Tour Giveaway: 5 ebook sets of Veined & Lethed
1 $15 Amazon Gift Card
Today, I'm excited to be part of the Anyta Sunday Book Tour. Please continue reading to learn mor about the books and to enter a great giveaway!
Title: Veined
Guardians of the Angels Book 1
Author: Anyta Sunday
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
Number of Pages: 446
Cover Artist: Carolyn Wimmer Streiflicht Fotographie
Book Blurb:It could be worse for Skylar Lark. She could be dead. A coma was nothing to that. Or her family moving across country for treatment, leaving her with a big blue mark on her back.
She can handle it.
Mostly,
Except for the mark glows and tingles, especially whenever transition specialist Atticus Plot (Attic) is close by. She suspects he's hiding something, and when she stumbles across a torn body bearing the same spiral marking as her own, that suspicion is confirmed.
After a few shaves with death, the truth finally comes out and the battles begin.
But not all her fights are external; her biggest one is the decision she has to make between doing the right thing for the world, and giving up her beloved family for good.
Available on Amazon, Smashwords, and All Romance Ebooks.
Veined
Excerpt (Partial of first Chapter):
And into this
drama. I bit my bottom lip and looked at the doctor (Albelin, as he’d
introduced himself seconds ago). Although Albelin stood next to the bed, his
voice echoed like he was at the other end of a tunnel. “. . . coma . . . much
sooner than anticipated.”
Goose bumps
dotted my skin and I tucked the hospital sheet—the only thing covering my body
save a pair of ungenerous undies that were giving me a wedgie—tightly under my
arms.
My thoughts
spiraled. I strained to recall how I’d arrived here in the first place, but I
couldn't remember much. There had been a flash of color, and then—blank.
Albelin's curly
black hair swished as he moved his gaze away from me and toward his vibrating
pocket. Something on the side of his neck caught my attention. A black tattoo,
like the wing of an eagle. But it disappeared behind his collar as he pulled
out his phone. He scanned the screen, and then stuffed the phone back into his
pocket. “Your family is on their way,” he said.
My family. Faces
and partial memories popped up like a black-and-white film, with someone slowly
winding the crank. A blonde woman unraveling a kite—Mom. A man in a police
uniform—Dad. And a boy building a Lego tower—Jeffrey.
“Right.” The
word felt hollow and scratched the inside of my throat. Using the corner of the
sheet to cover my mouth, I coughed. It hurt my chest and sounded wet.
With watery
eyes, I scanned the room. I’d been so stuck on the word coma, I’d failed to
notice my basic surroundings. My coughing came to an abrupt stop, but my
thoughts continued to gallop. It wasn’t as though I knew what coming out of a
coma should feel like, but I had an idea what it should look like. Where was
the respirator? The drip? Heart monitor? In fact, the only features of the room
that indicated hospital were the green walls and linoleum flooring.
Albelin must
have read my panicky expression as I’d surveyed the room, because he started to
explain, “We used a new method involving electro-magnetism to bring you back to
consciousness. That’s why you aren’t wearing anything and why you shouldn’t
have any issues with muscle deterioration. That, and we’ve given you protein
supplements.”
Electro-magnetism?
That sounded like something I’d hear in a physics class. My stomach flipped and
I swallowed the awkward laugh that rose to my throat and caused a gurgling
sound. This wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill hospital at all. Maybe it was
experimental, maybe there'd been no other option. Oh, God, what happened to me?
I craned my neck
from side to side. My muscles were stiff, but at least I was conscious. I let
out a shuddering breath and blinked back the water pooling in my eyes. I didn't
care that I was seventeen and supposed act big and brave and something close to
an adult. Right now all I wanted was my mom.
Albelin smiled,
barely crinkling the skin at the sides of his eyes, but his smile didn't soothe
the erratic butterflies in my belly. If anything, it made them worse; he was so
young to be a doctor. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five.
Reaching under
the bed, he pulled out a duffel bag and handed it to me. My duffel bag. The one
I took to gymnastics trainings. “Here are some clothes for you to change into.”
I twisted the
familiar canvas handles around my palm.
“Showers aren’t
far,” he added, “just out those doors, second on the left. Towel’s in the bag.
Let me help you there.”
Holding the
sheet, I stood up. My legs felt like jelly, but I shook my head at Albelin’s
offer. “I think I can manage.” I wobbled my way toward the swing doors.
Albelin raced to
my side. “I insist on helping you.”
He attempted to
brace my elbow, but I pulled away. “Thanks, but—but—” I needed alone time. To
think. And I didn’t want anyone touching me while I was wearing practically
nothing but a sheet. "I'll be fine, really. I'll yell if I need
help."
As soon as I was
in the hall, I rested one hand against the wall and used it as a crutch. I was
doing all right considering I’d not used my legs in weeks.
Light filtered
through the windows, imprinting squares on the opposite wall. I pressed my hand
in the center of one as I looked outside onto the street. Mom, Dad and Jeffrey
would be coming soon.
I jumped,
dropping the duffel bag when a flash of black whizzed by. A tall guy wearing a
green T-shirt and tight black gloves up to his elbows was striding down the
hall. I lunged to grab the bag, but my foot caught in the sheet, ripping it
from under my arms. My head jerked up as the scratchy cotton sunk to my feet
and I chased after it.
Palms sweating,
I wrapped the sheet tightly around me, heat swelling my cheeks. At least he'd
jerked his head away. Still, it didn't stop my heart from thumping
double-to-one in embarrassment.
Pick up the bag
and move. Go shower.
He glanced back,
sweeping his hair to the side. With a chuckle, Gloved Guy passed by and pushed
through the swinging doors of my room. As soon as he was behind them, Albelin
greeted him. It sounded like they knew each other well. I reached to pick up
the duffel bag and stopped.
“Her name’s
Lark?” Gloved Guy’s voice sounded amused by my name. “Like the bird?”
I crept closer.
Why was Albelin talking about me?
“Sylva Lark,”
Albelin corrected.
“And?”
“And she’s
veined.” . . .
~*~*~
