I’m so excited to be part of the blog tour for Edge of the Falls, a dark dystopia by brilliant and talented debut author Nazarea Andrews. I mean, just take a look at this cover:
And on top of that, the synopsis hits one of my major weak points. Check it out:
Sabah always knew where she belonged — with Berg — and what was expected of her — to care for the other children the Mistress took in.
But when a ban-wolf saves her life, things begin to change.
Arjun isn’t like the other ban-wolves, the savage creatures that are barely human. He’s gentle and furious and as Sabah spends time with him, she can’t seem to get him out of her mind. But in a world of darkness, control, and danger, is there a place for two outcasts?
A romantic retelling of Beauty and the Beast in a dark dystopia.
Annnnnd you had me at Beauty and the Beast. Plus the genre-blurring of dystopia, paranormal, fairytale, romance… I’m really stoked for this one, guys! And because Nazarea is a sweetheart, she’s sharing an exclusive excerpt with us on the blog today. Not only that, but I have a brand-new giveaway that I’ll be running on Twitter TOMORROW, March 8th.
Thanks to Nazarea, I will have the pleasure of giving away an e-copy of Edge of the Falls along with a gorgeous knitted scarf.
I can’t help but glance around as I near the outbuilding. I have not seen the white ban-wolf since we sat under the pine tree before I went to the City. I find myself missing him. Even his musical screams have been absent.
The wind has picked up by the time Cook and I finish loading the boxes onto the trolley. I shiver as I drag it through the deepening darkness, the cold wind turning my sweat to ice and promising snow.
A whisper of noise is my only herald to his presence. He is closer than he was before — and blocking my path. I pause, wipe my sweat away and scrub it on my cloak. I am uncomfortably aware of how I must look — dusty and windblown and tired.
He sniffs at me and shakes his head, violently.
“You were at the bridge,” I say, not a question. His eyes dart away, toward the City, his lips peeling back to bare his teeth. I follow the gaze, and sigh, “I hate going to the City — but my sister. She was dying.”
It is a weak excuse. I know nothing about the ban-wolf, but I have picked up on his distaste for the City.
He steps toward me and I fall back, stumbling in my surprise. His lip curls a little. Guilt pierces me — I have offended him. His claws close around the trolley handle and he jerks it forward. Silently, I follow him to the outbuilding.
He is sniffing at the packages, his ears pricked curiously. I reach for one and he growls, picks it up. I wait, watching — if he wants a box full of rice in payment for his protection, I figure it is more than a fair trade. Although it does seem an odd choice.
He surprises me — again — when he carries the box into the outbuilding, stacking it neatly with the other boxes of beans and dried goods.
He carries them all in, quickly and gracefully. I watch, too surprised to intervene — and something tells me he wouldn’t appreciate it. When he is finished, we both stand in the darkness, staring at each other. The silence stretches between us and I finally fidget. “I don’t understand you,” I say quietly. His ears prick at my words, and despite how softly I am speaking, I know he can hear me. “You’re a ban-wolf. You ought to be killing me, not risking your life by following me to the bridge. The Keepers…” My voice trails off, and I look away. The thought of the Keepers firing upon my ban-wolf shakes me. It’s unthinkable.
“They’d never shoot me.”
The voice is guttural, a sound of teeth and growls. It jerks my eyes up, and I gape at him. In all our stories of ban-wolves, I have never heard of one who could communicate in anything more than a scream. His lips twist around sharp teeth and he tosses his head, throwing his hair from his eyes. “Too many of them trained with me,” he says, and I stumble. He catches me, steadies me easily.
“Why?” I whisper, “Why are you doing this?”
I don’t specify what — protecting me, helping me, following me, watching me. I can see from the flicker in his golden eyes he knows what.
An eerie scream, so close that it makes my ears hurt fills the night. He growls, low in his throat, a sound that sends chills down my spine. But he steps toward me, pulls me closer to the protection of his body. His claws are so gentle they don’t even snag the rough fabric of my shirt. I can feel the heat of him, he’s so close. “I don’t understand,” I whisper, peering up at him.
His golden eyes are gentle and frustrated, but he smiles a little, dipping down so his breath warms the shell of my ear as he murmurs, “Neither do I.”
Nazarea Andrews is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. She loves chocolate and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, and overgrown dog. Her first book, Edge of the Falls, is available March 12.