Soul Thing
The Game of Gods, #1
by
Lana Pecherczyk
Date of Publication: February
20th 2018
Publisher: Prism Press
Cover Artist: Lana
Pecherczyk
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Tagline:
Evolution is the Game, Witches are the
Glitch
BLURB
After a decade long war, witches have been
obliterated, or so the world thinks. A precarious peace settles and, for the
small town of Margaret River, life returns to normal, but for Roo, the hard
work is just beginning.
Roo works at the local bar, is a little
facetious and can’t wait to high-tail it out of there to keep her powers
secret. She’s not certain where they came from but the last thing she wants is
to be burned at the stake. Hiding in plain sight seems to work until Cash, a
darkly handsome hunter, arrives with disaster in his wake. Witches aren’t
defeated, only hidden, and there’s one gunning for Roo and her family. The
recent war only touched the surface of the preternatural world and with Cash’s
help, Roo learns there are worse things that go bump in the night... and she
might be one of them.
Soon she must make a choice—risk exposure to
save her loved ones, or remain hidden and safe. But sometimes safe isn’t an
option. Sometimes safe is a never-ending game.
Buy
Link: Amazon
Excerpt
I
surveyed the bar to see if I had time to get away and speak to my friend. The
customers were happy, the kitchen crew had either gone home or were enjoying
themselves on the dance floor, and Alvin swept up a broken bottle under a
restaurant table. The back room would be empty. I pushed past the swinging
doors to join Kitty, but almost smacked into her. Her full ice bucket connected
with my shin. Ouch!
I opened
my mouth to curse, but stopped when I noticed her face. She stared at something
past my shoulder and momentarily lost her careful composure and seductress
persona. “Hubba hubba. I think I need to go to confession,” she said.
“Why?” I
tried to turn around, but she held me back.
“Don’t
look,” she squeaked, then coughed delicately and lowered her voice to a raspy
husk. “Because I’m having sinful thoughts about melting this ice over that
devilishly hot body. He’s certainly not from around here.” She shoved the
bucket into my hands and pushed me backwards so she had room to stumble past.
Recovering with a sashay and a saunter, she made her way to the counter where a
tall, tanned man stood.
I
wouldn’t exactly call him devilish. He was blonde—are devils blonde? His short
hair was impeccably groomed and styled at the top, the kind of way that took
hours to make it look like it took minutes. His stubble was perfectly trimmed—a
designer five o’clock shadow. The only devilish thing about him was the full
arm tattoo peeking out from under his crisp, white shirt sleeve on one side. It
also showed slightly higher up over his collared neck. Everything about him
screamed money, control and influence. Except the ink. That screamed something
else.
His lips
twitched at the corner, and I narrowed my eyes. What was he smiling at? Had he
heard Kitty’s words through the haze of sound?
“Oh, give
me a break,” I mumbled and went cross-eyed. Kitty had found another conquest,
and that left me lugging the heavy load. She was a predator, that woman, I
swear. I stumbled over to the ice trough, dropped half the ice on the floor and
almost slipped to land on my butt. “Seriously?” I hissed to the ice.
I glanced
over my shoulder and spotted Kitty heading back in my direction. Her face was
contorted into an expression I could only describe as horrified or mortified,
or maybe constipated. I smirked, then caught myself, breathed in deeply and
tried again. I gave her my best sincere smile.
“He
called me Ma’am,” she said, and took the empty bucket from my hands. “How dare
he? I am not a Ma’am. I’m a sexy, young, successful, independent woman who—”
She stopped mid-sentence and looked at me, green eyes blazing. “Well, he asked
for you, didn’t he?”
“What? I
don’t know him.” I snatched the bucket back.
“He asked
for you by name. Don’t be shy, your rudeness is keeping the customer waiting.”
She pushed me in the direction of the blue-eyed stranger, making an
embarrassing show of my reluctance. “I have to perform soon anyway,” she said
as if she had better things to do. “Just keep an eye on the bar while I put my
game face on.”
She gave
me one last shove and sauntered out back.
Her push
sent me flying, and I tripped over my feet to land in front of the stranger
with a humph. To make matters worse, the music paused between songs and I
yelled, “Can I help you?”
Heat rose
to my cheeks in the silence and I imagined my whole face painted red. The music
started, and I looked down at my feet, took a deep breath and started again.
When I caught his eyes, words fled. They were different—one as clear as the
deep blue ocean, the other also blue, but spliced with muddy clouds in the
turbulent water. It was as though each eye belonged to a different person. I
almost sighed like a school girl. They were amazing. Simply amazing and his
dark lashes were full and framed the masterpiece within perfectly. Hang on. I
squinted, they looked vaguely familiar.
“La
Roux?” He pronounced my name correctly. Maybe he was French, like my name.
I cleared
my throat. “Yes, do I know you?”
“No, but
you know my brother, Tommy. He told me to look you up when I arrived.” His
voice was smooth and hypnotic—a dangerous combination with those eyes.
Wowsers,
this was Cash? His neat and trim exterior wasn’t at all what I expected for a
beach bum, although his well-toned physique was. I stared like a loser for a
minute. Something didn’t add up, and it wasn’t the fact he wore fancy leather
loafers in country Western Australia. No, it was because he used my full name.
Nobody did that. I’d worked hard for people to forget who I’d been in the
city—the girl feared and hated for almost being a witch. My hand fluttered to
my collar in a nervous reaction and his gaze flicked down too.
“How did
you know my full name?” I asked. The mild panic must have crept into my eyes
because he took a step backwards. “Everyone here calls me Roo.”
He
scrubbed the back of his neck and then scanned the room like he had somewhere
welled to be. “Tommy told me. Look, can I get a drink? Whisky, if it’s not too
much to ask?”
Jeez, I
was just asking, no need to get grumpy. I glared at him while I pulled a glass
from the drying rack and placed it on the counter. He was full of
inconsistencies—his accent, for one. It was almost non-existent and, apart from
saying my name like he was French, his language was without a pattern or
distinguishing lilt that pointed to his origin. He could’ve hailed from
anywhere.
Buy Link: Amazon
6 Chapter
Excerpt Available from Instafreebie until March 3rd 2018
Author Info
Lana Pecherczyk is a
freckle-faced writer from Perth, Western Australia. She’s a fan of
'pro-caffeinating' and writes in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance.
Basically if it’s got sexy heroes, thrilling action and a kick-ass heroine, you
know she’ll write it because she loves reading it.
When she’s not writing the next
great novel, or wrangling the rug rats, or rescuing GI Joe from the jaws of her
Kelpie, she fights evil by moonlight, wins love by daylight and never runs from
a real fight.
You can find her books on Amazon
and other good online retailers.
The Book Junkie Reads . . . Interview
with Lana Pecherczyk . . .
How would you describe you style of writing
to someone that has never read your work?
Dark urban fantasy full of action, a tweak
of humour and a little dash of romance. I like my heroines to kick ass, my
heroes flawed and my world building high concept.
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)?
I love listening to music when I’m coming
up with ideas (Soul-Thing was inspired by the song Hunting for Witches by Block
Party) but when I’m writing those amazing kick-ass scenes, I need music that’s
got no words in it. I listen to piano versions of popular pop songs.
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?
I researched a lot of mythological
characters when writing this book, but for one character, Marc (a.k.a Hermes or
The-god-of-the-in-between) all I needed to know was that he was a little
egotistical (because who wouldn’t be if you were a god) and he just leapt off
the page. I like to think of my characters as real people with real quirks that
are sometimes odd, because that’s what real people are like.
Have you found yourself bonding with any
particular character? If so which one(s)?
Marc is my favourite character. He came
out of nowhere and highjacked every scene he ever appeared in. As the Gamekeeper,
he’s basically in charge of the game the gods play. And he’s got an ego and
body to match. Think of Lucifer from Neil Gaiman’s tv show, and you’ve got a
pretty good idea of Marc. He’s so used to people doing what he says that he can
be a little bit clueless sometimes.
Do you have a character that you have been
working on that you can't wait to put to paper?
I’m almost finished writing this series
and the next one is bubbling away already in my head, gathering momentum. It’s
going to be based around a disgraced group of vigilantes who each sense deadly
levels of sin before it’s about to be committed. Think envy, wrath, lust... so
many flawed heroes it’s exciting and I can’t wait to share it with you at the
end of the year.
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?
Plenty! I struggle with emotions. As a
child, I would cry at the drop of a hat and was constantly teased for it. As an
adult, I may be able to hold in my tears, but I still find it a struggle to
deal with emotional criticism. That’s what draws me to giving my characters
powers. I love the idea that you can have something special to help you fight
back and give you confidence. Hopefully reading my books will help readers feel
like they can have confidence too.
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