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Oracle

In search of vengeance will Cain find redemption instead?
Oracle_513380a700b63.jpg
Price:
Sales price: $2.50
Sales price without tax: $2.50
Rating: Not Rated Yet
Author: Kate Lynd
Description

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Book Two in The Gladiator Chronicles

Genre: Dystopian Erotic Romance

Release  March 15, 2013

Editor  Tanja Cilia

Line Editor  Greta Gunselman

Cover Designer  Delilah K. Stephens

Words  12601

Pages  67

ISBN  978-1-77127-284-1

Price  $2.50


 

Back Cover:

Cain travels what remains of the gladiator system now that the Healer has healed parts of the planet and exiled the queen. Having witnessed the brutal massacre of his entire extended family he travels simply, in search of vengeance. Kayla is from a long line of mystics and healers and she too travels the circuit in search answers of where her twin is buried. When Cain comes upon her being tortured by a cruel former Military Elite captain he intervenes. But when the captains turns his weapon on Cain Kayla reveals herself to be much more than what she initially appeared to be and stops a bullet with her bare hand. With cries of heretic rising up on the wind Cain spirits her away to safety.

In her arms his true identity is revealed, he is the long lost Oracle meant to reunite the Healer with her twins. As their passion consumes them he learns he is Kayla's conduit and his erotic touch has the power to heal her. But when a brutal act by the same captain is exacted upon her Cain must race to the only person who help him save her life. But can he get there in time. Or will Kayla die, leaving him to face his destiny alone?


 

 Excerpt

“I lost a lot of people. People I loved. And being forced to fight when hated by everyone around me didn’t make me a nice man. You think I’m a warrior with a hidden gift. I’m just a man. And not an especially nice one at that.”

“When they took my twin from me I was forced to watch what happened to her. And because we come from a long line of mystics and healers I felt her violation. I gasped her last breath as they choked the life out of her. I was hundreds of miles away from her, but I knew she was dead. But I knew that in order for her soul to rest I had to find her body and perform her burial rites. Because now, still, she lies in a mass grave and all I ever see when I close my eyes is the look of horror in hers,” her voice broke. “I failed her.” She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I must not fail you.”

The conviction with which she spoke took his breath away. He saw a tear rolling down her cheek and he wiped it away. “Who am I?”

“You were raised as Jason Seymour by the royal family for the first ten years of your life. You are a lot like me. You come from a long line of healers and mystics. And early on, your ‘visions’ were enough to scare your father and older half-sister.”

She stated all of this as point of fact. As if he were the missing Oracle everyone whispered about, now that the Healer had come to reign.

“I have no memory of the early part of my childhood. How do I know you’re not making this up?”

“I guess you don’t,” she said softly. “But healers and oracles can only deny who they are to themselves for so long before their power erupts. And if you don’t know how to channel it, it can be a terrifying experience for all concerned.”

“But you, you’re not afraid of me?”

“No. I know what it is to be you. I can’t imagine my sister trying to murder me.”

“I know what it is to see a family shot down in cold blood. Where were my powers then?”

“Hidden within. But you healed me, did you not? The welts and broken skin are healed. Only one man could ever heal me.”

“You’re romanticizing a very unromantic notion.”

“Are you saying I’m a liar?” She seemed affronted, even angry, and more than a little hurt. She tried to stand and her knees buckled. She pitched forward and he caught her, pulling her back to safety. Their faces were close. “I know the full strength of my power. It is a lonely place to be. I take on the pain of others and it sits like a rock in my chest. I see what others can’t bare to dwell upon anymore. And when I touched your hand last night I saw your greatest tragedy. And…” She started to cry. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there when it happened.” The wind began to blow, whipping the flames of the fire incredibly high and tousling her hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop it. To save them. To save you. All I can do now is ease your suffering.” She placed her palms flat against his chest and looked into his eyes, and began to chant, softly at first. As the wind blew fiercer and the flames flew higher, he noticed her hand shimmering with an eerie neon glow. The louder her voice became, the more the glow spread.

He knew he ought to be panicking. He was aware that mystics and healers weren’t always as altruistic as they seemed. But he felt as if she were summoning the deities she believed in, to heal his soul. Her eyes burned brightly as if lit by a fire from within. Suddenly he felt the full force of her powers; a vision came upon him.

He was a boy. Much younger than in his earliest memories. He was in a ruined building with a woman doing her best to comfort him. She was beautiful…slender, with long, sandy-colored hair and brilliant brown eyes. He had a gash in his leg and he was crying. She smiled at him and murmured as she laid her hand to the wound. “My sweet boy, this is both our gift and our curse. Her hand began to glow much the same way as Kayla’s was doing. The woman in the vision began to chant melodiously. The wind stirred. His leg lit up and slowly the wound healed. “My sweet Jason. You will always be my first born. Never forget I love you.”

He was jerked violently from the vision to find Kayla lying motionless on the ground. Anguish filled his soul, for he knew she was the key to finding the pieces of the puzzle surrounding the memory she had brought to light from his subconscious.

The wind had died down; the fire had nearly gone out. Her voice came to him in a whisper and what it said compelled him to act. “One man alone has the power to save my soul. It is his touch, and his touch alone, that will forever bring me back from the brink of death. No matter how many times I am forced or taken there. But he must have faith, or all is lost.”

She was so beautiful. He thought of how his simple kiss to her temple had healed her back. Or had it? He rested his hand on her heart and cradled her body, and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. She sighed softly. She tasted pure and innocent. None of the women he’d ever been with tasted like that.


 About the Author:

The author of No Ordinary Love, Another Way to Die, and the Gladiator Chronicles she also has a mutli award winning blogger and an award winning author. She makes her home in Kentucky with her pet cat Chyna and finds inspiration in the quirkiest of places.

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