Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Valen becomes Georgia’s only source for the lifesaving blood dubbed “Juno’s Miracle.” Focused on her work, she doesn’t realize his claws are sinking deeper and deeper as he traps her in his twisted grasp.
The cure and power. Pleasure and pain. Valen offers all this and more. But the vampires never intended to give their help for free…
Land of Shadow is a full-length dark romance and is the second of the Fall of Dawn trilogy. This series is for readers who enjoy dark, atmospheric elements, horrormance, and an engrossing plot that drags you in and refuses to let you claw your way out.
(Trigger please check preface for all triggers. This is a horrormance, so have a care if you’re squeamish.)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
“Time is a flat circle.” —Rust Cohle, True Detective
LAND OF SHADOW
Dr. Georgia Clark works to find a cure for the plague that has ravaged humanity and ended civilizations. Georgia’s sister matches her efforts, but instead of seeking a cure through science, Juno seeks salvation through power. When superhumans emerge from the shadows, their emissary Valen Dragonis offers what humanity has failed to discover on its own: an opportunity to survive.
Valen becomes Georgia’s only source for the lifesaving blood dubbed “Juno’s Miracle.” Focused on her work, she doesn’t realize his claws are sinking deeper and deeper as he traps her in his twisted grasp.
The cure and power. Pleasure and pain. Valen offers all this and more. But the vampires never intended to give their help for free…
Land of Shadow is a full-length dark romance and is the second of the House of Night trilogy. This series is for readers who enjoy dark, atmospheric elements, horrormance, and an engrossing plot that drags you in and refuses to let you claw your way out.
(Trigger Warnings: blood, torture, gore, murder, more murder, additional murder, blood, blood play, high heat, dark themes, illness, hospitals, loss, grief. This is a horrormance, so please have a care if you’re squeamish.)
1
“Not a good day to move around.” Mike frowns at me from his spot behind the barricade.
“I’m not going far. Just to my office.” I give him what I hope is a convincing smile.
“You sure your sister is okay with this?” He absentmindedly grips the stock of his rifle, his other hand tucked in the pocket of his fatigues.
“I’m not under house arrest, Mike.”
He squints a little as a cold gust blows through the capitol grounds. “I know you aren’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to go riding around the city. It’s dangerous. Are you even armed?”
I give him my best glare, hoping I’m at least half as intimidating as Juno. “I’m not out here for a joy ride. I’m working. Get off my dick, all right?”
He sighs and taps a gloved finger against his helmet. “Keep your head down out there and get back before dark. Got it?”
“Yes.” I roll out of the checkpoint and onto the sidewalk. The oak trees overhead filter the sunlight, the branches all but bare this time of year. I pedal easily across East 15th; it’s still blocked with razor wire and guard posts at the cross streets around the capitol. Doesn’t make for easy navigating, but I’ve perfected my route over the past few months. After that, I cut across an alley and onto another sidewalk. I slow down before I reach MLK Boulevard. Crossing that street with anything less than hypervigilance is a good way to land in the emergency room. A sobering thought given how overwhelmed they already are.
Traffic, though intermittent at best, still flows, and plenty of people are braving the frigid weather to move around in the city. Some of them in nothing more than motorized bikes or dune buggies. Anything that still runs—as long as the driver can afford gas or rig solar panels to it. I pull up my scarf to cover my nose, the tip of which feels nearly frozen. A gust blows past, intensified between the buildings, and I have to put my foot down to keep my bike and me from falling.
“Shit!” I creep off the curb and turn to look left and right several times as I ease across the intersection. One car stops for me, but a precariously lifted truck blows past in the opposite direction. Once it’s rumbled away toward the stadium, I pedal hard, shooting to the sidewalk and sailing with the wind at my back past vacant parking lots and overgrown plots of dead turf. The theater building has been tagged so many times since it shut down that it looks like a piece of modern art.