WELCOME AUTHOR CHRISTINA CHANNELLE
A dreamer, Christina Channelle holds two degrees in health sciences but has always had a passion for writing. You will find her reading other young adult novels, or typing up a new story on her computer. Outside of writing, she enjoys movies, music, and has recently embraced a new-found love for sushi. She resides in Ontario, Canada. Dahlia and Fallen Tears are her first published novel and novella.
She is currently working on the next book in the Blood Crave Series.
10 Things You Didn’t Know About Christina Channelle
1)I have an unnatural fear of birds. I’ll jump at the sign of a sparrow. Scream for dear life at the flock of pigeons in the subway station.
2)I hate ham.
3)I work concerts during the summer so I get to see different musicians which can be fun.
4)I’m Canadian, eh!
5)Obsessed with Reality Television. You name it, I’ve probably watched it.
6)I’m a nerd at heart … and proud of it.
7)I watch Korean Dramas.
8)I hate shopping. When I go to the mall, I treat it like a mission. In and out as quick as possible with the fewest of causalities.
9)The first time I had a grilled cheese sandwich was in university. My friend made me one after she recovered from shock. Yes, I’m sheltered.
10)My first job was at a movie theatre. Best job for a teenager, I tell you. Free movies, anyone?
Dahlia (Blood Crave #1)
by Christina Channelle
Publisher: Christina Channelle
Published: Dec 21 2012.
Genre: YA
Formats: Kindle.
Description:
What would you do if your dreams were more than just dreams?
When you knew in the depths of your soul that you were unlike the rest?
For seventeen-year-old Dahlia Winters, this is her truth. Her coping mechanism is to simply forget and deny the strangeness that is her life. Orphaned, her past remains a mystery. Now residing with a foster family, she finally feels normal--or attempts to. Yet, dreams continue to torment her. Not only consumed by visions of miraculously healing wounds, but of a lust for something she should never naturally crave.
Then a green-eyed stranger enters her life echoing her inner thoughts and voicing warnings about others wanting to harm her. He knows things about her that no one should possibly know, and he awakens her in ways she never expected.
This leads Dahlia to discover who she really is, for she is more than just human. With this newfound knowledge, and the elements suddenly fighting against her, she finds it hard to trust anyone. And as she finally awakens and comes to grips with the power she possesses, she fights to stay alive.
Before the world, as she knows it, ceases to exist.
Prologue:
I was five when I knew something was different about me...my first memory.
Parentless, I had no recollection of who they were or what they even looked like. All I knew was that I was alone, residing at an orphanage disconnected from the outside world—disconnecting myself from the outside world. I pictured it even now, like an oil painting drawn across a canvas. The thick, heavy bristles of the paintbrush created an array of colors as the bright blue sky connected to the shockingly white snow. The snow blanketed everything around me, as if protecting me, the green forest displaying itself at every angle.
This orphanage was out of place in such a nature-infused environment. A large, two-story building, its windows seemed to cover almost every surface of brick. I remembered the brightness of the sun as it hit my sleepy face through one of those many windows. It would instantly warm my body as it greeted me to yet another day.
Taking a closer look, vines covered old, gray bricks as they coursed over the external surface of the orphanage. I used to have nightmares about those same vines making their way into my room as I slept. They’d appear ominously as their shadows pounded against the walls, taunting me as a storm brewed on outside. Venturing toward my bed, the vines would slither across my body, immediately trapping me in place. One would manage to wrap itself around my neck, squeezing tightly, as I struggled for air. Rendered frozen, the feeling of fear took hold as it bubbled up deep inside my chest. And as I felt the burning pain in my throat, a thought would flash through my mind of this moment being my last. It never was, though, as I would instantly wake up.
I always did have a wild imagination.
To chase away the terror, I found myself standing before my windowpane the morning after. The bright sun beating down on my skin, I realized my fear derived from nothing more than a dream. Sighing in relief, I remained motionless, my eyes drawn to the vast forest off in the distance. It surrounded the orphanage, like a gatekeeper, the leaves of the trees bristling in irritation. The wind blew right through those tall structures, whistling, as my ears picked up the all too familiar sound.
I somehow found myself standing directly in front of that very forest. My memory was hazy on exactly how I got there but I recalled waking up, after one of my many dreams, to the feeling of immense hunger as my body stirred in discomfort.
Then I was suddenly at the foot of the forest.
This was not me simply being hungry. I would almost describe it as a feeling of starvation, like there was some essential component that my body missed. Whatever it was, this need was so powerful that I was weak in the knees by the pain as my belly contracted and released, contracted and released, continually. Food provided temporary relief for me, but there was always this presence in the corner of my mind as my brain searched for the one thing my body craved.
I ignored that nagging voice in my head, the one whispering for something I was unaware that I even needed. It was something unfathomable yet inherent. I paid it no attention and just openly stared at the forest that beckoned me. The view distracted me for a moment, which was good, as it temporarily calmed my stomach rumblings. Taking shallow breaths, the cool air blew in and out between my cold, chapped lips.
It was at that exact moment I realized the forest was in fact isolating me from everything and everyone outside of its confines. Almost like a hungry bird circling its prey. Even young, my instincts picked up on that, which immediately told me something.
Eyes were watching me.
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