Stolen
Dreams
Cassie
Scot
Book
4
Christine
Amsden
Genre:
Urban fantasy, mystery, romance, paranormal, new adult
Publisher:
Twilight Times Books
Date
of Publication: June 25, 2014 (ebook)
October
15, 2014 (paperback)
ISBN:
978-1-60619-281-8
ASIN:
Coming soon
Number
of pages: 260
Word
Count: 84,000
Cover
Artist: Ural Akyutz
Book
Description:
Edward
Scot and Victor Blackwood have despised one another for nearly a
quarter of a century, but now their simmering hatred is about to
erupt.
When
Cassie Scot returns home from her sojourn in Pennsylvania, she finds
that her family has taken a hostage. Desperate to end the fighting
before someone dies, Cassie seeks help from local seer Abigail
Hastings, Evan Blackwood’s grandmother. But Abigail has seen her
own death, and when it comes at the hand of Cassie’s father, Victor
Blackwood kills Edward Scot.
But
things may not be precisely as they appear.
Evan
persuades Cassie to help him learn the truth, teaming them up once
again in their darkest hour. New revelations about Evan and his
family make it difficult for Cassie to cling to a shield of anger,
but can Evan and Cassie stop a feud that has taken on a life of its
own?
Conclusion
to the Cassie Scot series.
Excerpt
“I–”
My cell phone rang, saving me the challenge of coming up with a
plausible lie. I answered without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Cassie,
dear, how are you and my grandson getting along?” It was Abigail. I
had the volume turned up loud enough that Evan could hear. His eyes
widened, and he stepped closer. Too close, but I pretended the
proximity didn’t affect me in the slightest.
“Abigail,
where are you? What are you doing?”
“You
know the answer to that question, Cassie. And as much as I’d love
to give you and Evan a chance to work through more of your issues, I
find I have a selfish last request.”
My
heart squeezed. “What?”
“I
don’t want to die alone.” The words were a bare whisper, but both
Evan and I heard.
“Where
are you?”
“At
the overlook around back. Hurry.” The call ended.
“What
did she mean?” Evan asked. “What do you know?”
I
was already on my way out the front door, Evan right on my heals. To
simplify matters, and to get to her as soon as possible, I decided to
give him as much of the truth as I could. “She says someone has to
die, and if it’s not her, then it’s going to be your parents.”
“What?
When did she say that?”
“In
snatches for a week, but most of it earlier tonight, right before I
came over.” I was out the door now, heading around back up the
paved path wide enough for Abigail’s wheelchair to navigate.
To
my immense relief, Evan didn’t question me further. He followed me
for a few paces, then rushed ahead, moving too quickly for me to keep
up even when I broke into a run.
She
had her chair parked at the top of the hill, overlooking the lake
below and a spectacular sunset above. Either I had never seen colors
so vibrant before, or I had never paid proper attention. It was as if
the heavens were saying farewell.
My
father was nowhere in sight. I had half expected to see him there,
and managed a sigh of relief when I didn’t. It was short lived,
though.
Evan
knelt in front of his grandmother, holding her right hand in his.
When I arrived, I sank to the paved earth at her other side, taking
her left hand in mine. The skin was papery thin and so frail I feared
it would flake away.
“Thank
you.” She didn’t look at either one of us, and her voice was
whisper-thin.
“You
don’t have to die,” Evan said. “There has to be another way
out. How are you going to die?”
“I-I
don’t know. I can’t see past my own death. It’s made things...
difficult these past few months.”
“Then
how do you know you’re doing the right thing?” I asked. Demanded
might be a better word. “How do you know your death will prevent
anything?”
“I
didn’t have long to live anyway. My heart is weak, and.... I don’t
want to talk about it. Please. I don’t have long. Talk to me about
something nice.” There was a hitch in her voice that told me no
matter how she had prepared for this moment, she wasn’t ready to
die. That realization, more than anything else, brought the first
tears to my eyes.
“Don’t
cry for me. I’ll be all right. My husband’s been gone these many
years now, and I’ve been alone.”
I
felt Evan’s free hand take mine, and I didn’t even think about
yanking it away. For once, his touch didn’t feel anything except
comforting. He needed it. I needed it. And so it was.
“Did
you like my invitations?” Abigail asked.
“Why
did you send them?” Evan asked.
“I
don’t suppose you two would consider it a dying woman’s last
request?” she asked.
“Nice
try,” I said.
Evan
didn’t say anything, although I became more aware of his hand
holding mine.
“Seriously,”
Abigail said, “will you at least talk to one another? Really talk?”
I
closed my eyes, swallowed hard, and nodded. The request was at least
as manipulative as the first because she knew I couldn’t deny this
one. It was too reasonable.
“Good.”
She squeezed my hand.
That’s
when her house exploded.
About
the Author:
Christine
Amsden has been writing fantasy and science fiction for as long as
she can remember. She loves to write and it is her dream that others
will be inspired by this love and by her stories. Speculative fiction
is fun, magical, and imaginative but great speculative fiction is
about real people defining themselves through extraordinary
situations. Christine writes primarily about people and
relationships, and it is in this way that she strives to make science
fiction and fantasy meaningful for everyone.
At
the age of 16, Christine was diagnosed with Stargardt’s Disease, a
condition that effects the retina and causes a loss of central
vision. She is now legally blind, but has not let this slow her down
or get in the way of her dreams.
In
addition to writing, Christine teaches workshops on writing at Savvy
Authors. She also does some freelance editing work.
Christine
currently lives in the Kansas City area with her husband, Austin, who
has been her biggest fan and the key to her success. They have two
beautiful children.
Tour giveaway $100 Amazon gift card from July 15-October 15. Here is the code: a Rafflecopter giveaway
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ReplyDeleteI agree with Sara, I didn't want the Hunger Games to end.
ReplyDeleteThe Maze Runner. Did it end well? Kind of but not really.
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