On Tour Now!
Taran Wird holds the unique ability to conjure fire and lightning. She is mated to Gemini, Second in Command to the Squaw Valley Pack of the Lake Tahoe Region, and the sole werewolf to possess the ability to split into two wolves. And although they are mates, Taran’s insecurities have driven them apart.
Devastated by an injury that left her with a zombie-like limb, Taran struggles to regain command over her magic. But when her arm and her power turn against her, lashing out on those she most loves, she knows she can no longer carry this burden alone. Not that she likes the alternative.
The only way to regain control of her magic is to align and learn from the local coven of witches―the very ones who sought to banish her when she and her three unique sisters first moved to the mystical region. But although Taran is trying, the teachings don’t come easy, and the tasks leave her weak and emotionally shattered.
Yet Taran must learn and learn fast. Time is running out. The fire she once mastered so easily has become her greatest adversary and is now slowly burning her alive
I punch the wall harder, the effect causing another spark.
The zombies limp forward, closing in, reaching out.
I jerk from fear and pain when a root pokes me in the back. I can’t be too far from the surface. That doesn’t mean I can see a way out.
I punch at the wall, the small space I managed to put between me and the zombies quickly disappearing. Come on. Come on. Light.
A woman with no ears tugs at my hair.
A boy, no more than four grips my waist.
God damn it, light!
The long dark tunnel explodes in a wash of blue and white as my arm catches fire.
I gasp from its viciousness and its sudden arrival. “Okay, thanks,” I say, wishing I didn’t fear it as much as I do.
The zombies have stopped, appearing stunned as their absent stares focus on the light. I think that I’m in a good spot, and that at least for now, I’m safe and can find my family.
Until the little dead boy at my waist grabs my arm and detonates to ash.
My screams echo along the dirt tunnel, the sob that follows lodging in my chest when the zombies hurtle themselves forward and knock me down. Hands reach for me, batting at my skin. I think they’re trying to kill me. But it’s not until my arm blows them to bits that I realize they’re trying to re-die.
I push up on my legs, shoving the mounds of heavy ash away and take off running. I keep my arm out and away out of habit. Yet despite the intense heat, it’s not singeing me—not like before. But like moths to a flame, the zombies stagger forward.
They’re not fast, but neither am I. The stones poking through the ground make it hard to maneuver, and so does the narrowing tunnel. I’m sure I’m going the wrong way, and burying myself deeper, until I catch a small trace of sunlight in the distance.
The pitiful howls and the moans of the zombies overtake the small space. They’re close. All of them. But I don’t dare look back.
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After 17 years I've finally finished my BA in English (no I do not want to be a teacher). Before majoring in English I would not have touched anything labeled "classic", but I have enjoyed a few along the way in my college career.
While I hated to read growing up, I am now an avid book reader and audiobook listener. I love rejecting reality one book at a time. I only read fiction within my favorite (at least to date) genres which include: most romance (paranormal, contemporary, D/s, BDSM, M/M)Urban Fantasy, and a few YA (mostly PNR or UF from favorite adult authors, but I'm slowly stepping out of my comfort zone after enjoying a few contemporary YA novels in adolescent literature class I took).