Young Adult/New Adult
Veil Walker Series by Sharron Riddle
It's hard enough being a seventeen year old Veil Walker, but when your boyfriend's a demigod and your mom's dating a soul sucker, things can get a lot worse.
Pandora has seen ghosts since she was a kid, and now she learns she can bring back the spirits of the dead. Why would she do that? She has enough trouble getting rid of the ones stuck on this side. One annoyingly perky ghost wants Pandora to find her killer, but Ukwa, her super-hot boyfriend, doesn't like the idea.
When trouble finds her, will she discover the true strength of a Veil Walker or, like the others, will her soul be trapped in her own Pandora's Jar forever?
Pandora has seen ghosts since she was a kid, and now she learns she can bring back the spirits of the dead. Why would she do that? She has enough trouble getting rid of the ones stuck on this side. One annoyingly perky ghost wants Pandora to find her killer, but Ukwa, her super-hot boyfriend, doesn't like the idea.
When trouble finds her, will she discover the true strength of a Veil Walker or, like the others, will her soul be trapped in her own Pandora's Jar forever?
Rating: Sweet
Page Count: 310
Word Count: 73924
978-1-62830-251-6 Paperback
978-1-62830-252-3 Digital
Page Count: 310
Word Count: 73924
978-1-62830-251-6 Paperback
978-1-62830-252-3 Digital
Excerpt:
“What kind of Indian are you?”
“Timucua.” His gaze met mine.
I watched as molten gold swirled. What was wrong with his eyes? They seemed to change color, and the irises were moving. I remembered last night, how they appeared to glow in the dark, as if they had absorbed the sunlight. This was too much. Ghosts and graves, blood and death. All that was bad enough and now this. Panthers. Impossible eyes. Had I finally lost my mind?
In a panic, I glanced around the clearing. A breeze swayed the branches, limbs groaning, and leaves whispering. Sophie lay in a bed of ferns, resting her head on her paws. Everything appeared normal. I turned back to Ukwa. The color in his eyes still flowed in a lazy circle.
He was showing me something, telling me secrets without saying the words.
I could hardly breathe. “Timucua, like the forest preserve. I’ve never heard of them.”
“We’re a very old people.”
I nodded. His hand slid down my arm and our fingers laced. A warm peace chased away my fears. I didn’t trust it, but I didn’t fight it, either.
“Is that enough for you?” he whispered.
“For now,” I said, though my heart fluttered like a bird trapped beneath a cat’s paw. I closed my eyes, imagining how his lips would feel on my neck. My brain sounded muffled warnings I had no desire to heed.
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