SPOTLIGHT: Angel Rising Redemption by LaVerne Thompson

Posted on January 21, 2015 by Nadene @ Totally Addicted to Reading in Reviews / 0 Comments




Angel
Rising Redemption
Redemption
Book
1
LaVerne
Thompson

      Genre: paranormal/ interracial
roma
nce
 Publisher: Isisindc Publishing
 Date of Publication: January 2,
2015
 ISBN: 978-0-9859646-9-6 
ASIN: TBD
 Number of pages: 248
Word Count: 91,272
 Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Book Description:
To walk the earth she must feed
her hollow soul.
Some of the most beautiful people
in the world are not human they have no soul. 
They feel no emotion and are pure evil. You can tell by the color of
their dark dead eyes. Samuel Glaus knows this. 
He is after all half-human, the son of a human mother and soulless
father, and a hunter of the soulless.  He
is also in love with one who cannot love him back.
Thalya is a soulless creature,
but unlike others of her kind she does not kill to feed her hollow soul. She
hungers for emotion and above all she hungers for Samuel’s love. Her enemy. Her
redemption. And she’s willing to kill for it.
Excerpt:
Opening up her
senses, she sniffed out the most depressed in the city block around her. While
she had no human sense of smell, the scents of emotions to her were as potent,
as humans would say a bouquet of freshly cut roses.
Right across the
street a man entered the park. The scent of his depression floated right to her
on the wind. Hot, potent and yummy, she would feed on it for a few days. There
were no others of her kind in the area, so she wouldn’t have to warn anyone
off. Although, quite a few soulless resided in New York, the size of the area
ensured she didn’t run into others if she didn’t want to, which she usually
didn’t.
Going back
inside her penthouse condo, she walked across thick sand-colored carpet. Her
artist friend, Franklin, would have both loved and hated the great room. Loved
it for the cool colors—reds, beiges, and golds. Those had been his favorites,
but then she’d stuck a long, extra-wide black leather sofa smack in the center
of it. He hated leather and black.
Franklin, long
gonejust another from her past.
She put on her
long coat, and headed for her private elevator. She didn’t need it but she
wanted to blend in. Tonight she would act normal. Normal, at least for a human.
As an additional benefit, when she walked through her lobby to get to the
street, she would open her senses to her immediate surroundings, sampling a
taste of surface emotions as she passed by.
Not all of her
kind could suck out emotion without touch but as an olden, one from a time long
past and more powerful than most, she could. But other things also set her
apart from those like her. She did not need to kill her providers or have them
kill others to satisfy her needs. Draining humans of their depression, her
emotion of choice, more than satisfied her. Humans carried it in abundance. She
merely put her providers to sleep and afterwards, they usually woke up feeling
less depressed. Hers represented a more symbiotic relationship. She actually
helped people, much like a psychiatrist would. Only, instead of talking them
out of their depression, she drained it right out of them.
The elevator
door opened and she got on.
The hotel where
she lived also housed private residences, but a few guests milled around the
lobby for the evening. Just enough people around with some serious issues to
make her grin and tremble within her ankle-length leather coat.
“Delicious,” she
purred. Red knee high stiletto boots clicked as she crossed the polished marble
floor. She ignored the appreciative looks of the men and women as she glided
among them, intentionally projecting a do not approach compulsion. Look but
don’t touch, unless she was the one doing the touching.
The doorman
opened the door for her and smiled. “Good evening. Cold one tonight.” Bundled
in layers and with a wool cap on his head, he stood directly beneath a heating
vent to stay warm.
He always spoke.
She rarely did and tonight, she didn’t. She flashed him some teeth in the
semblance of a smile. At least she hoped it looked like a smile and not a
grimace. Happiness. It rolled off him in waves. She’d never tried draining that
emotion from her providers, although over the centuries she’d met a few of her
kind who preferred it. Anything to fill the void in the soulless place. But
stealing someone else’s happiness always seemed unnecessary to her. Depression
worked just fine.
Out on the
sidewalk, the scent hit her again. Like a shining point of light in dark woods,
the depressed man she’d sensed beckoned her to follow him. After crossing the
street, Thalya entered the park. It didn’t take long to find him.
He sat on a
bench at the other end of the park, leaning over with his head in his hands.
She wouldn’t be
able to read his thoughts until she actually touched him. No matter, she sensed
his depression.
She sat on the
bench next to him; he didn’t even bother to look up. Thalya placed her hand on
his shoulder and her inner feminine muscles contracted to the point, she almost
had an orgasm.
Depression, and
so potent.
“Mmm, good,” she
murmured.
At her touch, he
raised red-rimmed eyes in her direction.
Finally, she had
his attention.
He pulled back
slightly, some form of self-preservation kicking in. “Who—are you?”
“Shhh. It will
be all right. I promise,” she whispered. 
The man sat up
and she wrapped her arms around him.
Unable to help
himself, he let her.
Hmm, handsome.
She always seemed to gravitate toward the young, good-looking ones, although
she’d never sleep with any of them. Well, hardly ever. She nuzzled the side of
his neck. Under the alcohol he’d indulged in, he exuded a nice clear human
scent. Given his emotional state, she’d expected the scent of alcohol to be
stronger. Surprisingly she only caught a slight whiff. No more than a beer.
Maybe he just started on his drinking for the evening. Didn’t matter. Whatever
he’d ingested, she didn’t care about.
“What—?”
She didn’t give
him a chance to say more. Instead, she made her way to his mouth, which opened
as soon as she pressed her lips against his. Unleashing her powers, she inhaled
his depression into the starving emptiness that should have housed her soul,
and at the same time, began to read his memories.
Poor thing.
Karl, yesKarl Hammer. He’d recently lost his job and his wife, pregnant with
their first child, didn’t know about it. He’d swallowed his pride and asked his
blood uncle of sorts for help. Except Karl hadn’t spoken to his uncle in years.
Mmm, interesting. She probed for the reason why.
Samuel and the
others like him lived a dangerous life. Samuel, a master hunter of the soulless
and Karl, merely—bait.
About
the Author:


LaVerne Thompson is an award
winning, best-selling, multi-published author, an avid reader and a writer of
contemporary, fantasy, and sci/fi sensual romances. She also writes romantic
suspense and new adult romance under the pen name Ursula Sinclair.
She is currently working on
several projects. Both of her daughters are now away at college. However, she
and her husband don’t like the term empty nester. She’s added a cat to the
household to keep the dog of the house company. Hopefully writing will keep her
sane. 
Nadene @ Totally Addicted to Reading
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