Monday, January 14, 2019

Shadow Walker by Anya J. Cosgrove ~ Excerpt & Giveaway


Shadow Walker
Anya J. Cosgrove
Publication date: January 17th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
A newborn witch is rescued by two smoking-hot brothers. Can she unravel their dark secrets? Or will she lose her soul trying?
Alana sucks at witchcraft. Healing, telepathy, seeing through illusions… she can’t master any of it.
Sparring with the six-foot-three muscular Walker brothers doesn’t help her focus. Alana’s not about to let herself fall for a man—or a demon—especially not the ones that abducted her in an attempt to save her life.
When a bitter demon learns of Alana’s existence, he’ll stop at nothing to possess her and drive a wedge between the two brothers. If Alana can’t learn to use her powers, she’ll die. If she can’t discern illusion from reality, she’ll lose her mind.
Nothing stays black and white in a world full of shadows.
Demons, witches, forbidden love… visit the otherworld today.


Author Bio:
Anya J Cosgrove lives in Québec with her husband, her beautiful son, and two mischievous cats. She works as a veterinarian by day. She’s a travel and Disney junkie and is passionate about her favorite paranormal series.
What would Buffy do? Kick ass!
Read it first! http://bit.ly/anyaslair




Excerpt

Liam walked over to me and grabbed the punching bag, steadying it. "Thom told me he was teaching you to fight." A wry grin curled his lips.
I halted my movements, annoyed, and served him a dose of his own medicine. "I'm getting good." I tilted my chin up, challenging him to say otherwise. Sure, I wouldn't win a wrestling championship anytime soon, but I wasn't the defenseless girl I used to be.
He crouched into a fighting stance. "Show me."
Uncomfortable, I paused. The nightmare with the bloody tattoos recurred almost every night. My subconscious was bullying me to keep the distrust between us intact, but I'd die before admitting he intimidated me. I threw a few sloppy punches his way. He blocked them with ease, a knowing smirk on his face, like he expected me to suck.
My eyes narrowed, and I channeled all my self-confidence. I increased the rhythm, added my best footwork and combined left and right hooks. He met my assaults toe to toe and pressured me to switch it up. The technique consumed one hundred percent of my focus, and I forgot I was weary. Sweat accumulated on my forehead.
Thom and Liam trained together. They had the same style, but Liam's execution was flawless. The precise movements showed impressive control. He could probably catch a fly mid-flight between his index and thumb and hold it there without squishing it.
"Thom taught you his favorite moves," he said as he went on the offensive.
He forced me to block a few mellow hits, not using as much strength as Thom. He underestimated me.  I evaded his attempts to grip my arms and retaliated.
To my extreme pleasure, a low kick scraped his knee, and surprise showed on his face.
"I told you I'm good." I spun around and headed towards my water bottle.
Without warning, he grabbed me from behind in a rear-chokehold. His forearm ensnared my shoulders like Thom used to do to practice.
As I met Liam's dangerous glare in the mirror's reflection, my entire body trembled. It wasn't the same. His hot breath on my neck reminded me of my nightmares, his touch electric, unnerving. My stomach flip-flopped.
What happened to avoiding physical contact like the plague? Can we go back to that? I committed all my strength into a quick thrust to twist out of the compromising position, but barely moved. His left arm encircled my waist, and my mouth hanged open. It was like being strapped to a rock. Thom and I never had practiced this. A smoky citrus scent invaded my nostrils, combined with something darker and fresh like the caress of a thick, early-morning fog.
Liam's lips inched closer to my ear. His darkening silvery stare never left mine as my heart played world championship yo-yo in my chest.
His voice came out rough as he said, "These tricks are fine, vital even, but against demons they're rubbish. Don't forget that." As a puppet on strings, he flipped me to face him. "The fight you'll have a chance to win will go on in here," he poked my head with his index finger. "We start tomorrow."




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