Blood Rose
By Jacquelynn Gagne
It’s true no one can out run Death. But Death doesn’t always want your existence. In Lianna’s case wants her mortality.
Long have Lianna’s dreams been a window into another time. A place that is as magnificent as it is dark. Frightened and weary from the physical toll the nightmares take on her body she turns to her psychic friend for guidance, which results in prophetic visions of Lianna’s death.
Mercenaries come after Lianna to stop her from fulfilling her fate. A destiny at her beloved’s side while rediscovering the real magic within her. Facing demise brought down on her by the hands of the mercenaries, the power of love offers her a new life as a vampire which ultimately fulfills the same epic fate the murderous villains fought to keep her from.
About the Author:
Jacquelynn F. Gagne is an obsessive compulsive author of all things paranormal. When she cannot be found in the real world she is usually found covered in paint, pastels or most usually words. Among writing, photography and art, Jacquelynn is also the Editor in Chief and cofounder for Ambrosia Arts and Midnight Hour Publishing.
Jacquelynn began working on her first novel in January of 2008, while still working full time. Though Jacquelynn has been writing most of her life, it was never her intention to become a professional writer. But when obsession grabs you, it doesn’t tend to let go. In addition to writing, Jacquelynn enjoys reading everything she can get her greedy little hands on. Currently she lives in Rogersville, Missouri with her husband James and their two sons, though she has declared to one day build a library that will substitute as her house.
Excerpt:
There was an alley to the right. Too small for the car, or could he follow? Would it be a dead end and he’d have me cornered? It was my only chance. I lunged for its opening.
My knee gave as my foot twisted off the curb sending me stumbling forward. My arms thrust out instinctively. I landed snapping my wrist back. They hadn’t softened the blow to my face as I hit the cold wet concrete.
Blood spattered from my nose and mouth. My lungs were too fatigued to even muster a scream. Instead this sickened pathetic whimper gurgled out through the stream of blood.
As I lay there, trying to muster enough will to get up, the tires squealed to a stop right next to me. My ears rang in a high-pitched echo combined with the sound of my blood rushing in my ears. “Anna!”
My whole body shook violently when I heard a rough baritone voice scream my name in an intense rage. There was no way I could run from him anymore. Would I die here? Would he take me somewhere else to prolong my suffering? How long would it take?
Another dark thought. Is this what Neesa and her mother had seen?
Futilely my eyes closed. If I had to be conscious, I refused to watch my own death. “Anna! Look at me!” One hand held onto my shoulder turning me slowly as another hand carefully took a hold of my chin, tilting it up and making me cough on my own blood.
“No.” Worthlessly defiant. I gurgled coughing on the blood filling my mouth relentlessly.
“Alright. Just hang on. I’m going to move you, okay,” his voice filled with laughter. Though weak and painful, it flooded with the sound of relief.
“No!” The scream was weak and sprayed blood as I spoke. My hand shot up defensively swiping at his face to try to push him away from me. The hand at my chin released to take my wrist gently.
Author links:
To enquire about editorial needs please contact her at Jacquelynn@ambrosia-arts.com
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