The
13th
Descent
by
Ky Lehman
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
ONE
CHOICE CAN MAKE AN IMMORTAL HUMAN.
BUT WHAT
CHOICES NEED TO BE MADE TO GO BACK AGAIN?
The
revolutionary year following Serenay "Ren" Avalon's
eighteenth birthday could rival Clark Kent's entire adolescence.
After
her mother and her grandmother were killed in a car bomb explosion at
the heart of their sleepy hillside town where nothing extraordinary
usually happens, she discovers that her mother is actually alive and
in hiding, her long lost father is a Father, and her best friend, who
turns out was once an Archangel, has taken a gargantuan step back in
his evolution to live on Earth with her for the past thirteen
lifetimes. And besides being the only one in her immediate circle
with a serious case of past life dementia, she learns that during her
first lifetime, she was married to one of the greatest teachers
history has ever known who is now the gorgeous lead singer of a hot
new rock band taking the world by storm, and who is keen to meet up
with her again in the twenty first century.
As Ren
realizes that the powerful family name she bears also brings with it
the promise of an unnatural death, she is reminded that it has always
brought hope to people on both sides of the veil, human and Tor. As
the world draws closer to being completely shrouded by the dark
cloaks of her age-old enemies, the Bloodstones, she now, more than
ever before, has to draw strength from her origins to protect her
family and their ancient truth from this global force responsible for
torturing and killing centuries of her ancestors.
As she
struggles to unearth who she was, who she is, and who she chooses to
be, as well as the expectations of her first mortal love and the
heavenly love she has always guiltily denied, she has until midnight
on the Solstice find a way to bring light to a compromised heart and
to a world on the brink of perpetual darkness.
This
first book in The Rosefire Trilogy by debut YA author, Ky Lehman, is
a reminder of how the choices we make in the throes of love, loss,
hope, and adversity are what makes the divine human, and the human
divine.
Excerpt;
“Come
on, Renay! You’re as slow as a wet week,” she snaps.
“Right
behind you,” I grumble, trying to coax my jelly legs to step out of
the car.
She
bustles us inside and disarms her house alarm. She grabs my hand,
leads me straight to the navy blue comfy couch and gestures for me to
sit. “Drink?” she asks.
“No,
thanks.”
She goes
to the kitchen and gets me a tall glass of water anyway.
Then
everything goes from strange to downright bizarre when she sits down,
squishes in next to me, puts her arm around my shoulders and rests
her cheek on my hair. I am wedged in-between her and the armrest: I
couldn’t move if I tried, and I honestly don’t want to. Hugs from
my one and only aunt are like sunny days in the winter. They are
rare. They are warm. They smell of cream and cinnamon. They go by too
quickly. And you know you’ll have to wait a while for the next one.
“Look
at me, Renay,” she gently commands. Bleary eyed, she carefully
scans my face and sighs.
It seems
she is already regretting what she is yet to say. A chill of
forewarning forces a shiver: it sets my heart pounding and my legs
that have finally regained feeling start to twitch and shake,
preparing to run. She senses my panic and holds me tighter, and
starts to softly hum a familiar tune that Nanna must have used to
calm her down too. Slowly, the dread resides and the warmth returns.
My stiff posture thaws allowing me to slump into her side. Realising
she has been given the green light, she takes a deep breath and
starts talking.
Aunt
Romey has never been one to beat around the bush. Simple English. No
fluff. The bare facts followed by her opinion of them. But this time,
the candour I usually appreciate brings with it a realisation that
hits me so hard, that, for the first time since the bomb went off, I
am relieved the undercooked takeout chicken kept me home that night.
Bedtime
stories that once lulled me into sweet dreams now leave me feeling
cold, heavy and sick.
Horrifying
truth gives a voice to the intoxicated mutterings of a grieving
husband and father.
Nanna’s
fairy tales.
Georgie
Pa’s drunken rants.
All of
the frayed strands and loose ends I’ve obliviously left hanging
tangle and weave into the blood stained tapestry that is Aunt Romey’s
history lesson.
Three
versions of the same unfathomable story, each with its own
conclusion. The fairy tale ends in hope.
The
drunken rant ends in fear.
And the
history lesson will only end with the death of the Three Roses, who
my newfound enemies believe are Nanna, Mum and me.
Surrounded
by the ghosts of our ancestors and their vindicating screams, I cling
to the only olive branch within reach.
Mum may
be on the run, but she is alive and well.
But the
sinewy little branch is not strong enough to bear the weight of
centuries of lost life. It snaps, and I limply fall into large,
familiar, bloodstained hands that carry me off into the black quiet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR
Bio and Links:
KY
LEHMAN is a novelist, a children's author, a teacher of swimming and
water safety, wife to her high school sweetheart and the proud mother
of their three very tall sons. She lives in the Yarra Ranges,
Victoria, Australia with her husband and their children where she is
currently writing the second book in The Rosefire Trilogy, The 13th
Rising.
SOCIAL
MEDIA LINKS & WEBSITES
@KyLehman13
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Thank you for having me! Cheers, Ky :-)
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