Saturday, October 11, 2014

Facade: A Vampire Love Story by R. M. Webb


Release date:  September 23, 2014
Sub-genre: Fantasy, Paranormal, Vampires

ABOUT Facade:

Claire Jacoby is desperate to remember who she is and where she comes from.  Isolated by the fact that she can’t remember her past, she builds a life, however hollow, out of the fragments of herself that remain.  In the seven years since awaking alone and confused in the woods, she’s learned to hide behind social customs, creating a facade to protect the secret she hides from the rest of the world.

Claire is struggling with disconcerting flashes of information, unsettling thoughts and images that she fears are memories.  When William Foley comes into Claire's favorite cafe, his very presence demanding her attention, she’s overcome by the sense that she knows him.  He sweeps into her bitter, colorless little life, unconcerned about hiding his unnaturally quick movements and cold skin, and starts putting Claire back together piece by piece.

William knows Claire and has the answers to questions she’s been asking for seven years.  He also knows she has dangerous enemies. William must protect Claire as she learns more about herself, each piece of the puzzle bringing her ever closer to those who have sworn to see Claire dead.

Excerpt

     Blood will flow.
     Claire pressed her fingertips into her forehead and ran them up into her hairline before dropping her hand to the table and tossing her hair over her shoulders in an attempt to clear her head. She hated thoughts like that, the ones that came when she was alone, the ones that almost felt like memories. Why would she think such things? If she was honest, she’d admit they scared her. But she didn’t feel like being honest. 
     Her right foot twitched up and down. She uncrossed her legs and pressed both feet into the ground to keep still. The bones of her spine dug into the hard slats of the cafe chair and she shifted as she closed her eyes and took a drink, allowing the aroma of warm coffee and cardboard to surround her, to remind her that this was just another day and she was just any other girl in any other cafe. 
     The couple at the table next to her looked out the window and up to the third floor of the tall building across the street. They smiled and pointed at the ballet dancers swathed in multi-colored warm ups oblivious to the pedestrians who strode down the sidewalk below, a steady stream of black coats and heads down and feet hitting the pavement with purpose.
    Claire focused on the plastic lid of her coffee. She flicked its thin edge with her fingernail, the tiny snick of sound kept time with the bouncing of her right knee until she realized she'd begun to fidget again. She leaned forward. The pressed wood of the table dug into her elbows.
     She let her gaze wander out the window. The faded gray sidewalk matched the faded gray afternoon sky and it all suited her just fine. She checked the time out of habit. She had nowhere to be.
     ...rocks clattered under her feet as gnarled hands clamped down on her wrists…
     ...a drop of water landed upon stone, the sound echoed and reverberated…
     ...It’s all off track. All gone wrong. She’ll kill me if she finds me….
     Butterflies somersaulted in her belly and she interlaced her fingers, locking them together, and pressed her hands to her mouth in a tight fist. The bells over the door jangled and Claire shook her head, trying to shake free of the thoughts and images that echoed and distorted like faded memories. 
     They mean nothing. They’re not you. You’re not in danger. Lately, those three sentences were on repeat in her mind, a mantra of reassurance. Glad for the distraction, she turned to see who had come through the doors and froze, certain she’d seen him before. He scanned the empty cafe. His electric blue eyes passed over her, not seeing her so much as that she occupied a chair. 

     I know him.





After her career as a ballerina was cut short by a debilitating ankle injury, R. M. Webb moved back to her hometown in Ohio and started teaching dance and raising a family.  With her own dancing no longer taking up all of her time and dedication, the desire to write, one she'd had all throughout her childhood, resurfaced.  In between chasing after children and planning classes, she managed to get words on the page here and there and in the cracks of her days.  After meeting the love of her life, a man who fully supported her desire to write, R. M. Webb was able to finish the book that had been begging her to write it for most of her life.  



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