Mom With A Kindle: BOOK BLITZ [Excerpt + Giveaway] Burdened (Book 1) by Peiri Ann

Burdened (Book 1)

Release Date: April 2014

Summary from Goodreads:

Eighteen-year-old Tracey Warren is a ‘run-of-the-mill’ high school student on the verge of graduation. She has her friends and her fun; she has life all figured out. Or she thought she did.

Her pedestrian reality crashes around her after an innocuous touch from a diabolically handsome stranger. Just one touch from Nathan Newcomb and her head and her world spins out of control. Soon she discovers that the only cure for the uneasy feelings and pain is Nathan himself. A man whose very existence balances between violent chaos and rigidly controlled dangers.

Nathan knows that the life of a woman mated to a burdened Sephlem is destined for peril beyond a human’s reckoning. But Tracey calls to his desire to experience love in spite of the hazards. And Nathan’s impossibly potent magnetism draws Tracey into a bonding that will put her in mortal danger again and again.

Once the pair becomes one, the threat escalates and nowhere is safe. There are enemies that lurk behind every corner. But the greatest danger may be in the bloodlines that course through Nathan’s veins.

Can a love for all time survive or will their burdened souls surrender and fade away?

(Warning: Burdened contains mature contact and strong language some may not find appropriate for readers under the age of 18.)

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I wake up on a bed, in what seems to be the nurse’s office. It smells of rubbing alcohol and those blue, hockey puck-looking tablets that are thrown in the toilet and turn the water blue. It doesn’t stink, but it is not helping my headache any, either. My ass hurts and my head is pounding.

Pushing myself to sit up, the room begins to spin. It adds a nauseous feeling to my problems. Moving with more precaution, I slowly reach for my head. Stopping when I see a figure moving in my peripheral vision.

I want to look, but out of fear of what I might see, I will not, because if it’s him—the hot guy that hit me in the parking lot—and I barf, this situation could get a whole lot more embarrassing.

Without turning my head, I peek out of the corners of my eyes.

There they are—those masculine, broad shoulders even a concussion cannot make you forget. Clearly!

Wait—is he sleeping? His shoulders are moving steadily and calm. He can’t be just staring at me and not saying anything. I question turning my head, not only because I don’t want him to see me look at him, but also because I fear my worsening headache.

Unable to not look, I turn my head, taking less than a second. Maybe even a millisecond.

“What are you doing?” Busted! “Practicing for the exorcist?” he retorts sarcastically.

I’m caught. What type of an excuse can I use for this? Trying not to turn my head fast to look at you, in case you were looking at me. NO!

“Um, I was, um, trying to…stretch…my…neck slowly…to avoid, making my head hurt worse,” I say stupidly, taking one word at a time, just to connect each word as it came into my head.

He gets up from the chair and walks in my direction.

That walk. He seems to sway across the floor, his shoulders moving with each step. Left foot, right shoulder, right foot, left shoulder. I quickly peek at him, hoping he doesn’t see. I notice that he doesn’t slouch and his jaw is tight.

I look away as he gets closer. I have no idea what he is going to do or say. I do know he’s close and I want him to touch me again. As long as I don’t pass out…again.

His hands are in his pockets as he approaches the bedside. “Would you like to go get some Ibuprofen for your head?” he asks, bending over, looking at my forehead. Well, I assume he’s looking at my forehead. “The nurse is still here, and she has been waiting for you to come to.” Hands still in his pockets. “You feeling okay?”

I must be looking foolish, because he said that as if it was the second time he’d asked me. “Umm, yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, let’s go see what the nurse has for you. Maybe she can do something about your headache.” With his hands still in his pockets, he offers me his arm to grab.

I refuse to take his arm. Not that I do not want to touch him, because I definitely want to touch him. I just figure, if he wants to help me, he would have offered me a hand for more stability. Offended, I say, “Nah, that’s okay, I got it.” I shoo his arm away.

Still not looking at him, my grip tightens around the edge of the bed, readying myself to stand up. Not sure if I’ll be able to do so without help, but I’m willing to take the chance.

His breathing changes, sounding impatient. I must be taking too long for him. I peek at him through my lashes. He’s looking at me, raising one of his smoothly, thick-laid eyebrows. “You sure you got it?”

“Yes,” I drag out slowly. “Getting impatient?” I ask, sounding a little more aggressive than I intended.

The truth is, I am incredibly dizzy and not sure if—when I stand—I will be able to continue standing. I am also giving the spinning blue and black tiles on the floor time to settle.

“Nope, just didn’t want you to hit the floor.” He smirks cockily.

About the Author

I fell in love with the short story writing after I started reading a lot of fiction fantasy. I loved the idea of creating new worlds and placing people to live within them. Then came the love. Awe...love. Specifically I love to write paranormal romance, adding a twist to everyday life. I'm a lover of YA and NA, but I've written some middle grade fantasy fiction that is soon to be released.

You can never write 'too much,' you can never read 'too much,' you never learn 'too much,' and there is never 'too much' imagination and creation. Everyday is a new day to dream, to create, to love, to try again and again, to live, and to explore. Time may be short but we have to take as much of it as we can, to make sure it doesn't slip away.

My moto, "Love Life's Loves because Life Loves You"

If you love something, do what you need to do to have it, the only person holding you back is you.

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