The Book
Book 1 in The Verge series
Genre: Fantasy Dystopia
About Fairytale Apocalypse:
A romance of apocalyptic proportionsSource: Info in the About Fairytale Apocalypse was from the press kit from the publicity team.
Two worlds bound by magic…
Three people joined by destiny…
Lord Kagan Donmall rules the Verge, the border that protects the magical Fae Inlands from the mundane mortal world. Recently, the Verge has been failing and he suspects the source of magic is fading. His prayers to Danu have gone unanswered, until now.
The young mortal, Lauren Montgomery, hears the message of Danu and eagerly agrees to be the Lady of the Verge, for she desires more than a mundane life.
But Lauren’s twin sister, Tessa-ever her sister’s protector, challenges the decision. The Verge falls, and the Fae and mortal worlds suffer a double apocalypse.
Now Kagan, Lauren, and Tessa must survive in this new, hostile world and discover a way to repair that which has been destroyed while navigating the bonds of duty, love, and vengeance.
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Excerpt:
“Get out of my way, Paul.”
Still covered in blood, sweat and filth, Kagan pushed off the armory’s door frame where he’d been leaning the last few minutes since they’d left the battle. Tensing, he prepared to intervene should Tessa need him; however, his presence seemed to have been forgotten, and he watched as their bodies strained around each other but never touched in an awkward dance.
Tessa tried to sidestep the large man, but Paul blocked her again, his arms outstretched. “Think 'bout what you’re doin'.”
“I am.” She feinted far left, then dodged right.
His bulkiness ended up faltering against her speed and flexibility. Paul’s cussing amused Kagan, who smirked and relaxed his stance on the jamb.
Paul laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” Tessa pivoted and gripped his wrist, twisting his arm beyond its natural angle.
His torso moved in the direction of her arm lock, but he didn’t step back. Kagan saw pain in Paul’s brown eyes, but he never released the smallest sound acknowledging it. They stared each other down, Paul’s jaw muscles jumping and bunching beneath his stubble while Tessa pushed his arm farther into the lock.
Paul leaned in close to Tessa, his voice so low Kagan barely heard him. “You don’t need to do this.”
“The hell I don’t!” She shoved him so hard he fell onto a stack of food boxes on a nearby table, scattering them like roaches. A few burst open, exposing a type of curved, dried pasta Kagan once ate covered in vibrant orange cheese sauce, bland but satisfying. Seeing it again made his stomach growl. Later, he sighed, partially resigned to never eating again, best to deal with this first.
Turning from the stunned Paul, Tessa started gathering supplies, heedlessly stuffing them into a large olive-green rucksack. No words passed between the three for several moments, only the sounds of metal and pre-packaged containers being slide into the bag filled the room. Paul shook out his arm and exchanged a guarded look with Kagan. Cocking a brow, Kagan frowned at Paul, who continued to brush off his dignity.
Paul mouthed—Well?—at him.
As if she’ll listen to me. Cautiously, Kagan approached her from behind, grateful that his facial markings had faded shortly after he’d sworn his vow to her. “Tessa.”
She jumped, face agog with shock as if she didn’t recognize him in that instant. Her long brown hair hung in matted hanks, a few frizzy strands drifting about her head like a wretched halo. Dirt and dried gore painted her face, making her dilated chestnut eyes appear black. He knew he looked no better, could feel his clothes and hair stiffening as the blood dried. But Tessa—
She was gruesome. She was magnificent. His cock twitched, hardening, urged along by the coppery taste of mortal blood lingering on his tongue. He could hardly restrain his urge to strip her naked, slam her against a wall, and bury himself inside her carnage-soaked body, to forcefully take her as done in ancient times when their worlds existed as one in harmony. Thrusting, pounding, dominating, his ears begged to hear her scream his name in—
“What?” she snapped, pulling him from his lust-addled delusion.
Damn Fae bloodlust! Frustrated for numerous reasons, he growled at her and quickly stepped back to clear his nostrils of Tessa’s primitive scent. Mentally slapping himself, he wished for a cold spring in which to dunk his overheated hormones. He pinched his nose, then cleared his throat. “Whatever your plan to rescue Lady Lauren, you’ll not attempt it without me.”
Still covered in blood, sweat and filth, Kagan pushed off the armory’s door frame where he’d been leaning the last few minutes since they’d left the battle. Tensing, he prepared to intervene should Tessa need him; however, his presence seemed to have been forgotten, and he watched as their bodies strained around each other but never touched in an awkward dance.
Tessa tried to sidestep the large man, but Paul blocked her again, his arms outstretched. “Think 'bout what you’re doin'.”
“I am.” She feinted far left, then dodged right.
His bulkiness ended up faltering against her speed and flexibility. Paul’s cussing amused Kagan, who smirked and relaxed his stance on the jamb.
Paul laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” Tessa pivoted and gripped his wrist, twisting his arm beyond its natural angle.
His torso moved in the direction of her arm lock, but he didn’t step back. Kagan saw pain in Paul’s brown eyes, but he never released the smallest sound acknowledging it. They stared each other down, Paul’s jaw muscles jumping and bunching beneath his stubble while Tessa pushed his arm farther into the lock.
Paul leaned in close to Tessa, his voice so low Kagan barely heard him. “You don’t need to do this.”
“The hell I don’t!” She shoved him so hard he fell onto a stack of food boxes on a nearby table, scattering them like roaches. A few burst open, exposing a type of curved, dried pasta Kagan once ate covered in vibrant orange cheese sauce, bland but satisfying. Seeing it again made his stomach growl. Later, he sighed, partially resigned to never eating again, best to deal with this first.
Turning from the stunned Paul, Tessa started gathering supplies, heedlessly stuffing them into a large olive-green rucksack. No words passed between the three for several moments, only the sounds of metal and pre-packaged containers being slide into the bag filled the room. Paul shook out his arm and exchanged a guarded look with Kagan. Cocking a brow, Kagan frowned at Paul, who continued to brush off his dignity.
Paul mouthed—Well?—at him.
As if she’ll listen to me. Cautiously, Kagan approached her from behind, grateful that his facial markings had faded shortly after he’d sworn his vow to her. “Tessa.”
She jumped, face agog with shock as if she didn’t recognize him in that instant. Her long brown hair hung in matted hanks, a few frizzy strands drifting about her head like a wretched halo. Dirt and dried gore painted her face, making her dilated chestnut eyes appear black. He knew he looked no better, could feel his clothes and hair stiffening as the blood dried. But Tessa—
She was gruesome. She was magnificent. His cock twitched, hardening, urged along by the coppery taste of mortal blood lingering on his tongue. He could hardly restrain his urge to strip her naked, slam her against a wall, and bury himself inside her carnage-soaked body, to forcefully take her as done in ancient times when their worlds existed as one in harmony. Thrusting, pounding, dominating, his ears begged to hear her scream his name in—
“What?” she snapped, pulling him from his lust-addled delusion.
Damn Fae bloodlust! Frustrated for numerous reasons, he growled at her and quickly stepped back to clear his nostrils of Tessa’s primitive scent. Mentally slapping himself, he wished for a cold spring in which to dunk his overheated hormones. He pinched his nose, then cleared his throat. “Whatever your plan to rescue Lady Lauren, you’ll not attempt it without me.”
Meet The Author
As a teen, writing became my passion, and like most aspiring writers, my work was terrible, immature, cliched drivel. I enlisted in the Army, attended college for my creative writing degree, became a paramedic for twenty years (one of the few at the time with a degree), then switched careers into IT. Crazy, huh? Throughout my life, I’ve traveled far and pushed myself hard, striving to try almost anything at least once (except skydiving unless the plane is on fire).
I write like I live. Come and explore my imagination.
jacquelinepatricks.com | twitter | facebook | facebook author page | pinterest | google+ | amazon | goodreads
Goodreads Book Giveaway
Giveaway ends April 17, 2014. See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Giveaway
There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Fairytale Apocalypse. These are the prizes you can win: - 100$ amazon gift card
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