Her fall has just begun. Only his touch can save her from the shift that could destroy it all. Within my blood runs a thing our kind calls the Shadowing Disease. It shadows over, and bends everything to its will. When the first blood- shift came, it tore through flesh and blood, threatening to bend me, break bone, shatter my mind and entrap my heart with its honeyed, seductive poison. It came with vicious intent, moving my thoughts and altering me forever. The shift has caused a rift within me. No one was safe when it entrapped me in its claws of foul lust. But I have the only antidote against the evil that becomes me – his touch alone has the power to release the spurs of sweet darkness that clung on for dear life. I knew what I had to do; the desperation pulled my mind with the deep determination of a hungry predator. By the time the revelation raised me from the dark dungeon of my bounds – it might have been too late.
I awakened with what felt like a bolt of lightning to my chest. There was nothing before that and for a moment, there was nothing after. A tingling sensation engulfed my entire body, then fazed into my brain.
Slowly, I opened my eyes to darkness, dry and hot darkness crushing down on my body, into my mind. The memories came crashing back, one wave over the next, pushing my breath from my lungs. Memories become a tangled mess; I did not know what the last thing I had done was, or how I had gotten to be in a state of mental suspension. The only thing familiar was him, and the darkness exuding from his being was not a familiarity I wanted, nor needed.
The Shadowing disease had come back for me. I choked on the air filling my lungs, like I was breathing for the first time. Something strange was happening to me as my life came pouring back, one cruel flash at a time. I started to remember. I had fallen in a trap, the consequences coiling around me, and I suddenly remembered how I had gotten there.
His presence had me shifting dark-side; the poison that ran through my blood, ran through his, and it drew me near. He summoned me that way, and it all made sense. I was reliving it all. Enoch’s kiss, and the push of his poison had become my own. The night we were kidnapped played back in my mind, and my awareness transported all of me into the physical state of the memory. That was the mind-shift’s way of imprinting on me, its sick way of reminding me of who I was.
The blow to the head that had sent me crashing into the cold, wet mud; the pain that echoed through me; my fingers clawing up the dark, muddy, river bank on that fateful night of my seventeenth birthday; fighting consciousness out of desperation to get to Troy’s sword as I watched helplessly from the wet, cold, stuck-in-the-mud ground. Fireworks in the dark, windy night echoed and ebbed out. The fight to the death between Enoch and Troy shook my insides once more, as if it was happening all over again. The moment that altered my former forever. Then, awakening with a cold, hard thrust of the canoe into my ribs, hands bound, body bleeding. Troy’s sunrise smile from across the wooden vessel as I came to; his warmth filling in around me as I sat on his lap while he slipped the dagger from my boot. His fingers working delicately and swiftly, sending my pulse racing as we fell face first into the ice-cold river, attempting escape from Enoch and the Zulus. Spears rained down, piercing the water, slicing between Troy and me. I couldn’t get to him, could not swim fast enough, his blood clouding the water around me; the pure, rich, virginal color of it violated my heart.
Carlyle is an South African award winning author, with a flair for mixing genres and adding loads of drama to every story she creates. For now she is happy to take over the world and convert non Sci-fi believers. Her goal as an author is to touch people’s lives, and help others love their differences and one another by delivering strong messages of faith, love and hope within every outrageous world she writes about.
“I love to swim, fight for the trees, and am a food lover who is driven by my passion for life. I dream that one day my stories will change the lives of countless teenagers and have them obsess over the world literacy can offer them instead of worrying about fitting in. Never sacrifice who you are, it’s in the dark times that the light comes to life.”
Carlyle used writing as a healing tool and that is why she started her very own writers support event – SAIR bookfestival.
“To be a helping hand for those who strive to become full times writers, editors, bloggers, readers and cover artists – it’s a crazy world out there you don’t have to go it alone!“
Tour brought to you by YAReads Blog Tours