We are super excited to be part of the Book Tour for OTHER THAN, a thrilling gaslamp fantasy by Mia Jo Celeste. The new audiobook version is now available. Check it out!
Genre: Gaslamp Fantasy, Paranormal Historical Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: January 27, 2017
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: January 27, 2017
Other Than #PNR A purgatory as dangerous as Dr. Moreau’s Island with zombies and romance.
It only takes one drink from the Water of Immortality to kill Evie Woods—halfway. Trapped in undead flesh, the world’s last skin-slider wakens on an island purgatory where a cursed spring bubbles with immortality, and zombie cannibals crave living flesh.
Her only hope of escape rests in the hands of the one man who would see her fail. Bound to her by cords stronger than death, Lord Victor Lowell is both the man of her dreams, and her darkest nightmares. Contrary and intractable, Victor preys on others to maintain his angelic charisma and preternatural prowess. Drawn to the compellingly gallant and vulnerable soul behind his mercurial humors, Evie can only watch as protecting her forces Victor to sacrifice yet more of himself to the ancient evil long tethered to his soul.
Trapped in an ever-escalating war they can’t stop, Victor and Evie fight time for a cure, but as the long days pass blackness tears at Evie, ripping her thoughts from her one memory at a time. Victor will to do whatever it takes to prevent her from deteriorating into a rotting husk, even if it means dooming himself, but Evie won’t surrender his soul without a fight. Battle lines drawn, the soul mates resolve to find redemption or die trying.
Vaguely aware of movement, warmth and sea spray, Evie dozed. She awoke as an icy current gripped her. Pushed or pulled, she slipped under a racing stream. She gasped. Her open mouth filled. She fought to raise her head. Water sloshed around her thrashing limbs. Why was she underwater?
His face a mask of fury, Victor loomed above the glossy liquid. Did he hold her down? Drown her?
She kicked out, bumping rocks and flesh, not connecting with the stream’s bottom. Fingers clawed through her hair. Her hair? She’d been bald when she’d passed out.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe. She sucked in water and struggled for the surface and Victor, both only inches above her.
Yet she couldn’t rise. Too much drag. A relentless force held her down.
Lips pressed into a hard line, Victor swung.
At her? She didn’t feel his fist. Yet her scalp stung from scratches. Strong fingers twined about her neck.
Too many hands. If Victor stood, fists bunched, whose hands jabbed her cheek? What scrambled for purchase over her shoulders?
More water sluiced down her throat. She gagged. Victor yanked her out of the current. An instant only. The clinging weight towed her back beneath the surface.
Victor punched again. His hand shattered the surface’s clarity before thudding against flesh—not hers—rather whatever lugged her deeper keened and squirmed, dredging up slit.
Instead of blood, foul black clots bubbled upward.
Victor wrenched Evie free and tossed her unceremoniously to the gritty bank.
Breaking the surface, a mud-slicked Howler charged Victor. Lace still hung from its pale neck and long hair slapped at its corseted torso.
Evie clamored to all fours and spluttered. Simply spluttered as air replaced water.
Mouth snapping, the thing that had once been a woman leaped on Victor. Hands grappled his neck. Nails scored his cheeks while its legs clamped around his hips—bringing him down.
Splashing, the two tumbled as they wrestled down the clay bank and into the stream.
Still short of breath, Evie frantically scanned the bits of lumber scattered around the bank. She snatched up a cracked plank, ship’s flooring perhaps. She waded into the stream and clubbed the creature. Once. Twice.
It didn’t let go.
She bashed away. Five, six and seven solid strikes later, the once-woman released Victor and whirled toward her, lunging and snuffling.
Evie lashed out in defense. Brittle skin parted, cracked skull jutted through hair, fermented gray oozed free and still the thing attacked. Evie parried and batted.
It kept coming.
Why wouldn’t it give up? Hadn’t she mashed most of its head? “Enough, enough,” Evie sobbed between gaps.
“Enough.” Victor seized the lumber from Evie’s grasp.
Done dealing damage, Evie retreated. She stumbled over the broken boards, and loose clay. Victor had the makeshift weapon, but the creature rushed Evie.
Victor sidestepped, giving it clear access.
Evie gaped at Victor. She should flee or find another weapon, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
As feathery as dandelion fluff, his hair had re-grown-- skin-slider fast.
Exertion pinked his face. His nostrils flared. He was alive and healing. Across his cheeks, skin knitted to skin. His wounds closed almost Maiden-quick. Behind the once-woman, he brought the board over her head, under her chin and lifted like he sought to hoist the hunger-crazed creature off her feet.
A living person would choke, grapple for the board, but this was a Howler. No need of breath, it craved flesh and combat. Its claw-like fingers raked the air inches from Evie’s face. Its white, unseeing eyes rolled in rotting sockets and yet the thing still focused on Evie, still registered her as prey. Perhaps, through its heavy snuffles, it smelled her. Incredibly strong, it drew Victor along. Spittle frothed from its ulcerous lips.
He grimaced. Muscles bunched. Veins stood out. Even though he planted his boots in a bit of pebbled sand, the creature moved him as easily as a plow horse turning loose soil. He’d lost his supernatural strength; however, he’d gained a new but familiar grace to his movements. Another man would be off balance. Not Victor.
Whatever he’d become, he was as agile and fierce as a jaguar and perhaps as lethal.
Book Tour Schedule
Follow the book tour from April 15 - 27, 2019.
Visit each tour stop daily and discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews, fun facts and more! To check the latest tour schedule, visit the Other Than Book Page at Book Unleashed.
About Mia Jo Celeste
Mia Jo Celeste comes from a family of writers and English teachers, so it was no surprise when she chose to pursue both careers. She grew up watching horror movies and reading romances. To her, the two genres go together like salty and sweet in kettle corn.
Social media links: Facebook | Twitter | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads
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