New Year - New Covers!!!!
Nichole Giles is releasing the cover of the third book in her Descendant Series!
We are also so excited to be a part of the revealing of the new covers for the first two books in the series!
Connect with the Author Here:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/nicholegiles
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3229176.Nichole_Giles
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Nichole-Giles/e/B00EHLI0T6/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Only the strongest will survive…
Abby and Kye have lost everything but each other. They’re
on the run and Abby’s wound from the Arawn Dagger is draining her power—which
is also her life force—leaving her unable to access her Light or her Healing
ability.
As Kye and Abby fled Mexico, her mother slipped her
information that led her to believe her “dead” father might still be alive. While
the hunt for him takes them back through Abby’s childhood homes, they’re forced
to question everything they’ve been taught and everyone they’ve ever trusted.
Including each other.
When Abby’s best friend is kidnapped by demons, Abby and
Kye launch a rescue attempt that morphs into a battle. Abby needs to prove she
has what it takes to rid the world of demons, or the royal bloodline and the
Gifted generation will be obliterated once and for all.
And now for the Cover!!!!
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And now let's take a look at the first two books and their new covers!
Grab your copy of these books today:
Here is sneak peek into Legacy
Once we’re
checked in, I follow Kye to the elevator and down the hall to our room,
dragging my suitcase behind me. He opens the door and waves me ahead of him.
Dropping my bags on the floor, I stumble to the bed and fall backward onto it
to stare at the ceiling. Kye’s face appears above mine. “You okay?”
I
nod. “Exhausted. But I’ll live.”
His
smile eases some of the tension between us. “I hope so. If you didn’t, I
couldn’t.” He sits next to me and runs his fingers down my jaw, across my
cheek. “I thought it would be good to have some time alone. We should talk
before we get to Kiersten’s.”
We’ve been alone since we left. My
stomach twists with anxiety, and I can’t prevent the catch in my voice. “More
confessions?”
His
fingers keep moving, tracing my collar bone and shoulder. “No. But I think we
need to at least try to make a plan, figure out where we’re going—what comes
next. Sleeping arrangements.” He glances meaningfully at the pillows. “Didn’t
occur to me until now that maybe I should ask for a double. We’ve been sharing
for long enough that I just assumed.”
I
close my eyes, too exhausted, too confused to seriously think about anything
right now. And the truth is that more than anything else, I need to be held.
Our lives have been turned upside down and inside out. We’ve left behind
everything and everyone we’ve ever loved except each other—and we have no idea
when we’ll see any of them again—if ever. He’s all I have, and I’m all he has.
Regardless of past hurts and mistakes and issues, we’re going to have to learn
how to let go and depend on each other, regardless of whether we want to be
together the way I once thought we would.
We’re
going to have to figure out how to trust each other again.
My
lack of response has him sighing as he stands. “I’m going to take a shower. Do
you need to get in the bathroom first?”
“No,
go ahead.” I don’t move except to turn my head and watch him go. Everything
about him screams misery—frustration. I know the cure for his frustration could
probably come from me. But I don’t know how to give it to him. Not in my
current state of mind.
When
he comes out twenty minutes later with wet hair, wearing his flannel pajama
bottoms and a T-shirt, I’m still lying in the same spot. He pauses next to me,
a bemused expression lighting his eyes. “It’s all yours. If you want it.”
Sighing
wearily, I stand, expecting him to move, but he doesn’t, and his position
leaves us close. “Abby,” he murmurs. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.
Please.”
I
shake my head, not because I don’t want to talk to him—I know, know, I need to. But I’m exhausted, and
overwhelmed, and my brain is so full, I don’t even know where to start. His
palm cups my cheek, and I lean into it, eyes closed. His relief is nearly
palpable as we stand there, close enough to touch, and yet miles apart, because
the contact of his skin on mine—even palm to cheek—still makes me quiver, heats
my blood. And Kye feels it.
Eventually,
I cover his hand with mine and hold onto it as I step around him, keeping our
fingers connected until I step into the already steamy bathroom and close the
door.
Check out all the great blogs that are a part of this event by following along on the Facebook page.
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