The Refuge Trilogy
by
Annabelle McInnes
Publisher:
Escape Publishing,
Cover
Artist: Escape Publishing
Genre:
LGBTI Speculative Romance
True
Refuge
The Refuge Trilogy, #1
Date of Publication: September 21st
2017
BLURB
Book one in an emotional, erotic, dramatic
trilogy about a world gone to hell, and the hell we hold inside…
The human race has been all but wiped out,
along with our best traits: compassion, empathy, and generosity.
Euan is a survivor. In a dystopian wasteland
infused with violence and cruelty, he protects something invaluable. His love
for Nick and the solace that comes with the connection keeps him from
destruction, and offers him that most elusive and dangerous emotion of all —
hope.
But happiness comes at a price and a hunting
trip leaves Nick vulnerable to the evil that still infects the world. When Euan
returns, he finds Nick broken and bloody, irrevocably damaged in both body and
soul.
Now Euan’s only goal is to find a place for
Nick to heal, a safe place, a refuge where they can rest, recover and repair
their love. When they risk a raid on an abandoned house, they discover the
unthinkable, the rarest treasure of all. A woman.
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Links:
Excerpt True Refuge
Euan
waited, his body held rigid in a state of hiatus. His muscles burned, quivering
involuntarily from remaining immobile for so long. The warm breeze rustled the
tussocks that surrounded him, and the seedpods tickled his ears as he crouched
among the native grasses. The morning sky above him was a vibrant blue, marred
only by sparse clouds that meandered across the unlimited expanse with little
concern for the struggle for survival that went on down below. Only his chest
moved as he took each slow inhalation of breath, his eyes remaining focused on
the net that stretched out in front of him.
There was
a movement to his right. A ripple in the stillness. The dry grass stirred and
the brittle stalks crackled in the silence. There was a patter, a lull, a dislodged
stone on the dry earth, and then all was quiet once again.
He
dragged in a breath and forced his broad shoulders to relax. Each fist was
clasped around a rusted tin can, their contents long gone, but the casing still
served his purpose. His large hands held the round metal objects easily, the
alloy cool as it pressed against his calloused skin.
His nose
itched but he ignored it. He narrowed his eyes as the sound to his right
reoccurred. This time, the rustling was prolonged, the animal gaining confidence
in its terrain. Just a few more minutes and then he could pounce.
He cursed
when there was a shout and a clattering of plastic. The creature to his right
bolted in the opposite direction to the snare, disappearing into its
underground shelter. Euan’s hunting partner Lenny had reacted early, scaring
the animals off before he was ready to act.
Sabotaging
his attempts to gather enough food for them to return to camp.
Again.
He had no
choice but to jump up from his prone position and beat the tin cans together.
The combined noise created by the empty plastic bottles and Euan’s cans
frightened the game they were trying to catch. A number of long-eared hares
bounded before him, headed towards the net they’d pulled against the boughs of
two oak trees and the pit they’d dug immediately before the mesh to ensure
their bait would be caught.
The two
men moved forward as one. Lenny was exuberant, his movements excessive and
unnecessary. Euan was resigned and his unease grew with every step, until two
rabbits were caught, clouds of dust rising like smoke in their wake.
Euan
quickly discarded his tins and knelt at the edge of the pit. It was an easy
thing to capture the frightened animals by the elongated ears and snap their
delicate necks. Two substantial hares were nothing to scorn, and these were
especially fat from the lack of human and domesticated animal encroachment. But
it could have been more. It should have been more.
Euan rose
but said nothing as he watched Lenny approach the pit. He couldn’t help curling
his lip at stink of old sweat that clung to filthy, threadbare clothing as he
reluctantly handed his prize over to the outstretched hand.
A shudder
of uneasiness was beginning to crawl up his spine. That was the third time his
effort to capture their prey had been foiled. That didn’t take even into
account that the day before Lenny had dragged his heels the entire journey,
keeping their pace deliberately leisurely, despite Euan’s attempt to get this
provisions trip over and done with as quickly as possible.
This last
attempt to undermine his hunting efforts was shining as brightly as a neon sign
in an apocalyptic-induced darkness.
Lenny had
thwarted him on purpose.
Euan
watched with growing trepidation as Lenny tied the rabbits to his backpack with
indifference. They were meant to be hunting to feed six people, themselves
included. Neither of them had eaten since yesterday. His reluctance made no
sense.
“I
thought we were waiting for my signal,’ Euan stated, watching with a keen eye
for any indication of ulterior motives.
Lenny
blinked. ‘You didn’t make it?’
After a
weighted pause, Euan murmured ‘No.’
The lean
man shrugged, his gaze averted, before he re-shouldered his backpack, the dead
rabbits swinging from their colourful twine.
Euan
pulled himself up to his full height. It had been three years since the
collapse of mankind. Three years of fighting for survival, living off the land,
trying to escape the mayhem of what was left of civilisation. Since then, Euan
had lived his life attuned to his senses, the prickle on his nape and the lead
ball that rolled around in the pit of his stomach.
That lead
ball was now dissolving, morphing into mercury that was poisoning his insides.
Something was wrong, and he knew that the man in front of him, fiddling with
the frayed shoulder strap of his backpack with suddenly shaking fingers, was
the cause.
Fractured
Refuge
The Refuge Trilogy
Date of Publication: November 12th
2017
BLURB
They thought they’d found a refuge, but the
battle for survival has only just begun...
Surrounded by the destruction of the human
race, Euan, Nick, and Kira find solace in one another, making their underground
bunker a haven and a home. Sheltered under layers of steel and cement, they
should be safe, but danger isn’t always kept outside — sometimes the enemy is
within.
When their electronic warning system detects
intruders, Euan and Nick must investigate. Outside, they discover the true
terror that is approaching, and Euan must make a terrible decision: stay or go.
To stay is to watch the only people he loves perish under the weight of pure
evil. To leave is to face his certain death to protect them and potentially
save humankind.
Despite all his preparation, skills, and
strength, Euan knows that each decision carries the risk that he could destroy
them all.
The second book in the Refuge Trilogy.
Buy Links:
Excerpt Fractured Refuge
The room
was filled with the pungent scent of fried eggs and coffee. The air was warm.
The climate-control system working at full capacity to eradicate the chill from
an encroaching winter. Dishes were stacked high, men’s socks were squashed in
odd corners and a pair of faded pink slippers lay discarded by an open doorway.
Euan
lifted a ceramic mug that was glazed with dandelions in colours of gold, green
and blue. He took a sip of the scorching beverage and ran his tongue over the
burn to his upper lip. The sting was good; the bitter taste of the brew was
better.
His gaze
wandered. Steel beige walls were covered in artworks. Landscapes painted with
muted oils, portraits formulated in lead. Images that captured the essence of
life, the allure of the sky, the wonders of the spirit, the magic of dreams.
Most made by his reluctant hand.
A single
photograph was centred between the amateur drawings. Its position of
significance was no accident. Two children grinned at the camera. Their arms
were wrapped around each other’s shoulder. Smiles as bright as the sunshine
filtered through their blond hair and glinted off their identical blue eyes.
Two beautiful children, unaware of what their future would hold.
Two
beautiful children who were full of hope, full of dreams, full of love and life.
Two
beautiful children. One brother, one sister.
As
adults, the two children would witness the end of the civilised world.
The
mahogany chair groaned under Euan’s weight. The hardwood supported his spine as
he leant back against the dark timber and stretched his long legs under the
coordinating dining table. His bare foot knocked his companion’s. They shared a
small smile as their skin touched and a spark of fire raced through their nerve
endings. Nick bumped his eyebrows suggestively. Euan’s lips kicked up higher in
response.
The food
that he had just consumed nourished his body as effectively as the steel hull
of the underground bunker protected those he cherished. Surrounded by strength,
wrapped in love, the smile remained on his lips. It was kin to the grin that
was emulated by those two children. He relished a moment of untainted
satisfaction. A glorious bliss that bloomed in his sternum and radiated out
through his muscles and into his limbs, his fingers, his toes.
It was
beautiful. This was beautiful.
He
sighed, content.
Kira’s
voice broke the comfortable silence. ‘Is that coffee finished?’
His hand
remained aloft. He held his breath in his lungs. His gaze moved from Nick to
focus on the petite blonde woman who sat rigidly on the edge of her seat to his
left. The hum of the ventilation system became the only sound in the
underground room.
Across
from him, Nick reached out and grasped the handle of his mug. His features were
tight with trepidation. The muscles around his green eyes were firm as he
lifted a twin to Euan’s mug from where it rested innocuously in the middle of
the mahogany table. His shoulders were tense as he tilted his head to look
inside.
His chin
lifted and met Kira’s gaze. ‘Yes?’
The
amiable atmosphere in the room plummeted. Euan let his breath ease out of his
chest. He took a cautious sip.
Kira
pursed her lips. A furrow deepened between her blonde brows. Her knee began to
bounce with the rhythm of exaggerated irritation. The collar of the pale yellow
t-shirt she wore was frayed, stretched, warped. Much like the building tension
in the room. Euan bit back a sigh.
Her question
was directed at Nick. ‘And you’re just going to leave it there?’
Nick’s
nervous swallow was audible. His gaze flickered between a growing adversary and
an inanimate object. He touched his tongue to his upper lip, raked his fingers
through his hair and stared at the lesser of the two threats. His frustration
increased, his irritability brewing beneath the surface. Nick’s predisposition
was to please, to entertain, to love. But every man had his kryptonite. Being
trapped underground, waiting for death’s scythe to slice his soul from his body
would cause even the greatest man to falter. Nick was no deity in that sense.
Neither
was Euan. They were simply two men, two men desperate to please a woman
deteriorating before their eyes.
Eternal Refuge
The Refuge Trilogy
Date of Publication: January 12th
2018
BLURB
They fight for their survival,
they fight for their love, and they fight for the human race.
Euan left his home whole, only to
return broken, battered, and partially blind. He has endured the torments
inflicted upon him by monster and man, but they are nothing compared to the
consequences of betraying Nick and Kira. Incapacitated, he has no choice but to
concede leadership to the man he considered his enemy, and is powerless as the
distance between him and those he loves deepens and grows.
But his recovery time is short
lived. The commander of destruction still lurks in the shadows, determined to
dominate and control what is left of the human race. The final battle is upon
them. They need a champion, a hero for humanity. There is nowhere left to run,
and there is only one person who can provide the ultimate catalyst for change:
A little, blonde sun-sprite, with crystal blue eyes.
The third book in the Refuge
Trilogy.
Buy Links:
Excerpt Eternal Refuge:
Humanity
needed a hero. But they would find no saviour in Euan.
The steel
was cold beneath his fingers. He squeezed the rung of the ladder and the chill
bit into his palms. He tilted his neck to look up. The open portal above him
was the gateway to paradise, to fresh air and open space. Kira’s head peeked
over the lip of the gaping exit and the impossible living fairy consumed his
diminished vision. Her blue eyes glinted with adoration and pride, and her lips
quirked when he glared at her for too long.
‘Do you
need help?’ she asked.
He huffed
and shook his head. It was bitterness that clipped his words. ‘Been in bed for
long enough, sweetheart. Done waiting, done healing. If I can piss on my own, I
don’t need help to climb a ladder.’
He held
in the smirk when she sighed in mock exasperation.
One foot.
Two. He pulled himself onto the base of the ladder and hissed through his teeth
at the pain. Each foot was bound beneath his socks, so there was little risk of
further injury, but the skin remained tender, fragile. The discomfort sliced up
from the healing skin, through his calves and into the base of his spine.
He
paused, breathed. ‘You say a word, and I will tan that pretty ass.’
‘You’ll
have to catch it first,’ she said with a smile in her voice.
He
answered her taunt with a low chuckle. ‘You’d like it if I gave it a try.’
Kira’s
tone was serious when she replied, ‘I would.’
Four
steps and his hands followed. The ache in his shoulder increased as it took on
more of his weight. He blinked, and only one eye responded. The bandages were
tight around his head and his hearing was muffled. His feet stung as if the
stones still tore at his skin, as if the flames still licked at his bones.
Rodger and his parasites had taken so much from him. Stripped him of not just
the flesh from his body, but also his agility, his dexterity.
‘About to
leave this fucking bunker and I can’t hear, can’t see, can’t fucking run—’
‘You’re
almost there,’ she interjected to distract him.
It
worked, as it always did. She was a witch that wove a spell of enchantment, a
netting that drew him to her call. It had been her words that had brought him
from the temptation of death to the disaster that was his corporal self. But if
she was in the realm of the living, Euan would be too.
He moved
to place his palm against another cold rung. Kira’s assessment from above was
like a balm to his flaming skin. She filtered the shroud of despondency that
clouded his thoughts. Under her gaze he would fucking succeed.
But his
depth perception was shot and he missed his target. For a moment he wavered,
his balance precarious. Mortifying images of his broken body sprawled out on
the carpet below while Kira looked on propelled him to alter the direction of
his fingers. At the last moment, he caught the support bar.
‘Fuck.’
‘You’re
doing great,’ she said before the barbs of his self-flagellating thoughts could
catch into his confidence and take hold.
But it
was too late. His self-hatred had embedded its talons deep. His pride had done
this. His pride and his ego. If only he had waited, if only he hadn’t been so
selfish. If he had listened to his heart and not his head, he wouldn’t have
risked their lives. They wouldn’t have lost Ben …
Kira’s
hand was in his vision. In front of his single working eye was the hand of a
woman that was his heart, his humanity. Her long fingers were relaxed, pointed
his way. The offering so sincere and innocent that the grunt that caught in his
throat had nothing to do with the ram-rods of pain that shot through his
nervous system. She had worked so hard to get him here, to keep him breathing,
see him healed, on his feet, and strong enough to climb this fucking ladder
without aid.
His gut
was a pit of aggressive vipers. His breath erratic. His heart nothing but
thunder and lightning. That damn throb in his shoulder.
‘You can
do it,’ she whispered.
He took a
deep breath and held it. Calmed himself. He nuzzled her palm instead of taking
the offered assistance. When he brushed his lips against her skin, she let out
a sigh.
‘I’m
good, sweetheart,’ he told her, because he was. He may be less of the man he
was when he had left them in his search for retribution, but he could, would,
scale the ladder to the surface.
Author Info
From the age of sixteen, Annabelle lived in a
youth refuge while she remained committed to her education. She spent two years
within a section of humanity that society overlooks.
Her experiences are the foundations that
drive her stories and her characters. They fight for their freedoms, have
courage in the face of adversity and will ultimately, always aspire for
greatness.
Annabelle is privileged to spend her time
writing with a backdrop of Canberra’s iconic landmarks and admiring its
distinct and captivating change of seasons. Outside of her love for reading,
she spends every free moment with her husband, son and her poodle named
Serendipity. She drinks her whisky neat and is known to scour the local markets
in an attempt to find the best blue cheese available.
Follow Annabelle on Instagram
@annabellemcinnes, Facebook @authorannabellemcinnes and twitter @akmcinnes.
Sign up to her newsletter at www.annabellemcinnes.com and be a part of the
journey.
The Book Junkie Reads . . . Interview
with Annabelle McInnes
How would you describe you style of
writing to someone that has never read your work?
Gritty,
dark, detailed and challenging. The Refuge Trilogy shines a light on the
darkest parts of our nature. It explores what would happen if society and its
governments crumble, taking along with it our altruism and benevolence. In my
stories, I like to dissect societal norms, place my characters in extreme
situations where they fight for their lives, the people they love, and their
very humanity. My books will take you on a hard journey, but I promise, there
is a HEA at the end!
What mindset or routine do you feel
the need to set when preparing to write (in general whether you are working on
a project or just free writing)?
Every
day is different. I work from home but I also have a toddler. As long as I have
a cup of tea beside me, my earphones in where I play the same twenty six 80s
rock ballads on repeat, and a quiet house, I’m good to go.
Do you take your character prep to
heart? Do you nurture the growth of each character all the way through to the
page? Do you people watch to help with development? Or do you build upon your
character during story creation?
What
a great question! I don’t heavily plot my books, and even if I did, I always
believe that characters develop as normal (and real!) people would. Each
significant life experience changes them, alters their personality, influences
the way they might approached the next situation. I don’t people watch so much
as I have an interest in human psychology. My characters grow and change as I
take them through each trial. They guide me in their journey, it’s not the
other way around.
Have you found yourself bonding with
any particular character? If so which one(s)?
I
love my main protagonist, Euan McKay. Still waters run deep with that man.
Throughout the Refuge Trilogy, he surprised me with his strength, his infinite
capacity to love, his ability to be vulnerable, as well as grow through each hardship
I dragged him through. Euan is compassionate and kind, he is alpha and
demanding, he is bossy and a bit of a chauvinist, but he has such a bright soul
and such a caring nature. If only he were real!
Do you have a character that you have
been working on that you can't wait to put to paper?
I
have another Speculative-Fiction Romance in the pipeline. Is a post apocalyptic
series based around a matriarchal society. At this stage, it will be called
Women of the Dust. I want to explore the impacts of a society of women who
struggle against old social constructs and values in a world where they are no
longer valid. I want to write these women’s stories. The ideas have been drawn
from the strength of the Amazon Warriors of Themyscira in Wonder Woman, the
Valkyrie, specifically Lagertha, in the television series Vikings, and the
barren and violent world of Mad Max, Furry Road.
Have you ever felt that there was
something inside of you that you couldn't control? If so what? If no what spurs
you to reach for the unexperienced?
Another
great question. Writing, for me, is something that I cannot control. It’s a
need that comes straight from my soul. I have write, and if I don’t write every
day I become anxious. Writing is intrinsic to my happiness. I strive to achieve
happiness not just for my family, but for myself. I think self-love and
self-care are the two most important parts to realise true happiness. I want to
be my best self, live my best life, and I work hard towards those goals so I
can focus on my writing.
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