Welcome to the blog tour for The Mephisto Mark by Trinity Faegen! Today, I'm sharing a fabulous excerpt from this book. Check it out!
The Mephisto Mark by Trinity Faegen
Book Three of The Mephisto Covenant series
Publisher: Pink Publishing, LLC
Publication Date: September 24, 2013
Official Summary:
Orphaned at six and sent to live with abusive relatives in Bucharest, Mariah learned early in life to box up violent, agonizing memories and put them in permanent mental storage. Now almost nineteen, she has a paying job, a tiny apartment, and a plan to attend university. She loves her independence and is steadily overcoming her past, but when an enigmatic stranger walks into the pub where she works and the trajectory of her life changes yet again, she begins to wonder if she’ll run out of mental shelf space.
The only females unafraid of the Mephisto brothers are the extremely rare Anabo, born without Original Sin. Over one hundred years ago, Phoenix was first to find one, but he made a fatal mistake and she was murdered by his oldest brother and enemy, Eryx. Phoenix soldiered through the next century wrapped up in grief and guilt, his only outlet planning takedowns of those who pledged their souls to Eryx. When one of his brothers brings Mariah to Mephisto Mountain, he’s torn between his instinctive, powerful need to pursue her, and his certainty that he can never have her.
Drawn into the world of the Mephisto, Mariah sees the pain and misery Eryx unleashes on humanity, and the boxes in her mind begin to fly open, one by one. All that keeps her from slipping off the edge is her unlikely, sexually charged friendship with Phoenix. He’s incredibly screwed up; she’s completely broken. It would take a miracle for them to find happiness. Then Eryx brings the war for Hell to a whole new level, forcing Mariah and Phoenix to make a choice that will bind them together for all eternity, or rip them apart forever.
About the Author:
Author of the RITA winning Pink Files series, Stephanie Feagan has had a love affair with romance novels since she was eleven and discovered there are kissing scenes in Victoria Holt books. She spent a lot of time in her closet with a flashlight, reading as fast as possible to get to the end, only to start a new book and begin the whole Leave-Me-Alone-I’m-Reading cycle all over again. She still stays up until the wee hours to finish books, now courtesy of a lighted e-reader which she believes is mankind’s greatest invention ever.
Stephanie also writes Young Adult and New Adult paranormal romance as Trinity Faegen. A practicing CPA who loves travel, books, new pencils, old keys, and smart guys, she lives in the oilfields of west Texas with her engineer husband and a mean cat. She’d love to hear from you. She answers to Stephanie, Trinity, Hey Lady, and Mom, and can be reached at Stephanie@StephanieFeagan.com or Trinity@TrinityFaegen.com
She’s aware the similarity between her pseudonym, Faegen, and her real name, Feagan, confuses pretty much everyone, herself included. Since so many mispronounce Feagan as FEEgan instead of FAYgan, she thought she’d mix it up when she took a pseudonym and make it easier on people. Now people say FayEEgen, and spell it wrong. Next time she takes a pen name, she’s totally going with Smith or Jones.
The Excerpt:
As soon as I opened the door and stepped inside my very tiny apartment, Olga wound between my legs, meowing her greeting. I picked her up and turned, about to introduce her to Kyros when he reached for my arm. Before I could pull away or tell him to back off, everything went dark and the floor disappeared.
I sucked in a harsh breath, too stunned to scream.
Seconds later, my feet were once again on solid ground and light returned. Except I was no longer in my apartment.
Where was I? How had he brought me here? Confused and angry, I clutched Olga against my chest and stepped back from Kyros. “Holy God, what just happened?” I dashed a look around what appeared to be a circular grand hall. Very grand. My brain registered rosewood and gilt, life-size portraits, and a vast expanse of white marble decorated with an ornate inlaid onyx M, where I now stood. To my left was a grand staircase, to the right, a gigantic door. A domed ceiling soared three floors above me, painted with angels and clouds.
Kyros was about to say something, but a deep voice from above distracted him. I knew very little English, but I understood two words I’d read in a badly translated Dickens novel: Yorkshire and heather.
Then a girl spoke and I understood nothing of what she said.
A couple appeared at the top of the stairs. They caught sight of me and instantly stopped moving, staring at me with shocked expressions. She was blond and beautiful, tall and graceful, and there was something different about her that I noticed immediately. All around her, the atmosphere seemed a tiny bit brighter. It was astonishing and I wondered what would make her body do that. Where was this place? Fairyland? Maybe I’d been hit on the head and was dreaming this. Or maybe I was struck by a car and was now dead on the street, and my spirit was on the other side. But, no, that couldn't be. No way a girl like that would be in Hell.
By contrast, the guy next to her looked exactly as I imagined a guy from Hell. His eyes were black as midnight and he had a ferocious scowl. He was tall and broad with dark features very similar to Kyros’s. His brother. This had to be his brother. Was Miss Glowlight his sister? Or was she attached to the brother?
Did I care? Not really. I wanted to be taken home. I had to work two shifts tomorrow and I needed sleep. And food. I also needed to wash out my pants so I could wear them again. I only had the one pair, and a pair of jeans, but Gustav didn't like me to wear jeans at work. I had a lot to do, and being brought to this freaky place in the middle of the night was not on the list.
The girl asked Kyros a question in English, her voice communicating a note of wonder. I caught “Jordan’s sister,” but didn't understand anything else. She continued talking and asking questions as she hurried down the stairs toward me.
Her companion, Sir Frownsalot, stayed on the top step, completely still.
She said something to me, and all I caught was the name, Sasha. Then she turned to Kyros with a brilliant smile and exclaimed in an excited voice. I imagined she said something like, “We need an exhausted barmaid with a cat! How clever of you to bring her!”
Looking skeptical, Kyros jerked his gaze to me and said in Romanian, “I don’t think so, Sasha. She’s exceptional, but not Anabo.”
Of course I wasn't Anabo. I was Romanian. And furious. Olga meowed in protest when I squeezed her too tightly.
Smiling at me, the blond rattled off more meaningless words.
Equally bewildered and irritated, I said, “I don’t speak English.”
She nodded and said in Romanian, “I’m Sasha. Poor thing, you look scared to death. Please don’t be. You’re safe here.”
My definition of safe and hers were miles apart. I said to Kyros, “Please take me home.”
“I know this is confusing,” he said, “but no one’s going to hurt you, I swear it.”
Getting hurt wasn't the issue. I didn't feel threatened. But I’d been brought here against my will. I was in a weird place with strangers – and no one asked. I didn't get the chance to say no. Old anger surged and I clasped Olga tighter, forcing it back in the box. Anger never helped. It brought more pain. Always.
Kyros asked the guy at the top of the stairs, “Can you see it, Phoenix?”
See what?
His expression had changed from anger to disbelief. He was staring hard at me, as if he was powerless to look away. “No, but I can feel . . . I can . . .” His voice was low and rough.
Spellbound by his black eyes, I forgot to be upset about Kyros bringing me here against my will. I lost the thread of wondering how he’d done it. The beautiful girl faded, along with the exquisite grand hall and every conscious thought but one: The guy named Phoenix despised me. His loathing slid down the wide staircase to wrap around me, making my breath catch, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't not stare back. I couldn't stop the shiver in my belly. And I couldn't fathom why someone I’d never seen before would hate me this much.
I sucked in a harsh breath, too stunned to scream.
Seconds later, my feet were once again on solid ground and light returned. Except I was no longer in my apartment.
Where was I? How had he brought me here? Confused and angry, I clutched Olga against my chest and stepped back from Kyros. “Holy God, what just happened?” I dashed a look around what appeared to be a circular grand hall. Very grand. My brain registered rosewood and gilt, life-size portraits, and a vast expanse of white marble decorated with an ornate inlaid onyx M, where I now stood. To my left was a grand staircase, to the right, a gigantic door. A domed ceiling soared three floors above me, painted with angels and clouds.
Kyros was about to say something, but a deep voice from above distracted him. I knew very little English, but I understood two words I’d read in a badly translated Dickens novel: Yorkshire and heather.
Then a girl spoke and I understood nothing of what she said.
A couple appeared at the top of the stairs. They caught sight of me and instantly stopped moving, staring at me with shocked expressions. She was blond and beautiful, tall and graceful, and there was something different about her that I noticed immediately. All around her, the atmosphere seemed a tiny bit brighter. It was astonishing and I wondered what would make her body do that. Where was this place? Fairyland? Maybe I’d been hit on the head and was dreaming this. Or maybe I was struck by a car and was now dead on the street, and my spirit was on the other side. But, no, that couldn't be. No way a girl like that would be in Hell.
By contrast, the guy next to her looked exactly as I imagined a guy from Hell. His eyes were black as midnight and he had a ferocious scowl. He was tall and broad with dark features very similar to Kyros’s. His brother. This had to be his brother. Was Miss Glowlight his sister? Or was she attached to the brother?
Did I care? Not really. I wanted to be taken home. I had to work two shifts tomorrow and I needed sleep. And food. I also needed to wash out my pants so I could wear them again. I only had the one pair, and a pair of jeans, but Gustav didn't like me to wear jeans at work. I had a lot to do, and being brought to this freaky place in the middle of the night was not on the list.
The girl asked Kyros a question in English, her voice communicating a note of wonder. I caught “Jordan’s sister,” but didn't understand anything else. She continued talking and asking questions as she hurried down the stairs toward me.
Her companion, Sir Frownsalot, stayed on the top step, completely still.
She said something to me, and all I caught was the name, Sasha. Then she turned to Kyros with a brilliant smile and exclaimed in an excited voice. I imagined she said something like, “We need an exhausted barmaid with a cat! How clever of you to bring her!”
Looking skeptical, Kyros jerked his gaze to me and said in Romanian, “I don’t think so, Sasha. She’s exceptional, but not Anabo.”
Of course I wasn't Anabo. I was Romanian. And furious. Olga meowed in protest when I squeezed her too tightly.
Smiling at me, the blond rattled off more meaningless words.
Equally bewildered and irritated, I said, “I don’t speak English.”
She nodded and said in Romanian, “I’m Sasha. Poor thing, you look scared to death. Please don’t be. You’re safe here.”
My definition of safe and hers were miles apart. I said to Kyros, “Please take me home.”
“I know this is confusing,” he said, “but no one’s going to hurt you, I swear it.”
Getting hurt wasn't the issue. I didn't feel threatened. But I’d been brought here against my will. I was in a weird place with strangers – and no one asked. I didn't get the chance to say no. Old anger surged and I clasped Olga tighter, forcing it back in the box. Anger never helped. It brought more pain. Always.
Kyros asked the guy at the top of the stairs, “Can you see it, Phoenix?”
See what?
His expression had changed from anger to disbelief. He was staring hard at me, as if he was powerless to look away. “No, but I can feel . . . I can . . .” His voice was low and rough.
Spellbound by his black eyes, I forgot to be upset about Kyros bringing me here against my will. I lost the thread of wondering how he’d done it. The beautiful girl faded, along with the exquisite grand hall and every conscious thought but one: The guy named Phoenix despised me. His loathing slid down the wide staircase to wrap around me, making my breath catch, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't not stare back. I couldn't stop the shiver in my belly. And I couldn't fathom why someone I’d never seen before would hate me this much.
The Giveaway:
Ooooh, I loved this book! I was so happy when I heard that she was selfpublishing to continue telling the story of ALL the brothers!!
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