Let me tell you about a PHENOMENAL book that I recently finished reading, this incredible, unexpected, gripping story that owned me cover to cover. It is so different from everything I have read so far, so utterly mesmerising and unique that I have no doubt whatsoever that it will rock everyone’s world once it is unleashed onto our eReaders. Nocte is the story of Calla Price, an eighteeen-year-old girl who suffers a great loss in her young life, and is forced to cope with that trauma, as well as having to deal with the reality that her twin brother, her other half, her best friend, is mentally unstable and constantly on edge. Calla falls in love with Dare, a handsome but mysterious young man, and it is that very love that pulls her away from the tentacles of her own grief. But… that is just the skeleton of the story. The real story is SOOOOO much more complex, and you won’t know what hit you once all the pieces fall into place. An absolute must-read, a top recommendation from me, and while it comes out on 3 November, you can pre-order it already!!! Nocte is the first book in a trilogy, but it leaves you in a happy-for-now place, hungry for more, but content with what you know so far. It is also a story that couldn’t have been told in one book because of its many stunning layers, and I for one am dying for more, but very happy to wait a little while I put my poor heart back together…
Today, I get to share with you one of the scenes from this book that stayed with me the most, a moment in the story that stole my breath away, and then left me heartbroken once it all came together in the end. It is a passage that showcases the intensity of this amazing story, the depth of emotion, and the mystery of it all. So, sit back and enjoy, and prepare yourselves for a ride like no other once the book is released! ♥
SAVE ME AND I’LL SAVE YOU….
My name is Calla Price. I’m eighteen years old, and I’m one half of a whole.
My other half– my twin brother, my Finn– is crazy.
I love him. More than life, more than anything. And even though I’m terrified he’ll suck me down with him, no one can save him but me.
I’m doing all I can to stay afloat in a sea of insanity, but I’m drowning more and more each day. So I reach out for a lifeline.
He’s my savior and my anti-Christ. His arms are where I feel safe, where I’m afraid, where I belong, where I’m lost. He will heal me, break me, love me and hate me.
He has the power to destroy me.
Maybe that’s ok. Because I can’t seem to save Finn and love Dare without everyone getting hurt.
Why? Because of a secret.
A secret I’m so busy trying to figure out, that I never see it coming.
You won’t either.
“What the hell?” Finn mutters, staring ahead of us, past the trail, past the treescape, and into the clearing behind the Carriage House. I follow his gaze and almost audibly gasp when I see Dare.
He’s back from town now, and dressed in workout clothes, shorts and a cut off ratty t-shirt. He’s repeatedly punching the side of the woodshed.
Over and over and over.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Like a machete or a thresher or a piston.
Sweat drips down his face, and blood drops from his hand, as he pummels the wood, punching at it like a machine.
“What the hell,” I echo Finn’s sentiment, before I shove the crab bucket into his hands and take off up the trail to get to Dare. Finn protests from behind me, but I don’t stop and I don’t slow down.
I skid to a stop next to Dare, pulling at his elbow. He smells like sweat, so I can’t imagine how long he’s been out here, hurting himself.
“Dare, stop,” I tell him. “You’re bleeding.”
He shakes my hand off, not looking at me, and punches again.
Blood splatters the ground and onto my bare foot.
“Dare.” My voice is stiffer now, like ice, and finally he stops, his arm dangling at his side. He doesn’t look at me, but his breaths are coming in pants. I wait, and eventually the pants slow down to shallow, even breaths.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him. “Why are you…. what’s wrong?”
He’s silent. Finally, he rocks back on his heels, and sinks to the ground, to his knees.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he finally tells me, his voice like wood.
“Nothing?” I find that hard to believe. “Then why are you breaking your hands?”
I kneel down in front of him, lifting his hands to examine them. The knuckles are beyond scraped, beyond cut. They’re mashed. A bloody pulp, actually. “I think you might’ve actually broken them.”
He yanks them away. “I didn’t.”
I eye him warily. If there’s one thing I’ve gotten good at, it’s sorting through crazy situations. “Can I help you clean them up?”
I hold my breath until he climbs to his feet.
“I’ve got it.” His voice is curt and dismissive, and he turns to walk away. What the hell? Where is the guy who has been so engaging? So charming? He’s apparently been replaced by this cold stranger who has an affinity for hurting himself.
I grab his elbow. Out of my periphery, I notice Finn standing in the distance, watching. Waiting.
“It’s ok,” I call to my brother. “You don’t have to wait.”
Finn shakes his head, but so do I. “Go on,” I call out. “I’ll be up shortly.”
Reluctantly, he walks away with the crabs and Dare looks at me.
“You don’t need to stay. I don’t need help.”
“Yes, you do,” I argue. “You just don’t realize it.”
“And you do?”
Dare stares down at me, his eyes chilly. “No, you don’t. Because as you so clearly pointed out, you don’t know me. You can let go of my elbow now.”
My fingers slip away, confused by his iciness, by his words, but he still follows me into the Carriage House and into his little kitchen.
As we go, I can’t help but notice how neat he keeps the little home. The bed is made, the counters are wiped off, there are no dirty clothes piled on the floor. Impressive for a young single guy.
I turn the water on and let it run, waiting until it gets warm before I hold his hands beneath it. He sucks in his breath but doesn’t say anything. I grab a clean dish-towel and wrap his hands in it, and he leans against the counter. As he does, the shirt at his waistband lifts a bit, exposing a flat ribbon of his belly.
The skin looks soft as velvet, although the muscle looks hard as steel. I itch to run my finger along it, to touch it and find out.
But of course, I don’t because it’s not exactly socially acceptable.
“Why are you upset?” I ask instead, as I open his freezer. I pull out some ice, and dump it into two baggies, one for each hand.
Dare doesn’t open his eyes.
It’s a statement, not a question.
I push him into a kitchen chair, and hold the ice onto his hands.
He opens his eyes finally. “Do you know what it’s like to not be able to change something?”
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