We’re having a blog tour for RACE THE DARKNESS by Abbie Roads. We are so excited to share this fantastic new paranormal romance with you! Check it out and grab your copy today!!
About Race the Darkness: Cursed with a terrible gift...
Criminal investigator Xander Stone doesn't have to question you-he can hear your thoughts. Scarred by lightning, burdened with a power that gives him no peace, Xander struggles to maintain his sanity against the voice that haunts him day and night-the voice of a woman begging him to save her.
A gift that threatens to engulf them Isleen Walker has long since given up hope of escape from the nightmare of captivity and torture that is draining her life, her mind, and her soul. Except...there is the man in her feverish dreams, the strangely beautiful man who beckons her to freedom and wholeness. And when he comes, if he comes, it will take all their combined fury and faith to overcome a madman bent on fulfilling a deadly prophecy.
Barnes and Noble: http://hyperurl.co/RtDban
Indie Bound: http://hyperurl.co/RtDInB
Check out the trailer for Race the Darkness: https://youtu.be/8jC21CGolSQ
Xander paced the length of his porch, his bare feet padding across the wood, the sound pleasantly mixing with the chorus of nighttime noises rocking out on the hillside. But still turmoil roiled inside him. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was worried about Isleen. Worried about her health, her sanity, and—after finding that cross on her forehead—her safety. The thing that worried him the most was the simple fact that he cared at all. She shouldn’t dominate his mind. Was Matt right? Did the women in her family possess some strange power to bespell the men in his?
A rhythmic sound invaded. He paused in his pacing, trying to place the origin. It was the crunch of gravel under feet. Someone was jogging up the driveway toward his place. He leaped off the porch, oblivious to his bare feet, and raced toward the sound.
His eyes weren’t as sharp as his ears, but he knew—fucking knew—the figure that emerged from the curve was Isleen. She sucked and wheezed rapid breaths. Her heart beat with a frantic duh-dum, duh-dum tempo. Her gait was all wrong—sloppy and disjointed, arms flailing almost as if she were swimming instead of running. With the way she’d acted earlier toward him, something had to be terribly wrong for her to seek him out.
Adrenaline bucked through his system, charging his muscles, readying him for a fight. He scanned the lane behind her, expecting to see someone pursuing her. Nothing. He listened for the sounds of a chase. Nothing.
He sprinted toward her. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
She didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, just continued on, ignoring him as effectively as if he were invisible. For only a fraction of a second, pissed-off-ness nearly got the best of him. Then he realized she was all lights-on-but-nobody-home. Again. “Shit.” He chased after her, nabbing her by the arm. Her body swung around to face him, her forehead thunking against his sternum. The sound—an unnatural wonk of bone hitting bone separated by thick skin—reverberated through his chest. His arms trapped her close to him. “Goddamn it.” The last thing she needed was a head injury caused by him. “I didn’t mean to…”
He lost what he was going to say in the sensation of holding her. She was so petite, barely tall enough to reach his pecs, and yet she fit every angle and curve of him as if they were two pieces finally fit back together to make one. He held her until her heart shifted out of warp drive, then stepped back from her.
Moonlight silvered her skin, giving her a luminescent glow, but her face was completely devoid of expression. Her gaze fixed forward, locked on an intangible spot in the air between them. He’d seen this look at the hospital right before she spouted off about a murder she could not have known about. And yet, did know all about.
“Isleen. Snap out of it.” His voice went deeper, carrying a strength beyond what it normally possessed. He shook her hard, one rough jerk that slung her head around her shoulders. “Wake up. Now.” Wake up? Where’d that come from? Did he honestly think she was sleeping? One moment she was lost, and the next, clarity and lucidity slammed into her features.
“Xander,” she cried and flung herself against him, clawing at the back of his shirt with her hands and pressing herself so tightly against him that it felt like she was trying to hide inside his skin.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Seven Things about Abbie Roads:
- She loves Snicker Parfaits. Gotta start with what’s most important, right?
- She writes dark emotional books featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending… after torturing them for three hundred pages.
- By day she’s a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. At night she burns up the keyboard. Well… Burn might be too strong a word. She at least sits with her hands poised over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration to strike. And when it does—the keyboard might get a little warm.
- She can’t stand it when people drive slowly in the passing lane. Just saying. That’s major annoying. Right?
- She loves taking pictures of things she thinks are pretty.
- She’s represented by Michelle Grajkowski of 3 Seas Literary.
- Her first book will be out October 2016 through Sourcebooks.
Connect with Abbie:
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