Happy Monday, peeps!
I'm so excited to finally reveal the cover of Hanaford Park #3, Faythe Reclaimed!
Check it out!
Running through a strange forest with a bloodthirsty demon hot on her heels wasn’t Taylor’s idea of a rockin’ evening. Then again, neither was soaring backward through time and space. Time travel chafed and left a rank, nasty aftertaste. So, when she finds herself floundering amidst a sea of Commandment-loving holy rollers who fling accusations of witchcraft and bedevilment like hotcakes in a diner, finding her way home jumps to the top of her to do list. Too bad she can’t remember who she is or where she came from. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Taylor realizes she’s fallen for Gabriel, the mysterious Latin warlock who came to her rescue.Battling an identity crisis and lost in a time that’s not her own, Taylor is determined to find her way back to twenty-first century Hanaford Park. But first, she and Gabriel must work together to uncover the dark scourge lurking in the shadows of Salem Village, and in doing so, save their lives, and the lives of countless innocents from a lethal date with the hangman’s noose.
And to tease you, I'm going to post an excerpt from the first chapter. Woot! Hope you enjoy!
This portion of text is taken from The Traveler's pov:
Dark, viscous liquid pooled onto the rotting floorboards below her body, the blackened puddle oddly reminiscent of a Rorschach inkblot.
Suppressed memories and emotions I’d believed long dead amassed from deep within, slamming me with a powerful crescendo of…Madre de Dios…feeling. Something I hadn’t experienced since the moment I’d lost my other half.
Nausea and desperation mimicked acid, burning a hole through my gut and my chest as I allowed my gaze to wander north. I knew what I’d find, and…fuck it all to hell…it scared me to death.
Taylor. The exotic beauty who’d breezed into my life just days before. The angel who’d awoken me from the state of numbness I’d resided in for three centuries. The woman who was an exact match in every way to my long deceased Faythe, hanged upside down and unconscious in front of me.
My heartbeat… It echoed in my ears like a muted drumbeat. The rapid tympani so synonymous with anger and rage oddly diminished and muffled as though I were listening to it from deep within the bowels of the ocean.
How? How had I allowed my enemy to capture the beautiful creature who’d breathed life into my pathetic existence?
I thrashed against the magical bonds holding me captive, every fiber of my being filled with panic, desperation—and rage. Supernatural throwdowns were a normal part of my everyday life. A warlock, an exiled member of one of Europe’s most powerful covens, I’d been bred to do battle, to fight the dregs of the underworld—with magic.
Magic. It had been my saving grace, time and again. It was also the bane of my fucking existence…much like time. I hated my magic, almost as much as I hated myself. Witchcraft, limitless power…both proved worthless when they didn’t allow you to save the one you loved. My magic hadn’t kept Faythe’s neck out of the hangman’s noose.
My stomach seized as I took in the large gash at the back of Taylor’s head. My magic hadn’t kept her safe either.
Slow, heavy footfalls sounded in the far off distance, and it wasn’t until a pair of black shoes slid into view opposite the crimson puddle staining the floor that I was able to tear my eyes from Taylor.
Heat burned beneath the surface of my skin as a ruddy, fury-induced haze clouded my vision. Lucian. His name alone sent an upsurge of hatred and disgust that fueled my rage. A long time enemy of my coven, and a complete shit in every sense of the word, he’d declared war against my coven-mate, my brother in magic, in a maniacal quest for power. Taylor, a mortal who’d only recently become aware of the existence of supernaturals, had been caught in the crossfire; another innocent harmed because of my fucked up legacy.
Dressed entirely in black, blue eyes darkened with malice, Lucian strutted around Taylor’s limp body like a goddamned peacock on parade.
Every molecule in my body screamed to end him, to rip his head from his body, dance in his entrails, ensure he suffered massive amounts of pain before sending him to hell. I closed my eyes, focused on my powers, fought to break free from the invisible bands he’d trapped me in.
I groaned in frustration. Nothing. Fucking nothing. The asshole had dampened my powers when he’d captured me. He was lucky. Lucky he’d managed to get the drop on me. Because if he hadn’t, he’d be dead.
Fingertips pressed together, he arched a brow and sneered. “Gabriel, is it? I’ve heard of you and of the great loss you suffered.” He cast a sidelong glance at Taylor, brow raised, then turned to face me once more. “She bears a remarkable likeness to your Faythe, does she not?”
Alarm flooded my system. My body shook. My jaw ached. My chest felt like it might explode.
Lucian’s words echoed inside my head, gave voice to the troubled thoughts that consumed my every waking breath.
Was it possible?
Was Taylor, the woman I’d crossed paths with just days before, the same beauty I’d fallen in love with three hundred years ago?
The woman I’d sworn to protect?
The woman who’d died during the Salem Witch trials, a direct result of the wretched curse I carried?
Her physical similarities to Faythe were nothing short of astonishing. Aside from the modern clothing she wore, she was an exact duplicate in every way. Same long russet hair; same fine bone structure and flawless skin; same long, slender build. I’d never come across a doppelganger before and marveled, again, at the extraordinary woman before me.
I hope you enjoyed the snippet and the cover! Faythe Reclaimed debuts on May 17th! Woot! Just one more month!