by Dayana Morency
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
Release Date: March 8th 2016
Summary from Goodreads:
This will be the summer of love . . . and death.
When seventeen-year-old Rosalynn Young pictured her summer vacation, she didn't think she would be spending it working as a maid at the Millennium Hotel. She imagined painting and gardening. But soon, in spite of her disappointment, she meets Victor Gregoire. Wayward and enigmatic, he sends a chill up her spine. Everything about him feels foreign--unearthly.
Dangerously drawn to Victor, Rosalynn willfully ignores his volatile mood swings. When she impulsively enters Victor's room, she finds a journal dating back to the 19th Century and a photograph of him from August 14, 1874.
He's hiding something sinister and she's desperate to find out what, even if it means risking everything. But Rosalynn fails to realize that her attraction to Victor comes at a price and she soon learns some secrets are better kept hidden.
She's in for the summer job of a lifetime.
About the Author
Dayana Morency discovered her passion for writing at the age of ten. Drawn to magic, mythology and legends, she began writing short stories in the fifth grade. FALLING LIGHT is her debut novel and she is an author of paranormal romance books for teens. Aside from writing, she's an occasional blogger with a passion for traveling, double fudge brownies, and all things literary. She currently resides in Miami, Florida. For more information visit:
http://dayanamorencywrites.com/
http://dayanamorencywrites.com/
Excerpt:
âHe paused, staring down at the steering wheel before he looked at me with kind eyes. âDo I frighten you?â
âYes,â I whispered.
âIf I gave you the impression I would hurt you, Iâm sorry.â He seemed at a loss, his expression somber.
I immediately regretted my words. What a stupid question.
His steely blue eyes examined my face closely. âWhy do you fear me?â
I dropped my gaze, looking for something else, anything else, to focus on, but I could feel his smoldering eyes on me. âI have no idea whatâs going on in your mind. If I could, I would take a look inside just to see what youâre thinking.â
I returned my gaze to his face, meeting his briefly before he swung his head away.
I studied his profile, wondering what he was thinking. âCan I ask one more thing?â
His eyes remained on the road and I watched his frown deepened. âI canât stop you, but that doesnât mean Iâll answer you.â
âWhere are you taking me?â I asked.
âIâm taking you home,â he replied. âWhere might that be?â
I gave him my address and after that, silence fell once more. He didnât tell me his name and I figured that he wasnât the talkative type, not that I minded. Small talk wasnât my area of expertise either. I sat quietly, staring out the window, lost in my thoughts. He mumbled something, but I couldnât make it out. I was preoccupied trying to make sense of him.
âWeâre here,â he said, breaking my concentration.
I sat up slowly, wiping my tired eyes. My vision was still fuzzy.
He parked his car in my driveway. âHow are you feeling?â
âIâm fine,â I insisted, stepping out of his car. My legs were weak and I stumbled toward my front porch.
He followed after me. âYou wonât make it up the stairs. Do you want me to carry you inside?â
âNo. Iâll sleep in the kitchen.â
He exhaled sharply. Without a word, he moved to me and lifted me up into his arms, slipping an arm under my knees and maneuvering his other arm around my back. I looked up at him to protest but stopped at the soft expression on his face. His blue eyes were calm now.
I inhaled deeply. The scent of cardamom hugged my skin, and I bit my bottom lip to restrain the urge to reach out and lay my hand against his exquisitely smooth face. He was quick and seemed to glide above the floor. The front door was unlocked, and he entered the house with me in his arms.
He rested his gaze on me as he carried me upstairs. âWhich way?â
âThe room on the left.â
Pushing the door open with his foot, we entered my dark room and he gently dropped me to my feet. By the time I flicked on the light switch and turned to face him, he was already gone, leaving only behind traces of his cologne.
He made no sound, no noise at all.
âYes,â I whispered.
âIf I gave you the impression I would hurt you, Iâm sorry.â He seemed at a loss, his expression somber.
I immediately regretted my words. What a stupid question.
His steely blue eyes examined my face closely. âWhy do you fear me?â
I dropped my gaze, looking for something else, anything else, to focus on, but I could feel his smoldering eyes on me. âI have no idea whatâs going on in your mind. If I could, I would take a look inside just to see what youâre thinking.â
I returned my gaze to his face, meeting his briefly before he swung his head away.
I studied his profile, wondering what he was thinking. âCan I ask one more thing?â
His eyes remained on the road and I watched his frown deepened. âI canât stop you, but that doesnât mean Iâll answer you.â
âWhere are you taking me?â I asked.
âIâm taking you home,â he replied. âWhere might that be?â
I gave him my address and after that, silence fell once more. He didnât tell me his name and I figured that he wasnât the talkative type, not that I minded. Small talk wasnât my area of expertise either. I sat quietly, staring out the window, lost in my thoughts. He mumbled something, but I couldnât make it out. I was preoccupied trying to make sense of him.
âWeâre here,â he said, breaking my concentration.
I sat up slowly, wiping my tired eyes. My vision was still fuzzy.
He parked his car in my driveway. âHow are you feeling?â
âIâm fine,â I insisted, stepping out of his car. My legs were weak and I stumbled toward my front porch.
He followed after me. âYou wonât make it up the stairs. Do you want me to carry you inside?â
âNo. Iâll sleep in the kitchen.â
He exhaled sharply. Without a word, he moved to me and lifted me up into his arms, slipping an arm under my knees and maneuvering his other arm around my back. I looked up at him to protest but stopped at the soft expression on his face. His blue eyes were calm now.
I inhaled deeply. The scent of cardamom hugged my skin, and I bit my bottom lip to restrain the urge to reach out and lay my hand against his exquisitely smooth face. He was quick and seemed to glide above the floor. The front door was unlocked, and he entered the house with me in his arms.
He rested his gaze on me as he carried me upstairs. âWhich way?â
âThe room on the left.â
Pushing the door open with his foot, we entered my dark room and he gently dropped me to my feet. By the time I flicked on the light switch and turned to face him, he was already gone, leaving only behind traces of his cologne.
He made no sound, no noise at all.