Extraordinary
Love
Micah
Persell (author
touring),
Kathleen Shaputis, Holley Trent, Andrea R. Cooper, Candace Sams,
Spring Stevens, Bobbi Romans, Lisa White, Becky Flade, Danica Winters
Genre:
Paranormal
Publisher:
Crimson Romance
Date
of Publication: August 4, 2014
ISBN:
1440583269
ISBN
13: 9781440583261
ASIN:
Book
Bundle containing 10 full category-length novels
Book
Description:
Everybody
needs love — especially those sexy shapeshifters, gentlemen ghosts,
misunderstood demons and witches, and intergalactic leaders. You’ll
find all of these otherworldly heartthrobs -- and the strong, sexy
women who make their perfect matches -- in this captivating
collection of paranormal titles from Crimson Romance.
Titles
include:
Of
Eternal Life: Micah Persell
Her
Ghost Wears Kilts: Kathleen Shaputis
A
Demon in Waiting: Holley Trent
The
Garnet Dagger: Andrea R. Cooper
The
Peacekeeper’s Soul: Candace Sams
Embrace
the Fire: Spring Stevens
Swamp
Magic: Bobbi Romans
Discovery:
Lisa White
Fated
Souls: Becky Flade
The
Nymph’s Labyrinth: Danica Winters
Available
at Amazon
Chapter
One Of Eternal Life by Micah Persell
Abilene
Miller, sitting cross-legged on the floor, squinted at the rolls of
gauze on the shelf in front of her through the fringe of her lashes.
When the gauze blended into something resembling a snow-covered
mountain, she sighed with satisfaction and leaned her head back
against the wall behind her. The supply closet was the coolest place
in the hospital, and with this little trick, she could almost fool
herself into thinking she was not in the God-forsaken Mojave Desert.
“Southern
California, you lying bitch,” she murmured as she took a vehement
bite from her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Dreams
of rolling ocean waves, vibrant night life, and Disneyland had
quickly given way to the reality that was Needles, California: a
small town of 4,000 outside of the Mojave National Preserve.
Of
course, the two military recruiters who had come to her hometown of
Aspen, Colorado, right after med school to convince her to come work
in their “cutting edge” research facility had played up those
very tourist attractions in a way that merited a court martial for
perjury. If that was even a thing that could happen. She didn’t
know. Military I am not, she thought in amusement as she set aside
her sandwich for a baggie of Oreos.
She
sighed again, this time in disgust. Top 5 percent of my class at Duke
University Medical School, and I get duped. She hadn’t even begun
her residency, and these guys had wanted her. Really, really wanted
her. Enough to throw an obscene amount of money at her, making “no”
an impossibility. And if she had thought it was suspicious that they
wanted to hire her before she had even seen the facility, the pull of
finally being on her own had overshadowed the oddity.
She
snorted. “On her own” was proving to be an elusive concept. In
fact, she felt as though every step she took was measured. She lived
in a military dormitory with the four other women who worked in the
labs. They all carpooled to work each morning, and the head of the
hospital, Major Taylor, seemed to lurk around every corner, as aware
of her movements as her overbearing parents.
Abilene
knew she’d made a mistake in taking this job. She just so badly
needed to prove herself. What was that old adage? If it sounds too
good to be true, don’t effing move into a military compound?
“Abilene,
you in here?”
She
gave an unfeminine grunt in response and returned her attention to
her Oreos. The door edged open, and Dahlia looked in.
“Oh,
Abi, hon, are you fantasizing that the gauze is snow again?”
“Among
other things,” Abilene replied.
Dahlia
shut the door behind her and sank down to the floor beside Abilene,
reaching over and snagging an Oreo from the baggie. She turned her
warm caramel-colored eyes toward Abilene.
“Tough
day?”
Abilene
met her friend’s gaze. “Dahlia, how many patients have you seen
today?”
Understanding
lit in her friend’s eyes. Dahlia had been at the facility longer
than Abilene. She had been recruited straight out of the University
of Pennsylvania, also before her residency, and had been working here
for nearly ten months. From their talks, Abilene knew it had been a
long ten months.
“Abi,
I haven’t seen any patients today. You know that.”
Abilene
nodded. Both women had come to this hospital in part because they
believed in the cause. According to the military recruitment team
that had visited each of them, the government was conducting an
experiment in which they planned to refurbish small, abandoned
military buildings in rural areas. These facilities would be for the
local population as well as for the processing of the armed forces’
medical tests. The facilities would employ civilian doctors, but they
would be funded by the government and sanctioned by the military.
It
was nice in theory; however, the largely Native American population
in Needles viewed any help from the government with suspicion,
understandably so, and avoided the new hospital as though they still
used plague-ridden blankets — a reaction the government had to have
expected, which lead Abilene to wonder what the real purpose of this
facility was. It was hard to believe she and the other women were
here just to run labs.
“What
are we doing here?” Abilene pushed a hand through her short blonde
curls in frustration. “Damn it, I want to see patients. I want to
save lives. I want to do something.” Dahlia broke eye contact and
looked at the floor.
Abilene
blew out a breath. “Sorry.” She offered a smile. She’d gotten
carried away again. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Dahlia. I know you’re
frustrated, too.”
Dahlia
gave Abilene’s knee a squeeze. “Hey,” she shrugged, “the
government is paying us to run labs and make friends. What’s to
complain about?” She rose to her feet in effortless grace, turning
to offer Abilene a hand up. “Come on. Treat you to a Diet Coke from
the vending machine?”
This
was turning into a tradition among the women at the hospital.
Whenever one of them had a meltdown, it always ended with Diet Coke,
which, personally, Abilene loathed. The other women sucked it down
like ambrosia.
“Oh
baby, you know just what I like,” Abilene said in a breathy voice,
grasping Dahlia’s proffered hand while shoving thoughts of her
disappointing career aside. She rose to her feet, much less
gracefully than Dahlia. “You and your weird Swan Lake moves suck,
you know,” she grumbled.
Dahlia
chuckled and glided out into the hall.
•
• •
Awareness
flooded his senses so quickly he choked on his gasp of air. For
several moments all he could do was gulp as his body took over in its
need for oxygen. His lungs burned. He could hear his ragged breaths
echoing around him, bouncing around an empty cavern.
Where
am I?
His
instinct urged him to take in any details he could. He heard a
measured beep. His frantic mind wouldn’t place it. In fact, he
couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but that hysterical pull
of air. Panic crept into the edges of his consciousness, causing his
heart rate to thump.
Where
was he? What was happening? Why was he … afraid?
God,
not fear.
His
mind clamped down on him. Fear was dangerous.
Regulate
breathing. Determine surroundings. He clenched his teeth behind
closed lips. Slowly, steadily, he drew a measured breath through his
nose. The debilitating fear in his chest abated. Again, an internal
voice whispered.
He
pulled another breath through flared nostrils, this time blowing it
out between parted, parched lips. As the panic receded, he noticed
the incessant beeping slowed. In an instant, he discerned the
beeping: his own heart rate.
A
medical facility.
I’m
hurt? He took mental inventory of his body. The sudden awareness of
his limbs brought an onrush of pain. His bones felt crushed, agony
knifed through him, and he groaned in the back of his throat.
Pain.
Familiar pain. He was not a stranger to this anguish. He eased his
eyes open. An involuntary moan escaped his lips, and he squeezed his
eyes shut against the bright lights.
“1457,
subject is stirring. Shows signs of light-related visual pain.”
Intense,
animal fear arose at the sound of the clinical voice above his head.
At the alarming reference to a subject.
As
in test subject? Ah, God …
He
held his breath as he processed this new information, what the
presence of that voice meant.
I’m
not alone.
For
some reason, instead of calming him, this revelation ratcheted the
terror tighter, to the snapping point. The inner voice whispered
urgently:
This
man is dangerous.
A
lock fell from a hidden cache of information in his brain. He
recognized the voice that whispered to him. The Voice had been his
constant companion since this nightmare had begun. Now, the Voice
whispered the identity of the other person in the room: The
Tormentor. The beep above his left shoulder sped up as panic rushed
in again. The muscles in his arms and legs clamped down as his mind
scrambled over fight-or flight.
This
involuntary movement caused more pain to slice through him, and he
just stopped another moan from rising out of his chest. He could not
let himself make any sounds of distress. Another revelation from that
hidden instinct: Hide your suffering. He loves it.
Oh,
God. How did he know that? There was no doubt in his mind that he
knew that from personal experience. This newest revelation solved his
fight-or-flight dilemma: flight.
He
moved his left arm infinitesimally to determine how much pain he
would be dealing with when he fled. He became aware of the cold,
cutting metal impeding further movement.
A
new flare of panic. Oh, no. Not that. He moved his arm again and met
the same immovable restraint. He tried to move his feet. He was
shackled. The sharp edges of the metal binding his wrists and ankles
bit into his skin, adding to the buffet of pain, but his terror would
not allow him to cease his struggles.
His
mind screamed at him, urging his body to do the impossible.
“1500,
subject is showing usual onset of panic at regained consciousness.
Thrashing has opened wounds at the sites where he is restrained.”
The
last of his confusion melted away. He remembered. He remembered
everything, and knew he was lost. There would be no escape, just as
there had been no escape for the past eight years. He’d been
through this before. The panicked awakening. The fierce pain swamping
every corner of his existence. The dawning horror of remembered
tortures.
When
he forced his eyes open, ignoring the sting of the bright operating
room lights, a familiar figure approached.
“Always
such a fuss, hmm, Eli?” The Tormentor tsked. Eli recoiled. His name
was not safe with that man. He never heard it without being reminded
that he had no control over himself or his situation.
His
struggles against the metal restraints now resulted in a rather
satisfying cacophony, but still only caused blood to drip down his
arms and pool beneath his feet. The Tormentor approached, eyeing the
damage Eli had done to himself with a sadistic leer that turned Eli’s
stomach.
“Blood
is strength, you know.” The Tormentor shook his head in
mock-sorrow. “What a pity that you seem to hold it in such low
regard.”
A
feral growl resonated in Eli’s chest, and he punched his head up
from the stretcher to glare into the Tormentor’s eyes. “I’m
going to kill you.
I’m
going to make sure everyone knows what you’ve done here, and then,”
he paused to ensure the Tormenter was looking at him, “I’m going
to kill you.”
The
Tormentor cocked an eyebrow and raised a recording device to chin
level. “0817, subject is displaying the symptoms of aggression that
have heretofore been associated with memory recollection. Has
threatened death. Again.” He clicked off the recording device and
slipped it into the pocket of his scrubs.
“‘What
I’ve done here,’ hmm?” He leaned down until his face almost
touched Eli’s. “What I’ve done here is what you signed up for,
soldier.
Nothing
more, nothing less.” He straightened with a sneer and turned toward
the door.
One
of the two guards on the other side of the see-through barrier keyed
a code into the door, and the hiss of released pressure and a
grinding of gears announced that the door was unlocked. The Tormentor
paused with his hand on the handle and turned to announce over his
shoulder,
“Number 140 begins in four hours. Perhaps you should use this time
to gather your strength instead of waste it.” He twisted the handle
and left the room.
Four
hours.
In
just four hours they were going to conduct their one hundred fortieth
experiment.
Number
14: gunshot wound to the chest. The cold feel of steel pushed against
his sternum. The force of the bullet driving his body into the
unforgiving metal at his back. Gunpowder stinging his nostrils as his
teeth chattered from the cold caused by his bleeding out.
Number
58: asphyxiation by smothering. Excruciating burning in his lungs.
The flailing of his limbs as he fought the restraints in a need to
knock the oppressive hand from his mouth and nose. Stars dotting his
vision as his brain fought the lack of oxygen.
His
heart rate sped up to match his ragged breathing. Number 100:
dismemberment. He couldn’t stifle the moan that memory dredged up,
hearing in his mind the buzz of the bone saw, feeling the heat of
whirring metal on flesh. His Tormentor had informed him that they had
wanted to make the one hundredth “special.”
He
was panting like an animal now. Four hours. In four hours, they were
going to kill him.
For
the one hundred fortieth time.
About
the Author:
Micah
Persell, winner of the 2013 Virginia HOLT Award of Merit for her
first novel Of Eternal Life, holds a bachelor's degree in English and
a double master's degree in literature and English pedagogy. She is
an avid reader of all types of literature, but has a soft spot for
romance. She currently teaches high school English classes in
Southern California. Her paranormal romance series, Operation: Middle
of the Garden, and her "wild and wanton" editions of
Austen's Emma and Persuasion are available now through Crimson
Romance.
My review;
I really liked the twists and turns in this book. I also liked the characters and some of the storyline. It was too graphic for me although others may like it. The author is a great writer and she has written a lot of paranormal novels that I would like to read. I give this book a 4/5. I was given this book for the purpose of a review and all opinions are my own.
I really liked the twists and turns in this book. I also liked the characters and some of the storyline. It was too graphic for me although others may like it. The author is a great writer and she has written a lot of paranormal novels that I would like to read. I give this book a 4/5. I was given this book for the purpose of a review and all opinions are my own.
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