Excerpt 2:
With my good
arm, I pull my leg up to bend the knee. Hiking the hem of my dress up, I reveal
torn muscle and shredded skin. I wince as the fabric moves over it, tugging
flaps of skin in directions they aren’t meant to go.
Elias’ hands set
to work, scooping water up, and pouring it over my thigh. Each drop, gentle as
the administration of them may be, pulls a moan of pain from my lips. Wrapping
fingers tightly around a stone, I do what I can to bear the pain without making
Elias feel worse.
The blood washes
away, revealing the true devastation wrought by the dead wolf’s jaws. My leg
hangs open, dark muscle showing itself to the sky as it was never meant to do.
“Itand have
mercy,” he whispers, calling on the goddess of fortitude.
But she’ll spare
no blessings for the likes of me.
“What do I need
to do?” he asks. His eyes roam over me, and one hand finds its way to my cheek.
Brows knitted together, he clearly longs for something to do, some reassurance
that I’ll be ok.
Does he want me
to be alright for the sake of spending more time together? Or merely for the
sake of having an escort for the rest of the trek?
I hope for his
sake that it’s the latter. But the well of loneliness within me wishes for the
former.
Either way,
there’s nothing he can do.
“My body will
mend itself,” I tell him. “It’ll hurt, but it’ll mend. It’s already started.”
His eyes drop to
my arm, my leg. The bleeding has stopped, and the cuts aren’t as deep as they
were mere seconds ago. Had he seen it when the wounds were first inflicted, he
likely would’ve been sick.
“I wish you
would’ve let me help,” he murmurs, sliding his hand along my jaw until his
thumb finds my earlobe.
Exhaustion pulls
my inhibitions low. Despite myself, despite the guilt churning within me, I
lean into his caress.
Nolan won’t want
me back, anyway.
My heart shrinks
from the thought, and I close my eyes, nuzzling my cheek into Elias’ palm.
“Letting you
help would’ve been a terrible idea. They could never kill me. They had no salt,
no silver. They couldn’t say any incantations.”
I pause,
squeezing my eyes tight against the horrid images which flash before them. I
don’t want to see the ways they could’ve hurt him. I don’t want to watch them
tear him to shreds. I don’t want to see his blood on the ground.
“They could’ve
killed you, though,” I whisper.
Suddenly
desperate to see him alive and healthy, to ease my conscience just a bit, I
open my eyes. Sure enough, he’s there, face inches from mine. The moonlight
glows in his magnificent eyes, but the blood of the Howlers still adorns his
face.
Reaching for his
sodden shirt, I lift a corner of it to his face. Wiping away the dried blood, I
memorize the strength in his jaw, the kindness in his eyes. I trace the small
kink in his nose, a remnant from a previous fight.
From a distance,
it’s almost impossible to notice, but this close…
My eyes drop to
his lips, full and soft. They part, but only to speak.
Confusion
wrinkles his brow. “If they couldn’t kill you, why were they sent after us? To
maim you and kill me?”
“No,” I say,
shaking my head. I stifle a groan as my thigh stitches itself together. “They
sent them to find us. They know where we are, now. They know which way we were
headed. They’ll find us.”
Those words sew
our lips shut, for we both know. This won’t be the last of the vampire and his
pledge. And if this was just the search party, what awaits us down the path?
What is it about this book that makes it special?
A Heart of Salt & Silver is guttural and sensual. The
characters break in the face of trauma. They falter. And they get back up.
They move forward, clawing through life and into love.
This book takes things that we see all the time in
paranormal romance and fantasy romance, things like vampires and shifters and
witches and love triangles, and it twists them. It digs deeper, flooding each
of those tropes with genuine emotion and psychology.
Because without true motivations, without relatable
characters who’ve seen the darker side of human nature and still kept going,
it’s harder for me to get into a book. But if you give me that desperation,
that struggle, if you show me a character willing to keep trying for what they
want even when everything around them tries to stand in their way, it sucks me
in.
So of course, that’s the kind of characters I generally write.
But I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the thing that every
beta reader mentioned as something they loved.
Some immortals can smell emotions and whether someone is
mortal or immortal. They can also hear heartbeats.
Basically, there are two types of energy (also the
foundation of magic and immortality in the world), Nether and Ether. As such,
there are two types of Immortals, Netherspawn and Etherspawn, named for the
type of energy they have an excess of. This excess allows them certain
abilities, since they’re more in tune with that energy.
Ether is cerebral in nature and incredibly contained, so its
affects on the outside world are hard to discern, if not impossible. Skilled
Etherspawn can reason their way through any problem, making all the difficult
decisions necessary without batting an eye. And after a couple centuries of
practice, they can read minds.
Nether is unruly and hard to restrain. Emotions and
heartbeats are rooted in Nether, and thus affect the energy around the person
or animal. Heartbeats vibrate the Nether in the air, allowing practiced Netherspawn
to find their prey or detect excitement in a lover. Emotions affect the way the
Nether in the air smells, telling Netherspawn exactly what’s going on within
someone, once they learn what each smell means.
Love smells like sugar, and hope smells like lilac. Worry
smells like sweat and onions. Fear smells like spoiled food.
Lust smells earthy, like freshly tilled dirt.
As for mortals vs immortals, their scents fall into certain
classes. Mortals smell like normal objects or food.
Netherspawn have very distinctive scents. Vampires smell
like types of alcohol, and wolf shifters (called werewolves in the book) smell
like woodland trees or flowers. Sirens smell like tropical plants. Demons and
Demi-Demons smell like types of smoke.
Etherspawn are incredibly rare, limited only to Gods and
Demi-Gods, and have no overwhelming scent, which tells Netherspawn exactly what
they are. Since Ether is so contained and doesn’t resonate as easily, they’re
naturally more reserved in what they put out into the world. Only their emotions
come through on the wind, but those are few and far between in these cerebral
beings.
Of course, the immortals also have other abilities too, but
this one, the way their immortality tunes them into the world and the people
around them, has been remarked upon by every reader thus far.
Elexis Bell is a quiet nerd with too many hobbies, including everything from gaming to shower-singing and even archery, weather permitting. She specializes in sarcasm and writing stories that make people feel. She's made a home for herself with her husband, their dog, and a small army of cats.
She writes dark, gritty stories, sprinkling gut-wrenching emotions over high fantasy romance, thrillers, post-apocalyptic romance, and science fiction.
For further information, follow her on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook, or check out her blog on her website.
Website: www.elexisbell.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gnTZwf
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Elexis-Bell-877360839111331/
Twitter: www.twitter.com/bell_elexis
Blog: http://www.elexisbell.com/blog/
Instagram: www.instagram.com/elexis_bell
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/elexis_bell/
Allauthor: https://allauthor.com/author/elexisbell/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17807452.Elexis_Bell
Nanowrimo: https://nanowrimo.org/participants/elexisbell
No comments:
Post a Comment