By Skyler White
Read Skyler White's posts at the Penguin Blog.
View our function on Skyler White’s and Falling, Fly.
An edgy, erotic mix of delusion and romance-from a debut writer whose big name is at the upward push.
In a dismal and seedy underground of burned-out rock stars and angels- turned-vampires, a innovative neuroscientist and a fallen angel needs to pit drugs opposed to mythology in an try and erase their tortured pasts...but at what expense?
Olivia, vampire and fallen angel of hope, is hopeless...and damned. because the fall from Eden, she has hungered for romance, yet fed merely on wish. Dominic O'Shaughnessy is a neuroscientist tormented by very unlikely visions. whilst his examine and her depression collide at L'OtelMathillide- a subterranean hell of good looks, demons, and dreams-rationalist and angel unite in a conflict of hope and damnation that threatens to ruin them either.
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Extra resources for and Falling, Fly (Harrowing, Book 1)
The suggestion of a tongue sliding across the roof of a mouth. He almost saw the mouth. A mouth f lecked with blood, the victim of some trauma. An act of violence that made speaking all but impossible. He held his breath and sent out calming, soothing thoughts, hoping to ease the being who owned this injured mouth. Ease its mind and help it speak. At first, he sent this request out as a feeling, just an amorphous suggestion. But his desire to hear more coalesced into words. Not spoken, but as real as if they had been.
Joaquin’s skin prickled as he waited for the first word. The seconds ticked by. Tick . . tick . . tick . . The moment expanded. The cloud of “now” hovered around Joaquin, embracing him with its large maternal hands. Thoughts of destiny and the buried mists of his painful past rose slowly to the surface, as he waited for a word. He closed his eyes willing himself deeper into the communion, deeper into this new world. Images f lashed through his mind: faces contorted in pain, burned f lesh, walls splashed with blood.
He looked battered and bruised. His eyes f lickered open and closed. The boy seemed to be struggling for consciousness. Two paramedics got in and the ambulance took off, sirens wailing. Gabriel stared at the boy. He wondered if he looked as bad. The paramedics were working around him, putting some kind of needle in his arm. But it all seemed far away, as did his pain. He felt like he had a broken leg, but it was information from outside, like a telegram he’d received from a far-off land. The boy next to him began to hum as if his life depended upon it.