Book Blitz: Burdened (Book 1) by Peiri Ann

Burdened (Book 1)
by Peiri Ann
Release Date: April 2014

Synopsis:

Eighteen-year-old Tracey Warren is a ‘run-of-the-mill’ high school student on the verge of graduation. She has her friends and her fun; she has life all figured out. Or she thought she did.

Her pedestrian reality crashes around her after an innocuous touch from a diabolically handsome stranger. Just one touch from Nathan Newcomb and her head and her world spins out of control. Soon she discovers that the only cure for the uneasy feelings and pain is Nathan himself. A man whose very existence balances between violent chaos and rigidly controlled dangers.

Nathan knows that the life of a woman mated to a burdened Sephlem is destined for peril beyond a human’s reckoning. But Tracey calls to his desire to experience love in spite of the hazards. And Nathan’s impossibly potent magnetism draws Tracey into a bonding that will put her in mortal danger again and again.

Once the pair becomes one, the threat escalates and nowhere is safe. There are enemies that lurk behind every corner. But the greatest danger may be in the bloodlines that course through Nathan’s veins.

Can a love for all time survive or will their burdened souls surrender and fade away?

(Warning: Burdened contains mature contact and strong language some may not find appropriate for readers under the age of 18.)

Burdened

by Peiri Ann

Getting in my Mazda 6, there is a flyer on my window. They are really planning on advertising this party everywhere. Really, flyers? And on my car of all places. I hate shit on my car. Throwing the flyer to the backseat, I turn up the radio. There are little-to-no cars left, and I am so ready to be at home, on a couch, watching something not relevant to life.

Maybe there will be something on MTV, no, E, no… Maybe there will be a good movie on HBO, no, maybe on FX. Yeah, FX always has a good movie on. I’ll sit back in the family room and wa—

There’s a loud screech and a hard bang. I jolt forward and back—my body slams against the seat. Blinking, trying to get my eyes to focus, I’m dazed; my vision fades out then back in. I think—I think I just got hit waiting at a stop sign. Panic kicks in as I look myself over. Am I okay? Oh my goodness, am I hurt?

What the hell! Somebody just hit my damn car! I grab my head, feeling it starting to throb. I think I hit my head on the—

A tap pulls me from my self-examination.

No, the idiot who just hit me is not tapping on my damn window!

I open the door, pissed. “What? What the hell? You just hit me!” I yell, still trying to get my eyesight to focus.

“Um, yeah, I know.” I look at him. “I am so sorry.” The apologetic voice comes from a perfectly chiseled face that subtly responds to my anger.

He looks at me with slanted, brown, prominent eyes. When he turns a little away from the sun, they turn a pale hazel. His strong nose ends in a rounded point, and his hair is—maybe black or brown, depending on how the sun hits it. Very attractive lips that say ‘Hey, I am here, kiss me.’ He is tall with broad shoulders capable of blocking the sun and that adds to his presence in a way that is equally hypnotizing.

“I know this is probably the worst thing that could happen right before your break. I am truly sorry. I can get the car fixed for you.” His exposed arms show off his tanned skin tone, which somewhat glistens from the rays of the sun, and it’s as if I’m watching it soak up every ray.

I swing my legs from the car and step out. The world seems to shift. I grab my head, feeling dizzy. The earth feels like it’s moving beneath my feet, and I lose my balance.

He catches me with a quick grab of my arm and cuff of my waist. There is a tingle, slight burning feeling, where his hand touches my bare arm.

He makes sure I’m standing on my own, then quickly pulls his hand away. The Earth shakes again and I become a little wobbly. He touches my shoulder, holding me in place, and makes sure not to let his hand touch my bare skin.

“Um, are you okay? You look a little out of it.” His voice is lyrical and smooth, with a base sound that adds a manly tone. Flawless. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Damn, he’s talking to me. Remember words, Tracey, say something. “Um.” Better words. “Yeah, I think so. How did you hit me?” My voice sounds distant to me, and too calm.

“Completely not paying attention. I came here to pick up my cousin from school and didn’t see him. While searching the parking lot and texting him, I kind of lost focus on the important part of driving.”

“You do know you are not supposed to text and drive, right?” Holding my head, I walk around to the back of my car, checking for damages.

He follows. “Again, I apologize for any damages. I will get everything fixed.” His voice, now factual, has lost the apologetic tone.

Examining the back of my car, there are no real damages, besides some scratches and a ding by my license plate. But as my mom would say, ‘the damages can be under the car and not noticeable, honey.’ “Well, looks like the only real damage was to my head.” I lightly let my palm touch my head, feeling a knot start to protrude from the side of my forehead.

“Can I take you to the hospital? You do seem a little dazed.” He moves to look at the car. “And after we leave the hospital, we can take your car to the body shop, because even though it doesn’t seem like there are any damages, doesn’t mean there aren’t any under the car.” Really, Mom?

“That’s true, but I don’t think I need to go to the hospital. My head just hurts. I think I will be okay once I get something to eat and a Tylenol.” Each of my words comes out slowly. “I am just going to head home and maybe go to the body shop later.” I scrunch my nose, feeling disoriented. “I think I need a nap.” My thought process is off. I put my hands out to my sides when the earth starts shaking again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says in a concerned tone. “You may have a concussion and it’s never good to go to sleep. You could slip into a coma.”

“Humph, maybe.” A striking pain shoots through my head. I reach up to touch it, seeing him do the same. His thumb grazes my hairline next to my temple, and that’s it. Everything goes black, and my body hits something hard. Maybe the car or…the ground.

I have never felt anything like this. I have been touched by many guys. Well, not touched but touched—brushed by them in the hall, held hands, given a hug. I have kissed a few guys, and not even with my first. Yes, that first. None of them ever had that type of effect on me, where I was knocked unconscious. This cannot be good. My dad is so going to kill me.

I fell in love with the short story writing after I started reading a lot of fiction fantasy. I loved the idea of creating new worlds and placing people to live within them. Then came the love. Awe...love. Specifically I love to write paranormal romance, adding a twist to everyday life. I'm a lover of YA and NA, but I've written some middle grade fantasy fiction that is soon to be released. 

You can never write 'too much,' you can never read 'too much,' you never learn 'too much,' and there is never 'too much' imagination and creation. Everyday is a new day to dream, to create, to love, to try again and again, to live, and to explore. Time may be short but we have to take as much of it as we can, to make sure it doesn't slip away. 

My moto, "Love Life's Loves because Life Loves You"

If you love something, do what you need to do to have it, the only person holding you back is you.  

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Blitz Organized by: