Ember Teaser!

A little teaser from Ember (Death Collectors, Book 1) Available August 25th!

Asher breathes violently as he clutches his hand. “I’m sorry Ember… I just.”

I grab his hand.  “Phil’s about to call the cops.” I lead him quickly toward the back door. “I can’t get caught in this mess. I’m already on probation.”

I shove open the door and we breathe fresh air. The door slams shut and the noise from the bar fight suffocates. The back parking lot is secluded from the highway and the sky is black. The lights from the neon signs flash across our faces, making us look ghostly.

Asher faces me, breathing heavily, his eyes untamed. “I’m sorry Ember. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”

My heart knocks in my chest. I feel alive, high on adrenaline. “It’s okay. Trust me when I say I’m used to bar fights.” I touch the tip of my finger to his bottom lip. “You cut your lip open.” I wipe the blood away and I start to pull my hand back.  But he covers it with his and presses it against his lips. He kisses my palm and his eyes penetrate me, making me feel exposed. Our breaths quicken, in sync and matching each other’s desire.

Then he kisses me.

My first kiss. And it’s as beautiful and exciting as everyone makes it out to be.

Maybe even better.

He covers my lips with his, quickly, like how he moved during the fight. But his touch is gentle. My skin ignites with heat and I wrap my hands around his waist. My lips part. His tongue slides in and he caresses the roof of my mouth with his tongue ring. I let out a moan.

He pulls back slightly, and I worry he’s repulsed by my enjoyment. But then he growls, wraps his fingers around my thighs, and picks me up. I enclose my legs around his waist as he continues to taste every inch of my mouth and back us against the wall, beneath the shadows and florescent lights. There is no space left between our bodies and I can feel every inch of him. His kisses bring me a feeling of ecstasy for the first time in my life.

His hands are in my hair, and trail down my neck, finally settling on my hips. He slips a hand up the back of my shirt and the contact sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. He holds onto me like I’m his lifeline, as if letting me go will kill him.

He groans against my swollen lips and steals my breath away. It’s like we’ve unleashed a hungry animal in each of us. But the sound of the sirens makes him pull back, although it looks like he doesn’t want to. His eyes are as black as coals and his lips are swollen.

“We should get out of here,” he whispers, looking like he might kiss me again.

Ember Teasers!!!!

So I did a little vote on my facebook page, asking if people wanting a steamy teaser from Ember, or a suspenseful one. It ended up being close, so I posted a teaser for each and thought I'd share them on my blog.
Hope you enjoy them :)

Teaser 1:

“I have to go.” I back toward the iron-gate. “I shouldn't be here, especially with all the stuff going on.”
He stands up and brushes off his jeans. “You mean the murder.”
“Disappearance,” I correct, picking up the pace. “They didn’t find a body.”
“Give them time,” Cameron muses. “The cops around here are a little slow.”
I spin on my heels and walk swiftly for the gate. My hair blows in the wind and my boots trample the leaves and grass. I sidestep the Angel statue and then run.
“Ember wait,” Cameron calls out. Seconds later his long fingers wrap around my arm. He reels me around and grabs my other arm. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just trying to be honest, but sometimes my bluntness is a little alarming.” Sincerity glimmers in his eyes.
My breathing speeds up. Unlike Asher’s touch, Cameron’s is burning with heat, like a flame of passion is caressing every part of my body. But like Asher’s, there is no Death Omen, no blackness, no suffocation.
“I promise I’ll never hurt you,” he whispers, slowly backing me toward the fence. “I just want to help you.”
My back hits the brick fence. “No one can help me.”
His hand travels up my shoulders, up the side of my neck, and resides on my cheek, while his other hand rests on my hip. “I could if you let me. I could make all that sadness go away.” He licks his lip as he slides his thumb along my hip. “Let me take it all away forever.”
My arms fall to my side and every limb in my body centers to him. “That sounds nice,” I murmur dazedly.
“Ember,” he purrs, sliding his hand through my hair. “Let me in.”
My head falls back and a moan escapes from my lips. “Cameron I…”
He tips my chin up. “What if I told you I could take away every ounce of pain you have and would ever feel?”
Adrenaline races through my blood. “That’s not possible. Death is pain. And death exists everywhere.”
He breathes softly, “It is possible, all you have to do is say yes.” His fingers trace down my spine and my knees buckle. His hands cup my waist and he holds my weight as I’m rendered helpless in his arms. “Give me permission.” His lips touch my cheek and he traces soft kisses toward my lips. “Please, give me permission.”
My lips part and my voice falters. “You have permission to do whatever you—”
“Ember, don’t.” Asher’s voice crashes through the moment. “Don’t promise him anything.”
I blink back to the cemetery and to Asher walking through the gates.
Cameron watches me with curiosity and a grin spreads across his face. “A friend of yours?”
“Yes,” I say as he steadies me to my feet. I can’t take my eyes off him, stunned by what happened.
He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I told you you were star struck by me.”

Teaser 2:

I stomp on the brake, but the car accelerates faster down the hill. The corner emerges. I try to down shift, but the engine grumbles. Sucking in a deep breath, I crank the steering wheel to the right. The car spins and the tires screech. The front of my car crashes into the railing. The sound is deafening, like a train roaring up the railroad tracks. There’s a split second where my car hovers over the edge, like it might not fall. But the tailgater slams into the rear end. My head smashes against the windshield, the car flips, and rolls down the hill. My seatbelt locks and I’m jerked back to the seat. My body is stabbed, beaten, broken. Then the car hits the lake. Suddenly it becomes clear: I’m going to die today.
Death feels natural, like breathing. The water pierces my skin and floods the cab of the car. I unclip my seatbelt and float to the roof, pressing my head to the ceiling. Its dark and the water is up to my neck. I let my legs float upward and I kick the side window with the heel of my boot until my calf muscles ache. I run my fingers along door and grasp the handle. Then I wait for the water to completely fill the cab.
My dad was big on survival. He taught me things like how to escape a car when it’s submerged in water. If the water’s low enough, the door will open. But once it reaches a certain point, the pressure of the water inside has to equalize with the pressure of the water on the outside. Which means I have to wait for the water to completely fill up the cab, without drowning first.
I remain calm as the water rises and rises. I slant my head back and take a deep breath before the water suffocates me completely. Immediately, I flip the handle, but it snaps off. Bubbles escape my mouth as I bang on the door. The black water encases the car and I swim for the other door, but I smack into the roof, which is concaved, forming a wall. I twirl around and bang my fist on the windshield. It’s dark. Cold. The car sinks further into the lake.
My eyes stay open as bubbles gurgle from my mouth. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. Death is no longer peaceful. The air slips away and my heart dies. The water stills. Am I dead? The metal of the car crunches as it buckles beneath the weight of the water.
“Ember,” someone whispers. “Hang on.”
I glance from left to right. Darkness and I’m alone, just like my Death Omen. A faint light swims through the water to the window, and glitters the inside the car. I reach out to touch it.
“Ember,” the voice growls. “Don’t touch it.”
The light flashes, and then shifts into a black mass. My body ignites with flames. I scream as a tunnel opens up and swallows me.

Ember Teaser!

Here is the first chapter of Ember (Death Collectors, Book 1). This is my news series and it’s next up on my release schedule.  I should have it out by the middle of August (but hopefully sooner). There’s more info about it on my blog, under the “Death Collectors” tab.

Hope you enjoy it :)

Once a blooming red rose, full of streaming life in its veins

Now a wilting black petal rupturing with death and pain

                                                                                                     —Ember

Chapter 1

I love the cemetery. It’s quiet and peaceful—it’s the only place I get a break from death. I loathe crowded places, crammed with voices and life.  It hurts to be around life. People don’t understand how close death is, right over their shoulders, around the block, at the end of a street. It’s everywhere. And I’m the only one who knows where it’s hiding. I see death every day.  But a cemetery is already dead.

The moon beams vibrantly tonight; it’s only a sliver away from being full. Dry leaves fall from the oak tree and the air smells crisp with autumn. Headstones entomb the ground and a light mist dews the grass. I lean against a tree trunk with my notebook propped open on my knee, and a pen in my hand. I scribble words that are important to me.

The cemetery is my sense of comfort, my sanctuary in a world of darkness, the one piece of light I have in my life.

I remove the tip of the pen from the page and read over my words. I sound obsessed with death, like Edgar Allan Poe or Emily Dickinson. But death is a huge part of who I am. With a simple touch I know when someone will die. Whether they’ll go painfully. If their life will be stolen.

I set the notebook on the grass and tuck the pen inside the spine. I pull my hood over my head, cross my arms, and stare out at the desolate street. One of the streetlights flickers and a dog barks from behind the front gate of a redbrick home. It’s late. I glance at my watch. Really late. I grab my notebook and start across the cemetery. The ground is damp and my clunky, black boots sink in the dirt. I eye the headstones; big, small, intricate, plain.  I wonder if the details of a headstone define the life of the person resting beneath it. If it’s big and fancy, does it mean they were loved by many? Or were they lonely, but had money? Do small and plain ones declare that they lived a lonely life?  Or were they just unmaterialistic?

I’m probably the only one crazy enough to be walking around thinking these thoughts.

The wind howls like a dust storm. Leaves whirlwind around my head. I tuck my chin down, fighting through the dust toward the front gate. I can barely see. My boot catches on the corner of a grave and I face plant onto the grass. My notebook flies from my hand and my head smacks the corner of a headstone.

“Owe,” I mumble, clutching my head. I smear dirt from my cheek. My gaze travels upward to a statuesque sculpture of a hooded figure. Its head is tucked down and in its hand is a scythe.

“The Grim Reaper, huh?” I rise to my feet and tilt my head up. “I bet you know what it’s like, don’t you? To be surrounded by death all the time? I bet you understand me.”

The wind violently picks up and carries my notebook away. Shielding my eyes from the dust, I chase after it. It dances through the leaves and glides across the grass, finally resting against a soaring angelic statue in the crook of the cemetery.  I hurry after it.

“Damn it, I am so sick and tired of doing all your dirty work. It’s such crap.”

I quickly duck behind the massive angel. No one hangs out in cemeteries late at night, except for weirdoes and people like me. (And as far as I know, I’m the only girl of my kind.).

A shovel cuts into the dirt. “I’m always the one who’s gotta dig these things up.”

I peek through the cracks between the angel’s wings. A thin guy, with frail arms and a pointy nose, stands in a hole, shoveling dirt. My notebook is inches from the discarded dirt pile. One more scoop and my life thoughts will be buried.

“If I were you, Gregory, I’d watch my tone.” A tall figure hops from the roof of small mausoleum. His hair is as pale as the moon and his eyes are like ash. His long legs stretch as he saunters toward the hole. “You may be Dante’s little pet, but you’re still not one of us, so Dante’s protection doesn’t apply.”

Gregory mutters under his breath and scoops up a shovel full of dirt.

The taller one cups his ear. “What’s that? Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“Nothing,” Gregory mumbles and continues digging.

The other guys’ smile catches in the moonlight. His face is beautiful, but burden with sadness, as if he carries the world’s sorrows on his shoulders. I want to reach out and brush my fingers along his lips, his jawline—I want to erase his pain.

The pages of my notebook flutter in the breeze and he picks it up. I cringe with embarrassment, then realize that he’s a guy who hangs out in a cemetery, digging up graves, so my penned words of death shouldn’t faze him. He flips through the pages and pauses on one particular page. He studies it and then glances around. I crouch down and hold my breath. Silence capes the night, except for the shovel scratching the dirt.

“Where’d this come from?” he asks Gregory.

I peek through the feet of the angel statue.

Gregory takes the notebook and turns it over. “I’m not sure…” He hands it back. “It says Ember on the back.”

The tall figure runs his long fingers along my name. “Ember…” His haunting voice envelops me and a breeze beckons me to step out from behind the statue. I start to step out.

“Hold it right there.” A light shines over my shoulders.

I tense. The shovel stops cutting into the dirt. The night grows quiet.

“Now slowly turn around,” a deep voice instructs. Static cuts through a stereo. “I’m with the suspect now.”

Damn it.  They’re going to think I was digging up the grave.  And this is not my first time getting into trouble. They won’t go easy on me.

“I said slowly turn around and keep your hands where I can see them,” the cop commands.

I shut my eyes and slowly elevate my hands to my side.

“Good, now turn around,” he says.

I sprint off across the graveyard.

“She’s on the move,” he yells and the speaker statics.

I sprint like a mad woman, my legs flying as I hop and maneuver around the gravestones. The cop pursues me, his footsteps loud against the dirt. I speed up as I reach the brick fence. Springing onto my toes, I leap for the top. My stomach slams against the edge and I quickly pull my legs up. The cop grabs my boot and yanks on my leg.

“Don’t even think about you little punk.” He starts to drag me back to the ground.

I try to wiggle my foot out of my boot. His hand grips higher on my leg, just below my knee. My fingertips scrape the brick as I struggle to hold on.

The cop’s free hand wraps around my other legs. “Just let—”

Suddenly, the cop releases my legs. My knee crashes into the fence and my jeans tear. I scramble to the top and glance behind me. The cop lies unconscious on the grass. The tall, dark stranger stands over him, but his eyes are locked on me.  The shadows of the trees dance across his face and wild excitement lights up his eyes like cinders.

“Ember.” His ghostly voice flows around me like smoke.

I inch toward him until the tips of my boots line with the ledge of the fence and my hand powerlessly reaches for him. I can’t fight the urge to be near him, like I’m hypnotized.

“Come here,” he purrs softly, reaching for me.

My other hand rises to my side and I start to jump of the ledge, desperate to be near him.

“Don’t move.” Sirens screech and red and blue lights flash across the dark cemetery. I flinch and squat down. A cop car is parked on the other side of the cemetery. Two cops barrel out of the cab and hurry for the gate, hollering over their radios. I glance down. The tall stranger is gone. My gaze sweeps the cemetery haunted with strange shadows. The cop starts to stir. I spin around, jump down onto the sidewalk, run down the street toward my home, never looking back.