Enjoy!
ISBN-13: 978-1945946059
Publisher: Strong Hold Publishing
Release Date: 5-27-2018
Length: 308pp
Born Wild #1
Source: Author for review
Buy It: Amazon/B&N/IndieBound
Publisher: Strong Hold Publishing
Release Date: 5-27-2018
Length: 308pp
Born Wild #1
Source: Author for review
Buy It: Amazon/B&N/IndieBound
Overview:
Some think seeing into the future, even if it’s death, is a gift. For me it has always been a curse. Magic rules this new world and my form of it is no blessing. Neither are the walls around me that I’ve been told are for my protection. If there is anything more cruel or vicious in the Wilds than what I’ve experienced here, I can’t imagine it. After being sold to the highest bidder, a more ruthless monster than the one who controls me is looming. My life is on the razor’s edge of disaster and about to get worse until I’m broken free, aided by one of the most unlikely allies that roams the Wilds. I’m willing to do the unthinkable and imprison another to remain free. But now my new master is hunting me and the one I’ve trapped is all that stands between me and an existence more horrific than deathRead an excerpt courtesy Donna Augustine:
CHAPTER ONE
Everybody wants to be a superhero. They want to be special, believe that they can save the world and all that blah, blah, blah, bullshit. Well, that would be everybody but me. All I wanted was to save my own ass, and maybe one other person, before I ditched what was left of the human race as soon as I got the chance.
Everybody wants to be a superhero. They want to be special, believe that they can save the world and all that blah, blah, blah, bullshit. Well, that would be everybody but me. All I wanted was to save my own ass, and maybe one other person, before I ditched what was left of the human race as soon as I got the chance.
Why? Because when the Bloody Death wiped out most of the
world, what it left behind was pretty much crap. I’ve only known a handful of
decent people and I’ve lived on this earth for eighteen years, give or take a
couple of months. That was a large enough sampling size for me.
Of course, because all I’d ever wanted was to be normal,
stands to reason I’d end up as anything but that. I’ve been cursed from the day
I was born with this strange gift. You know what was worse than having a power
you never wanted? Having one that was absolutely worthless to you when you
needed it.
Like right now, being super strong would have been great, so
I could kill the asshole standing in front of me. Or what about flying? So I
could escape. But I’m not killing anyone or escaping because, as I mentioned,
my power sucks. It was worse than having no power at all.
“You think you can leave here?” Baryn’s spit flew between
the rotted teeth he had left and a foul odor blasted my nostrils as he
screamed. His fist, covered in my blood, waved inches from me, as his pustuled
face served as an unwanted backdrop.
Baryn wasn’t my curse. He was just the nightmare that kept
reoccurring. Every. Damn. Day. And my superpower couldn’t do a thing about him.
“You’re going to pay for every second my men had to look for
you.” His face grew as red as that last fall tomato he’d eaten for breakfast.
That was how long I’d been gone too. Since breakfast. Not
even a full day. Not that long in the scheme of things, but I guess if you were
counting every single second, it added up. “You sure you’ve got the balls to
back up something that big? That’s a whole lot of seconds you’re throwing
around there, bud.” I hit the B hard, knowing that calling him bud would
take him over the edge.
Baryn’s bald head gleamed, a bead of sweat dripping a trail
to the side of his nose. I might’ve imagined he was bursting some blood vessels
as his heart hammered through his chest. He was entitled to his surprise,
considering I was changing things up unexpectedly. Normally, during our times
together, he did most of the talking, while I played more of the silent,
mysterious type.
But something had snapped in me this morning when I’d taken
a step out of the village, and then a second. It was as if that first breath of
free air had seeped into my lungs and then grabbed a hold of my soul with an
iron grip that wouldn’t let go. All the feelings and emotions I’d kept caged
within me, beaten back so I could make myself so very small, halving myself so
I’d hopefully go unnoticed whenever possible in my fight to survive—they
wouldn’t go back in. I couldn’t beat them down anymore. It was as if the iron
grip had spread out from my heart into everything that was me. That part I’d
pummeled for so long, it was refusing to listen to reason. It didn’t care if
Baryn killed me. Didn’t want to hear how it was better to be careful and
survive. It couldn’t seem to fit inside that little space I’d allowed it.
Craziest part was—I. Liked. It.
I didn’t want to beat it back, force myself to shrink
within, and the cost didn’t matter.
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that.” His arm pulled all
the way back, loading up for another swing.
That wild thing that had broken free inside of me still
refused to be cowed. “Fuck. You.”
His fist struck my nose. The familiar crunch told me it was
broken—again. It was already a mangled lump on my face, so it wouldn’t look
much worse, and I’d moved past vanity long ago. My head bounced off the wall
and then wobbled back. Blood dripping down onto the packed earthen floor, I
waited for my head to clear. Waited to see if that thing inside of me, that
part that wanted to live large and fuck the consequences, was ready to shrink
back into its small box and hide again.
No.
It still didn’t give a fuck.
My skull leaning against the wall for support, I angled my
head back to get a look at Baryn. “Be careful exerting yourself too much.
You’re not as spry as you used to be. The ole ticker might get tired out and
quit.” The nasally tone of my jibe lessened the delivery, but the ragged intake
of his breath said it hit its target well enough anyway.
Baryn’s biggest fear was death, not that you’d know it the
way he wasted his days. The problem with Baryn was the same problem lots of
people had. They acted like tomorrow was a guarantee. Yes, logically they knew
they could die today, but that wasn’t what they truly believed. They walked
around as if they had an eternity at their disposal, wasting minutes as if they
were nothing. Minutes piling up into hours and days. Years later, they had
nothing left but a spent life. Then the reaper knocked on their door and they
prayed to the gods of the Wilds for just a few of those minutes back,
because then they’d treasure them. Then they’d do this and
that and everything in between.
But everyone has a moment when it all ceases to exist, and
the reaper doesn’t care if you beg, get on your knees, and cry. The reaper
isn’t an ex who might give you one last go around. When the reaper shows, it’s
a date with death.
And the one thing I knew all too well was death. That was my
gift, if you wanted to call it that. I couldn’t always tell you when the reaper
was coming, but I knew how he was going to collect and how ugly it was going to
be. I knew who’d beg and who’d go out standing tall. When Baryn’s time came,
and it was going to be soon, he wouldn’t have a chance to beg.
Of all the deaths I’d seen, and hated every glimpse of,
Baryn’s was the one I’d been waiting for. What a death it would be. Way too
grand for the likes of him, but I’d take my opportunity to dance on his corpse
any way I got it. Even if it were only for a minute, that minute couldn’t come
soon enough.
Baryn’s face scrunched up as delayed rage finally set in.
“Worthless bitch. You deserve everything that’s coming for you.” His fist
connected with my ribs.
The pain was shocking. I didn’t care what anyone said, you
never really got used to taking a bad beating, but I knew I’d
survive. Once in a blue moon, seeing a person’s death before it happened
had an upside. Long ago, I’d realized that I saw fewer deaths with babies and
children. Since I couldn’t see my own either, it made me think maybe I only saw
the deaths that preceded mine.
Winded from doling out the beating, he stepped back, the
bulge in his pants obvious. A beating was his foreplay. The swelling and the blood
all added to his arousal. Most people didn’t find me attractive, but Baryn did.
He got off on the many scars he’d given me through the years. The way my right
leg bowed from a crudely healed break he’d caused. The scars that covered my
body.
He moved to his bed, sitting with his legs wide open and
leaning back, rubbing between his legs. He mumbled and spoke softly, sick words
I drowned out in my head.
He wouldn’t touch me, no one would—not like that, anyway.
That was the only blessing of my gift. There were too many superstitions around
my kind. They said I had Death Sight, that I was tainted by the reaper. To
sleep with me might bring instant death. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t look
his fill while he did his business.
His stares and grunting used to make bile claw its way up my
throat, gagging me. I didn’t feel anything now. Wouldn’t let him have that part
of me. I stared out the window above me, with eyes that were swelling shut, at
the tree tops beyond the wall that enclosed our village. I pushed him from my
mind until I was alone with nothing but the stars and the sound of owls hooting
in the distance.
What it had been like to run free through those trees. They
said that everything out there, in the Wilds, was too dangerous. That
bloodthirsty beasts ran the forest at night, killing anything they came upon,
and that pirates would kidnap you and sell you at slave markets.
They said the world wasn’t what it used to be a couple of
hundred years ago, back in the Glory Years, when there were great machines
everywhere. Mechanical birds soared through the air and great metal boats cut
through the oceans like whales, carrying people all over the world on their
backs. And that was only the beginning of the stories I’d heard.
So many people had been alive then that they’d lived in huge
cities of towering buildings, and when they walked, they’d bang into each
other accidentally.
But then the Bloody Death came, wave after wave. And with
each wave, the human race became weaker and weaker. Now? We’re hanging on to
the bottom rung, prey to the beasts and all the other creatures that rose after
the fall, and continued to rise.
People said it was safer here, enclosed in five square miles
of hell. But those people didn’t live my life. Maybe for them it was, but for
me, death was preferable.
Since I was a baby, I’d never been outside of those
walls—until today. I’d take my chance again as soon as I got it. I wanted to
run through the trees with no one watching and no one telling me when to stop
or when to start. I wanted to be alone and away from here.
And I had to get away soon. Worse was on its way.
Chapter Two
I woke sometime near dawn to Baryn’s fingers digging into the
fleshy part of my upper arm. Eyes barely open, I tried to untangle my legs as
he dragged me after him toward the door.
Ivan was waiting for him right outside the door, as always.
“Put her in the circle,” Baryn said, and then went back
inside.
Ivan did the bulk of the dirty work and was a stellar
employee, always doing his duty with a smile. I was handed off, this time by my
hair, as I stumbled to keep from being scalped.
Minutes later, I was chained to the post, a half-circle of
stones around it. Three inches of iron bit into the skin of my wrist. The
circle of shame, they called it. This was where they put you when you did
something bad, which could be anything from glancing the wrong way or
saying the wrong word.
I settled in, leaning against the wood, knowing I’d be here
for at least the day, if history told me anything.
I pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my chin upon them
and letting white-blond hair curtain my face. People would be rising for their
duties soon, and it was much easier to not see them than to pretend I hadn’t.
It was mutually beneficial, as they didn’t want to pretend to not see me
either.
I’d gotten as comfortable as I could when Baryn’s door
opened again. It had a very distinctive double bang when it closed, and his
house wasn’t that far from the circle. Sometimes I wondered if he liked the
view outside his window. I glanced over, and he had that look in his
eyes as they met mine.
I’d thought he was through with me for now. This wasn’t how
things went. He’d beaten me. He’d done that thing. Normally he’d be
content for at least a day and move on to some new amusement. Why was he
walking out of his house and toward me?
He paused, looking around the ground near the wooden wall.
What was he doing? Maybe he was done with me? Except I’d seen that
look. I knew that look. I’d had nightmares over that look.
Suddenly he was on the move again, but this time in the
opposite direction, and I sagged against the pole. It wasn’t until I saw the
thick branch he picked up, saw him pivot back to me with it in his hand, that I
truly panicked. Baryn liked to use his fists. He’d only used a branch one other
time, when he didn’t think he could get the job done.
I tried to pull my hand from the metal. It scraped over my
skin, bunching it like crinkled fabric, but it wasn’t enough. I would’ve broken
it if I could’ve. I would’ve done anything if it would’ve gotten me free.
Baryn walked toward me with brisk steps now, determined in
his path, the branch swinging at his side.
Ivan, who had been twenty or so feet away, fell into step
with him, as they both now charged in my direction.
Baryn turned to Ivan. “Hold her down.”
“Whatever you say.” Ivan turned to me, smiling widely and
probably wishing he was going to wield the branch.
Ivan’s steps nearing had me slicing skin from my wrist, but
unless I could sever my hand, I was caught. Ivan’s foot was planted on my back,
shoving me to the ground.
“Flip her over,” Baryn said. “I want to watch her face as
she gets what’s coming to her.”
Crows cawed from their perches, mingling with Ivan’s
laughter. He grabbed a shoulder, swinging me back around. A boot dug into
already-hurt ribs and kept me there.
Baryn took the thick branch in both hands, smiling as he
swung at the air. “That will be the last time you run. Anywhere.”
I should’ve shut up and lain there, but I couldn’t. I just
couldn’t. That thing inside me, the piece that had broken free, kept
saying, Don’t live small. Don’t let them rob you of what little you have
left. If you’re going to die, so be it. At least do it on your terms. So,
instead of shutting up and hoping he wouldn’t hurt me too badly, I smiled at
him, even as my stomach churned and I choked on its acidic swell.
I took the only swing at him I had left: “Do your worst now,
because you won’t have much longer.”
“Why is that?” he asked, white-knuckling the branch.
“The Bloody Death will be coming for you soon. I can see you
in a pile of your own shit and puke after you lie rotting for a week.”
He smiled. “Liar. There hasn’t been an outbreak of the
Bloody Death in years. First I’m dying from a weak heart, now it’s the Bloody
Death.” He laughed like a man whose heart was shriveled and black.
“We’ll see,” I said.
He was right. He wouldn’t die either of those ways. I’d
never tell him how he was going to die. Didn’t want to give him a chance to
stop it.
Baryn used his branch to point at me as he spoke to Ivan.
“Don’t let her move. This takes very precise aim.”
Ivan kept his boot steady, but he was no longer smiling or
looking at me. He was afraid of what he’d hear was in store for him. His death
was nowhere near as satisfying as Baryn’s, so he needn’t worry about me
sharing.
The branch came crashing down on my shin. First it stole the
air from my lungs and then it stole the light from my eyes. If nothing else, I
finally got the oblivion I’d longed for.
* * *
I huddled on the ground, my back to the wooden wall that
circled our village, clinging to any break from the wind I could get. It was
cold for fall, and even colder now that night had fallen again.
People gave me a wide berth as they made their way home for
the night, no one wanting to look my way and acknowledge me. If they did, they
might feel like they had to do something. It was easier to not see me. I kept
my eyes downward, so I didn’t have to watch the people walking past, pretending
to not see me.
The bowl of broth I’d been brought minutes earlier lay
turned on its side a few feet away, after Ivan had accidentally bumped
me.
“Clumsy,” he’d said, before walking away.
They wouldn’t starve me to death, though. Not on purpose,
anyway. They’d already sold me.
Tuesday, the only person left alive I cared a wink about,
had overheard Baryn and Turrock, his brother, talking about how much they’d
gotten for me. She didn’t know to whom I’d been sold, or maybe she didn’t want
to tell me. Her refusal to look me in the eye was a sure sign she’d been
holding back some of the details. No matter how I pressed her, she hadn’t said
a peep. All she’d kept repeating was I had to leave. That was how I knew
whatever was coming was really bad.
Even though I had no supplies, or warm clothing to bear the
brutal weather coming, after she told me, I’d decided to run the next moment I
got a chance. The plan we’d concocted was flimsy at best, but all we had.
Tuesday had flirted with the guard manning the gate, and I’d
slipped out. Even knowing I’d most likely be caught. With my limp, speed wasn’t
an option, but I’d been determined to escape.
My freedom hadn’t lasted long, and with pain shooting up my leg,
I wasn’t sure I’d ever have another chance. Curled on my side, I let my heart
harden a little more, knowing it might be the only way I’d survive.
The last noises finally drifted away, and the only thing
left was the wind whistling as it blew through the gaps in the wall.
Fingers whispered across my scalp, as if fearing to apply
any more pressure than a feather.
“Teddy.” My name was spoken even softer.
“Tuesday?” I opened my eyes to see chaotic, dark curls
framing a pixie face so ethereal that she could have had fairy blood in her
veins.
She had big, soft eyes, like Maura’s had been before they’d
closed for the last time.
Maura—I still felt the loss of her like a knife slashing
through my heart, even though she’d been gone for over eight years. I’d known
her death was coming, but more often than not, you couldn’t escape your time.
When the date was stamped deep inside the flesh, not even knowing could help
you avoid it.
There was a sickness that had grown in her for a long time.
She’d fought it, but death had won, as it usually did. Tuesday, her daughter,
the sister of my heart, if not my flesh, was all I had left of her. We’d been
raised together, after they’d given me to Maura to nurse.
As I held Maura’s hand on that last day, she’d promised me
the pain would eventually dull from her passing.
I was still waiting.
“Tuesday, you have to get away from me.” I scanned the area.
People were always looking, even if you didn’t see them.
They were searching for a way to get a few more crumbs for themselves, a ration
of meat on the few occasions the hunters brought back more than Baryn or
Turrock could eat. If it cost the blood of others, they simply made sure they
turned around before they had to see the outcome of their deed.
Last time Tuesday came to me when Baryn had chained me here,
she’d caught a few blows herself. The circle was isolation. A spectacle to be
seen by all but not approached. To cross the stones around the post was to risk
being chained here yourself.
She pulled a bun out from under her jacket. “Here. Take
this.”
“No, you keep it.” Food was tight, even if her lot wasn’t as
bad as mine.
Kenny, the guy in charge of keeping the walls around this
place intact, was sweet on her. He’d lightened her lot while he clung to the
hope she’d turn equally sweet on him. He’d managed to get her a job in laundry,
which wasn’t the worst you could do. After all, it kept her clear of Baryn and
Turrock.
Kenny didn’t seem like the worst as far as people went,
either. I’d never seen him look for trouble, but she hadn’t sweetened up yet,
and she probably wouldn’t.
She shoved the bun back toward me. “You know you won’t get
much while you’re stuck here. Please take it.”
I laid a hand on hers and pushed it back.
“I can’t eat it anyway.” The inside of my mouth was so
chewed up from the last punch that hunger pains were preferable. Besides, my
mouth was too dry for bread, but that wasn’t something I’d share with her.
She’d risk her life to come back with water.
“I’m okay, Tuesday. You’ve got to go away before someone
sees you. Please. I can handle anything but seeing him get to you too.”
She was barely hearing me. She stared at where the
threadbare fabric of my pants was pulled tight across the swelling of my leg,
purple flesh showing through the ripped seam.
“Your leg—”
“Will heal.” I’d walk on it again, and refused to think
anything else.
She forced a smile even as her eyes nearly flooded, tears
pooling on her lower lid. She squeezed my hand. “But you almost made it.”
Not even close. I tried to smile anyway, but the effort made
her grimace, the gash on my lip straining. I dropped the pretense and returned
the squeeze instead.
“Next time, I will.”
That was the plan. I’d escape one day. I’d settle somewhere
far away and send her a pigeon in a month or two. Then she’d follow. She could
leave here whenever she wanted. It was me who was trapped, but no matter how
many times I’d told her to go, she wouldn’t.
Part of it was fear. I didn’t begrudge her that. If I had
her life, this place might have been just enough to keep me here. Nothing good,
but nothing too horrible. Just enough. Maybe you could do worse than getting by
in this horrible place if what they said about everything out there was true.
Or maybe this place was truly hell.
Would she be brave enough to set out into the Wilds without
me beside her? I didn’t know. But dreaming about it for hours was one of the
things that had kept us both going, so I didn’t delve too deeply into reality.
I didn’t have the strength to strip the colors from the mirage when the mirage
was all we had. So we’d talk about the day we’d get out of here and neither of
us said a word otherwise.
A last squeeze to my hand and she stood, making her way back
into the shadows of the buildings. I watched for flickers of movement from
hidden watchers as she did. If a beating came her way tomorrow, I wanted to
know who to blame.
Sometimes I wondered if hate drove me more than hope now. It
didn’t really matter. Maybe hate was better, stronger. I had something to fuel
the hate. Yesterday, when I’d run through those trees, I had hope. Somehow, it
made the fracturing of my dreams that much worse. Hate was so much easier to
hold on to.
I was still huddled against the wall, wondering how much
longer they’d leave me here, when the gates creaked open. It was surprising
they worked at all with the way they groaned at doing their job. Maybe they
were trying to do their part and warn off newcomers.
At this late hour, it was probably Turrock returning. I
didn’t look up, lying limp, too injured to come awake. He might go inside his
house and get settled then. If I looked alert, he’d be drawn to me for sport,
just as his brother was. Whatever their sickness, it seemed to run in the
blood.
The night grew silent again. The danger had passed. My head
on the ground, I tried to sleep, tried to ignore the pulsating pain that
refused to stay in my one limb.
I didn’t know anyone was near me until I heard the crows caw
and then a gasp. I cracked the eye that would still open to see two men, halted
about eight feet away. Strangers, probably here to see Baryn or Turrock.
One of them had crazy blond hair that reminded me of a
lion’s mane, like I’d seen in Tuesday’s picture book. He was staring in my
direction, oblivious that he’d step over the stone ring as he stood in leather
pants too rich for anyone I knew. It might have been the white-blond shade of
my hair that was a curiosity, or sometimes it was the scars. I was a walking
sideshow.
His stare wasn’t the dirty kind that made my skin crawl, but
pity. As much as the lion wouldn’t look away, his friend seemed to have the
opposite problem and wouldn’t look at all. That I was used to.
There was a time in my life, when I was younger and naive,
that I would’ve asked for help. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I hadn’t been her
for so long that it seemed as if she’d never existed at all. The only one that
was going to save me from this hell was me, and I would. I didn’t know how yet,
but the time was coming and I didn’t need anyone. I’d be my own savior. I’d
leave this place one way or another, if only to watch it burn to the ground
from a few feet away.
I laid my head back down again, trying to ignore them.
“Koz, come on. We don’t get involved in other people’s
business. She’s probably a thief or something. Leave her be.”
I didn’t need to open my eyes to see the scene, but I did
anyway. The one who couldn’t look tugged at the arm of the lion who was fixated
on me.
“I don’t know if I can,” Koz said.
There was something in Koz’s voice that tugged at an
innocence within I’d thought I’d murdered a long time ago. I couldn’t afford
expendable emotions. Innocence and trust were among the first that had to go.
But maybe, just maybe, this one would be different? It
wasn’t like there hadn’t been a few others that had tried. Nothing ever came of
it, though. There’d always been a price to pay, either in their blood or mine.
Usually both.
But what if he had the strength others hadn’t? He looked
strong, much tougher than most of the men here.
“Koz, we need to handle our business and go.” The other man
tugged at Koz again. “Come on. It’s not the same.”
Not the same? Same as what?
I wished they’d go about their business. I needed to forget
them and not get crazy ideas, like asking for help. If they turned me down and
then told Baryn, I might end up so bad off that I wouldn’t even be able to
crawl from this place.
“Isn’t it though, Zink?” Koz asked.
Zink’s head angled slightly toward me but didn’t complete
the turn. Then he gave me his back, shutting the door on my situation. “She’s
one of them. Their business. Not ours. You know Callon’s rule. We keep to our
own, take care of our own.”
I finally took a long, hard stare at this Koz. He didn’t
break eye contact and took a step in my direction. He wanted to help, but that
didn’t matter. People wanted to do a lot of things that they didn’t do. But if
there was even a chance, how did I not take it?
Zink took a few steps away, waiting for Koz to follow him.
“Come on.”
If Koz kept staring at me for even a few more seconds, I’d
do it. I’d ask.
Our eyes held, my turquoise to his brown.
Did I dare? His eyes hardened, as if he were gearing up for
action. My heart pounded with life and I opened my mouth, silently forming the
word “help” on bloodstained lips.
“Koz,” Zink shouted.
His eyes shuttered, Koz turned and walked away. My heart
slowed, then stuttered out into a sluggish beat. I laid my head back down. It
had been nothing but wishes on the breeze, as Maura used to say. Not worth the
air it took to utter them before they blew far away, as if they’d never been
said at all.
Chapter Three
A boot nudged me in the ribs, bringing me awake. I knew it
was Baryn before I opened my eyes. I could tell by the rancid smell of him.
Turrock liked to bathe, even if it was simply because he enjoyed watching the
serving girls lug the hot water buckets as they splashed and burned their skin.
“Boiling hot,” he’d yell. “The water must always be boiling. Then you add the
cold.”
He said it was better that way, to steam the room before he
was ready to bathe. It was bullshit. Hard to steam a room with windows wide
open.
Turrock liked the subtle tortures, though. An artist of
abuse, he took a chisel and hammer to his victims, slowly whittling them away,
piece by piece. Baryn was more direct.
It was Baryn leaning over me now. Baryn and Turrock were the
only ones allowed to go near me. Every scar on my body was due to one of them.
My good eye opened a small slit. The place was sleeping and
a full moon had risen, making his shirt look blood red.
I’d never seen this shirt before in person. Only in my mind.
It was the one he’d die in. In my vision, it had been vibrant and clean, just
as it was now.
His death would come soon. Maybe even tonight? I took the
rest of his form in. He was wearing his prized ring on his pinky finger, the
one that looked too feminine for him, as if he’d taken it from a woman. I had a
hunch that the blood-red ruby hadn’t been the only bloody thing when he’d
acquired it.
The shirt.
The ring.
The full moon.
It was happening. Would it happen tonight? Could it line up
this perfectly and not?
He squatted close to me. “What do you know of Turrock’s
death?”
He’d never asked me about his brother. Did he think to kill
him? Not surprising that he wasn’t even loyal to Turrock. I needed to make
something up. Baryn was obviously up to something. Was he planning on killing
his brother? How would he do it? It wasn’t going to work, but Baryn couldn’t
know that.
I swallowed, trying to act natural. Baryn must not read the
worry in me. His wasn’t a death that had to happen. His wasn’t going to come
from within. This one could be avoided. I needed to act normal.
He. Could. Not. Know.
“Answer me when I talk to you, girl, unless you want two bum
arms as well.”
Think! Baryn would make it a gruesome death, that was
for sure. “There’s a lot of blood.”
“What else?”
He’d be sneaky about it. Poison. He’d definitely use poison.
What happened when you poisoned someone?
He raised his hand but then paused as a growling sounded
nearby. We both turned, listening for the noise that seemed to come from the
other side of the wooden wall. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, but
that sound would linger in my head for a while, maybe forever.
We were both still frozen when the wall exploded, sending
chunks in every direction. The wood splintered around us.
A blur of fur and claws flew past me as something barreled
through the huge hole in the wooden wall. A beast lunged at Baryn. Its massive
jaws clamped down on his neck and then severed his head in one bite. It was
exactly as my vision had shown, right down to the spurts of blood shooting from
his body and pouring onto the dirt as the beast pinned what was left of him to
the ground.
It had happened. It finally happened, and there was a gaping
escape route right behind me. There was also a beast crouched in front of me.
I remained frozen at the sight of it. I’d never actually
seen a beast, and to see one up close was terrifying. Its fangs hung beyond
black gums, blood dripping from the tawny fur of its jowls. Claws the size of
my fingers were partially sunk into Baryn’s still chest. It was a perfect
killing machine.
This creature would never be vulnerable. I should’ve been
repelled by the creature, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t only terrifying. It was
amazing.
Its head turned and its body shifted toward me, claws
leaving pools of blood behind. Red eyes burned into me.
I nodded slowly in Baryn’s direction as I watched the beast.
“Thank you,” I said, even knowing I might be next. Maybe it
was my time, and what a death it would be. Much more worthy a death than the
life I’d led. I’d lived in a whimper, but I’d die with a roar. It wasn’t what I
would’ve chosen, but it was something. If I died now, at least I could go
knowing Baryn was dead. Years of torment lay bleeding in front of me.
The creature stared at me, then the chain that led to my
wrist, and I could feel the growl in its chest vibrating outward. Blood still
dripping from its muzzle, it lunged for me. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut,
waiting for teeth to dig into already-battered skin. The bite didn’t come, just
a graze of wetness. There was a clanking of metal as the weight of the iron
fell from my wrist. My eyes snapped open, looking first to my free wrist and
then the mauled three inches of metal lying underneath it.
I was still staring at the metal when the beast’s claws
wrapped around my bicep. It leapt forward, yanking me backward as it did and
then dragging me through the hole in the wall. The last view of my village was
the horrified faces peeking out from behind buildings as they watched a beast
carry away its dinner.
The startled faces were soon forgotten as soon as I was
dragged over the first bump. My broken leg was jerked over a log, then a stone
and a list of other unidentifiable objects as I was pulled like a rag doll
through the forest at a pace no human could hope to match. If not for
adrenaline pumping thickly through my veins, I would surely have passed out
immediately.
I’d survive this. I’d survive. I had to survive. There were
too many deaths I’d seen that hadn’t happened yet. I wasn’t sure how, or
in what shape I’d be, but I would.
I reached out with my free hand and managed to graze my
fingers across a stick. It was too slick to catch and we were moving too fast.
I reached for another, but missed again as the beast continued at its crazy
pace. Every new bang and bump crowded my vision with black spots until there
was nothing left.
Interview with Donna
I love writing apocalyptic fiction with shifters. It seemed stupid to create a new world when I missed the one I'd already created.
Will we meet up again with any old friends from the firest Wilds Series?
Definitely. Without giving away spoilers, there are so many threads leading back to the original series that it would be impossible not to see them.
Tell us a little about Teddy; how did she come to be?
The Wilds is a very rough place and time to live. I'd always wanted to explore more of what was out there. As to Teddy, it's hard to say exactly where she came from. Characters just come knocking. I never know who's going to show up!
Even though there has been violence in your other series this one starts with some pretty bad, graphic physical abuse. Why?
When I wrote the beginning of this book, I did pause and think it might be too much for people. It scared me a little and I was the one writing it. I'd thought about pulling back and taming it down but then I went there anyway. It's what my gut was telling me to do and it was one of the main building blocks of who she was. Teddy is resilient, tough and trusts nobody. I felt that hinting at her background wasn't going to be enough for the reader to understand her. I wanted them to see where she'd come from and live through some of it with her. When they see her reactions later on, they'd know without a doubt what is driving her.
Will this be a trilogy?
Most likely : ) My brain tends to work in 3-4 books series so at least 3.
Thanks Donna!
My Review:
Wild One
Donna Augustine
Donna Augustine
Augustine takes readers back to The Wilds in a brand new adventure,
full of magic and danger staring a brand new cast of characters, with some
familiar faces and places from the first Wilds series and a brand new villain
too. Warning: the novel contains
physical abuse and even though it gives the story poignancy some readers may
find it too dark. There are similarities between the two Wilds series like the
fight to survive and a landscape that feels somewhat familiar but the author’s
inventive imagination and story crafting make this feel fresh and new. Teddy
the new star is a fighter, she’s loyal and she’s got a lot going on inside, her
counterpart Callon is the strong silent type and watching her build trust with
him and his group is entertaining and endearing, all that plus the great
chemistry and banter between them will have the audience cheering them on in no
time. The plot is tight, the pace is steady, the use of humor to lighten the
darkness is an effective tool and the secondary characters are fantastic. Bring
on book two!
SUMMARY:
Teddy was born with Death Sight, knowing how if not when someone will die. She is also the daughter of a Plaguer, someone who contracted the Bloody Death, a virus that wiped out most of the human race and survived. She learned early in life about pain, feeling it every time one of the diabolically brutal brothers who ruled their village physically abused her because of her gift/curse. Unfortunately for her it marred and broke her body, unfortunately for them it never broke her spirit and made her that more determined to escape the dismal place and run into the beautiful and dangerous Wilds. Her plan was to heal from her latest broken bone and find a way to save herself and her lifelong friend and sister of her heart, Tuesday. But that plan got shot all to heck when a beast cleared the path for their escape and didn’t eat her, win win! Then she and Tuesday are rescued by a band of men, some friendly and some not like the leader of the pack, Callon, strangers who don’t seem to be afraid of anything or anyone. And it makes Teddy wonder what they’re hiding because everyone is afraid of something especially in The Wilds. Right?
Teddy was born with Death Sight, knowing how if not when someone will die. She is also the daughter of a Plaguer, someone who contracted the Bloody Death, a virus that wiped out most of the human race and survived. She learned early in life about pain, feeling it every time one of the diabolically brutal brothers who ruled their village physically abused her because of her gift/curse. Unfortunately for her it marred and broke her body, unfortunately for them it never broke her spirit and made her that more determined to escape the dismal place and run into the beautiful and dangerous Wilds. Her plan was to heal from her latest broken bone and find a way to save herself and her lifelong friend and sister of her heart, Tuesday. But that plan got shot all to heck when a beast cleared the path for their escape and didn’t eat her, win win! Then she and Tuesday are rescued by a band of men, some friendly and some not like the leader of the pack, Callon, strangers who don’t seem to be afraid of anything or anyone. And it makes Teddy wonder what they’re hiding because everyone is afraid of something especially in The Wilds. Right?
Meet Donna:
A native of New Jersey, when she isn’t writing or over dosing on caffeine, she can occasionally be spotted in disguise at the local dog park.
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