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Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Monday, February 22, 2016

her life is no fairy tale - Through the Veil (Aisling Chronicles) by Colleen Halverson

Elizabeth Tanner is no Tinkerbell, and her life is no fairy tale. Broke and drowning in student loans, the one thing she wants more than anything is a scholarship from the Trinity Foundation. 


Description:

Release Date: February 22nd, 2016

Elizabeth Tanner is no Tinkerbell, and her life is no fairy tale. Broke and drowning in student loans, the one thing she wants more than anything is a scholarship from the Trinity Foundation. But after the ancient Irish text she's studying turns out to be more than just a book, she becomes their prisoner instead. And when Trinity reveals Elizabeth is half-Fae, she finds herself at the center of a plot to save the magical races of Ireland from a brutal civil war.

As Commander of Trinity's elite warriors, Finn O'Connell isn't used to having his authority challenged. He doesn't know whether to punish or protect the infuriating young woman in his custody. When he discovers the Dark Fae want to use Elizabeth's abilities to control the source of all power in the universe, he'll risk everything to help her.

At the mercy of Trinity and enslaved to the Dark Fae, Elizabeth finds herself alone on the wrong side of an Irish myth thousands of years in the making. Refusing to be a pawn in their game, Elizabeth has to fight her way back to the man she loves, but to do so, she must wage her own war against the magic that binds her.

EXCERPT




I turned the corner and took in the large man towering over Candace’s shiny blond head. Tapping his foot and muttering something about being “late for another meeting,” he shot her a menacing scowl. He clutched the edge of the desk as if he might overturn it and swallow our intern whole like a mini eggroll.

Candace bit her lip, her big brown manga eyes wide with bubbling anxiety as she fumbled with some files.

I hated a bully. Being an army brat with a new school almost every year, I could spot one a mile away.

“Can I help you?” I threw back my shoulders and tried to make myself appear taller.

The man puffed his linebacker chest. “Finn O’Connell. I’m with the Trinity Foundation. I have an appointment with Dr. Kevin Forrester.” He had a crisp Irish accent, his consonants cutting through the shafts of afternoon light spilling into the room.

“I’m sorry, but Dr. Forrester is out.”

Where are you, old man?

I stepped forward, pasting a confident smile on my face. “Is there something I could help you with?”

Mr. O’Connell stalked over to me, and I fought the urge to step back. Six foot five and no problems with invading personal space, the man from Trinity emitted waves of heat, and his body hummed like a pulsing engine shrouded in gleaming black chrome.

My heart raced as I tilted my head up and up to meet a pair of intense gray eyes that made me forget my last name. Gritting my teeth, I steeled myself, crossing my arms. Never show fear: rule number one for managing the bullies in your life.

“Dr. Forrester recently acquired a new manuscript—”

“The Book of Arranmore!”

Finn tilted his head, trying to make sense of the jumble of consonants I had just vomited. “Excuse me?”

“Um, yes. The Book of Arranmore. Sorry.” I twisted my mouth into some semblance of a smile, but inside my stomach knotted, thinking of the changing pictures, the shifting text. “It’s a wonderful new addition to our collection.”

Finn glanced down the hallway toward the archives. “Would you mind if I take a look?”

“Um…” I curled my fingers into my palm. “I think it might be best if we wait for Dr. Forrester. If you would like to come back later—”

“No, I would not like to come back later. My time is precious, Miss…?”

I raised my eyebrows, bristling at the Miss. “Tanner. Elizabeth Tanner.”

“Miss Tanner,” he said. “As a contributing member to this institution, I think I am entitled to a small preview.”

Entitled. Only certain kinds of men could throw that word around. Men in Burberry leather trench coats, dry-cleaned, pressed shirts so white they glistened like morning snow. Men with large checkbooks. Men, who, with the flick of a lazy, indecipherable signature could decide the destiny of my academic career.

“Of course, Mr. O’Connell,” I said. “We have it in the back here, if you would like to follow me. I was just working on it.”

Finn rode my heels, and I hurried to keep some distance between us. Opening the door and crossing the reading room, I darted to my workspace, leaning against the desk to establish my territory. I raised my chin, but inside my stomach fluttered as Finn took in the mountains of scattered notes I had amassed over the past few weeks. A messy desk is the sign of a true genius, right? Judging from the scowl on the Irishman’s face, he didn’t seem to think so.

I took a deep breath and was about to open my mouth to wax intellectual on The Book of Arranmore when my hand slipped over the computer mouse. AC/DC screeched across the wood-paneled walls, elaborating on the calamitous effects of American thighs.

I let out a squeak, whirling around and fumbling to press pause, my hands shaking violently. The music stopped mid-scream, and then silence.

“Interesting taste in music, Miss Tanner.”

His words burned hot against the side of my neck, and I gasped. Finn stood a mere inch behind me. He stared down at the computer screen, the blue light flashing on the teasing smile spread across his face. Heat bloomed in my cheeks, and I clicked on the tiny X to close out the program.

“Oh, that wasn’t mine!” I brushed my hair out of my eyes. 

“These dang undergrads. I mean, who listens to AC/DC, right?”

Finn’s smile faded, his dark stare replacing the brief lightness in his features. I chewed on my lip, arrested for a moment by the impossible length of his eyelashes.

“Is this it?” Finn turned and planted his fists on the table, caging the manuscript with his arms.

“Yes.” Closing in on Finn, I breathed in the clean, leather smell emanating from his long coat. Warm and intoxicating, he smelled like a mix of fresh laundry and badass.


            

About the author:
As a child, Colleen Halverson used to play in the woods imagining worlds and telling stories to herself. Growing up on military bases, she found solace in her local library and later decided to make a living sharing the wonders of literature to poor, unsuspecting college freshman. After backpacking through Ireland and singing in a traditional Irish music band, she earned a PhD in English with a specialization in Irish literature. When she’s not making up stories or teaching, she can be found hiking the rolling hills of the Driftless area of Wisconsin with her husband and two children. 

Website ** Goodreads ** Facebook ** Twitter 

5 comments:

Jan Lee said...

The excerpt makes me want to read this book. An egotistical, tall, leather wearing man smelling of fresh laundry and badass...why wouldn't I want to read this book?? lol :)

Andreea Dragan said...

Yes, I want to read it. The cover is so perfect. <3

Diane Elizabeth said...

I really like the excerpt and the cover is stunning!

Bridgett Wilbur said...

I just really love the excerpt and I can't wait to read the book.

Unknown said...

That cover immediately caught my attention! It's sooo beautiful. :)