Sacrifice by Jennifer Snyder

Title: Sacrifice

Author: Jennifer Snyder

Series: Succubus Kiss #3

Genre: New Adult, Paranormal Romance







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The battle between Kenna Blake and the wraith isn’t over…



As the wraith grows stronger, Kenna is forced to follow the devastating path she has struggled to avoid since becoming a succubus. Her desire to free herself from him increases—but the cost of riding herself of the wraith comes at a shocking cost she isn’t willing to pay.



Once she commits an unspeakable act while overtaken by the wraith, Kenna fears he has won and that she is out of options, as well as time. It is after this devastating moment occurs that a savior steps forward, willing to sacrifice eternity for her salvation.



Will Kenna change her mind and allow someone to pay the ultimate price for her soul?

Kiss of Awakening (Prequel, currently FREE!)

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Seduce (Book #1)

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Savor (Book #2)

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Excerpt

          Dear God, I had become one of those girls. The type I hated most. The kind who acted as though they couldn’t breathe without their boyfriend shoved up their ass. This was what I thought about as warm hands slipped beneath my tank top to caress against my stomach. Randal had mentioned the need to visit Red River, as well as run a few other errands, and instantly, my heart pounded. The desire to ask if I could tag along burned across the tip of my tongue, but I sank my teeth into my bottom lip to keep the words at bay.

          When had this happened to me? When had I become one of those girls?

          If I thought hard enough—and was completely honest with myself—I could pinpoint when. It happened after returning home from Avalon Bay. Something inside of me changed during that trip, and not for the better. The search for Lexy Bloom—who happened to be the only witch I knew of with the power to rid me of the vile wraith taking up residency inside of me—had gone well. We had found her little shop, Bloom’s Garden, without trouble, and after pleading my case to her, she had agreed to help with minimal resistance. While I had felt horrible once she informed me of the toll performing a spell of this caliber would take on her, the feeling disappeared the second she elaborated on what the spell would cost me.

          My soul.

          No matter how you twisted it, that was the price I would pay.

About the Author

Jennifer Snyder lives in North Carolina were she spends most of her time writing New Adult and Young Adult Fiction, reading, and struggling to stay on top of housework. She is a tea lover with an obsession for Post-it notes and smooth writing pens. Jennifer lives with her husband and two children, who endure listening to songs that spur inspiration on repeat and tolerate her love for all paranormal, teenage-targeted TV shows.

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Giveaway

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Epiphany Sneak Peek - Christina Jean Michaels

Synopsis:

“I had my first psychic dream when I was nine. Psychic implied power, and powerful wasn’t a word I’d use to describe myself. I couldn’t foretell the future or conjure visions at will, but I couldn’t think of a more fitting word to describe what I sometimes saw in my dreams.”

For 23-year-old Mackenzie Hill, tossing her life down the garbage disposal is easy after a painful incident shatters her life. Her heart is bleeding, and moving to Watcher’s Point is a chance to start anew, only she isn’t prepared for the guy who walks out of her dreams and into the flesh.

Literally . . . because she’s been dreaming about this sexy stranger for years. Mackenzie is even less prepared to face the dark nature of her dreams. They’ve turned disturbingly gruesome, full of blood and murder, and when they begin to coincide with the media’s headlines, she and Aidan realize her visions might be the key to stopping a madman from killing again.

Only Aidan has painful secrets of his own, and perhaps the biggest danger of all is falling for him.

Excerpt:

Something inside me cracked right along with Aidan’s expression. Everything he’d been hiding spilled from his eyes.

“Aidan . . .”

“I need a drink.” He strode away, leaving me glued to the spot where he’d trapped me. A crash resounded from the kitchen, followed by splintering glass. I willed my feet to move, ignoring the little voice of reason pointing out that maybe I should leave him be for now.

He was sweeping broken glass into a dustpan when I walked in. “Are you okay?” Instantly, I wished I could cast a net and pull back the stupid, inconsiderate question. Of course he wasn’t okay. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not . . . okay.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know what you meant.” He emptied the dustpan into the trashcan and then opened a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, all the while refusing to meet my eyes.

“Mind sharing?” I asked. If there was ever a time for drinking, it was now.

“I thought you were beyond corruptible.”

I recalled how he’d said something similar on Halloween. “You remember more about that night than you let on, don’t you?”

He pulled two tumblers from a dark cherry wood cabinet. “I remember you.” Amber liquid sloshed into both glasses as he poured, and moment later he closed the distance between us.

“Straight up?” The question sounded like a challenge.

“Sure.” I gulped down the whiskey and ignored the burn as it slid down my throat. Heat ignited low in my belly, though whether from the alcohol or Aidan’s scrutiny, I wasn’t sure.

He leaned against the kitchen sink and finished off his own drink before pouring another. “I’m sorry I blew up on you. I didn’t come here to make friends . . . to complicate things.”

“I’m a complication?”

His laughter was empty, cold as a morgue. “You’re about as complicated as they come.”

I stared at the bottom of my glass. “Why’s that?”

“You look at me as if you see right through me. It’s unsettling.”

“I don’t mean to unsettle you.”

“Consider me unsettled. Problem is, I think you’re using more than eyesight.” He glanced at me and, never breaking eye contact, finished the whiskey in one long gulp.

I gripped my glass. I’d rather have my teeth pulled than tell him how often I’d dreamed of him over the years. “Can I have another?”

He grabbed the bottle and moved toward me, and I saw him in my mind’s eye as he’d been in the drawing; bare chest, subtle muscles, hair narrowing down to his belly button . . . I stumbled back as he poured a refill.

“Thanks.” The smooth whiskey went down easier the second time.

“Did you dream about me too? Is that why you followed me on Halloween?”

I took another step back, but he advanced until the edge of the counter bit into my spine. “I didn’t.” The lie sounded weak, even to my own ears.

“I think you did. The way you looked at me, like you saw a ghost or something . . .” Brushing against me, he set his tumbler on the cool granite. “At first, I thought maybe you recognized me from somewhere—”

“No,” I interrupted, desperate to lead him away from the subject. “You were imagining things.”

“No, I wasn’t.” He gently pried the empty glass from my fingers and set it next to his. Nothing stood between us now; not even the last shred of my secret.

I held fast to it anyway, like a child unwilling to let go of a tattered teddy bear. “You can think whatever you want. Doesn’t make it true.”

“Doesn’t make it not true.”

About the Author:

Christina Jean Michaels was born in Paradise, California, but she has found the true home of her heart in Eugene, Oregon where she finds plenty of inspiration for storytelling.

When she was young, her mother said she hated words. Now she can't imagine not writing. She became an avid reader when she was thirteen and discovered the world of Sweet Valley High.

About a year later she realized she could play God and write about her own characters. She has been writing in some form ever since.

She lives with her husband and their four children—three rambunctious UFC/wrestling-loving boys and one girl who steals everyone’s attention.