Title: End of
Dreams (The Immortal Destiny, Book One)
Author: Kim
Faulks
Genre: Dark
Paranormal/Horror
Tour Host: Lady
Amber's Tours
Blurb:
A vicious
killer hunts a young pregnant woman. He wants more than her blood--he wants her
baby too.
Young Eve
dreams of being a good mother to her unborn son, that dream is shattered when
child killer, Edric Hasting finds her in the middle of the night.
Haunted by
the images of black wings on her baby’s ultrasound and the killers last words
Eve knows her only hope of survival is to run.
She soon
finds hard-bitten detective Adley Scott who dreams of justice for a string of
murdered children which hit too close to home.
A group of
Immortals are drawn into Eve’s battle for survival as events are played out
across the globe by two opposing factions of immortal beings.
The fragile,
divine balance of all things is at stake, and the world is the ultimate prize.
Against a background
of universe-changing events and an ensemble of vivid, unforgettable characters,
Eve and Adley will have to fight to survive as they begin to learn the truth of
The Immortal Destiny.
Author Bio:
The author of
The Fire and Ice Series, No Angel Series and now the Immortal Destiny Series I
was raised on a staple diet of Stephen King and Dean Koontz, there I fell in
love with the darker styles of writing. I started writing at a young age but
quickly realised that I lacked an important ingredient, life experience. Now I
have this in spades.Author Link: http://www.amazon.com/Kim-Faulks/e/B005J7EPH8/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1377400549&sr=1-2-ent
Buy link (Amazon only): http://www.amazon.com/End-Dreams-Immortal-Destiny-ebook/dp/B00DPR22FQ/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1377400618&sr=1-6
Excerpt:
Eve tucked her hair behind her ears
and straightened her blouse before stepping inside Hurrow’s Federal Hotel.
Narrowed eyes and glassy stares followed her all the way to the bar. She sat
down on a ruptured leather stool, listening to the juke box belt out some hit
from back in the eighties. The song sounded vaguely familiar. Like something
Mother had once listened to—before she became a Christian, before she found
God.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender’s voice
boomed beside her. Eve jumped and her heart sped. He gripped the counter,
leaning forward. He was waiting for her to say something, anything. Eve
opened her mouth. But no words came, so she closed it again.
This was her first drink. In her first
bar. On the first night of her new life. She was finally away from her mother’s
controlling rule once and for all—she was free. She stared back at the
bartender as a feeling of hope fluttered low inside her belly like a
weighed-down moth. Even his scowls wouldn't dampen her mood tonight. Eve
couldn’t help but grin.
The bartender no longer glared at her,
but exhaled, closed his eyes and swore. Beer? No. Sex on the Beach? I’m not
saying that. Eve’s gaze danced along the row of bottles, trying to find
something nice which didn’t look like liquid fire. “Umm. May I have a glass of
champagne?”
His brows shot upwards, hovered there
for a moment before his forehead creased. “Champagne? Does it fucking look like
we serve champagne?”
Like a ghost, Eve’s confidence dissolved,
as though it had never been there at all. Someone behind her laughed. A woman
who called out behind her, “Champagne? Who does this bitch think she is?”
Eve’s face burned.
“Don’t give the girl a hard time,
Trev. Can’t you see she’s nervous? Just give her something sparkling and make
it expensive.”
Keeping her head still, Eve glanced
sideways at the man sliding onto the seat beside her. He was older, by a lot.
His pitted face and long, greasy hair matched a black ensemble of leather
jacket and dirty jeans which covered his stick-like physique. He caught her
staring and winked. Tiny black stumps she guessed had been teeth were revealed
with a smile. She looked away and slid from her seat, her eyes drifting to the
door. “No. I’m fine, thank you. I… I’ve changed my mind.”
The stranger caught her arm with a
soft hold. His touch made her wince. “Nonsense, come on. You’ve come all this
way. Just have one little drink.”
It wasn’t his conviction that made her
hesitate—it was his words.
She had come a long way. A lot farther
than the four-hour bus ride with one suitcase to her name. Her longest journey
was the road she’d traveled within herself. Her fight for freedom, even though
she was afraid to be alone, but more afraid she’d give in and go back, so the
loneliness was bearable. You won’t survive, you’re too weak. Her
mother’s parting snarl still haunted her.
Eve’s vision blurred and her throat
thickened, cutting off the air to her lungs. She inhaled sharply, wheezing,
coughing. The stench of sweat and nicotine filled her nose as tears blurred her
gaze. She thought she’d be able to leave behind all the hurt and the hateful
words. There was no new life, here or anywhere. Only the baggage of her old one
she dragged behind wherever she went.
Her hair fell into her eyes and she
shoved it away with the back of her hand, along with a tear. She’d never escape
her father’s suicide, or the depression and Valium which followed. Eve took in
the bar, now that her rose-colored glasses were gone. She didn’t belong here.
She didn’t belong anywhere. But she had nowhere else to go.
The bartender slid the frosted glass
toward her. The drink wasn’t champagne, but at this moment, she didn’t really
care. Tiny bubbles surged from the bottom to break free on the surface. She’d tried
to break free and yet somehow she still failed. The bartender waited patiently
while Eve dug for a crumpled ten-dollar note. Her fingers skirted the tiny
yellow pill lodged in the crease of her pocket, her weakness and her disease.
She grabbed both the note and the tablet while the stranger beside her opened
his wallet. His thick pile of bills was hard to miss. He pushed a twenty along
the bar.
“No… please, it's okay.” She might be
a lot of things, but she’d never be bought. Not for a drink in a bar, not for
anything. “I can pay myself.”
She palmed the pill and slid the note
across the bar. The bartender nodded snatched up her crumbled bill. “Looks like
she be buyin’ her own drink tonight, Matty. You just run along now and leave
the young lady alone.”
The stranger pushed off the stool to
tower over her. A flash of rage filled his eyes and Eve was paralyzed. His lips
slithered back over his gums. Her scalp quivered and her hands shook. He loomed
over her, breathing heavily and pinning her with a piercing glare for what
seemed like forever before he stormed away.
Her cheeks buzzed with heat and her
hands trembled. She shoved the pill into her mouth and washed it down with the
fake champagne. She wanted for one moment not to feel hurt and humiliation. She
wanted for one moment not to feel anything.
For Eve, time wasn’t measured in weeks
or days, or even hours. She counted time by the minutes and seconds it took for
the magic pill to dissolve the grip clenching her insides, so she could
breathe.
Valium and alcohol made for a
dangerous combination. By the time she swallowed the last of the bubbles, she
felt off-balance. The room spun out of control and took her stomach with it.
Her heart beat frantically and the walls closed in around her. The barroom
chatter became screams of laughter. The raucous roar was too much for her and
Eve slipped from her seat, leaving the stares and snide comments behind, and
stumbled for the doorway.
The November air was thick and warm.
Eve fanned the bottom of her shirt to catch a breeze and headed for the alley
which would lead her home. The haunting bay of a dog caught her attention. Her
heavy thoughts were captured by that woeful sound while she turned and stumbled
in the dark until hands dug into her back. She was shoved hard against the side
of a building. The brick walls were unforgiving. Her head cracked against a
wall and the pain slashed like lightening through her head. She stumbled
sideways and lifted her hand toward the back of her head, her thoughts
frozen.
“Fucking stuck-up bitch! You think
you’re too good for someone like me?”
Eve’s world seemed slow and thick,
like syrup. The snarl in her ear became distorted. She didn’t understand his
words, but revulsion shot like cold fire through her veins, fighting the
effects of the pill. He pushed his hand inside her shirt to fumble at the cup
of her bra. Her thoughts sharpened. She screamed.
The stranger from the bar invaded her
field of vision. He gripped her jaw and squeezed. Eve ignored the pain and
whipped her head from side-to-side in an effort to break free. But he held on,
snaking his leg around hers to pull her tight against him. Please God, no.
Not like this… not like this. “Get away from me! Let me go!”
“I’ll show you. I’ll show you good,
you stuck up little bitch!”
“No, plea—”
Her words were silenced by his mouth.
Eve felt violated, filled with revulsion… sickened by his touch and the fear of
what might happen next. His hands were everywhere. Not one part of her body was
left sacred. His tongue slithered in and out of her mouth. His fetid breath,
forced into her lungs, became hers as she struggled to breathe.
Valium fought against the adrenaline,
pushed along by the rapid fire of her heart, Eve hit, scratched, and kicked
with everything she had. Her arms felt like lead, her movements seemed as
though she moved underwater. She tried to escape his touch, rolling her
shoulders forward and tucking her chin down. He held her still, and his hands
burrowed deeper, finding the soft flesh of her nipple. Eve's stomach rolled and
the taste of acid filled her mouth. Her attacker stopped moving, his frantic
fingers left her bra. Has he given up? Please God….
“I said, take your hands off her.”
A new voice bounced around the alley,
low and threatening. Her attacker stilled, but he didn’t let her go. The sound
of his voice reverberated against her body as he spoke. “You best be on your
way. This doesn’t concern you.”
Eve thrashed, using her weight to
break free. He held on, his grip on her mouth became harder, distorting her
frantic words. “Pease, pease. Hep me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” her attacker
growled into her ear.
The deep voice bounced around Eve once
more. “I’ll not say it again. Let the woman go.”
“Or what? You best fuck off or—”
He pulled her forward and slammed her
back against the wall. Her shoulders took the brunt of the impact and her head
snapped back against the brick. Agony roared inside her skull, the pain took
her breath away and dominated her thoughts. White lights sparked in her vision.
She stumbled and her knees connected sharply with the sidewalk. Screams from
her attacker filled the air. Eve lurched forward as hot wine and acid flowed
from her mouth, spilling onto the pavement. Helpless, she rode the waves of
panic and revulsion until only dry heaves were left.
She wiped her mouth and glanced
sideways. Her attacker flailed on the ground. His body jerked and thrashed in
the air and then was slammed to the ground by a blur of a hand. She caught a
glimpse of a face, a beautiful face hidden behind savagery. Eve covered her
ears, but his screams drilled through the gaps of her fingers. A loud snap
fractured his wails. Eve looked up to the night sky. Please… please make
this stop.
And the night became silent like the
moon above her.
Scared to move, she stayed still and
sneaked a glimpse at the fight. The streetlight cut a triangle across the alley
entrance, dividing light from the dark. Shiny black shoes and the bottoms of
perfectly-creased pants seem to glide toward her.
“It is okay. I will not hurt you.”
Eve wrenched her hands from her ears
to grip the edges of her torn blouse.
“You have nothing to fear from me.”
Her rescuer knelt before her, his hand
outstretched. The street light illuminated his broad cheek bones, revealing
arctic blue eyes and glossy black hair.
Eve searched those eyes for kindness
and compassion. She found none. It's enough he just saved my life, isn't it?
Her gaze shifted to the unmoving feet of her attacker.
“He is not dead, merely asleep.”
Eve turned back to her rescuer. He
waited for her to take his hand, like he had all the time in the world. She
reached out. Her own hand hovered in the air and trembled before she grasped
his and he helped her to stand. The minute she felt steady on her feet, she
snatched her hand away and gripped the edges of her shirt tightly. Forcing the
words through the pain in her jaw, she whispered, “Thank you.”
“Please tell me you are okay. When I
saw him hurting you I thought he had already—”
She cut him off, needing to stay the
words for her own reassurance. She wrenched her hand from his grasp. “No. Thank
God.”
He stared at her, his eyes reflecting
the street light. He smiled. “Yes, thank God. Although you really should be
thanking me.”
“I’m so sorry, please forgive me.
Thank you, thank you so much, Mr…?”
He shook his head and smiled.
He doesn’t want to give me his name.
He’s afraid I’ll drag him into this mess… Into my mess. Can I blame him? “I am grateful for everything you’ve
done for me. I’m Eve.”
“Eve. That... is... a beautiful name.
The name of the woman who begat the fall of man, if I remember correctly.
How... fitting….”
He moved closer to her, drawing her
into his gaze. In this moment, Eve no longer stood in the darkened alley with
the remnants of cheap wine drying on her lips. Instead, she floated, caught in
his ice-blue gaze.
Her mind slowed and then stilled. Her
panic eased until everything apart from this stranger seemed to fade away. His
words were hypnotic. “May I walk you home?”
“Yes.” She answered before she’d had a
chance to think it over. Her response had been so automatic. Should I really
allow a stranger to walk me home at night? Shouldn’t I be concerned? Those
questions seemed to slip through the numbed fingers of her mind. Instead of
fleeing in fear, she found herself nodding and taking his hand when he held it
out once more.
He walked beside her, not too close so
they touched, nor too distant, giving her space to slip away.
“Are you afraid of me?”
His question was carried to her on the
soft night breeze. Even though she wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard him,
shame forced her to answer. This man had risked his life to save her. But she
couldn't lie, not even to herself. Honesty forced her to accept the fact Valium
was a way for her to cope, hiding the truth from her and everyone else—the truth
that everything scared her.
“Look at me.”
She stopped, glimpsing the door to her
apartment building in the corner of her eye. Keep walking, don't stop,
said a tiny voice inside her.
“Eve. Look at me.”
There was something about his voice,
something so spell-binding and compelling. It was hard not to look, impossible
to not obey his commands. Eve turned toward him, yet somehow a part of her was
urging her to run. But she couldn’t run, she was frozen. Eve stared into
his bottomless eyes, unable to tear away from his gaze, or his touch.
“You are exactly what I am looking
for, someone pure and so... tender.”
His accent was so strange,
old-fashioned and rigid. It wasn’t Australian that she was sure of. It wasn’t
anything she knew. He trailed his fingers down her jawbone. His finger hovered
on the end of her chin and then lifted her face to his. His words were jumbled,
whispered phrases she couldn't quite catch. All she could see were his perfect,
soft lips. “Shall you succeed where others have failed?”
He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead
he stepped closer, towering over her. “Well, we shall see, won't we?”
He stared into her eyes, as though he
seemed to savor this moment, before lowering his head. “Ahh, humans,” he
whispered, and then he kissed her.
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