Amy Patrick's Blog - Posts Tagged "free-excerpt"
Read an excerpt of Crimson Born!
I'm excited about two things tonight. First, the Hidden Saga is 5 years old! (at least the first few books are.) I cannot believe it's been five years since Hidden Deep was published or how much that book has changed my life. (Hopefully it helped make yours a little better too.)
To celebrate, I'll be hosting a Facebook party on my page this Sunday, October 18 from 7-9pm Eastern time, and you're invited! There will be some fun and games and of course lots of prizes. I hope you can join us. Here's where the event will occur: https://fb.me/e/1D7sJm7de
The second thing I'm celebrating is the upcoming release of Crimson Born, the first book in my new young adult vampire series. And guess what? I have a sneak peek for you!
Please enjoy Chapter One…
The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses’ hooves was hypnotic. I blinked hard several times and sat up straighter in the buggy’s front seat bench, fighting to stay alert.
It was late, and I’d gotten up early to milk the cows and collect eggs as usual. Even Josiah’s jokes and the intermittent headlights of the oncoming cars weren’t enough to keep me from dozing off on the way home to our respective family farms.
In the buggy’s covered back seat, Aaron and Hannah were going for a record in the world’s longest kiss competition and pushing the boundaries of our Amish community’s traditional Rumspringa concept.
Josiah raised a blond eyebrow at me and called over his shoulder in a sarcastic voice, “If any of our neighbors spot us on the road, you two are going to get us all confined to hymn sings and courting in the family parlor.”
“Mind your own business,” Aaron growled at him and went back to work trying his best to find out what was under Hannah’s plain blue tunic and chaste apron.
We’d spent the evening at a bonfire on the Miller’s farm six miles from our village in Lancaster County.
As we were all over seventeen, no longer under our families’ strict control but not yet officially full adult members of the community, the four of us were in that in-between period, enjoying our freedom, searching for a potential life mate, and deciding whether we wanted to commit to the austere life we’d been born to as Amish people or to pursue completely different futures as part of the mainstream “English” world.
Before the party, we’d stopped off at a local gas station so Hannah could change out of her shapeless smock into a pair of jeans and a cutoff t-shirt. She’d been giggly with rebellious excitement, announcing her intention to hook up with one of the non-Amish boys from the local high school.
“I’ll bet they really know how to kiss.”
“Won’t Aaron be mad?” I asked.
We’d gone to school with him and Josiah all our lives, but it was pretty obvious from the way he’d started watching her lately that Aaron no longer considered Hannah just a friend.
“He has no claim on me,” she’d argued, giving me a sassy grin in the dingy bathroom mirror, and continued applying a thick coat of mascara. “And what’s the point of Rumspringa if you don’t ‘bounce around’ a little? It’s what the word means.”
But after we’d arrived at the party and they’d each had a drink or two, our friends’ usual playful banter had shifted to steady conversation and then discreet kissing in the barn.
Their discretion was dissolving by the minute. Josiah chuckled and gave me an amused glance. “Some guys have all the luck. Why aren’t we back there?”
Uncomfortable, I giggled and looked away, grateful for the darkness that hid the color of my heated cheeks.
Whether inspired by his best friend’s success with Hannah or his own lack of success with the English girls at the party, Josiah had been flirting with me non-stop during the ride home. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
“You know it’s not like that with us,” I said.
“It could be.”
“Josiah...” I let out a frustrated breath. He didn’t need me to explain this.
Or maybe he did?
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings. We’d grown up on neighboring farms, and I knew him almost as well as I knew my own brothers. In fact, I loved him like a brother.
“You know I want to leave the county. Maybe even the state. You’re always going to want to be here.”
His boyish face contracted in a frown. “What’s wrong with here?”
“Nothing. It’s good. It’s great. I just... I don’t think I can stand to live in one place my whole life and only know the people I’ve grown up with. I want...”
Here I stopped, unable to put it into words. Having seen so little of the world, it was hard to even form a mental picture of what I wanted.
Josiah sounded irritated now. “What? What do you want Abigail? That tall English guy you were talking to tonight? Is that what you want?”
“No.” A pause to think about it. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Headlights from an approaching car illuminated the annoyance on Josiah’s face. The car was traveling at a lower rate of speed than the others we’d passed—although, compared to our traditional covered buggy, anything would seem fast.
When it got close enough to identify, I nearly gasped aloud. It was a red Dodge Charger. The same red Dodge Charger that had been at the Miller’s bonfire.
The same one I’d leaned against for hours, talking to its owner before Josiah had interrupted and insisted it was time to leave.
A tingly buzz filled me at the memory, a mixture of embarrassment and lingering excitement. Tonight had been one of the strangest and most wonderful of my entire life.
That heady feeling was shattered seconds later when the red sports car veered into our lane.
Though our horse-drawn buggy had reflective tape on the front and a flashing light on the rear, I worried the driver couldn’t see the black vehicle. There were hundreds of car-vs-buggy accidents in our state every year, and this stretch of highway was exceptionally dark.
Maybe Reece was dozing. Or perhaps looking down at his phone. I knew he wasn’t drunk.
Josiah jerked at the reins, urging the horses to the side of the road.
“Dunner uns Gewidder,” he muttered to himself in our native tongue of Pennsylvania Dutch.
The phrase meant “confound it.” It was the closest most of us ever got to swearing—unless we were speaking English at a party like the one we’d attended tonight.
The sports car righted itself, and both of us breathed a sigh of relief. Then just as it was about to pass us, the modern vehicle crossed the center line again.
And swerved right into the left side of the buggy.
What happened next was like a nightmare. I felt myself flying, catapulted from the open carriage through the air. There was so much noise—the screeching of car tires, Hannah’s screams, a loud shout from one of the boys—I couldn’t tell if it was Josiah or Aaron.
And then there was silence except for the ringing in my ears. I was lying face down on the unyielding surface of the highway. The asphalt was warm against my cheek from the stored heat of the day.
Or maybe it was the warmth of my blood, which was forming a pool in front of my face.
Trying to lift my head and check on the condition of my friends, I found that I couldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t move anything—or feel anything—below my neck. All I could do was lie there, fighting to breathe and watching the steady spread of that macabre red pool and the reflection of the moon overhead on its surface.
Abruptly my view changed, and I was looking at a face—a stranger.
It was a woman, an extraordinarily beautiful one with long, dark hair. She’d turned me over and was kneeling beside me, supporting the top half of my limp, numb body in her arms.
“This one’s still alive,” she said to someone behind her. “Check the others.”
At first, I assumed she was a paramedic or a police officer. But then she wasn’t wearing a uniform. She was dressed in dark clothing, but her lips and skin and eyes were rich with vibrant color.
“What... happened?” I struggled to ask.
“You were hit by a car. Pretty sure the driver was intoxicated—I saw him weaving all over the road. Are you in pain?”
The red car. Reece’s car.
My head lolled to the side, and I spotted the overturned vehicle. It was beginning to catch fire. The odors of motor oil and burning rubber filled the air.
The driver—Reece, it had to be Reece—was still behind the wheel. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was alive because he was making frantic movements. One of his hands protruded from the smashed driver’s side window and slapped the pavement repeatedly as he called for help.
The woman grasped my jaw and turned my face toward hers again.
“Don’t worry child,” she purred. “The pain will be over soon. For you and all your friends. As for that one... he’ll pay with his life.”
She tossed her head toward the man trapped inside the burning car and issued an order. “Let him stay where he is.”
From somewhere behind her a feminine voice said, “I think we should thank him for providing us with an unexpected feast. I’m starved.”
There was a smattering of laughter, and a male voice said, “I love Amish food.”
“Shut up, Kannon,” the beautiful woman snapped. “Have some respect for the dying. They’re little more than children.”
She lowered her head and brought it close to my chest—to listen to my heart? Maybe she was a paramedic after all or perhaps an off-duty doctor or nurse who’d seen the accident and stopped to help.
“Don’t,” I whispered as her face drew close to mine. “Please.”
Her grin was wide with surprise and delight, her white teeth gleaming like polished marble. A trick of the moonlight made her eyes look light purple, like the lilacs that bloomed outside our house each summer.
“You still have a bit of fight left in you,” she said. “I like that. But there’s no need to be afraid—you won’t feel a thing.”
“No.” I gasped for air. “I mean don’t... let him die. The driver.”
She drew back. The delight on her face had morphed into confusion. “Why ever not? His irresponsibility has left you broken beyond repair.”
“It was an accident. I know... he didn’t... mean to. Help him. Please.”
It was too late for me. I couldn’t move, and my breathing was growing more labored by the second. I had maybe minutes left to live, but there was still a chance for Reece. And he didn’t deserve to die like this.
“You know that boy?” the woman asked.
“No. Not really. We only met tonight. But he...”
I struggled for enough air to finish the sentence. “He said... he was my destiny.”
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. Another one is coming soon, so stay tuned! If you're planning to read the book in Kindle Unlimited, Release Day is October 30. And I hope to see you at the party this weekend! I'll be in touch soon.
Until then, hugs and happy reading!
Amy
To celebrate, I'll be hosting a Facebook party on my page this Sunday, October 18 from 7-9pm Eastern time, and you're invited! There will be some fun and games and of course lots of prizes. I hope you can join us. Here's where the event will occur: https://fb.me/e/1D7sJm7de
The second thing I'm celebrating is the upcoming release of Crimson Born, the first book in my new young adult vampire series. And guess what? I have a sneak peek for you!
Please enjoy Chapter One…
The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses’ hooves was hypnotic. I blinked hard several times and sat up straighter in the buggy’s front seat bench, fighting to stay alert.
It was late, and I’d gotten up early to milk the cows and collect eggs as usual. Even Josiah’s jokes and the intermittent headlights of the oncoming cars weren’t enough to keep me from dozing off on the way home to our respective family farms.
In the buggy’s covered back seat, Aaron and Hannah were going for a record in the world’s longest kiss competition and pushing the boundaries of our Amish community’s traditional Rumspringa concept.
Josiah raised a blond eyebrow at me and called over his shoulder in a sarcastic voice, “If any of our neighbors spot us on the road, you two are going to get us all confined to hymn sings and courting in the family parlor.”
“Mind your own business,” Aaron growled at him and went back to work trying his best to find out what was under Hannah’s plain blue tunic and chaste apron.
We’d spent the evening at a bonfire on the Miller’s farm six miles from our village in Lancaster County.
As we were all over seventeen, no longer under our families’ strict control but not yet officially full adult members of the community, the four of us were in that in-between period, enjoying our freedom, searching for a potential life mate, and deciding whether we wanted to commit to the austere life we’d been born to as Amish people or to pursue completely different futures as part of the mainstream “English” world.
Before the party, we’d stopped off at a local gas station so Hannah could change out of her shapeless smock into a pair of jeans and a cutoff t-shirt. She’d been giggly with rebellious excitement, announcing her intention to hook up with one of the non-Amish boys from the local high school.
“I’ll bet they really know how to kiss.”
“Won’t Aaron be mad?” I asked.
We’d gone to school with him and Josiah all our lives, but it was pretty obvious from the way he’d started watching her lately that Aaron no longer considered Hannah just a friend.
“He has no claim on me,” she’d argued, giving me a sassy grin in the dingy bathroom mirror, and continued applying a thick coat of mascara. “And what’s the point of Rumspringa if you don’t ‘bounce around’ a little? It’s what the word means.”
But after we’d arrived at the party and they’d each had a drink or two, our friends’ usual playful banter had shifted to steady conversation and then discreet kissing in the barn.
Their discretion was dissolving by the minute. Josiah chuckled and gave me an amused glance. “Some guys have all the luck. Why aren’t we back there?”
Uncomfortable, I giggled and looked away, grateful for the darkness that hid the color of my heated cheeks.
Whether inspired by his best friend’s success with Hannah or his own lack of success with the English girls at the party, Josiah had been flirting with me non-stop during the ride home. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
“You know it’s not like that with us,” I said.
“It could be.”
“Josiah...” I let out a frustrated breath. He didn’t need me to explain this.
Or maybe he did?
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings. We’d grown up on neighboring farms, and I knew him almost as well as I knew my own brothers. In fact, I loved him like a brother.
“You know I want to leave the county. Maybe even the state. You’re always going to want to be here.”
His boyish face contracted in a frown. “What’s wrong with here?”
“Nothing. It’s good. It’s great. I just... I don’t think I can stand to live in one place my whole life and only know the people I’ve grown up with. I want...”
Here I stopped, unable to put it into words. Having seen so little of the world, it was hard to even form a mental picture of what I wanted.
Josiah sounded irritated now. “What? What do you want Abigail? That tall English guy you were talking to tonight? Is that what you want?”
“No.” A pause to think about it. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Headlights from an approaching car illuminated the annoyance on Josiah’s face. The car was traveling at a lower rate of speed than the others we’d passed—although, compared to our traditional covered buggy, anything would seem fast.
When it got close enough to identify, I nearly gasped aloud. It was a red Dodge Charger. The same red Dodge Charger that had been at the Miller’s bonfire.
The same one I’d leaned against for hours, talking to its owner before Josiah had interrupted and insisted it was time to leave.
A tingly buzz filled me at the memory, a mixture of embarrassment and lingering excitement. Tonight had been one of the strangest and most wonderful of my entire life.
That heady feeling was shattered seconds later when the red sports car veered into our lane.
Though our horse-drawn buggy had reflective tape on the front and a flashing light on the rear, I worried the driver couldn’t see the black vehicle. There were hundreds of car-vs-buggy accidents in our state every year, and this stretch of highway was exceptionally dark.
Maybe Reece was dozing. Or perhaps looking down at his phone. I knew he wasn’t drunk.
Josiah jerked at the reins, urging the horses to the side of the road.
“Dunner uns Gewidder,” he muttered to himself in our native tongue of Pennsylvania Dutch.
The phrase meant “confound it.” It was the closest most of us ever got to swearing—unless we were speaking English at a party like the one we’d attended tonight.
The sports car righted itself, and both of us breathed a sigh of relief. Then just as it was about to pass us, the modern vehicle crossed the center line again.
And swerved right into the left side of the buggy.
What happened next was like a nightmare. I felt myself flying, catapulted from the open carriage through the air. There was so much noise—the screeching of car tires, Hannah’s screams, a loud shout from one of the boys—I couldn’t tell if it was Josiah or Aaron.
And then there was silence except for the ringing in my ears. I was lying face down on the unyielding surface of the highway. The asphalt was warm against my cheek from the stored heat of the day.
Or maybe it was the warmth of my blood, which was forming a pool in front of my face.
Trying to lift my head and check on the condition of my friends, I found that I couldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t move anything—or feel anything—below my neck. All I could do was lie there, fighting to breathe and watching the steady spread of that macabre red pool and the reflection of the moon overhead on its surface.
Abruptly my view changed, and I was looking at a face—a stranger.
It was a woman, an extraordinarily beautiful one with long, dark hair. She’d turned me over and was kneeling beside me, supporting the top half of my limp, numb body in her arms.
“This one’s still alive,” she said to someone behind her. “Check the others.”
At first, I assumed she was a paramedic or a police officer. But then she wasn’t wearing a uniform. She was dressed in dark clothing, but her lips and skin and eyes were rich with vibrant color.
“What... happened?” I struggled to ask.
“You were hit by a car. Pretty sure the driver was intoxicated—I saw him weaving all over the road. Are you in pain?”
The red car. Reece’s car.
My head lolled to the side, and I spotted the overturned vehicle. It was beginning to catch fire. The odors of motor oil and burning rubber filled the air.
The driver—Reece, it had to be Reece—was still behind the wheel. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was alive because he was making frantic movements. One of his hands protruded from the smashed driver’s side window and slapped the pavement repeatedly as he called for help.
The woman grasped my jaw and turned my face toward hers again.
“Don’t worry child,” she purred. “The pain will be over soon. For you and all your friends. As for that one... he’ll pay with his life.”
She tossed her head toward the man trapped inside the burning car and issued an order. “Let him stay where he is.”
From somewhere behind her a feminine voice said, “I think we should thank him for providing us with an unexpected feast. I’m starved.”
There was a smattering of laughter, and a male voice said, “I love Amish food.”
“Shut up, Kannon,” the beautiful woman snapped. “Have some respect for the dying. They’re little more than children.”
She lowered her head and brought it close to my chest—to listen to my heart? Maybe she was a paramedic after all or perhaps an off-duty doctor or nurse who’d seen the accident and stopped to help.
“Don’t,” I whispered as her face drew close to mine. “Please.”
Her grin was wide with surprise and delight, her white teeth gleaming like polished marble. A trick of the moonlight made her eyes look light purple, like the lilacs that bloomed outside our house each summer.
“You still have a bit of fight left in you,” she said. “I like that. But there’s no need to be afraid—you won’t feel a thing.”
“No.” I gasped for air. “I mean don’t... let him die. The driver.”
She drew back. The delight on her face had morphed into confusion. “Why ever not? His irresponsibility has left you broken beyond repair.”
“It was an accident. I know... he didn’t... mean to. Help him. Please.”
It was too late for me. I couldn’t move, and my breathing was growing more labored by the second. I had maybe minutes left to live, but there was still a chance for Reece. And he didn’t deserve to die like this.
“You know that boy?” the woman asked.
“No. Not really. We only met tonight. But he...”
I struggled for enough air to finish the sentence. “He said... he was my destiny.”
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. Another one is coming soon, so stay tuned! If you're planning to read the book in Kindle Unlimited, Release Day is October 30. And I hope to see you at the party this weekend! I'll be in touch soon.
Until then, hugs and happy reading!
Amy
