Wednesday, November 12, 2014

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: In The Dark by Jen Colly @collyjen #Giveaway @lyricalpress #Paranormal #Suspense

In the Dark
The Cities Below # 1
By: Jen Colly
Releasing November 3, 2014
Lyrical Press / Kensington  

Demons have returned, a vengeful enemy waiting to strike. Soren and Faith must find a way to survive the evil and darkness. Faith's spur of the moment vacation, meant to free her and boost her spirits, has left her lost on the streets of Paris. And apparently, Paris is populated with something more than just humans. Vampires, suave, seductive and oh so sexy, and one such warrior vampire has set his sights on her.

When Soren hears Faith’s terrified screams, he rushes in and saves her life without considering the consequences. Two problems: one, she’s a human and clearly aware of his vampire qualities, and two, the men who attacked her were not men at all, but demons. Their target, his beloved underground city of Balinese. He can never let Faith go home again, but can she learn to love his him?

 Excerpt:  Faith looked up at the silhouette of a man curled over her, his head barely blocking the raindrops pelting her face. She was moving, her feet were not, and the city was sideways. The foreign world passed by her, the images coming slowly, as if she were seeing everything through someone else’s eyes.
She was numb, her muscles from cold, her mind from shock. Her memories seemed intact, scrambled and hazy, but intact. She remembered being afraid of flying on the airplane, and the taste of the ginger gum that kept her nausea at bay. She’d been lost in the rain on the way back to her hotel. Then two men had trapped her in an alley.
Her shoulders and ribs shuddered with chills powerful enough to make her teeth rattle. She fought through it, lifted her head and looked down at her hands.
“My purse.” The words didn’t come out right. Her jaw refused to open, and her lips had difficulty forming the simple words. She tried again. “Took my purse.”
“I have it. You need to be warm and dry right now,” the man said, keeping up his pace, never once looking at her. By the sheer confidence in his husky tones, without a doubt, this was the man who had saved her. That intense look on his face was nearly the same as when he’d pulled the muggers off her, driven them into the wall. It was oddly comforting, at the moment.
Tall buildings, probably homes, surrounded her, swaying in her field of vision as he strode along. Light peeked through several arched windows, yellow and warm.
He entered one of the larger buildings as if he owned it and carried her past several numbered doors to the end of the hallway, where he started down a creaking set of stairs. Suddenly she feared falling down those stairs, but her shuddering muscles wouldn’t allow her to hold on tighter. She closed her eyes and trusted him not to drop her.
After the last step had been left behind, she took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and almost wished she hadn’t. The basement hallway was musty, and each bare light bulb they passed only revealed cracks chasing each other across the ceiling.
He stopped, pressed her against a green door as he fished for the doorknob with the hand supporting her legs.
“Put me down,” she said, trying to help, and fully expecting him to drop her to her feet.
He fought with the knob until it finally gave and carried her inside, then kicked the door shut behind him. Dodging an old green couch with sunken cushions, he swiftly took her to the next room. She caught sight of a small bed and a green dresser with blue splotches where the paint peeled away before she was swept into a bathroom and set on the toilet as if it were a regular chair.
He left her alone in the bathroom while he rummaged through the dresser drawers in the other room, but returned quickly.
The light in the bathroom revealed him for the first time. Tall, but not towering, he stood in the doorway, rain dripping from his short hair. His straight, relaxed eyebrows followed the squared line of his forehead, giving him a very serious look.
He reached out, and she flinched. An automatic reaction, and unnecessary. His target hadn’t been her. He set a pile of clothes on the sink between them.
“Get out of those wet clothes,” he said.
She shook her head, her protest silent, but firm.
In a gentler tone, he tried again. “Look at your hands.”
She did, but only because he didn’t crowd her. Practically white, her hands shook badly.
“Dry yourself and change. You’re safe here,” he said, then shut the door.
She lifted the T-shirt from the top of the pile and held it up. A man’s shirt, the words across the front French, but she didn’t understand them. She set the shirt on the other side of the sink, and dug through the clothes. A thick pair of cotton socks and navy sweatpants, and beneath the pants, a towel. He’d given her a towel.
Smiling, she picked up the blue, fluffy thing and pressed it against her cheek. Never in her life could she remember being this happy to have a towel. Her excitement was misplaced, but she didn’t care. She leaped to the door and twisted the small lock securely.
She stripped off her sweater first, dried herself, and then threw on the T-shirt. It was comfortable, and almost fit. She struggled to pull the wet jeans from her legs. The heavy fabric clung to her skin. When she’d tugged them free, she lifted the sopping mass of clothes from the floor and tossed them into the tub.
Leaning back against the wall, she steadied her balance as she yanked on the sweatpants and socks. The sweatpants were too long. She rolled the waistband down a couple of times, which would keep the hem from getting caught underfoot.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror and paused, not completely recognizing the woman looking back. Her mascara had decided to retreat from her lashes to give her those very lovely raccoon eyes every woman dreaded, and rightly so. But it wasn’t just that. Her face looked ashen. She must be much colder than she felt.
Holding her hair over the sink, she wrung out the water. What she wouldn’t give for her hairdryer, a big Remington running full blast on high heat. She’d probably give up on her hair and point it at her feet. Leaning against the wall again, she tipped her head upside down and rubbed the already wet towel over her hair vigorously, drying it as best she could.
Her breathing came in short, labored bursts. As she stopped drying her hair and lifted her head, her vision darkened, and she let the towel fall. Blindly searching with her hands for something solid, she fell against the wall with a thud and slid to the floor.

Link to Follow Tour:
Goodreads Link:

Buy Links   Amazon | Barnes | iBooks | Kobo

Author Info
Jen Colly is the rare case of an author who rebelled against reading assignments throughout her school years. Now she prefers reading books in a series, which has led her to writing her first paranormal romance series The Cities Below. She will write about anything that catches her fancy, though truth be told, her weaknesses are pirates and vampires. She lives in Ohio with her supportive husband, two kids, one big fluffy dog, and four rescued cats.

Author Links:  Website |Facebook |Twitter | Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Tasty Book Tours said...

Thank you for hosting IN THE DARK today!

Jen Colly said...

I tell you what, you have been just fantastic today! Thank you so much for hosting and sharing In the Dark. I appreciate it! :)

Karyn Gerrard said...

Thanks Jen! Glad to help out a fellow Kensington/Lyrical author! (I just signed a contract with them a couple of months ago) ~Cheers!