Book
Info -
Title:
Crane
Series:
Legends Saga # 1
Author:
Stacey Rourke
Genre:
NA paranormal
Date
Published: May 26, 2014
Blurb-
The Horseman is
unending,
his presence
shan’t lessen.
If you break the
curse,
you become the
legend.
Washington
Irving and Rip Van Winkle had no choice but to cover up the deadly
truth behind Ichabod Crane’s disappearance. Centuries later, a
Crane returns to Sleepy Hollow awakening macabre secrets once
believed to be buried deep.
What if the
monster that spawned the legend lived within you?
Now,
Ireland Crane, reeling from a break-up and seeking a fresh start,
must rely on the newly awakened Rip Van Winkle to discover the key to
channeling the darkness swirling within her. Bodies are piling high
and Ireland is the only one that can save Sleepy Hollow by embracing
her own damning curse.
But is anyone truly
safe when the Horseman rides?
Book
Links-
Excerpt -
“Tonight
was meant to be the Harvest Ball,” Katrina said as she slid between
the folds of her crimson and taupe gown. “Now the town is meeting,
trying to concoct a plan to stop a being that death itself couldn’t
tame.”
Ichabod sat
on the edge of the bed with his back, respectfully, to Katrina while
she changed. His loaded musket lay across his lap. In the reflection
of the window in front of him he could see the soft curve of her hips
as they tapered into her narrow waist. He cleared his throat and
shifted his gaze to the floor. His chin tipped to the side, ever so
slightly, to ask, “Are you secure in our plan?”
“I am to
attend the summit on the arm of Brom Van Brunt,” she reaffirmed as
she pulled her long, blonde locks out from the back of her gown and
began tightening the laces of her bodice. “Then speak with as many
people as I can, searching for anyone that may have motives leading
to the Horseman.”
Ichabod
nodded. Mostly to himself, he muttered the remaining details they
were depending upon, “Rip will be inside as well. That man can
finesse a crowd with a skill that truly baffles. If there are secrets
to be found, he will uncover them. Irv will be outside with me,
primarily because the Horseman isn’t the only one in this town that
would like to see his head on a spike. We will be on horseback,
patrolling the grounds with a few other men that have volunteered.
You will have nothing to fear.”
Her elegant
gown in place, Katrina turned to Ichabod wearing an expression equal
parts timidity and fear. “What of Brom?”
The bed
squeaked as Ichabod shifted his weight to face her. “Boorish as his
ways may be, he cares for you. If you adopt the guise that you have
interest in him, he will do all he can to protect you inside the
gathering, while I provide you the same service outside.”
“And,”
her long lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks as she cast her gaze
to the floor, “you aren’t bothered by me being on his arm?”
In the
midst of the plotting and planning, Ichabod had slipped into the role
he knew well of military strategist. He had detached himself from the
emotional aspects—until that very moment. The reality of his
request sank in like a heavy stone. He had asked her to take another
man’s arm, asserting her place beside him. The implications of that
dug into his gut like a dull blade, churning and twisting deep.
“The mere
idea of that makes me ache,” he stated, forcing the words through
his suddenly parched throat. “Yet I would endure this hardship, and
countless others, to keep you safe.”
She
moistened her lips with a flick of her tongue, seemingly wrestling
with words that gave her pause. “Ichabod, when this is over …
w-would you call yourself mine?”
Ichabod
closed his eyes. The euphoria of that question washed over him,
cleansing him of all his sins with the promise of tomorrow. Rising to
his feet, he took her velvet soft hand in his. A love he hadn’t
known possible illuminated her striking face. “From the moment I
saw you, my heart belonged to you alone. If by some miracle you were
to give me your love in return, I would need nothing else to sustain
me the rest of my days.”
Katrina’s
palm tenderly brushed his cheek. “You have already claimed that.”
Allowing no
further hesitation, Ichabod gathered her in his arms. Katrina tipped
her head back, the soft curves of her body molding to his. Full lips
parted in an alluring invitation it would take a stronger man than
him to resist.
Title:
Raven
Series:
Legends Saga # 2
Author:
Stacey Rourke
Audience:
NA Paranormal
Genre:
Thriller/Suspense
Formats:
E-book and Paperback
Publisher:
Anchor Group Publishing
Cover by:
Najla Qamber Designs
Editor:
Melissa Ringsted
Date
Published: Sept 22, 2014
Blurb-
An
infamous love, destined nevermore,
For
death could not claim, the enchanting Lenore.
Cursed
by the malevolent spirit of the Headless Horseman, Ireland Crane
ventures to Manhattan in search of a way to break her soul crushing
bond. Instead, she discovers the lines between fact and fiction are
blurring once more. Croaking ravens. Telltale hearts. Could the works
of Poe be coming to pass with handsome Wall Street Midas Ridley
Peolte as their unwilling target?
She
walks the Earth, a plague on mankind,
searching
for he, her rotted heart doth pine.
Together,
the two unknowingly release a dark force death itself could not tame.
Surrounded by the unrelenting violence and mayhem they’ve
unleashed, Ireland feels her control over the Horseman slipping.
Before the beast within consumes her, she and her crew must follow
the clues of the dead to right a centuries’ old wrong. Will it be
enough to sate the Horseman’s appetite?
Hell
hath no fury like a ghoul scorned.
Book
Links -
Excerpt
-
Clamping her eyes on the wash of tears that threatened, Ireland
ignored the wailing of her heart … and laid a palm to each of their
cheeks. One lone tear snuck between her lashes at the cascade of
tingles seeping up her arms.
“You can’t blame them for not understanding,” a familiar
voice drawled behind her.
She spun as he neared, leaving Rip and Noah wheezing for
breath—or, more likely, completion of her task.
Techno-colored flowers bloomed in a colorless world each time the
sole of Ridley’s shoes met the earth. The crisp cut of his white,
tailored suit was accented by a burst of color from the button-down
shirt beneath that changed in hue to match the species of flowers
that sprung to life. Hydrangeas blue. Orchid purple. Lily fuchsia.
Rose coral. As he neared, Ireland noticed his eyes morphed to match
as well. The result hypnotic.
His haggard and troubled façade was a thing of the past. The man
before her exuded confidence and a zest for life from every pore. The
draw of which was so magnetic Ireland had to fight to keep her feet
planted while her body insisted she close the distance between them.
“To them this is a thrill, a game of chicken against the Reaper
himself.” Ridley paused beside her, his shoulder skimming hers.
Even then he didn’t grace her with a glance, his attention fixed on
Rip and Noah. Tipping his head toward her, the warmth of his breath
teased over her breast bone. “For us, it’s destiny.”
The moment he stepped away from her, the chill of solitude lashed
at Ireland’s soul and cut deep. Bending eye-level with her
withering subjects, Ridley pursed his rose petal lips to blow a soft,
healing breath over both of them. Wan complexions of the dying were
ripened to plump apricot. Both men blinked away their disappointment
before dipping in a low bow—foreheads to the ground in a show of
respect.
“No need for that, boys.” Ridley smoothed the front of his
suit coat, a self-depreciating chuckle playing over his lips.
Neither humbled servant budged.
“You’re like me?” Pacing in a slow circle around him,
Ireland’s eye narrowed.
He matched her steps, leading them in an intimate waltz normally
reserved for predators—or lovers.
“Like you?” He tsked. “Oh no, my darling flower. There is no
other like you. Our only similarity is being pawns in a game that
began centuries before either of our fathers got an amorous gleam in
their eyes.”
Ireland’s gaze lingered over the soft curve of his mouth,
wondering if his lips could possibly taste as delectable as they
looked. “How do we play?”
Curling one finger into a ruffled tuft of her skirt, Ridley pulled
her to him. Bowing his head, he brushed his cheek over the delicate
curve of her collarbone. “The game is already in motion,” he
murmured. “The rule sheet not meant for our eyes. All we can do now
is stay alive.”
Ireland weaved her fingers into his hair, yanking his head back
with a passion driven force that bordered on violent. “I’ve taken
lives. I’m a monster,” she snarled against his lips, tormenting
them both with the agonizing veil of energy that denied their touch.
His hand snaked up her arm to find her fingers and loosen her
grasp. Palm to palm. Fingers entwined with fingers. “Does granting
it make me any better?”
Ridley didn’t give her time to answer. With one hand pressed to
the small of her back he crushed her to him. Their lips met
with a desperate urgency that caused Heaven and Earth to quake in
nervous anticipation of what was coming …
About
The Author-
The
Gryphon Series is written by Stacey Rourke. She lives in Michigan
with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and two giant, drooly
dogs. Stacey loves to travel, has an unhealthy shoe addiction and
considers herself blessed to make a career out of talking to the
imaginary people that live in her head. She is currently hard at work
on the continuations of this series as well as other literary
projects. The Gryphon Series is available wherever fine books are
sold.
Twitter
@Rourkewrites
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