~BLOG TOUR! ~ Dark Dreams and Dead Things by Martina McAtee
Title: Dark Dreams and Dead
Things
Author: Martina
McAtee
Genre: YA Paranormal
Romance
Hosted
by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb:
17-year-old November Lonergan spent her whole life feeling
like an outsider. She was right. She’s a reaper like her mother; like her two
cousins, Kai and Tristin. The supernatural world believes they are part of a
prophecy to save them from an evil known as the Grove. Ember just wants to
survive high school and fix the fallout from bringing back her friend.
Old enemies are lurking; waiting for their opportunity to
strike but the pack has a new problem. A group of legendary hunters has
resurfaced, threatening the reapers and anybody who stands with them. They are
making good on their threats too; attacking those closest to the pack.
Their only hope of defeating the Legionaries involves
trusting a stranger to perform a dangerous spell to advance Ember and her
cousin’s powers. But Ember has a secret; a secret she can’t tell the pack. One
that leaves the pack vulnerable.
An attack on pack allies, leaves one member of the group
injured and another missing, along with a mysterious girl named Evangeline who
may play a bigger part in this than any of them realize. As the Legionaries are
closing in, the pack must trust their enemies, enter hostile territories, and
play a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a psychopath. Their entire plan
lynches on a dangerous bargain, but rescuing one member of the pack could mean
losing another in their place…possibly forever.
Martina
McAtee lives in Jupiter, Florida with her teenage daughter, her best friend,
two attack chihuahua's and two shady looking cats. When she isn't writing young
adult books about worlds with reapers, zombies, werewolves and other
supernatural creatures she's reading or watching shows that involve reapers,
zombies, werewolves and other supernatural creatures. Her debut novel Children
Shouldn't Play with Dead Things released in August of 2015. Her second book in
the Dead Things series, Dark Dreams and Dead Things, will release July 15,
2016.
Author
Links:
Instagram: www.instagram.com/authormartinamcatee
Twitter: www.twitter.com/MartinaMcAtee1
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/MartinaMcAtee
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/mcateem1221
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1rfcFAE
Newsletter: http://martinamcatee.us11.list-manage.com/subscribe/post?u=3c510e021d98ce78e1d1ac6d1&id=ca57b53847
Web Site: http://www.martinamcatee.com/
Buy Links:
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Dark Dreams and Dead
Things: http://amzn.to/1Z4KVtH
Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead
Things: http://amzn.to/1Z4L4NH
Chapter 1
Ember
“It would appear you owe me a new body, Luv.”
November Lonergan stared at the ghost of her dead
pseudo-boyfriend and contemplated how truly screwed up her life had become.
Despite everything that happened that night, Mace was there, standing in her
window, fading in and out, image static. She sighed from her toes, not sure how
she felt about the situation. Of course he was there.
He flickered, image strengthening as she got closer. There
was still blood on his torn t-shirt but his silver hair looked cleaner than the
last time she’d seen him. The symbols she’d painted on his skin were gone but
the of scars layered across his torso remained. His dark brows were smudges
over luminous silver eyes. He was beautiful even in death.
She opened her mouth to say something but realized there was
nothing at all suitable for this occasion. She’d already endured a blood
ritual, two deaths, a knife fight and a resurrection; she didn’t know if she
could handle anything else today. Her magic didn’t agree, it stretched and
purred at Mace’s presence, reaching out for his power. Even death hadn’t
severed their magic’s connection it seemed. She didn’t give in to the
temptation to move closer.
The heat of her magic and a bone deep exhaustion had her
swaying on her feet. He moved towards her before seeming to remember he was of
little use in his present condition. “You don’t look very well. Maybe you
should sit down.”
Ember nodded, not so much sitting as collapsing onto her
pale pink bedspread. “Or you could lie down.” She heard Mace mutter. She yawned
so hard her jaw cracked. She was still fully clothed but undressing seemed as
impossible as climbing a mountain. She wiggled her toes. She needed to take her
shoes off. She made a halfhearted attempt. “When did my feet get so far away?”
He glanced at her feet. “They appear to be in the same place
as always.” He walked back towards the window. “While you’re just lying about
perhaps you could enlighten me on how exactly you plan to fix this
disaster?”
Ember blinked up at him. Funny how quickly his affections
turned. “An hour ago it was ‘do what you have to do, Luv. I could have loved
you’ now it’s hurry up and fix this?”
He chuckled at her terrible impression of his accent. “I was
trying to be noble and romantic in my final moments of existence. Now that I
still exist, I think we’ve wasted enough time on
sentiment.”
“Having your soul back obviously hasn’t made you a better
person.”
“Did you think it would? I told you not to romanticize me.
My soul was tarnished long before I gave it away.” Even as a glitchy
apparition, she could see the moment her words sunk in. “Did you say my soul?”
He hadn’t realized what him appearing in her room meant.
“Didn’t you wonder why you’re still here?”
“Certainly, but that wasn’t the answer I expected.
How?”
Ember yawned again, eyelids drooping. “Can’t we talk about
it tomorrow? I’m so tired.”
He gaped at her. “Seriously? You tell me I have a soul and
now you want to go to sleep?”
“Yes. I’m tired. I’ve had a rather rough day.”
“Really? Did a witch force you to cut open your own stomach
and create a mural with your own entrails? No? Then I win.”
Ember was too tired to play. “Drama queen.”
There was a long pause before he said. “You might consider a
shower. You are still covered in blood. My blood specifically. Quite a lot
actually.”
Ember groaned, looking down at herself with effort. She was
pretty gross. She was so tired though. “If you weren’t a ghost I’d force you to
carry me.”
There was a low chuckle. “Inviting me to shower with you?
I’m sure that would go over quite well with the little
alpha.”
Ember thought about the alpha werewolf currently downstairs
cleaning the kitchen. After the night they’d all had, she doubted Isa would be
concerning herself with such mundane things as teenage hormones. Could the
wolves hear her talking to Mace? Could they hear Mace? See him? Did they think
she was in here talking to herself? Could she only see him because she was a
reaper? She had so many questions.
She rolled to her feet, grabbing her things and keeping her
thoughts to herself. She hurried to the bathroom and locked the door. She
caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and froze. He wasn’t lying. She was
covered in blood, and not just his blood. Her bright orange curls were a
tangled sweaty mess matted together with blood and who knows what else. There
were dark smudges under her eyes, making her already pale skin look chalky
under the soft white lights. Her violet eyes glowed--actually, glowed--like the
wolves did mid shift. That was new. Had they been glowing since the ritual or
was Mace’s presence sending her magic into hyper-drive?
She flipped the water on and stripped down, not even waiting
for the water to heat up before stepping beneath the spray. She realized almost
immediately her mistake. She muffled a scream, bouncing from one foot to the
other under the frigid water, relaxing only when steam finally began to rise.
“So, tell me; how did I get back my soul?”
Ember gasped, slipping and yelping as her back hit the cold
tiles. She stuck her head around the curtain. “There is a reason these doors
lock.”
His smile was disarming. “There isn’t a lock in the world
that would keep me away from you, Luv.”
She rolled her eyes, righting the navy and white shower
curtain, absently wondering how much he could see in those white stripes. “That
is like the most stalkery thing you’ve ever said to me and you rank really high
on the creepy-lurker-stalker-guy meter.”
There was another throaty laugh. “I am starting to think
this power has gone to your head. Five hours ago you were weeping at my side
like a war widow.”
Her mouth fell open. She yanked the curtain back enough to level
a glare at him. “Five hours ago, I thought I’d never see you again. Five hours
ago, I thought I needed you. Five hours ago, I hadn’t known you’d been playing
me the entire time. Remember? You’re the parasite and I’m the host. You needed
me. You lied to me this whole time.”
He shrugged, incredulous. “Of course, I lied. I could hardly
tell you the truth. You would have booted me into the abyss, which you ended up
doing anyway, I might add.”
She made a noise of disgust. This was Mace with a soul. “I’m
such an idiot.” She said, more to herself than him. He tilted his head, a hint
of something behind his eyes, regret maybe? She didn’t give in, letting the
curtain drop back into place, determined to ignore him.
She scrubbed herself quickly, alarmed at how little it
bothered her to have this conversation with him while she was naked.
“I didn’t lie about my feelings for you, Luv; if that means
anything?” “Hah.” Like she was going to believe anything he said now.
“I’m serious. If you believe nothing else. Believe I meant
what I said.”
“You said you could love me. If you’d been capable. Well,
apparently you were capable this whole time. So I don’t even know what to do
with your half-assed confession of love.”
Why was she even talking about this? Maybe it was the shower
curtain. It was like a confessional. It was so much easier to talk to somebody
when you didn’t have to look at them.
“Half-assed?” He said, “I sacrificed myself so that our dear
friend, Quinn, could have my body.”
Ember choked on her laugh. “Oh, please. You were kidnapped
and tied to a chair with a gaping abdominal wound. It’s not like you
volunteered for the job.” Ember’s eyes dropped to her feet, shuddering at the
blood spiraling towards the drain.
Mace wasn’t done being offended. “Well, that hardly matters.
Quinn’s soul is safely housed in my body and I’m…here? So you could at least
tell me how this all came to be.”
Ember rolled her eyes. He was impossible. “Not that you
deserve any sort of explanation but Ms. Josephine says I restored your soul the
night we met in the cemetery.”
He was quiet for so long she caved and, yet again, pulled
the curtain back enough to ensure he was still there. He stared at nothing, jaw
slack. “I’ve had my soul the whole time?”
“Yep.” She couldn’t help but feel a bit smug about how
wrecked he looked.
“You’re sure?”
She slathered conditioner into her hair. “That’s what
Josephine thinks.”
“The swamp witch?”
“Oh, that’s right. You were dead. Josephine the swamp witch
isn’t a witch at all. Well, maybe she’s a witch but she’s also an Oracle,
because those are apparently a thing too. Oh, and Miller, my boss from the
funeral home is actually Josephine’s brother and she’s had him, like, watching
me this whole time and Donovan is her grandson.”
He sounded awed as he said, “Good Lord, how long have I been
dead? I’ve clearly missed a lot.”
“You have no idea. Allister tried to kill me but Quinn saved
me by stabbing Allister but as Allister was dying he forced Quinn to absorb his
magic.”
“The human killed his own father to save you? I didn’t think
he had it in him.”
“Former human.” She corrected. "Besides, Allister isn't
dead."
"What? What do you mean? You just said Quinn killed
him."
She hesitated before saying, "I revived
him."
"Revived or resurrected?" Mace asked, leery.
"What's the difference?" Ember asked, deliberately
avoiding answering.
"Reviving is CPR, resurrecting is bringing a soul back
across the veil. Stop being evasive, Luv."
"Fine, I resurrected him."
"With a spell?"
"No" she said, tone casual. "With my
hands."
She could hear his forced exhalation. “This is all very
astonishing, even in our circle.”
Her heart did a strange skip at the word ‘our’. She was
pathetic. She snagged the towel and wrapped it around herself.
“Why would they go to all this trouble to orchestrate this
elaborate plan?”
She yanked the curtain open and stared at him. His eyes
roamed her body, starting at her toes and working their way up. He grinned at
her petulant expression. “Sorry, Luv. I’m dead, not blind. I’ve never been so
jealous of a piece of cotton.”
She rolled her eyes. “Move, please.”
“Why? You can just walk right through me.” He wiggled his
eyebrows. “I encourage it, in fact.”
When she didn’t take the bait he moved, following her back
into her bedroom. “You didn’t answer my questions. So, what are you to two
witches? Or a witch and an oracle?”
“They have a crazy theory.”
“Which is…?” he prompted in
exasperation.
“They believe that Tristin, Kai and I are descendants of
some ancient triple goddess.”
“The Morrigan?” Mace said, sounding like the breath had been
punched from his lungs.
Ember narrowed her eyes. “Yes, exactly. They say there is
some sort of prophecy. It’s insane. They are both insane.”
He watched her for a moment as she wriggled into her t-shirt
and sleep shorts without revealing anything. She towel-dried her curls.
“I suppose it makes sense.”
“Nothing about this situation makes sense.” She told him,
slipping between the sheets with a moan that bordered on obscene. She didn’t
know what sex felt like but she bet it wasn’t as good as cold Egyptian cotton
with a 700 thread count. She flipped her light off, amused as his spirit gave
off a faint glow allowing her to see his annoyed expression.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“We’ve had this conversation. Going to sleep.”
“You can’t. We have to figure this out.”
“Tomorrow.”
“What if I’m not here tomorrow?” He asked
quietly.
Ember’s eyes jerked open, pulse tripping. She hadn’t thought
about that. Could he cross over?
Would he want that? He’d been immortal for a very long time.
“You mean what if you cross over? Could you? Is that something you’d
want?”
He sounded sick when he said, “To be tortured for all
eternity in the pits of hell? No, Luv, I’ll pass, thank you. Besides, soul or
no, sluagh can’t cross over into the spirit world.”
“So why do you look so worried?”
“Because there are things far worse.”
“Worse than hell?”
“Aye. I told you before, nobody gets away with the things I
did.”
“We’ll figure something out.” She said without thinking. Why
was she still trying to help him? He really wasn’t her problem. All those
squishy sad feelings she’d had after he was gone were quickly turning to
something else. She didn’t know what to call it but it felt like it was burning
a hole through her chest.
She reached out; her hand brushing his. Her magic shocked
through her, causing them both to suck in a breath.
Again, that same spooked look. It made her shiver. What the
hell could scare Mace?
“But we have to figure this out tonight.”
She wanted to tell him not to worry but she felt drugged,
eyelids so heavy. “Tomorrow. I promise.”
“Ember.” Her name sounded like a plea but she was too far
gone.
“Tomorrow.” She mumbled, already falling into
sleep.
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