Stealing
Breath
By Joanne Brothwell
Deep in the
backwoods of North Dakota, Sarah Ross is searching for a missing child when she
is attacked by a glowing-eyed, transparent creature.
Using mysterious
abilities, Sarah escapes, only to run directly into Evan Valente, a handsome,
charismatic stranger who helps her back to safety. But why is Evan out in the
forest so early in the morning?
Sarah learns her
eyes bear the mark of the Indigo Child, an evolved human with the ability to
feel the emotions of others; unfortunately, her indigo aura is highly desirable
to those who wish to steal her powerful essence.
Soon, Sarah falls
deeply in love with Evan and wants nothing more than to follow her heart, but
she can't ignore the lingering feeling that Evan is hiding a terrible secret.
The deeper she digs, the more danger she faces, forcing her to face the
darkest, innermost parts of her soul.
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
I
awoke to rustling outside my tent. The crunching of footsteps on gravel, twigs
and branches snapping. Was that a voice? I lay motionless inside my sleeping
bag, heart pounding, listening.
“Help.”
A disembodied whisper. Was it right outside? I strained to hear but the
throbbing pulse in my head drowned everything else out. I sat up. The
atmosphere within the domed tent was wet, ripe with morning breath. The tip of
my nose was cold as an icicle.
“Help.”
The murmur came a second time, more audible than the last. I was sure it was a
child’s voice. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be the voice of the eight
year-old, Jessica Crow, who had gone missing from the neighboring Indian
Reservation three days ago?
I
thought of the drive out to the campgrounds when my friends, Amber, Kate, and I
had been listening to the radio report on the status of the missing girl from
the Wakina Reservation.
Poor Amber. Once
again, she’d cried at the reminder of her third cousin, Jessica, lost and alone
in the forest. Everyone in the community, including Amber, had been searching
for her night and day but had found nothing. I’d practically dragged Amber
along camping, telling her she needed a night off from her worries. It was a
hard sell, but she’d finally agreed.
I
glanced at where Kate and Amber should have been laying, but their sleeping
bags and pillows were missing. The last I’d seen them had been around the
bonfire at two in the morning. They could have ended up crashing just about
anywhere, and I wasn’t about to go peeking into random tents to find them.
Having
fallen asleep in my jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I slipped on my jacket and
shoes, pulled the ponytail holder off my wrist and wrapped my hair into a tight
bun. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Then, unzipping the door flap of
the dome tent, I stuck just my head out.
Nothing
was out of place. Empty cooler bottles atop the picnic table, charred wood in
the fire-pit, and the car we came in. Every campsite around us was nearly silent.
The sounds of late-night make-out sessions, pounding music, and yelling were
replaced by the occasional snore.
Using my empathy,
I focused on trying to pick up on the emotions of any lucid person around,
hoping I would hone in on Jessica’s emotions. Normally, the waking feelings of
others hit me like a gale force wind, without my even trying. In fact, it had
always felt like a bit of a curse that I was a walking sponge for other
people’s pain. But right now, all I felt was…nothing.
The voice had seemed
right outside the tent. Could I have imagined it?
I
slipped out. A low, white fog blanketed the earth, enveloping the world in
silence. The temperature hovered around freezing, way too cold for camping. And
last night’s vodka was no longer taking the edge off. I shivered.
After
checking around the cars and circling the campsite, I started down the road.
Inside the forest, the eerie glow of early morning and the cool fog blanched
the world a ghostly white. The moist nip in the air sharpened the scent of pine
needles that littered the camp ground. I continued down the road for about ten
feet until it led to the mouth of a hiking trail.
Now
that I was half-frozen and shivering, the May long weekend at the campgrounds
of Greater Slave Lake, North Dakota, seemed like a very stupid idea, even if it
was the annual spring kick-off party.
“Help!”
the diminutive voice called out again, this time, louder.
The memory of
Jessica’s face flashed through my mind when I’d met her last summer;
honey-brown eyes and springy hair that always stuck up around her head with
static, and her sweet smile, part baby teeth intermixed with adult teeth. She
was such a sweet, innocent child. If she had survived this long, she could be
dangerously close to death from cold. My heart battered against my chest wall,
and I fought off the urge to start running, directionless, into the bush to
find her.
The
voice had originated from further within the tree-line, I was sure of it.
Closer now, yet still far away. I entered the trail and headed straight.
“Jessica?”
I called out. No response but the echo of my own voice from the trees around
me.
The
trail was straight and narrow for well over a hundred feet, the trees like two
solid walls of green on either side of me. Then the trail began to snake back
and forth until it forked into several side-trails. I stopped to listen.
A
dry crackle emerged from the trail to my right, and I immediately followed the
sound. This far into the forest it was darker, the only light filtered through
evergreens and fog. I looked back. The vapor had closed in behind me, obscuring
the pathway like a curtain of white. Shivering transformed into shaking.
Despite
running these trails in the early morning numerous times, today it looked
different. I cursed under my breath and shoved my hands into my pockets.
“Hello?”
I called, my voice immediately diminishing, muffled by the woods. Other than
the odd bird chirp and frog croak, the forest was quiet. If the voice really
had been Jessica, she would need help and most likely immediate medical
attention. I forced myself forward.
The
trail wound to and fro, the brush dense, the fog almost material as it clung to
the spruce needles. The path grew thin and sparse, barely enough room to place
one foot in front of the other, with the way the underbrush encroached on the
trail. I stumbled on twigs and logs as branches clawed my cheeks and pulled my
hair. I began to trip, reaching out for something to hang onto. I fell, my hand
forced into a thorny bush.
Damn
it! I stood up and peered at my scraped hand, blood beading out of paper-cut
sized scrapes. I’d been out here for at least ten minutes, but still, I heard
nothing but the crunch of my feet snapping the twigs underfoot and my breath
echoing through my own head. Ready to turn around and head back to my tent, the
high-pitched voice rang out once again.
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My Review:
I think that this was a good book, as it had a lot of interesting elements. With the mystery of who the Skinwalker is, to learning about the Native American traditions in the local tribe in North Dakota, you can't help but be drawn into the story.
I will say the book was interesting to me the most was because I am not familiar with Native American traditions and mythology, and I thought it was an interesting introduction to it.
I must admit that the author had an interesting way of describing scent. Some of the descriptions are of things that I had never thought of before. The main one coming into my mind was her description about the scent of warm condoms. I’m sorry, but warm condoms are only warm after they have been used and then you are smelling more than just the condom. Or the condom is warm because you are an idiot and don’t know how to take care of your condoms. And again, why are you smelling warm condoms? The only thing that made me think about that is “Ewww!”
This was a good book, but I did have a hard time getting into it. Part of the reason that I might had a hard time getting into the book was because I felt like I had been thrown off a cliff with the immediate action. The immediate action without a lot of back story was a bit disconcerting and was not at all attention grabbing for me. I think another reason I had a hard time getting into the book was because of the main character, Sarah. Sarah was not appealing as a character to me. With the constant fretting and fear of her thoughts it wasn't as entertaining to read.
I LOVED the
cover art to this book. It is extremely eye-catching
and mysterious.
So, why don't you give this book a try and let me know what you think of it!
Happy Reading!
Cana
Thanks for having me, Cana Elene.
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