****My Book Review of The Lost will be coming later today****
About Caridad Pineiro
Caridad Pineiro is the NY Times bestselling author of over twenty-six paranormal romance and romantic suspense novels and novellas. Look for THE FIFTH KINGDOM, a romantic suspense from Carina Press in July 2011 and THE LOST, the first book in the new SIN HUNTERS paranormal romance series in August 2011. Caridad has also done the foreword for OBSESSED: EROTIC ROMANCE FOR WOMEN edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel which will be available in August 2011. Her popular THE CALLING vampire series returns in 2012, but vampire lovers will enjoy A VAMPIRE FOR CHRISTMAS (October 2011) which includes Caridad’s novella, WHEN HERALD ANGELS SING.For more information on Caridad, please visit www.caridad.com.
Visit Caridad on Twitter at www.twitter.com/caridadpineiro or Facebook at www.facebook.com/caridad.author.
About The Lost
Adam Bruno is no ordinary millionaire. The heir to an ancient race possessing a dark, powerful magic, he can shapeshift and create energy. His gifts make him a living weapon and have forced him to live in seclusion. But now an inhuman force hunts down Adam-just when he finds someone who makes him feel more human than he ever imagined possible . . .Home from combat in Iraq, Bobbie Carerra wants only peace, yet soon joins Adam in a terrifying battle against paranormal enemies who hide in plain sight. She’s drawn to his strength of mind and body; he’s attracted to her courage and intoxicating energy. Their scorching passion can either transport them to the heights of ecstasy or-if Adam’s powers rage out of control-destroy them. But when an invisible brotherhood tightens its nets and someone Adam trusts betrays him, only a heartrending decision can save them.
Book Excerpt:
Prologue
El Paso, Texas, 1991
As darkness slowly fled from his eyes, the boy woke, his head aching and his body sore, as if he had been beaten. He looked around the room, only nothing in it seemed familiar. Nothing except the man slumped in the rocking chair beside him.
He remembered the man and some kind of accident, the boy thought, recalling the bodies, fire and debris surrounding him the last time he had roused. He had been afraid, unsure of how he had gotten there in the midst of all the destruction. Wondering why he was alone because he was certain he had been with others.
A man and a woman. Close by. Holding his hand until…
An attack? he thought, not that he really remembered. He had a vague image of light so bright that it burned his eyes and face. Another memory suddenly came to him of flying through the air and hitting something hard. Possibly a wall.
Then he had been all alone until the man had come to save him.
A jingling sound intruded and the bed dipped as a big old beagle rested its paws on the edge of the mattress. The huffing sound of its breathing and clang of the dog’s tags as it shook its head woke the man.
Gingerly the man sat up, wincing from apparent stiffness. He scrubbed his face with his hands to wipe away the remnants of sleep. His dark eyes looked sad and tired, the boy thought. When the man realized that he was awake, the man said, “How are you feeling?”
The boy shrugged and even that small movement brought discomfort as every muscle complained. “Hurts,” he said, surprised by his own voice. He didn’t remember what it sounded like. But then again, he didn’t recall much of anything.
Except fear. Fear was the only real memory alive in his brain.
The man nodded and stood awkwardly, as if in pain himself. He gently urged the dog away from the bed with a soft nudge of his knee and a “Scat, Spottie.” Then he faced him and said, “Why don’t you lie back down while I get you some food…” His voice trailed off in question, but the boy didn’t understand what he wanted.
“Your name, son. What’s your name?”
The boy searched his brain, but couldn’t find the answer to that simple question, much less any of the others ricocheting through his brain.
“I don’t know.”
With a resigned sigh, the man said, “Could be the shot you took to your head. It’ll come back. Don’t worry.”
The boy lay down and as his head touched the pillow, he experienced tenderness at the back of his skull. He delicately rubbed his hand along the bump there, wondering how he had been hurt.
As soon as the man left the room, the beagle returned to the bed, but this time the dog scampered up right beside him. Almost as if sensing that he needed the comfort, the dog lay along his side and playfully butted his hand with the tip of its cold wet nose.
The dog’s antics pulled a smile to his face. He stroked the dog’s head wondering if he’d had his own pet. There was something familiar about the dog’s actions that cried out to him as the warmth of the animal’s body seeped into his hand.
The boy welcomed the comforting warmth.
Unexpectedly the heat became even stronger, almost as if it had developed a life of its own. Beside him the dog whimpered, but the boy was too caught up in the surge of heat and vigor flowing through his body, driving away the assorted aches and pains.
With an almost tired groan, the dog’s body relaxed and the beagle released a weary little breath. Was it sick? he wondered, but then heard a soft snore and realized the dog was asleep.
He jumped from the bed, but there was something weird as he landed on the floor. He could barely see past the dusty skirt along the bottom of the mattress and as he moved, the wood on the floor was cold on both his hands and feet. On his paws, he realized as he padded out of the room, the scent of the man alive in his nostrils as he tracked him to the kitchen.
The man was at the sink, beating eggs and turned as the boy entered the room.
“What are you up to, Spottie? Excited about our guest?” Smiling, he came close, bent down and rubbed his head.
The boy tried to speak, but only a low woof erupted from his mouth. Fear took hold and he barked again, hoping to reach the man and make him understand.
The man heard the almost urgent yaps and peered at him more closely. He narrowed his eyes to examine him and must have realized the dog was different now. Lurching upright, the man ran back to the bedroom, the boy following awkwardly on all fours.
The man jerked to a stop as he noted the beagle sprawled on the bed. Its muscles twitching as it chased imaginary prey in its sleep. With a hesitant glance from the dog lying on the comforter to the one hopping excitedly beside him, the man pivoted on his heel, looking all around the room as he sought out the boy.
The boy let out another yowl and jumped up and down on his front paws, long nails clacking on the floor, wanting the man to understand that he was right there.
The man finally dropped to his knees and touched the boy’s head. Trailed it down to cup the bottom of his long jowly jaw and urge his face upward. As the man’s gaze connected with the deep emerald of the dog’s eyes, the man’s eyes widened in stunned surprise.
“Holy Mother of God,” he whispered before scooping him up and holding him tight to his chest.
The boy let out a contented little mewl and wag of his tail at the comfort the embrace brought. The man would help him, the boy thought. And with his help, he would be home again soon.
El Paso, Texas, 1991
As darkness slowly fled from his eyes, the boy woke, his head aching and his body sore, as if he had been beaten. He looked around the room, only nothing in it seemed familiar. Nothing except the man slumped in the rocking chair beside him.
He remembered the man and some kind of accident, the boy thought, recalling the bodies, fire and debris surrounding him the last time he had roused. He had been afraid, unsure of how he had gotten there in the midst of all the destruction. Wondering why he was alone because he was certain he had been with others.
A man and a woman. Close by. Holding his hand until…
An attack? he thought, not that he really remembered. He had a vague image of light so bright that it burned his eyes and face. Another memory suddenly came to him of flying through the air and hitting something hard. Possibly a wall.
Then he had been all alone until the man had come to save him.
A jingling sound intruded and the bed dipped as a big old beagle rested its paws on the edge of the mattress. The huffing sound of its breathing and clang of the dog’s tags as it shook its head woke the man.
Gingerly the man sat up, wincing from apparent stiffness. He scrubbed his face with his hands to wipe away the remnants of sleep. His dark eyes looked sad and tired, the boy thought. When the man realized that he was awake, the man said, “How are you feeling?”
The boy shrugged and even that small movement brought discomfort as every muscle complained. “Hurts,” he said, surprised by his own voice. He didn’t remember what it sounded like. But then again, he didn’t recall much of anything.
Except fear. Fear was the only real memory alive in his brain.
The man nodded and stood awkwardly, as if in pain himself. He gently urged the dog away from the bed with a soft nudge of his knee and a “Scat, Spottie.” Then he faced him and said, “Why don’t you lie back down while I get you some food…” His voice trailed off in question, but the boy didn’t understand what he wanted.
“Your name, son. What’s your name?”
The boy searched his brain, but couldn’t find the answer to that simple question, much less any of the others ricocheting through his brain.
“I don’t know.”
With a resigned sigh, the man said, “Could be the shot you took to your head. It’ll come back. Don’t worry.”
The boy lay down and as his head touched the pillow, he experienced tenderness at the back of his skull. He delicately rubbed his hand along the bump there, wondering how he had been hurt.
As soon as the man left the room, the beagle returned to the bed, but this time the dog scampered up right beside him. Almost as if sensing that he needed the comfort, the dog lay along his side and playfully butted his hand with the tip of its cold wet nose.
The dog’s antics pulled a smile to his face. He stroked the dog’s head wondering if he’d had his own pet. There was something familiar about the dog’s actions that cried out to him as the warmth of the animal’s body seeped into his hand.
The boy welcomed the comforting warmth.
Unexpectedly the heat became even stronger, almost as if it had developed a life of its own. Beside him the dog whimpered, but the boy was too caught up in the surge of heat and vigor flowing through his body, driving away the assorted aches and pains.
With an almost tired groan, the dog’s body relaxed and the beagle released a weary little breath. Was it sick? he wondered, but then heard a soft snore and realized the dog was asleep.
He jumped from the bed, but there was something weird as he landed on the floor. He could barely see past the dusty skirt along the bottom of the mattress and as he moved, the wood on the floor was cold on both his hands and feet. On his paws, he realized as he padded out of the room, the scent of the man alive in his nostrils as he tracked him to the kitchen.
The man was at the sink, beating eggs and turned as the boy entered the room.
“What are you up to, Spottie? Excited about our guest?” Smiling, he came close, bent down and rubbed his head.
The boy tried to speak, but only a low woof erupted from his mouth. Fear took hold and he barked again, hoping to reach the man and make him understand.
The man heard the almost urgent yaps and peered at him more closely. He narrowed his eyes to examine him and must have realized the dog was different now. Lurching upright, the man ran back to the bedroom, the boy following awkwardly on all fours.
The man jerked to a stop as he noted the beagle sprawled on the bed. Its muscles twitching as it chased imaginary prey in its sleep. With a hesitant glance from the dog lying on the comforter to the one hopping excitedly beside him, the man pivoted on his heel, looking all around the room as he sought out the boy.
The boy let out another yowl and jumped up and down on his front paws, long nails clacking on the floor, wanting the man to understand that he was right there.
The man finally dropped to his knees and touched the boy’s head. Trailed it down to cup the bottom of his long jowly jaw and urge his face upward. As the man’s gaze connected with the deep emerald of the dog’s eyes, the man’s eyes widened in stunned surprise.
“Holy Mother of God,” he whispered before scooping him up and holding him tight to his chest.
The boy let out a contented little mewl and wag of his tail at the comfort the embrace brought. The man would help him, the boy thought. And with his help, he would be home again soon.
The Lost Book Publicity Tour Schedule
Monday, August 1
Book reviewed at Just Another Book Addict
Tuesday, August 2
Guest blogging at Paranormal and Romance Suspense Reviews
Wednesday, August 3
Book spotlighted at Book Marketing Buzz
Friday, August 5
Book reviewed at Must Read Faster
Tuesday, August 9
Book reviewed at Romancing the Book
Wednesday, August 10
Book reviewed at Books and Things
Thursday, August 11
Interviewed LIVE at A Book and a Chat Radio Show
Friday, August 12
Book reviewed at My Reading Room
Monday, August 15
Book reviewed at One Book Shy of a Full Shelf
Tuesday, August 16
Book reviewed by Mad Moose Mama
Wednesday, August 17
Book spotlighted at Examiner
Thursday, August 18
Book reviewed at The Hot Author Report
Friday, August 19
Book reviewed at Ohio Girl Talks
Monday, August 22
Book reviewed at The Top Shelf
Book reviewed at Paranormal and Romance Suspense Reviews
Tuesday, August 23
Interviewed at Literarily Speaking
Wednesday, August 24
Book reviewed at Donna’s Blog Home
Thursday, August 25
Book reviewed at Cocktails and Books
Friday, August 26
Chat with Caridad at Pump Up Your Book LIVE Chat Party! (link coming soon)
FTC Information: I received this book from Pump Up Your Book Promotion for review. I have Amazon links on my review pages but I do not make any money from these because of NC laws. I put them solely for people to check out the books on a retail site.
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