Touched by Death
by T.L. Martin
Date of
Publication: September 1st 2017
Cover
Artist: The Killion Group, Inc
Genre:
New Adult Paranormal Romance
Do you
have a character that you have been working on for a long time that still isn't
quite ready, but fills you with excitement to work on the story? Oh boy, I have
a few! I’ve had that kind of excitement for all my characters, actually, which
I think any author should have. But there are two characters in particular that
come to mind right now, and I’m hoping for their books to be ready soon.
Where
would you spend one full year, if you could go ANYWhere? What would you do with
this time? If I had one full year, I wouldn’t want to spend it in just one
place, but in seeing as many places as I could. More than ‘seeing’, I’d want to
experience them. I really haven’t seen enough of the world, and I’d love to get
a real taste for all that it’s been through, and all that it has yet to offer.
Can you
share you next creative project(s)? If yes, can you give a few details? I’m
working on a few projects right now, all of which are in the adult romance
sub-genres, and all of which touch upon sensitive subject matter, difficult
choices, and the kind of love and chemistry that gets your heart pounding.
What if Death was more tempting
than you had ever imagined?
With Grams’s recent passing and a
boyfriend who cares more about his next drink than her, Lou Adaire only wants
to run. To start over somewhere new — maybe in a town where her family has
history.
But when a storm sends Lou’s
truck plunging into Tuttle Creek Lake, she discovers exactly what it’s like to
fight for your life. To gasp for air only to have your lungs fill with icy
water. To die.
What comes next changes
everything.
Dark eyes. Consuming presence.
Death. As vague as a dream yet as
intense as the lightning flashing above her still heart.
Everything about him calls out to
her, tugging at her with the warm vibration of his pull. He’s supposed to take
her; they both know it. She wants him to.
When she wakes in the hospital in
a new town, she can’t forget what she saw… That impossible sensation of him
breathing life back into her, a strong beat playing in her chest and a flutter
running down her spine.
Trying to move on with her life
in a foreign place is hard enough, but when he comes back for more — his
burning touch against her skin, his consuming presence weaving in and out of
her life, and his own scars running far deeper than hers — Lou begins to
realize there’s more to Death, and to the sleepy Kansas town, than she ever
expected to find.
Lou lived. But what if she’s not
the only one in need of saving?
*Note to readers: This
book contains some profanity, sex, and some scenes featuring child abuse.
Buy Link: Amazon
Excerpt:
My
sweater chafes my shoulder blade, and I wince as it irritates the raw, tender
skin. I hadn’t thought much about the injury since leaving the hospital, having
had other things to focus on—or focus on avoiding—but now the memory resurfaces
in my mind: rain smacking against the windshield, trees and darkness spinning
around me, the booming crack of my window breaking, and shards of glass flying
at me.
I pull my
sweater off. Eyes closed, I reach an arm across my chest and over my shoulder,
tracing the tips of my fingers along the thick, three-inch cut that hasn’t
quite scarred yet. It’s smooth beneath the stitches. Too smooth, and it feels
foreign; a piece of my body I don’t recognize. I’ve always thought scars were
meant to represent strength; all this one does is remind me that I shouldn’t be
alive right now.
That I’m
lost.
Drifting.
My
eyelids flutter open, and my breath catches at the sudden touch of strong, warm
fingers moving over my own. A slow, gentle stroke glides over the wound, but
it’s not from me. It can’t be. My hand is stuck, frozen in place over my
shoulder blade as though not daring to move. The mirror before me proves I’m
alone in the bathroom, and yet, I feel it again, the same presence I felt
several nights ago. Heat radiates behind my body as though someone is standing
right there.
Another
stroke caresses the wound, and it’s even lighter this time, like a feather
brushing over me. The feeling of skin against skin is as real as anything. I
can almost hear my heartbeat pounding within my chest. The fingers move past my
wound, never breaking contact with my skin, and slowly trail upward, toward my
neck. Though the texture feels strong and almost rough, the touch itself is
impossibly gentle, treating me like something fragile.
No matter
how loud my mind screams to fight it, my muscles are relaxing like jelly under
the heavy sensation. My uplifted arm drops helplessly to my side. The warm touch
strokes the side of my neck, wandering up further still until it’s almost in my
hair. It’s light enough to send a shiver to my toes, and my eyelids start to
close on their own, my head rolling slightly forward.
The
presence behind me inches closer, and I hear breaths again. Just like the other
night, they’re deep and controlled, right by my ear.
I have no
idea what’s happening to me. Half of me is struck with a pang of fear, unease
over the impossible experience. Yet the other half can’t help but be soothed by
the calming tingles running through the length of me. There’s a trust I can’t
explain, like a gentle, unspoken lullaby, and I know I’m safe. The heat, the
masculine touch, the warm breaths soft as a whisper that rise and fall at the
nape of my neck. I don’t want to think at all right now. I just want to feel.
The
caress slides back down the right side of my neck, almost skimming along my
collarbone, when it stops. Draws back. I hear a hitch in the breathing, a
tremble for a fleeting moment, the smallest hint of the effort it takes to pull
back. Then the touch returns, but only to my scar, traveling down the length of
it with incredible slowness, taking its time. As though savoring every moment
of contact with me, in a way I’ve never experienced. A sigh pours from my lips,
and when my head falls back, it’s caught by the solid warmth behind me. It’s
real enough that I could swear I’m pressed up against the presence right now, a
presence that sure as hell feels like a man—tall, strong, sturdy. The feeling is
so vivid I find myself thinking in terms of him instead of it.
A shake
breaks his steady breathing again, another warm tremble in my ear, and I feel
the tightness of his body rise and fall with each breath.
I’m
letting myself go, relaxing every part of me until the only thing keeping me
upright is his body, and as I do, the hard curves of muscle tense against my
back.
Something
in the air changes, and the presence behind me wavers. It’s completely solid
one moment, and in the next it’s fluid, as though nothing more than a strong
breeze props me up. Soon it’s not even a breeze, just a puff of air, and I’m
grabbing the edge of the counter with both hands to keep from tumbling backward.
My legs
wobble, struggling to support the rest of me. When I catch sight of my
reflection now, my face is flushed. I let out a loud exhale when I remember how
to breathe and command myself to get a grip. I’m still feeling like a sloshy
puddle when I slip my sweater back on over my head and drag myself to the front
door of my room, unlocking it and yanking it open.
I need
fresh air like a drug right now, and I can’t stumble down the stairs fast
enough. I hear Claire’s bubbly greeting when I fly past the front desk, but I
don’t stop until I’m standing on the sidewalk, bending forward with my hands on
my knees and soaking up the crisp winter breeze.
What the
hell is happening? This can’t just be in my head. I know I’ve been a little off
since Grams’s passing, but there’s no way I’d be able to dream up something so
freaking real.
It was
here. He was here.
Whoever
he is.
Buy Link: Amazon
Author Info
Author of romance and paranormal, T.L. Martin
is also a wife, mother of 3, homebody, animal lover, and hug enthusiast. She
resides with her family in Southern California.
T.L.'s novels tend to involve the things she
enjoys most as a reader: relatable and flawed protagonists, unexpected twists,
slow burn romances, and a lively cast of secondary characters. (Being that she
writes both young adult and new adult titles, please check individual book
descriptions for any content warnings.)
T.L. is presently branching out into new
adult contemporary romance!
Join her newsletter by visiting her website.
Author Links:
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