BLURB:
ONE
CHOICE CAN MAKE AN IMMORTAL HUMAN.
BUT
WHAT CHOICES NEED TO BE MADE TO GO BACK AGAIN?
The
revolutionary year following Serenay "Ren" Avalon's eighteenth
birthday could rival Clark Kent's entire adolescence.
After
her mother and her grandmother were killed in a car bomb explosion at the heart
of their sleepy hillside town where nothing extraordinary usually happens, she
discovers that her mother is actually alive and in hiding, her long lost father
is a Father, and her best friend, who turns out was once an Archangel, has
taken a gargantuan step back in his evolution to live on Earth with her for the
past thirteen lifetimes. And besides being the only one in her immediate circle
with a serious case of past life dementia, she learns that during her first
lifetime, she was married to one of the greatest teachers history has ever
known who is now the gorgeous lead singer of a hot new rock band taking the
world by storm, and who is keen to meet up with her again in the twenty first
century.
As
Ren realizes that the powerful family name she bears also brings with it the
promise of an unnatural death, she is reminded that it has always brought hope
to people on both sides of the veil, human and Tor. As the world draws closer
to being completely shrouded by the dark cloaks of her age-old enemies, the
Bloodstones, she now, more than ever before, has to draw strength from her origins
to protect her family and their ancient truth from this global force responsible
for torturing and killing centuries of her ancestors.
As
she struggles to unearth who she was, who she is, and who she chooses to be, as
well as the expectations of her first mortal love and the heavenly love she has
always guiltily denied, she has until midnight on the Solstice find a way to
bring light to a compromised heart and to a world on the brink of perpetual
darkness.
This
first book in The Rosefire Trilogy by debut YA author, Ky Lehman, is a reminder
of how the choices we make in the throes of love, loss, hope, and adversity are
what makes the divine human, and the human divine.
“Come
on, Renay! You’re as slow as a wet week,” she snaps.
“Right
behind you,” I grumble, trying to coax my jelly legs to step out of the car.
She
bustles us inside and disarms her house alarm. She grabs my hand, leads me
straight to the navy blue comfy couch and gestures for me to sit. “Drink?” she
asks.
“No,
thanks.”
She
goes to the kitchen and gets me a tall glass of water anyway.
Then
everything goes from strange to downright bizarre when she sits down, squishes
in next to me, puts her arm around my shoulders and rests her cheek on my hair.
I am wedged in-between her and the armrest: I couldn’t move if I tried, and I
honestly don’t want to. Hugs from my one and only aunt are like sunny days in
the winter. They are rare. They are warm. They smell of cream and cinnamon.
They go by too quickly. And you know you’ll have to wait a while for the next
one.
“Look
at me, Renay,” she gently commands. Bleary eyed, she carefully scans my face
and sighs.
It
seems she is already regretting what she is yet to say. A chill of forewarning
forces a shiver: it sets my heart pounding and my legs that have finally
regained feeling start to twitch and shake, preparing to run. She senses my
panic and holds me tighter, and starts to softly hum a familiar tune that Nanna
must have used to calm her down too. Slowly, the dread resides and the warmth
returns. My stiff posture thaws allowing me to slump into her side. Realising
she has been given the green light, she takes a deep breath and starts talking.
Aunt
Romey has never been one to beat around the bush. Simple English. No fluff. The
bare facts followed by her opinion of them. But this time, the candour I
usually appreciate brings with it a realisation that hits me so hard, that, for
the first time since the bomb went off, I am relieved the undercooked takeout
chicken kept me home that night.
Bedtime
stories that once lulled me into sweet dreams now leave me feeling cold, heavy
and sick.
Horrifying
truth gives a voice to the intoxicated mutterings of a grieving husband and
father.
Nanna’s
fairy tales.
Georgie
Pa’s drunken rants.
All
of the frayed strands and loose ends I’ve obliviously left hanging tangle and
weave into the blood stained tapestry that is Aunt Romey’s history lesson.
Three
versions of the same unfathomable story, each with its own conclusion. The
fairy tale ends in hope.
The
drunken rant ends in fear.
And
the history lesson will only end with the death of the Three Roses, who my
newfound enemies believe are Nanna, Mum and me.
Surrounded
by the ghosts of our ancestors and their vindicating screams, I cling to the
only olive branch within reach.
Mum
may be on the run, but she is alive and well.
But
the sinewy little branch is not strong enough to bear the weight of centuries
of lost life. It snaps, and I limply fall into large, familiar, bloodstained
hands that carry me off into the black quiet.
AUTHOR Bio and
Links:
KY
LEHMAN is a novelist, a children's author, a teacher of swimming and water
safety, wife to her high school sweetheart and the proud mother of their three
very tall sons. She lives in the Yarra Ranges, Victoria, Australia with her
husband and their children where she is currently writing the second book in
The Rosefire Trilogy, The 13th Rising.
SOCIAL
MEDIA LINKS & WEBSITES
@KyLehman13
Ky will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Thank you for having me! Cheers, Ky :-)
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