Tuesday, July 16, 2013

BLOG TOUR [Guest Post & Excerpt] The Dark Gifts Birthrights by Willow Cross


Author Willow Cross has stopped by today with a guest post for her blog tour!

Monster Love
I am frequently asked for my thoughts on so-called monsters playing the role of the good guy. Personally that's my favorite hero. One I can't resist. (Ever) The essence of a good monster: Having just enough redeeming qualities to be appealing, regardless of glaring faults and monsterdom. Who are some of the monsters we hate to love? Well of course Edward C. would be in the top five. There's another Edward on that list as well. Edward Scissorhands. Who couldn't love him? Dracula? Blade? Cole from Charmed? What about Damon from Vampire Diaries, or the Jake from Secret Circle? Let's throw in one more for fun. The Hulk. Now let's take a look at what makes them monsters. Are they Human? Not usually. Are they dangerous? Absolutely. Can they kill you? Ditto. Would they? Quite possibly. So why do we like them so much? Well that's not so difficult to figure out. They are all extremely good looking. Even the big green Hulk with his bulging muscles has some sex appeal. In addition, they have a love/hate relationship with their inner desires. (Dracula not so much, but his love for Mina transcends his thirst for blood.) Woman are generally fixers. Nothing peaks your interest as much as a handsome, mysterious stranger in need of saving. A tortured soul in need of that one true love to set him free from his demons... Let's face it, we all want to be the heroine of the story. Right? When you fantasize do you see yourself as the quiet wallflower that can't get a date, or rather, the kick-butt heroine who saves the world? A good monster, the very best monster, is one with the ability to make you cringe in fear while at the same time creating the desire to hold him close and make his troubles disappear. I am a monster lover, and regardless of other people's opinions I will be one for the rest of my life. Go team Damon! :D  

The Dark Gifts Birthrights
by Willow Cross

For one-thousand years, Druid prophecies foretold of a young witch destined to alter the fate of both human and immortal alike. This witch-turned-vampire would be capable of harnessing the supernatural abilities of both and, in a bloody rise to power, would rule with unwavering control.
Unwillingly thrust into a world she never dreamed existed, Liz Markum is catapulted into an ancient war between rival vampire factions. She must choose between those she loves and the ever-present darkness attempting to devour her very soul. Only one question remains: Will Liz claim her birthright or surrender to the dark gift? One choice. One chance. Two destinies.

 You can find it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and most online retail ebook stores. Print edition is available from Amazon and Createspace.  

PictureWillow Cross is a self-proclaimed vamp enthusiast, were-hunter, prankster, dreamer, story teller, benevolent dictator of minions, and chocolate lover. She resides in Arkansas with two children still young enough to live at home, an enormous cat named Bitsy, and a neurotic dog named Tank. Her home has been known to host the occasional ghost and several of her friends profess to be witches. Although she dearly loves Vampires and Werewolves, they are never invited for dinner.

The Dark Gifts Birthrights
Another growl rumbled through her chest as she took a step forward and to the side. The man’s hands went up in front of him. “Now just calm down.” Still eyeing the door, he made a running break for it. She slammed it shut before he could make it out. Cat-like, she pounced. She saw nothing other than the red haze covering her vision. Hot, slightly bitter fluid poured down her gullet, squelching the burn. Dizzy with the nearly orgasmic feel of it, her jaw tightened and she felt her teeth sink deeper into his flesh. His shrieks could not block out the slurping-sucking sounds as she drank. Inwardly screaming at herself to stop, she had no control. Nothing would stop the darkness from draining every last drop of the delicious nectar. Within seconds, his cries of terror changed to barely audible pleas for mercy. “Don’t. You don’t have to. Please.” The door behind them splintered from the hinges and slammed into them. Flying backward, Liz lost her hold on the man and scrambled to her feet. The raven haired man from the night before stood between her and the prey. “Get out of my way,” she hissed.