Skin Deep by
T.G. Ayer
My rating:
5 of 5 stars
absolutly wonderful, readers will be captivated from the very first chapter.
this author never ceases to amaze me with her awesome worlds she creates with her books, i thought her valkaryie series was my fave but i think this one is, could be because its about shifters, my fave subject in books.
Tee created amazing characters, loved the female and male leads,
kailin the main female is totally kickass but she has a caring heart too, she would do anything for her friends, and the kids she counsels at the youth centre.
logan the main male lead works for a divison of the police that works with paranormal cases, his and kailins paths cross when a body is discovered and boy do the sparks fly between them, loved the way the author created their relationship, and cant wait to see what happens next.
if you are looking for a awesome shifter book then this is for you. recomend to everyone. go out and get it. you wont regret it, promise :)
thanks tee for giving me a earc in exchange for a honest review
View all my reviews
ABOUT THE NOVEL:
Title: SKIN DEEP
Series: The DARKWORLD Series
Volume: 1
Genre: Urban Fantasy - NA
Publication Date: 30th APRIL 2013
Format: Paperback
Publisher: Infinite Ink
Pages: 390
DESCRIPTION:
Panther Shape-shifter Kailin Odel just wants to be normal.
Leaving her clan, and her Alpha responsibilities, to live with her grandmother
in Chicago had been the best thing for her. Only then did she discover her
ability to track and kill the soul sucking undead creatures called Wraiths. Now
she protected the humans, and had something to be proud of.
But, when she discovers the body of a murdered shape shifter,
Kailin has to come to terms with the reality that her own kind are just as
vulnerable as the humans.
The closer Kailin gets to the killer the more she has to face
the intricacies of her people. When the time comes can she accept who and what
her real purpose is?
Excerpt 1
Icy pain sliced
through my bones, the muscles of my arms, and the flesh of my back. My spine
and thighs rippled, shifted. Changing.
Damn. Too fast.
I spared a
rueful glance at my new leather pants. And ran faster.
Had to make it
to the Rehab Center a few blocks away. I ran, my speed super-human, my need
super-charged, covering ground fast enough to make it to safety before my
Panther took over.
I took the
corner of the street behind the Center at breakneck speed, and headed for the
nearest of the gaping holes pockmarking the rusted fence.
The wind
changed before I stepped off the curb. My ears peaked and I skidded to a halt,
panting slightly, my backpack thumping against my side. The scream of tires on
blacktop echoed on the night air, shattering the silence as it grew ever
louder.
Closer.
Followed in
tandem by the whining wail of sirens. A battered sedan scorched down the
street, suspended on the turn on only two wheels. The angry whip of charred
rubber spiked the air. Horizontal again, the car jumped the curb and skidded
sideways, avoiding a collision with the fence by mere inches.
I shrank into
the shadows at my back, expelling a long, stale breath. My Panther, still
confined within my body, bucked and jerked, craving release.
I let her
surface.
A little.
For now,
super-sight would be welcome. Unlike the ability to run like the wind while
still in my Human skin, tapping into my Panther's sight required a partial
transformation—a risk I needed to take as my gut screamed danger.
Adrenalin
surged, different again from the calm fervor of my wraith hunts. I blinked. Heat
nipped at my corneas as I released my Panther sight—enough to give my eyes
feline vision.
Sight, which
sliced deep into the black nothing hugging the sidewalk, transformed my eyes
into a solid Panther emerald. For the moment, plain old Kailin Odel was back to
being Kailin of the Clan Panthera.
My cat sight
adjusted, focused. The blackness surrounding the darkened vehicle changed depth
and color, became lighter, clearer.
Someone shoved
the rear door open, and I cringed as it creaked and complained. The occupants
remained shrouded in the shadows of the vehicle's interior. Something large,
long and heavy hit the ground with a dull thunk. Then the sedan revved as
unseen sirens drew closer, louder, and it spun around and skidded off the curb.
The battered car
roared off, a police cruiser close on its tail with sirens screaming blue
murder. It didn't take a genius to figure out the parcel had to be awfully
incriminating, for them to chuck it into the garden in such a flaming hurry.
My nostrils
twitched at the stench of exhaust smoke, and my heart thumped as I waited to
cross the street. I flicked a furtive glance at the dull red glow of taillights
disappearing into the darkness. A breeze skimmed the sidewalk, ruffling my
hair, and I hurried across the street as the sounds of sirens faded in the
distance. I paused a few meters from the bundle, released my Panther's nose and
sniffed. Whatever I'd expected to scent on the air, it wasn't the tang of
copper drifting toward me—strong, rich and intoxicating.
Blood. Fresh
blood. A luscious odor, laced with tendrils of the familiar.
I moved closer,
my mind warring with my emotions. This was no bundle of rags, or some stolen
junk those thugs had thrown away, but a living being. The blood surely meant
the person now lying on the sidewalk needed medical attention.
I stood over
the bundle, the cloying odor of the blood filling my nostrils, and hesitated in
a moment of doubt and fear.
Now or never.
I took a deep
breath and crouched beside the silent form. My hand quivered as I reached out
and touched the scratchy, ragged fabric covering the shoulder of the silent
figure. At first it resisted my tug, stiff against my touch, but one more
gentle urging turned him toward me.
I gasped, my
throat closing on the sound. My heel caught as I pulled away, and I staggered
backward as hot horror burned through my veins. The face glistened, bloody and
mangled. Raw muscles and ligaments lay exposed, bare. A low moan of horror
echoed around me. Chills streaked up my spine when I realized the stricken
sound had originated from my own throat. The familiar richness of him clouded
my mind, clogging my throat and drugging my senses.
A Skinwalker.
My throat
spasmed, silencing a shriek as he stared at me. His breath whispered—shallow,
irregular, the sound ragged as he labored in his final moments. He gripped with
desperation to the disappearing threads which held him to this mortal earth.
His face held
my gaze, and somewhere behind ribs of ice my heart clenched, threatening to
implode. My own face stared back at me, reflected from within eyes as blue as
oceans. Eyes filled with excruciating pain and desperate fear. He didn't speak,
just studied me for a few moments with those glorious eyes.
Recognition.
Gratitude. Relief.
Then...
release.
Life flickered
and sputtered out of his beautiful eyes—eyes unable to close even after his
soul departed his mortal body. Eyes stark and ghastly within a face flayed of
every inch of its skin.
Mere seconds
had passed, although I would have sworn it had been hours. Screeching tires
again interrupted my horror, and the sedan skidded beside me before I could do
much more than scramble away from the body. The killers had managed to lose the
cops, and now they'd returned to retrieve the body.
They hadn't
bargained on having a witness.
The
cold-cocking of guns set my body on fire.
It also did
something worse. With mortal fear gripping me, my imminent Change refused to
take second place anymore. My body churned the fear and my Panther grasped at
the visceral power of the adrenalin in my veins.
I ran.
A gunshot
echoed around the garden, the sound ping-ponging off the aging brick walls of
the surrounding apartment buildings.
I gasped as a
blast of searing pain slammed into me, as a bullet buried itself deep within my
shoulder.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
I have been a writer from the time I was old enough to
recognise that reading was a doorway into my imagination. Poetry was my first
foray into the art of the written word. Books were my best friends, my escape,
my haven. I am essentially a recluse but this part of my personality is
impossible to practise given I have two teenage daughters, who are actually my
friends, my tea-makers, my confidantes… I am blessed with a husband who has
left me for golf. It’s a fair trade as I have left him for writing. We are both
passionate supporters of each other's loves – it works wonderfully…
My heart is currently broken in two. One half resides
in South Africa where my old roots still remain, and my heart still longs for
the endless beaches and the smell of moist soil after a summer downpour. My
love for Ma Afrika will never fade. The other half of me has been transplanted
to the Land of the Long White Cloud. The land of the Taniwha, beautiful Maraes,
and volcanoes. The land of green, pure beauty that truly inspires. And because
I am so torn between these two lands – I shall forever remain cross-eyed.
Buy Links:
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Skin-Deep-DarkWorld-Novel-ebook/dp/B00CKGOKY4/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1367214456&sr=1-7&keywords=skin+deep
Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/311034
Author Links:
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/TGAyerAuthor?ref=ts&fref=ts
Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5726831.T_G_Ayer
Website:
http://tgayer.wordpress.com/
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