Book Blurb & Info
Awaken
The Soulkeepers # 2
By Lori Adams
Sophia St. James has every reason to be happy: she survived the kiss of death from the seductive Demon Knight Dante and is free to be with Michael, her sexy Guardian Angel. She eagerly begins her Awakening to become a Spirit Walker and help lost souls cross over. But her training is fraught with setbacks, and Michael begs her to stop. The life of a Spirit Walker is far too dangerous, and he won’t be able to protect her.
Then Dante returns, threatening to drag Sophia to Hell so they can finally be together. Terrified of losing everything she has worked for, Sophia turns the tables on Dante, luring him into a deception that may get them both killed. The stakes climb even higher when Dante’s ally, Wolfgang, emerges from Hell with one order: kill Sophia. Will Michael once again be Sophia’s saving grace or will the Awakening give her the power she needs to save herself?
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He’s going to kill me.
It’s an understanding that sprouts desperation and a need for sanctuary. A high snowbank thirty yards to my right will do nicely. If I can reach it.
I scan the woods again with the unmistakable feeling that the frost has eyes, and I am being watched by something or someone hiding in plain sight. It’s such a familiar sensation, and yet . . . I don’t know what name to put to it, so I concentrate on the murmur of low voices behind me. I hold my breath, straining to hear.
“You aren’t really going to kill her? Are you?” Raph demands.
“Yes,” Michael answers dispassionately.
Shit. I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t really wanna hear this. Do I?
I reach down with my free hand and tap the iPhone in my pocket. My music is set to play “All Hail Santa” by the Anti-Heros.
If I’m gonna die, it might as well be to the sound of angsty holiday music. Right?
I listen to the brief intro while mapping out my course over the uneven terrain. It’ll be disorderly at best, trampling over things I can’t see and sinking into things that can’t accommodate me. Nature has conspired against me. I am forever intruding on life.
When the screaming blasts in my earbuds, I jolt into action and take off running. The virgin snow is not smooth and penetrating; it’s packed and crunchy under my boots—the earth’s hard crust that I was not engineered to overcome. The sound is horrifying for someone trying to sneak. I’m doomed.
A black streak flashes in my peripheral; they’re coming. Fear rises in me because they move with unnatural speed.
Just keep running!
I navigate haphazardly around misshapen lumps and scrappy saplings determined to slow my progress. The wall of snow is less than ten yards away. Almost there.
When I’m within range, I bound off a log and launch myself over the wall of snow. I sail parallel to the ground and then fling out my right arm, firing with reckless abandon. I rotate a quarter turn just as two shots slam into my chest. One stops my music and the other knocks the wind out of me and I rotate again, faceup. My body is splayed like a sacrifice, and I glimpse the bright blue sky as I land—not on the ground, but on a pile of writhing bodies.
“What the hell, Sophia?” Duffy hollers from somewhere beneath me. Angry muffled voices shout and curse at me. I have inadvertently flung myself onto the gang’s mosh pit of a hiding spot.
“Sorry! Sorry!” I ride the wave of people jostling me to the edge, where I’m unceremoniously dumped to the ground. “Oomph!”
Six of my friends—Bailey, Rachel, Duffy, J.D., Holden, and Casey James—are a pile of fat ski jackets and chunky boots. As usual, they have congregated to form a team without telling me.
“Somebody’s got a hand on my ass!” Casey yells from the tangled heap.
“Not me!” Bailey says, jerking her hand back.
“Who said I didn’t like it?” Casey grumbles, and everybody laughs.
The bodies crawl apart and sit back, staring at one another. Well, mostly staring at me. I’ve blown their cover by invading their frozen foxhole. Everyone is sporting splattered paint. But again, mostly me.
A burst of laughter brings all eyes up, and there are Michael and Raph standing over us with their paintball guns. Their pale blue eyes practically glow with amusement. The sun illuminates their blond hair like halos, reminding me of their true identities; they are angels. Real guardian angels living right here in Haven Hurst.
Lori Adams is the author of the Soulkeepers series: Forbidden, Awaken, and Unforgiven. She wrote her first book—about scary sharks—at the age of eight. Now she writes New Adult, young adult, and middle-grade fiction. Originally from Oklahoma, Adams lives in Southern California with her husband and two daughters.
Author Links
Website: http://loriadamsbooks.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheSoulkeepersSeries
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LoriAdams33
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1469861.Lori_Adams
Amazon / B&N / Kobo / iTunes
Book Excerpt
It’s an understanding that sprouts desperation and a need for sanctuary. A high snowbank thirty yards to my right will do nicely. If I can reach it.
I scan the woods again with the unmistakable feeling that the frost has eyes, and I am being watched by something or someone hiding in plain sight. It’s such a familiar sensation, and yet . . . I don’t know what name to put to it, so I concentrate on the murmur of low voices behind me. I hold my breath, straining to hear.
“You aren’t really going to kill her? Are you?” Raph demands.
“Yes,” Michael answers dispassionately.
Shit. I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t really wanna hear this. Do I?
I reach down with my free hand and tap the iPhone in my pocket. My music is set to play “All Hail Santa” by the Anti-Heros.
If I’m gonna die, it might as well be to the sound of angsty holiday music. Right?
I listen to the brief intro while mapping out my course over the uneven terrain. It’ll be disorderly at best, trampling over things I can’t see and sinking into things that can’t accommodate me. Nature has conspired against me. I am forever intruding on life.
When the screaming blasts in my earbuds, I jolt into action and take off running. The virgin snow is not smooth and penetrating; it’s packed and crunchy under my boots—the earth’s hard crust that I was not engineered to overcome. The sound is horrifying for someone trying to sneak. I’m doomed.
A black streak flashes in my peripheral; they’re coming. Fear rises in me because they move with unnatural speed.
Just keep running!
I navigate haphazardly around misshapen lumps and scrappy saplings determined to slow my progress. The wall of snow is less than ten yards away. Almost there.
When I’m within range, I bound off a log and launch myself over the wall of snow. I sail parallel to the ground and then fling out my right arm, firing with reckless abandon. I rotate a quarter turn just as two shots slam into my chest. One stops my music and the other knocks the wind out of me and I rotate again, faceup. My body is splayed like a sacrifice, and I glimpse the bright blue sky as I land—not on the ground, but on a pile of writhing bodies.
“What the hell, Sophia?” Duffy hollers from somewhere beneath me. Angry muffled voices shout and curse at me. I have inadvertently flung myself onto the gang’s mosh pit of a hiding spot.
“Sorry! Sorry!” I ride the wave of people jostling me to the edge, where I’m unceremoniously dumped to the ground. “Oomph!”
Six of my friends—Bailey, Rachel, Duffy, J.D., Holden, and Casey James—are a pile of fat ski jackets and chunky boots. As usual, they have congregated to form a team without telling me.
“Somebody’s got a hand on my ass!” Casey yells from the tangled heap.
“Not me!” Bailey says, jerking her hand back.
“Who said I didn’t like it?” Casey grumbles, and everybody laughs.
The bodies crawl apart and sit back, staring at one another. Well, mostly staring at me. I’ve blown their cover by invading their frozen foxhole. Everyone is sporting splattered paint. But again, mostly me.
A burst of laughter brings all eyes up, and there are Michael and Raph standing over us with their paintball guns. Their pale blue eyes practically glow with amusement. The sun illuminates their blond hair like halos, reminding me of their true identities; they are angels. Real guardian angels living right here in Haven Hurst.
Author Info
Author Links
Website: http://loriadamsbooks.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheSoulkeepersSeries
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LoriAdams33
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1469861.Lori_Adams
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