Sunday, April 15, 2012

Blog Tour: Rise from Darkness by Ciara Knight

This virtual book tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours.
You can see the tour schedule by clicking HERE.
Welcome to The Wormhole and my day on the tour!
It is my pleasure to help promote 
Rise from Darkness by Ciara Knight.
About The Author:
Ciara Knight always had a passion for storytelling. At an early age, she wrote several short stories and poems, and in college she started work on her first novel. It wasn’t until late 2008 that she returned to her true passion of writing. Over the past few years she has penned five novels and joined several professional writing organizations to better her craft.
When not writing, she enjoys reading all types of fiction. Some great literary influences in her life include Edgar Allen Poe, Shakespeare, Francine Rivers and J K Rowling.
Ciara is happily married and enjoys family time. She has learned to embrace chaos, which is a requirement when raising three boys, and utilizes the insanity to create stories not of this world including, Fantasy, Paranormal, Sci-Fi, and Young Adult Dystopian.
Her first love, besides her family, reading, and writing, is travel. She’s backpacked through Europe, visited orphanages in China, and landed in a helicopter on a glacier in Alaska.

Rise From Darkness
Book One: Battle of the Souls
Publisher: Turquoise Morning Press
Young Adult Paranormal


Alexander Lorre gives new meaning to the term “tormented teen”. He’s a newly fallen angel, which means he has the self-control of a three-year-old, the hormones of a teenager and the strength of an angel. When he rescues Gaby Moore from drowning, the chemistry between them is undeniable. With a local demon threatening Gaby’s life, he struggles to find a balance between remaining close enough to protect her but distant enough to control his desires.

As danger draws closer, Gaby uncovers shattering secrets that will lead to an ultimate choice. Will she fight alongside her father, an earthbound hunter killing fallen angels and demons, give into the demon blood coursing through her veins and join the demon world, or save the man she loves from both? The first two choices damn her, but the last one could destroy them all.
...and now to feed your need to read...

Her father pulled the thread through the needle as she cleaned his side with iodine, revealing a three-inch gash. Blood didn’t faze her, not anymore, but the needle did. She flinched at the sight of her father pushing the needle through and tugging it out the other side. The way his skin pulled with the thread made her queasy.
“Daddy please quit. We can find another way to pay the bills. I can get a part time job to help. You’ve done enough.”
“What’s enough?”
“It already cost you your wife. Would you risk your own life leaving me orphaned?” It came out so fast she didn’t have time to stop herself. It was horrible and untrue. He didn’t have anything to do with her mother’s death. He blamed himself because he was driving the car that night. But it wasn’t his fault, it couldn’t have been.
The hurt in his eyes broke her heart. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. The first aid kit dropped to the floor when she stood, once again feeling like her world was spinning out of control, and went to her room to sulk.
It took forever before she fell asleep, and even then, she tossed and turned. Visions of darkness and evil filled her dreams. Monsters clawed and tore at her flesh. Bright lights exploding-suffocating-pain.
Her own screams startled her awake. It had seemed so terrifyingly real. She glanced at the digital clock beside her. It was only three in the morning, but she knew she couldn’t go back to sleep. Not with those visions in her head. Crawling out from under her sheet, she went to her makeshift art desk and started to draw.
The first picture, full of the familiar army greens, tree bark browns, and charcoal grey swirled together into what looked like several creatures fighting. They resembled a cross between a bear and a coyote with a hunch back like a buffalo.
The next one showed shades of orange and gold with silver lined clouds. A sunset over an ocean appeared tranquil, but at the bottom the dark colors with claws turned up and overtook the white clouds.
The last one looked like her room. The white wings she had painted before appeared to be wrapped in a cocoon. A daffodil yellow light shone from the top of the bed.
All of them were strange, each one evoked a different emotion when she looked at them, fright, concern, and peace. Sighing, she slipped them into the leather portfolio her mother had given her just days before she’d died. Sniffing back tears, Gaby headed downstairs to get a bottle of water.
When she looked in on her father, he lay stretched out asleep on the couch with an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. He still wore his bloodstained shirt. Two days worth of beard shadowed his face.
She froze. Her pulse thundered in her ears while she stood there staring at him. Sweat dripped down from her temple and an image flashed back to her.
The water bottle hit the floor. She raced up the stairs to her room and tore open the old memory chest her mother had given her. Papers flew everywhere as she ripped through binders and notebooks until she found it.
The exact image of her father, whisky bottle, blood and position of his body were identical.
Except, she’d painted it eight months ago.