At Death It Begins
Genre: Paranormal romance
Number of pages: 418
Word Count: 98,184
Cover Artist: Krysa Designs
Amazon | Paperback | Trailer
Lendyn Hughes' grandmother has kept a secret from her for over thirty-one years, who Lendyn's parents are. A devastating break-up following her grandmother's death leaves Lendyn alone, confused and determined to find answers. Armed with only a name Lendyn attempts to unfurl the branches of her family tree never guessing it would put her life in danger.
For over two hundred years Englishman Callum Scott lived a life surrounded by beauty. A life free from all those annoying human emotions. That is until the American showed up. Lendyn flipped his world upside down and put him in the worst sort of jeopardy. He's starting to feel things and a murderer can't afford to feel.
My hand fumbled through the darkness reaching for Devin. I needed to feel him, know he was there. Something troubled me, but I couldn’t put a finger on what.
A morsel of his flesh beneath my fingers would pacify me. Assure me he was still there. I reached further until my fingers collided with the soft, peach under-flesh of his forearm. I ran a hand across his solid form pausing for a moment to trace a figure eight on the mound of muscle encompassing his shoulder. He had a body fit to be relished even in the troubling hour’s lack of sleep brought.
He purred for a moment before stretching an arm and rolling over to his stomach stifling his rhythmic snoring. I tucked the sheets over him and kissed his golden hair. It was a perfect evening; work failed to interrupt our plans which were a rarity. We went for a moonlit walk along Paradise Cove, an exclusive beach, you had to be a member of to stroll along. This meant no paparazzi to hassle us.
They were one of many drawbacks to dating a celebrity, but as I admired the contours of his body, there were benefits too. Though maybe tonight had been too perfect. That was silly thinking. We didn’t spend enough time alone for anything to be too perfect.
An eerie flash of red in my peripheral caught my attention. I sat up noticing for the first time the clock on the nightstand was flashing 11:41 over and over. One of the problems to living in an old hotel like the Beltmore … things tended to fizzle out all the time. Last month it was the air conditioning, before that, the hot water. Maybe Devin was right, and it was time to move out of this hotel and into an apartment. I shrugged, I’d debate that tomorrow.
I patted the nightstand for my cell; it wasn’t there. Then I remembered I dropped it on the dresser earlier this evening when Devin had pinned me there to deliver one of his toe curling kisses. Trying to keep quiet while navigating the dark became impossible when I stubbed my toe on one of Devin’s Sketchers and tripped headfirst into the dresser. My hand flew to my mouth muffling a scream that rushed to my lips. Devin stirred but didn’t wake.
Phew. The last thing I needed was to wake him. He was a bit of a grump and once he was awake, he’d have to leave. Work always came first.
Along the dresser, I felt the smooth outline of my phone. When the screen lit up the time was only 2:08 a.m. still early and plenty of time to crawl back into bed and snuggle up next to Devin. Halfway back to bed and my phone started vibrating. There were fourteen missed calls and one voicemail, all of which, came from one number—Emma. Now, I was a bit worried. It’d been a while since the last time I’d spoken with my best friend Emma.
Emma had this philosophy about calling once and not calling again until you called her back, hence my worry.
I dialed my voicemail, “Wednesday, 12:15 a.m—Lend, its Em call me as soon as you—BEEP.” Em was calling on the other line. Why was I so nervous to answer it?
“Em what’s going on—” I swallowed, “—is everything okay?”
Emma didn’t even get my name out before she broke into sobs. Maybe she and “Mister Perfect” broke up again.
“Hello,” I said a little louder, “you still there?” All I could hear was sniffling, maybe she accidentally pocket dialed me. I debated hanging up and calling her back when a familiar English accent came on the line—Mister Perfect. “Lendyn it’s Zach … I’m afraid I have bad news … there was an accident involving Gigi,” he paused to take a breath as I held mine, “I’m afraid she didn’t make it.”
The room began to spin, and gravity pulled at me. Was I dreaming? This had to be a dream.
Zach’s voice continued, but I didn’t hear anything except a loud buzzing as my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor.
About the Author:
Elle Jefferson lives up in northern Arizona with her two beautiful sons, wonderful husband and her German Shepard Dorrie. When she's not reading or writing she's painting or enjoying the great outdoors.
She is currently working on her follow-up to At Death it Begins, In Death's Shadow, and hopes to have it released in early December.
Amazon Author Page
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