Blurb: Ally Watson struggles to live with the choices she made, the worst of which resulted in her soul mate's death. Michael’s sacrifice to save the girl he loved may have reversed the Apocalypse, but not the permanent damage inflicted by living with his loss.
Ally begins a journey where she soon discovers that death is not always the end, but sometimes the very beginning. With old friends, she journeys to the Nosferatu Nation where she meets with new alliances willing to help her in her quest to defeat the Devourer. At every turn, Ally unearths secrets that threaten to destroy those she loves.
The second installment of The Vulcan Legacies series will put Ally to the ultimate test, forcing her to face her fears and the true destiny she will fulfill as Azrael, the Seraph of Death.
Ally quietly turned to leave but stopped as she heard Marik.
“No, please. Don’t…go,” Marik said.
Something grabbed hold of Ally’s chest. She stood still trying to understand what she was feeling inside. This didn’t sound like the Marik she knew. He sounded wounded, weak, vulnerable—all the things Ally felt. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the conflict she struggled with now.
“Ally…” Marik whispered.
“You called me Ally. The Devourer refused to call me by my name,” Ally said. She didn’t know why she responded to him. He didn’t deserve words or kindness, but there was something in her that was drawn to him.
“Ally, I will not ask your forgiveness. I…don’t deserve it,” Marik said between breaths. He struggled to push himself up into a sitting position, wincing as he did. “But I will tell you,” Marik cleared his throat, “I am…so very sorry.”
“Sorry is not enough,” Ally said. She moved in closer. She lowered herself to the floor, to where she was eye level with him. She circled her fingers around the bars. “Sorry will never bring Michael back,” she said. She didn’t know where the words were coming from but she continued. “Sorry will never be enough to pay for the sins we both committed together.”
“You are blameless,” Marik said. “You didn’t…know. I did and I let him…take me.”
Ally didn’t move away as Marik scooted across the cell floor closer to her. The only things separating them were the thick steel bars. Ally truly had no fear left. It was simply gone.
“Was there truth to anything you ever said to me? Or was it the Devourer the entire time masked as you?” Ally asked.
Marik was mere inches from her. He raised his hand and swept his raven black hair from his eyes. Ally had nearly forgotten how piercing blue his eyes were.
She stared into their icy blue depths. They reminded her of winter. They were cold, like frost over ice. They reminded her of Michael, too. She felt as though she were truly looking at Marik for the first time. Even through the moonlight, she could see the resemblance. If Michael had had black hair like Marik’s they would have been nearly identical. It was painful staring into his eyes, to see how his skin was stretched over his cheek bones. She could see more than a craving for blood, the sustenance the Nosferatu required, in his gaze. There was another hunger there. Something different and unlike anything Ally had seen in their depths before. But her gaze never wavered. Ally didn’t flinch under his heated gaze.
Marik reached through the bars, gently brushing his fingertips against Ally’s hand.
She didn’t jerk away. She looked down to where his skin touched hers. Ally looked back up, as a single crimson red tear slid down his cheek.
“The Authority help me, but I never lied about the way I felt and still feel about you.”
By age 5, Sasha Hibbs' favorite movie was Gone With the Wind. By age 12, she completed her 7th grade book report on the sequel, Scarlett. By 18, she met and married her very own Mr. Rhett Butler and as it turns out, she never had to worry about going back to Tara to win the love of her life back. Fortunately, he stuck with her.
With a love of all things paranormal, the ambiance of the South with its gigantic antebellum mansions and canopies of Spanish moss, and a love for her husband’s rich storytelling of blacksmiths and the mythology surrounding their origins, it wasn’t long until the world of her debut novel, Black Amaranth, was born.
When not working her day job as a nurse, you can find Sasha dreaming of her next beach trip, reading the latest YA novel, and drinking more white chocolate mocha than she should.
Sasha lives in mountainous West Virginia with her husband, Tim, and their two daughters, Aeliza and Ava. She is currently hard at work on book two in The Vulcan Legacies series.