, however, invited chaos, the very thing she strove to avoid
every day of her existence.
She
sighed. She didn’t really have a choice, not if she was to live with her
conscience. Funny how her conscience, and not desire or drive or hope or even
fear, would dictate her future. Just guilt. Good old-fashioned guilt.
She finished up in her
office, going through her ritual: wiping down the counters, checking the
optical refractor, frowning because she needed to buy a new one, bringing
forward the small trash can beneath her desk to make sure the building
maintenance people found it and emptied it. She stared at the trash can. Would
she even be here after the weekend?
On Friday night, a
single woman should be going out, maybe with girlfriends, maybe to a regular
bar, meeting men, meeting normal men,
not tracking down former vampire warrior boyfriends from other dimensions. Two
or three expletives, a habit learned from said boyfriend, flowed through her
mouth and hit the air.
She took off her
professional white coat, folded it up, and put it in her tote. She had a stock
of coats so that she could rotate them through the cleaners. She never wore the
same coat twice in a row. She liked everything fresh, clean, in its place, which
meant that what she was about to do went against the grain.
She never went against
the grain. Except for Gideon. Gideon in all respects, in every sense, had been
totally and irrefutably against the grain.
The last one to leave,
she set the alarm, then locked the door to the building. She had a thriving
practice that she shared with several other optometrists. Imagine, a
clairvoyant setting up shop as an optometrist. Talk about overkill.
She headed to her car,
her very sensible Audi, white, of course, against the endless months of strong
Phoenix sunshine.
Once inside, she buckled
up. In April, the temp hovered in the mid-eighties during the day, so she
needed a couple minutes of air conditioning to take the day’s heat off the
vehicle. She started the engine and powered up the A/C.
She sat for a minute
staring through the windshield at nothing in particular. She leaned her
forehead against the steering wheel. She took deep breaths. The hum of the
motor and rush of air eased her nerves. Sort of.
Oh, God. Was she really
going to do this, open the lid to Pandora’s box, let out all that chaos?
Courage, Elise.
Whatever.
She didn’t have a
choice. She really didn’t. Someone’s life hung in the balance. If she felt the
routine of her life slipping away, too bad.
She sat back in the seat
and withdrew her iPhone from her simple gray leather purse. She touched the
screen and brought up Gideon’s number. She touched the screen again. The
ringtone chimed along, not caring that she resented the hell out of this
conundrum.
“Elise, what’s wrong?”
Oh, God his voice. So
deep. Her body knew that voice, every varied resonant timbre. She rocked her
hips forward, trying to get more comfortable, trying not to feel so damn much,
trying to push all that sudden familiar desire away.
“Elise?”
“Sorry.” Her voice
sounded hoarse. “I never meant to use this number.”
“I know. But that’s why
I gave it to you. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I had a vision.”
“What? Wait a minute.
You … had a vision?”
“Yes. Long story, that.”
She wanted him, just this once, to go with the flow. Fat chance. Neither of
them really understood the concept of flow.
“What do you mean you
had a fucking vision? As in, you saw
the future?” Yep, no flow.
She rolled her tongue
around her mouth. More guilt. “In all our time together, I might have forgotten
to mention that I’m clairvoyant. I get visions. I see the future.”
She heard him breathe
for the space of eight long seconds. “You’re fucking clairvoyant and you’re
just telling me now?”
She had to pull the
phone away from her ear. All those familiar expletives rattled through the
airwaves and burned up the inside of her car. She sighed again. A cursed tear
slid from her right eye. Another from the left made the same unhappy journey.
“Can you be mad later?”
she asked. “I don’t like this any more than you do. But I have something
critical I need to tell you.”
Another eight seconds
passed, filled with his muttering this time, deep and low. “Fine.” Crisp,
brittle, mad as hell. “Give.”
The issue rose up, a
solid wall in her chest. She had nothing to give, except guilt. “I had a vision
about your sister. About Rachel.”
“Fuck.”
She cut through another
string of expletives. “Some really bad guys will be after her tomorrow at dusk;
you know, longish dark hair, pale-bluish skin. You call them pretty-boys.”
“Elise, you’re killing
me here. Are you saying what you’re saying? Are you telling me that you know
about death vampires?”
Dread worked claw-like
fingers into her chest and grabbed hold. She really didn’t want to do this, to
reveal the truth. “Yes, Gideon, I retained all the memories you believe you
wiped. Death vampires, otherwise called pretty-boys because of their overall
beauty, alignment of features, extraordinary power, long dark hair, and glossy
black wings, evidence that these monsters drink people to death in order to get
at the highly addictive dying blood. And they’re known as ‘boys’ because most
death vamps are male, though women cross the line, too, just not as often.”
No seconds this time.
“Shit.” He repeated this word a few more times and again she pulled the phone
away from her ear. She let him mull all these truths around, unspoken from the
beginning of their relationship, that she knew all about the multi-dimensional
world of ascension, that she had a boatload of preternatural power, and that
she had never truly been honest with him.
The long silence that
followed brought a couple more tears.
“Okay,” he said. “What
exactly happens in this vision of yours?”
“Three death vampires
fly over a ridge of tall trees, pines maybe, or redwoods. I don’t recognize the
place, but there’s a clearing, a small river, bigger than a stream, lots of
rocks on the banks, hills, more trees, a real forest. And there are two
bridges, small bridges.”
“You said this takes
place tomorrow? How do you know?”
“I just know. Late
afternoon, almost at dusk.”
Long, long pause, “Meet
me at the Blood and Bite. Tell me when you can get there.” He didn’t ask. He
commanded. But what else was new?
“An hour and a half. I
have to go home and change.”
“Fine. And Elise?”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to talk.”
More commands, but then
Gideon wasn’t just your average Militia Warrior serving Second Earth. He was
high in the ranks, answering only to Colonel Seriffe, who headed the Militia
Warriors in Metro Phoenix Two, and when the occasion demanded, the militia
worldwide.
This time, she paused.
After a couple more deep breaths, she said, “I don’t want to, but I will.”
The time had come.
* * * * * *
* * *
Gideon hung up. He
stared at his phone. Jesus, his hand shook.
He stood in the stone
foyer of his home in north Scottsdale Two, Second Earth, like a suit of armor,
unmoving and rigid. He couldn’t even blink. He didn’t know which thought to
have first, that Elise possessed previously unacknowledged preternatural power
or that his sister faced certain danger.
When some life started
flowing back into his limbs, he touched the screen of his Droid a couple of
times. He waited. His sister’s voice came on the line.
“Hey, Gid.” Okay, she
sounded upbeat but he knew Rachel. She could front with the best of them, a
family trait. She hid her unhappiness about living on Second Earth really well.
He worked his jaw, then
finally said, “You’re not thinking of doing anything foolish, are you?”
When silence returned,
he pressed the phone against his thigh, closed his eyes and shouted one long
“fuck” at the ceiling. He drew his phone back up to his ear. “Please don’t,
Rachel, I’m begging you. Don’t do it. How can I keep you safe if you do this?”
“First, it’s not your
job to keep me safe. I’m a big girl. Second, I don’t know what you’re talking
about.” The slight tinny quality to her voice failed to escape his ear.
“Liar.”
“I’m late for my yoga
class.”
“On Friday night?”
“Why not?”
He debated his next
course of action for about three seconds. “You might be in trouble, as in big
trouble.”
She laughed. “As in
you’re giving me a Seer warning.”
“Maybe.”
“What?” She said it in
that tone of hers, with the pitch angling up at the end. “Why would I show up
in the future streams?”
“More like a clairvoyant
vision and no, I don’t really know the difference, but my source called it a
vision. Beyond that, you know why. You have more power than you’ve ever
admitted.”
“More Second Earth
bullshit, brother.”
“I know you’re not happy
here.” Rachel believed that no human should even possess, not to mention make
use of, any form of preternatural power, and she thought Second Earth, as an ascended world at war, was one huge-ass
piece of hypocrisy. She was into peace and
love and vegan food. And she really
hated that her own brother served as a Militia Warrior. So, yes, she was
unhappy.
“Understatement,” she said.
“Okay. Fine. But could
you stay put for a day or two until I figure out a couple of things?”
The night was full of
dead air spaces. He heard her take a deep breath through her nose. “I’ve heard
of a rogue colony in northern California, and that’s all I’m going to say.”
“Rachel, no.”
“Well, gotta go. Love you, Gid, so much, but
my instructor scowls if I cross the threshold past seven.”
“Whatever,” he
responded, but only because he was talking to the screen of his phone. Rachel
had already hung up.
Sweet Jesus. Every word
out of his sister’s mouth just confirmed at least part of Elise’s prophecy. He
didn’t doubt for a second that his sister was going rogue.
Thousands of vampires
left Second Earth to live in exile on Mortal Earth. He just never thought his
sister would join those ranks.
And how the hell was he
to protect her if she went rogue? She could say whatever she wanted to say, but
death vampires hunted vulnerable women who tracked life alone, like culling the
weak from the herd.
He also knew that
powerful ascenders like Rachel had light signatures that could show up on HQ’s
electronic surveillance grid. He could contact Bev, who worked the grid all
night, and have her start checking for power signatures over northern
California.
He withdrew the thin,
credit card–sized warrior phone from the pocket of his jeans. He swiped the
front and a moment later Bev came on the phone.
“What’s doin’, Gideon?”
He smiled. Bev’s voice soothed him, but then the women chosen to work HQ’s
command center had that special calming quality, a necessary skill when dealing
with disaster and horror on every other call.
“Hey, Bev. I have a
situation.”
“How can I help?” There
it was, the words he needed to hear.
“I’ve just been tipped
off about a rogue colony in northern California.”
“Is it possible this is
a lair?”
“My source indicated
there were no death vampires present. Definitely a colony. And … this is critical.”
“I’ll set up the grid
right now. May take a few hours to identify significant power signatures.”
“Give me a shout when
you find something.”
“Will do.”
He hung up and sucked in
another deep breath.
Now for the other side
of the equation.
* * * * * *
* * *
An hour later, Gideon
leaned against the tall side of the nearest red velvet booth at the Blood and
Bite. His skin twitched.
Fighting and making war
shaped his days and nights. As a Militia Warrior, he battled death vampires six
nights out of seven every fucking week of his life, serving and protecting. He
could handle wielding a sword, but waiting for his ex gave him the scratch.
Beyond that, could he
believe a woman so made up of lies?
This last thought went
straight to his hands. He watched them ball up into fists. He closed his eyes,
took a deep breath, then shook out his hands. He needed to calm the hell down.
He hadn’t seen Elise for
a month. Talk about hell. He had no special attachment to her, but he couldn’t
exactly sleep at night and his thoughts ran to her more often than not.
Fuck. Breakups were
hard. That’s all.
He opened his eyes and
once more scrutinized the entrance to the club in case Elise had arrived.
Unattached Militia
Warriors milled around waiting for the next female to arrive. Mortal women came
in droves to the Blood and Bite. Once they left, they might have foggy memories
of exactly what happened on the club’s premises, enthrallment being a beautiful
thing to a vampire, but rarely did a woman leave without a smile on her face.
That fulfillment brought them back every time.
For the most part, the
warriors held to the rigid club rules: no deep enthrallment, consensual sex
only, mind-altering mist over the openings to each booth to sustain privacy, no
voyeurism except in the case of a superior officer checking out rumors of
misconduct.
As a section leader for
the Phoenix Two Militia Warriors, he had to investigate even the whiff of an
infraction. Every once in a while, he prosecuted warriors who crossed the line.
He glanced to his right
in the direction of the dance floor. The DJ kicked up the Black Eyed Peas and
the strobes made those couples dancing look like zombies on crack.
He caught a scent and
stiffened from head to toe.
He knew Elise had
arrived because the air in the hot, sweaty club suddenly smelled of
strawberries, ripe, lush, sweet, juicy strawberries. She had a scent meant just
for him, an anomaly in their relationship, since specific mutual scents didn’t
occur in the usual course of ascended vampire life. In fact, the only known
case of the phenomenon had occurred recently when a myth, which proved to be
not a myth, afflicted one of the elite Warriors of the Blood.
That Gideon could scent
Elise had always troubled him. What did it mean that she gave off a scent he
could detect? Was this a case of the infamous breh-hedden? Impossible, on so many levels. For one thing, the breh-hedden was supposed to be a myth.
And for another, only Warriors of the Blood were known through all those
ancient myths and legends to have experienced the ritual.
What-the-fuck-ever.
Even thinking about the
WOTBs, otherwise known as WhatBees among his ranks, also gave him the scratch.
Those assholes just couldn’t stay out of Militia Warrior business. The next
time he found one of them disciplining one
of his men, he’d not hold back, not even a little. Sure, the WhatBees had a
place, but not on his turf. They served Madame Endelle directly, answered only
to her as the ruler of Second Earth.
Right now, they were
lined up at the bar, pretty as you please. Assholes.
Okay, so he was a little
on edge and he should think nicer thoughts, because they did lay it on the line
every night. That they had advanced powers was just the luck of the fucking
draw. But courage for courage, give him a Militia Warrior every damn time.
When Elise’s strawberry
scent once more rolled in his direction, his body reacted, as it always did, as
though her scent punched into all his pheromone receptors at exactly the same
moment. Punched, then punched again.
Thank God for the
strobes. He didn’t have to worry about any of the other Militia Warriors
thinking he was interested.
He pushed away from the
bank of tall-backed red velvet booths and headed toward the entrance. When he
reached her, two Militia Warriors hovered over her, attempting a thrall. He
might have laughed, because no way could either of these bozos bust past her
shields.
But amusement didn’t
exactly sum up his feelings right now. Instead, the sight of two men hitting on
a woman he would always think of as his
woman brought his head down and his fists up.
“Move it or lose it,” he
said. “This woman’s taken.”
The first warrior jerked
back in his direction ready to do battle, then looked up. “Shit, Gideon.
Sorry.” He turned and headed toward the dance floor.
The other one backed away
almost as fast.
Smart vampires.
He looked at the woman
whose body he knew every which way from Sunday, and all those familiar
sensations rushed back at him, her under him, her on top of him, her lips
around him, taking him deep. God, he missed her. Even standing in front of her,
yeah, he missed her. And he blamed her for his goddamn celibacy as well. For
the last month, since their breakup, he’d been off blood and sex, which might
just account for his current temper.
“Gideon,” she said, in
that controlled way of hers. Her voice, low and melodic, did him in every damn
time.
The music had just
cranked up again. More Black Eyed Peas. He leaned close and spoke against her
ear. “I’ve got a booth.”
She drew back and
nodded. She looked tight around her eyes, even angry. What the hell did she
have to be angry about? He was the wounded party here.
She moved to the right,
in the direction of the booths. He crowded her, his hip up against her hip, his
hand at her back, then around her shoulder, pulling her close to keep her from
touching other men. Shit, he couldn’t control his instincts around her. But how
was that anything new?
He was so screwed.
When he drew her up next
to the booth, she looked up at him and frowned. “You actually reserved this booth?”
He nodded. “Why, not? I
figured you owed me one helluva an explanation, so why not here? After all,
this is where you spoke and acted out all those fucking lies.”
* * * * * *
* * *
Elise stretched her
preternatural vision just a little so that the strobes didn’t impact her view
of him. She saw him as though bathed in a warm light. But this was a mistake,
because she could see him, really see him, and what she saw struck her down as
it had from the beginning, as though she was looking at the only man on two earths
that could ever do it for her.
His sheer physical
presence never failed to surprise her. He was warrior tall at six-five, lean
and heavily muscled. He wore a snug T-shirt and jeans, a look she loved on him.
He had broad shoulders and thick pecs made for biting and sucking. She knew his
biceps well; they were fit for holding on to when he drove into her.
She loved his dark blond
hair, which flowed away from his face, neither long like the Warriors of the Blood, nor short like
most Militia Warriors’, but somewhere in between as though Gideon was in
between.
But of all his many
physical attributes, she loved his eyes the best. They were dark blue and
stormy like waters in some northern sea. He had only to look at her, hold her
gaze, and he could command her—not because he enthralled her, but because
looking into his eyes was like looking into his soul and that was the real
problem. She liked what she saw.
Gideon was like no man
she knew. He was a warrior, a Militia Warrior, who were also called Thunder God
Warriors after an Apache expression. He served the ruler of Second Earth as a
frontline soldier in the war against death vampires. He had the commitment and
dedication of the disciplined military mind.
She turned, ready to
slide into the booth, but there, waiting for them both, was the usual: her
reddish Cosmo and his Glenlivet neat.
Memories rushed back to
her and she weaved on her feet so that he caught her elbow. “Hey,” he
whispered. “You okay?”
Damn and damn. Why did
he have to prove his worth by having their drinks ready and waiting and why did
she have to remember all the ways he’d made love to her as though time was just
one big well-oiled, revolving door?
A shiver traveled
straight through her and a wave of his scent, his gorgeous, sexy, toffee scent,
flowed over her shoulder. A few of her learned expletives once more sped through her mind.
She swallowed hard,
pulled her elbow out of his grasp and half scooted, half fell into the booth.
She caught herself with hands on the strong red leather of the seat. She turned
her near-topple into a quick glide and move to sit at the back of booth.
Hopefully, he would keep his distance and sit adjacent to her. The last thing
she wanted was his body next to hers.
She slid her Cosmo toward her, then took a drink. She should have sipped, but right now she could use a little added courage.
She slid her Cosmo toward her, then took a drink. She should have sipped, but right now she could use a little added courage.
She took a deep breath.
Now to explain all the
lies.
Review
I cannot
possibly do this book justice, it simply must be read for yourself. It is amazing.
I give
this book 5 out of 5 clouds.
This
product or book may have been distributed for review; this in no way affects my
opinions or reviews.
I adore Caris Roane!!!
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