Check out Edge: A YA/NA Paranormal Collection - #Excerpts & #Giveaway

EDGE: A Young Adult/New Adult Paranormal Collection 

Publication: April 5, 2016
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Young Adult

Limited Edition Paranormal Boxed Set
20 New York Times, USA Today, and International Bestselling Authors.
20 of today’s most magical, sought-after titles.
Yours for only $0.99.
Twenty Edgy Young Adult & New Adult Paranormal Tales
Twenty of today’s favorite young adult and new adult authors have come together to bring you a collection packed with full-length, spellbinding reads sure to keep you keep you on the edge of your seat and up way past your bedtime!
But reader beware: These novels take everything to the edge–and not just the edge of your seat. With authors who aren’t afraid to push the boundaries, you get stories that take everything to limit, creating whimsical reads that teens can actually relate to and that adults can enjoy, too.

Save over $50! This set is only available at this price for a limited time, so scroll up and grab your copy before it’s gone!
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Excerpts :

The Culling :

Humans who ran got culled.
These rules had been hammered into Jet’s brain so frequently and so vehemently that to think them was like breathing. They whispered through her mind like a mantra, more of a prayer than even a reminder...a reassurance that if she followed the rules, she just might get out of this alive.
Then she saw the searchlight flicker to life.
Jet held her breath, watching it as a mouse watches the stalk of a cat from where it crouches in a hole. The shockingly bright beam seemed to follow a random path at first, rolling over the ground near where Jet had been walking. It paused in that general vicinity briefly, maybe to try and scare her, to flush her out. Jet exhaled only when the swath of white light moved on, glancing over nearby buildings and a metal drain cover before it searched the other side of the street with equal care, lingering under the eaves.
Then the sharp beam flickered directly towards her. It roamed the nearby walls, then abruptly fell to almost exactly where Jet stood, even as she inched away from the range of its glow.
Jet cursed.
They’d seen her. They were toying with her...looking at her with the heat sensors most likely. They’d been trying to get her to run by skirting near to her, but they’d known where she was all along. Which meant they were probably hunting, looking to bring someone in.
Either way, she had no choice, not once they had her in their searchlights.
Leaping to her feet, she ran, full out, down the alley.  


Seven roses contain the name of the day of rest. My favorite is Sunday Lemonade. Its pale pink blooms give off a scent of lazy summer nights visiting with friends. Just the opposite of the many Sabbaths I spend with my father. His Sundays smell like famine and pestilence.

Birds sang to announce the new day. Perhaps I could stay in bed a little longer. My eyelids fluttered and I rolled to my side, the crisp sheets scratching my skin. The cheap alarm clock glowed red in the darkness. 8:30. I had an hour until the apocalypse began. For a minute I debated staying in bed, replaying various kisses from my mystery savior, but I still needed to shower and plant myself on the couch before Father was ready to go. My stomach growled and I sighed. No food today. Sundays were days of fasting. My ankle-length nightgown twisted around my knees and I struggled to free my legs. My breath came in rapid bursts, the claustrophobia setting in. Consciously, I slowed my breath and untwisted my nightgown. If I ever escaped, I promised myself the first thing I would do is sleep naked.

I sat up and flicked on the cracked floral lamp that sat on my nightstand. My gaze settled on my dresser. Last night I left deep red Oklahoma Roses. Next to them sat a monster blueberry muffin and a banana. I was grateful, but flabbergasted that today of all days he knew to leave food with the flowers. Today, I wouldn’t be allowed to eat.

I scrambled to the dresser and inhaled the muffin and banana. Only when I was half way through did the thought occur to me that Father might notice the smell on my breath. I would have to take extra care brushing my teeth. Full and feeling that today might not be so awful after all, I set to the task of getting ready for church.
After my shower, I scrubbed my teeth and braided my hair. Guilt swam across my insides. This week, I disobeyed my parents, flipped off Dwayne, ate breakfast on the Sabbath and I was kissing a boy every night. If I confessed before the Master I would have a fingernail ripped out, my middle finger would be burned, I would have to drink a glass of scalding water, and I didn’t know what my punishment would be for kissing the boy. No one had ever committed that sin before or at least confessed to it.

Perhaps it was cowardly, but I didn’t want to bear the punishment. Perhaps given enough time, I’d just forget about it. As long as the Master never asked me, I wouldn’t have to confess. I tried once, to not confess, but one look into those evil red eyes and the words tumbled off my lips. I couldn’t help it


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