Along with our review for The Rising Moon by Nilsa Rodriguez, as part of the Full Moon Bites blog tour, we’re also offering a giveaway of her book:
Title: The Rising Moon
Author: Nilsa Rodriguez
Genre: Paranormal, Romance, Young-Adult
Publisher: Black Dove Publishing
How many lives must you live to realize that love is stronger than time and death?
Orphaned at the age of five, Angelia (Lia) Lafosse was left with questions about whom and what she truly was. One thing was clear. Lia was different…some might even say cursed.
With the help of her best friend, Ryan Woodruff, she begins to unlock the secrets of her families past and discover answers that prove more startling than she ever imagined. Not only was she a werewolf, but a reincarnation of the immortal werewolf, a werewolf with immense powers beyond any of her kind. A werewolf that if discovered by the Lobison’s to have returned, can jeopardize both Lia and those she love.
Torn between Lyle Ulric, the charming werewolf whose bloodline is as ancient and powerful as her own. And Adam Ambrose, the mysterious and alluring vampire who’s determined not to allow fate or anyone tear their love apart again.
Lia has to make a choice… Destiny or Love…Run or Fight…Live or Die
Excerpt. © reprinted by permission. All rights reserved
∞ Chapter 1 ∞
THE AIR FELT THICK as a sauna. Clouds clustered overhead, like black mountains violently unleashing a torrent of lightning bolts that lit up the sky, making the night bright as day. I felt in the pit of my stomach that something terrible was brewing outside. The storm was unlike any other I have ever seen before…it seemed supernatural.
“Lia!” hollered John. His voice sounded impatient and thunderous as the storm outside. “Li-a!”
I rushed out of bed and met him in the kitchen.
He was drunk again. The smell of whisky reeked through his pores and clothes and met me at the doorway. He wasn't always an alcoholic. He once was happy and full of life, but it all changed the night his wife Veena died. Her sudden and horrific death were too much for him to bear.
The night she died, John was returning late from a hunting trip and accidentally struck an animal as he drove up the dark and narrow road that led to our house. The animal was quick and John couldn’t make out what it was. All he knew was he struck it hard because the whole front bender on his truck was damaged.
He got out and reached for his shot gun and followed the animal into the woods, but although the animal was injured, it was still fast enough to outrun him so he decided to leave the animal alone.
When he got home, Veena wasn’t there. I was asleep and John awoke me, asking me if I knew where she was. It wasn’t like her to be out so late or to not answer her cell phone---especially after he’s called her four times, one phone call after the other. Worried, John set out to look for her while I asked the other ranch workers if they’ve seen her.
After searching for nearly two and a half hours, John found her lifeless body a hundred yards from the house in a pool of blood. She was badly injured. She had deep wounds across her face, her ribs were crushed and her legs were broken.
The medical examiner declared the cause of the death as being mauled by an animal. John felt that if he‘d killed the animal he injured with his truck earlier that night; Veena would still be alive today. He blamed himself for her death and ever since that night, he hasn’t been the same.
“Listen girl,” he said. “It seems Star has gotten out again and the storm is picking up pretty bad out there. See if you can get that stupid horse to return back to the stables. God only knows why she listens to you and not me.”
Star’s an Appaloosa mare and the latest addition to the ranch. Her temperament was supposed to be gentle, but since her arrival four months ago, John hasn’t been able to tame her. I’m the only person on the ranch she allowed near her. I didn’t mind it at all. There was something about her human-like brown eyes that comforted me as much as I comforted her.
“Well, are you going?” he asked reaching for a chair, but nearly missing it.
I really had no other choice but to go out in the storm. We didn’t own the ranch we lived in, the Ulric’s did. And if they saw John, or smelled him for that matter, in the condition he was in tonight they’d surely run us out in a heartbeat.
“Go on now,” he said as he swooshed me with his hand.
“Yes sir,” I grumbled.
Not caring to change out of my blue cotton night gown, I quickly put on my boots and at the sound of a roaring thunder, I reached for my raincoat and headed out the door. The howling wind and blinding rain was harsh and poured down unsteady. It came at me from all directions, slapping me as I attempted to make my way through. I pulled the strings on the neck of my hood to keep it from falling, but it was no use, my hair was already drenched and now stuck to my stinging face.
“Star!” I shouted over the smacking rain. “Where are you girl?”
Unable to see where I was going, I stepped on a thorny bush beside the stable wall. Blood ran warm and quick down the side of my leg. With a slight limp, I hopped into the stables and examined the wound. I was relieved that it was just a mere scratch, but boy did it sting! I limped over to where the horses were and to my surprise Star was there staring at me with those large brown eyes.
It was obvious by the look of her chestnut coat that she was dry. What John saw outside the stable wasn’t Star or any of the horses because all six of them were dry and cozy in their stall.
Bordering with the Shoshone National Forest it wasn’t rare to come across a wild animal every now and then. We’ve been visited by grizzly bears, coyotes, elks, and wolves on the property many times before. John was drunk and the storm was blinding. There was no way he could’ve known what he saw out there wasn’t Star. I’m sure he must’ve saw something, but whatever it was the bullying storm chased it away. I locked the stable doors and rushed back home.
I limped back to my room closing the door behind me. I wrapped my dripping hair in a towel and wiped the blood off my leg. The wind was becoming fainter, more like a whisper as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I turned on my side and faced the window as a cool breeze crept in through a crack in the window frame. The sheer ivory curtains swayed gently, twinkling against the dark wood panel walls and floor.
Hugging my pillow tight, I began to think of Veena. On how her brown eyes always sparkled when she smiled and how her short dark hair always smelled like lavender. She was the only person who truly understood me. Her and John treated me like family and I was grateful for that, and just like John, I missed her too. Especially on nights like tonight.
The following morning the sky was blue and promising. I pulled myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I stood there brushing my teeth glancing hard and deep at the person staring back. I wondered if I looked like my father. Was he pale like me? Or maybe I looked like my mother?
I looked closely into my large blue eyes. At the white pigment in the iris of my left eye that resembled a half moon. I was five years old when it first appeared.
Dr. Parker, a medical doctor from River View Hospital, diagnosed it as heterchromia. He told me it was mostly common in animals, but it can also be past down genetically in humans. I always wondered which of my parents had it.
No matter how many times I tried to remember them, I couldn’t. All I knew was what was told to me: that they were killed in a car accident when I was four years old. When I thought back to my early childhood, all I could remember were the countless nurses and doctors from River View Hospital. I was sent to live there after my first foster parents, claimed I would howl at the moon and constantly suffer from night terrors.
Although they tried their best to comfort me, their attempts had reached its limit on the day they found me asleep outside, naked and covered in dirt and leaves. They felt I was too much for them to handle so they decided to return me to the state, which then sent me to River View where I was diagnosed with Lycanthropy, a rare psychotic disorder that causes the person to believe they can transform into an animal.
During my time at the hospital, Dr. Parker helped me overcome the night terrors that he believed triggered the disorder through medication and psychotherapy. I haven’t had any night terrors in a very long time. But ever since the night Veena died, my nightmares have returned and several times, I’ve found myself waking up in the woods.
Excerpt. © reprinted by permission. All rights reserved
The Full Schedule for the blog tour:
August 6th- Erotic Romance With a Bite...Leigh Savage
August 7th- The YA Cafe
August 7th- A Diary Of A Book Addict
August 8th- Abbey Ann's Bookland
August 8th- Fangs For The Fantasy
August 9th- The Bunny's Review
August 9th- Persephone's Winged Reviews
August 10th- A Dream Within A Dream
August 10th- A Bibliophile's Thoughts on Books
August 11th- Romancing the Darkside
August 11th- Black Hippie Chick's Take on Books &The World
August 12th- Reading on the Wild Side
August 12th- Tricia Kristufek