SNEAK PEAK EXCERPT #1:
I’m trapped in a sea of screams. The cries of war swell and break like turbulent waves, pulling back for a breath before raging forward again to knock me off my feet and drown me under the noise. Voices claw desperately, a greedy symphony of agony that comes from every direction, and I can’t separate out one wail from another. They all merge into one horrifying howl so loud I’m surprised my eardrums haven’t begun to bleed.
Maybe they have; there’s blood everywhere. Who’s to say some of it isn’t mine?
I swing out with my dagger and cut an angel across her cheek. She retaliates, quickly loading a small golden slingshot with molten rocks. Her thin fingers wrap around the weapon and she draws it back, her muscles tense. I spot her mistake before she does, and when she lets the sling go, the rocks soar past me, striking one of her comrades. A slight miscalculation, and I live. The angel she struck, however, is not so lucky. His wings catch on fire, and the demon he was locked in battle with uses the distraction to deliver the final blow.
Her eyes grow wide with horror. A scream begins to bloom on her lips but I pluck away her voice before it flowers, plunging my dagger deep into her chest. She falls to the ground, and I turn away from her just in time to see another angel charging me with a long spear that is dripping in already spilled blood. His eyes are feral and dark, and I duck just before the spear skewers me, sending him toppling to the ground.
Sprawled on his back, the tan angel looks up at me and we lock eyes. Faintly, in the deep recesses of my mind, I recognize him. I know you. And he knows me--but it didn’t stop him from trying to kill me.
I try not to think about what I’m doing, who I’m killing. Burying the thoughts under the screams and making them incoherent is easier than acknowledging the lives I take. I scramble forward and put my boot on his chest, pinning him down to slit his throat.
I add two more tallies in my mind to document their deaths.Five thousand twenty-four.
I was given a copy of "Entice" ( Ignite, #1.5) by Erica Crouch for an honest review as well as a chance to take part in the blog tour hosted by Patchwork Press!
"Entice" is actually a prequel to "Ignite". "Entice" goes into great detail about the way that Pen and Azael went from being essentially "grunt" level demons to top tiered demons who's mission is to corrupt the world of man through the Garden of Eden.
I gave "Entice" 3 1/2 stars. The writing was very visual and really easy to escape into. It also explains why Pen stayed so loyal to Azael even after he acts like such a creep in "Ignite".
Now that both books are going to be available to readers I would suggest that this prequel be read first.I still think that this series of books are absolutely geared towards the younger age bracket of the YA genre. I also think that fans of Lauren Kate, Cassandra Clare & PT Michelle
Erica Crouch is from the always colorful city of Baltimore. Currently, she is studying English and Creative Writing with a specialization in Fiction at Southern New Hampshire University. She is the cofounder and head of editorial services at Patchwork Press. Her debut novel, Ignite, was published June 2013. The e-novella sequel, Entice, is due November 2013, and the last book in the series, Incite, is expected Spring of 2014. Along with the YA series Ignite, she is working on publishing a New Adult series, titled the Undying series, with the first installment, Cut, due 2014. When Erica isn’t writing, she’s reading an overwhelming stack of books, watching an obscene amount of Netflix, and procrastinating.
The crowd around me parts slowly as I run forward, jumping into the sky to let my now black and heavy wings carry me to my brother. When I reach him, he opens his arms as if to embrace me, but I shove the gesture away.
I grab his wrists in my hands and spin him around, checking for the fatal wound I was sure Michael was about to deliver. But he’s not hurt. Not really. I spin him around and around, checking for blood, not believing he could walk away from sure death uninjured.
“Relax, Pen,” he chastises, but I spin him around harder, turning his voice, his stupid, arrogant face away from me.
He has a collection of small scratches and half-healed scars across his arms, the back of his neck, and along his jaw. His bottom lip is split and he has a bruise over his eye so dark it looks black. But he’s not badly hurt, not broken anywhere--in fact, I’m more damaged than he is.
After I’m satisfied he’s not hiding a more serious injury, I drop his arms and step away.
“You are an imbecile,” I tell him.
“I’m a bloody hero, thank you very much.”
“You.” I step closer to him, pointing my finger in his face accusingly. His smile widens and I’m engulfed in rage--in an anger that expands with fear and the possibility of what could have happened. The probability of what should havehappened…but didn’t. The almost is unbearable. I curl my finger into my fist and, before I can reel in my temper, throw the hardest punch I can muster. I hear the bones in his jaw break.
He doesn’t even blink. He just puts his hand, dark with dried blood--is it his?--to his jaw and laughs, short and irritated. “Not the typical way to reward a victor, but I appreciate the gusto.”
Hot tears burn the back of my eyes. “You could have died.”My voice comes out in a harsh whisper, and I’m suddenly very aware of all of the eyes trained on us. “What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?”