Title: Echoes
Author: L.A. Ashton
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: February 25, 2019
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 78500
Genre: Paranormal, LGBT, Vampires, werewolves, paranormal, romance, friends to lovers, immortal, reunion, Viking
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Synopsis
After one thousand years of listless
eternity, Oskar is used to his particular brand of loneliness. But a long walk
through Middle America and a few chance encounters will lead him straight to a
man he’d known to be long since dead―his childhood best friend, Aranck.
Being undead hasn’t stopped Aran from
living life to the fullest. He has all the money and power his charm and
business savvy could earn him, and plenty of friends. Lately, though, something
seems to be missing. After a millennium, perhaps the world’s shine has worn
off—and that’s when Oskar stumbles back into his life, reminding him of who he
used to be.
Together the two vampires remember what
it felt like to live, all the while navigating a conflict with the local pack
of werewolves. A lot has changed in a thousand years, and only time will tell
if those changes will bring Oskar and Aranck closer together, or ensure they
remain apart.
Join NineStar Press Authors Alex Harrow, L. A. Ashton, and Tash McAdam on FACEBOOK for a virtual launch party of their releases, EMPIRE OF LIGHT, ECHOES, and WE ARE THE CATALYST!
Find the party HERE. The event is February 25th from 8-10 PM CST, but feel free to drop by and stay as long as you wish!
For more info on each author and their books, visit:
EMPIRE OF LIGHT by Alex Harrow
ECHOES by L.A. Ashton
WE ARE THE CATALYST by Tash McAdam
Stop by for exclusive snippets, character takeovers, prizes, and swag!
Excerpt
Echoes
L.A. Ashton © 2019
All Rights Reserved
Prologue
Ana’s eyes opened, unseeing. Her limbs
were heavy, anchored to the floor by her own weakness and fatigue. And yet, she
was alive.
That confused her.
The rough punctures of a bite burned at
her neck. Blood dripped slowly from the wound, traveling the few short inches
from her throat to the hardwood. Everything else felt fine; no broken limbs, no
gashes or extraneous injuries. Her head rang, a high trill in the dark―perhaps
a minor concussion sustained while collapsing.
The room smelled like blood, wolves, and
a bit of spilled beer. But shapes were still hazy black masses in dim red
lighting, and even with her superior sight, she couldn’t discern foreground and
background, solid artifacts and darkness.
She closed her eyes. What would be more
useful to grasp first, memory or sight? She could recall vague things: the
laughter of her brother beside her as he beat them at another hand of poker,
the limited light of the room, and the shuffle of cards against skin. Then
there was…
She tipped her head, pressing her cheek
against the coolness of the floor.
A vampire. A vampire had charged into
the bar―their bar―and attacked.
After all the work she and Jackson had
done, after all the effort they’d put into pack and vampire relations…
She opened her eyes again. There was
movement, slow and deliberate as if the person wasn’t entirely coherent. She
could barely see her packmates around her. Four of them were strewn about the
floor, unmoving. They were alive, though, and that confused her as well. Their
heartbeats and breaths filtered into her range of hearing as her mind cleared,
and she could see the steady rise and fall of her brother’s chest.
Why would a vampire attack them? No―why
would a vampire attack them and leave them alive?
She attempted to track the motion. There
was a figure moving above them, heavy boots clomping against the floor. She
looked toward their face and they paused, gazing down at her with a face
swathed in shadow.
Her focus was bleary. She wouldn’t have
been able to make out their features even if they’d looked at her full-on, dead
in the eyes. They were all outlines… short or close-cropped hair… average height…
They had no heartbeat.
Her lips parted. She wanted to ask them
why. Here lay five of her pack, drained to the point of immobility but not
death. They would heal fast, as werewolves do, and they would track this
assailant, as werewolves do. And then, without trial, they would kill them.
What kind of fool are you?
But she didn’t ask; her mouth was too
dry and her body too slow, and by the time her mind had formed a proper
question, the vampire was walking toward the entrance. The door opened up―a single
rectangle of blue-black cut into the red-black of the bar―and bright stars
shone quietly, like everything in the world was at peace.
The vampire sent one last look at her
pack. Then they closed the door―softly, as if to not disturb. Ana stared at the
doorway in sedated wonder.
Eventually she closed her eyes. The rest
of their pack would find them, or their hearts would slowly beat them back to
health, and the hunt for a vampire would begin.
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Meet the Author
L.A. Ashton is an LGBT+ author writing LGBT+ fiction. They enjoy rock music, traveling, and anything else that adds color to their daydreams. They believe in the healing properties of art and of having a cat firmly stationed on one’s lap. Their official site can be found at www.LAAshton.com.Website | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr
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