Tuesday, May 13, 2014

"Reflection of the Gods" by Lisa Llamrei

Reflection of the Gods
by Lisa Llamrei

Reflection of the Gods is currently on tour with Enchanted Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

Newly divorced Das MacDermott longs for a fresh start. As he packs up and prepares to move out of the city, he spots a young woman being held at gunpoint by three men. Despite being outnumbered and unarmed, Das does his best to intervene. Once liberated, the victim seems oddly ungrateful, but on an apparent whim decides to join Das in his new life in rural Ontario. Aislinn, as she is called, returns the favour; with her encouragement and support, his start-up photography business takes off, and more importantly, Das is saved from loneliness and self-doubt.
Das, however, is never quite able to fully dismiss the contrary aspects of Aislinn’s nature, and is strictly forbidden from asking about Aislinn’s past. All seems too good to be true, and indeed it is. Aislinn’s unusual talents and odd behaviour, unbeknownst to Das, come from her demigod status. Aislinn is half-Sidhe, daughter of Fionvarra, Ireland’s fairy king, and a human woman. Sidhe wars have so disrupted the mortal world that Aislinn has joined with other immortals in an effort to permanently separate it from Tir N’a Nog, the fairy realm.
Born in ancient Ireland, Aislinn spends millennia as the plaything of the cruel and narcissistic gods. The pain of being neither human nor Sidhe is offset by her relationship to the Fir Bolg, another race of fair folk who take pity on her lonely state; and the refuge she takes in being Das’s lover and protector. As Das comes to accept the possibility that Aislinn belongs to a supernatural world, he discovers that the two worlds are set to collide in a way that may mean the destruction of all humanity.

Book Trailer

After some time, I drifted off to sleep. It felt like no more than a few moments. Maybe it was longer. I awoke to a wailing screech. I sat up, wondering where I was. I clamped my hands over my ears. The door opened and a triangle of light flooded in from the hallway.
Uncle Patrick charged in, pointing a finger. “Stop that racket right now.”
Aunt Mary stood right behind him, pulling on an arm. She wore an old robe and had curlers in her hair. “It’s not the boy, Patrick.” She pushed her way past him and flicked on the light in my room. She sat down beside me and eased my hands away from my ears. “That won’t help, but this might.” She took the crucifix down from the wall above my bed and thrust it into my hands. “Pray. Pray like you’ve never prayed before.”
I stared at the crucifix in my hands and winced at the noise.
“Grania did teach you how to pray, didn’t she?”
I shook my head.
“Pray with me then. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”
I started mouthing the words. Again and again the wailing rose in a crescendo and stopped, like waves crashing on a rocky shore. As it rose, I covered my ears with my hands, but Aunt Mary continued, raising her own voice, “—mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. Hail Mary, full of grace—”
Waves of carrion smell wafted in time to the sound. My whole body shook, and I cried some more. Aunt Mary put her arms around me and held me close while she continued praying, “—and blessed be the fruit of thy womb—”
Uncle Patrick came into the room wearing his coat over his robe. “I’m going outside to find out what’s making that noise.” He left and came back, sniffing the air. “Must be a dead raccoon out there.”
As soon as the front door opened, wind rushed through the house, as if whatever it was had been waiting for its chance to enter. The wailing was now ear-splitting and the smell of rotting meat hung in droplets in the air. I could taste it on my tongue. Aunt Mary stopped praying and we both covered our ears. All the lights in the house buzzed and went out. Silence.
Aunt Mary’s breath was quick and shallow; the air, empty. She reached out for me again and held me, stroking my blond head.
Uncle Patrick returned. “I couldn’t find anything outside, but at least it stopped. What happened to the lights? The streetlights are still on outside.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay in here until Mohandas falls asleep again,” said Aunt Mary.
Uncle Patrick hesitated. “Well, sure, the little lad’s had quite a fright. You stay with him. I’m going back to bed. If the lights are still off in the morning, I’ll call the hydro.”
After Uncle Patrick left, Aunt Mary lay me down and tucked me in. “Try to get some sleep, little Das. Everything will work out in the end. You will be loved here.”

Featured Review
I loved the characters in this book. They are so believable and also feel so real while reading the book. Once I got past the initial what is happening, I could not put the book down and had to find out what was going to happen next!!

About the Author
Lisa Llamrei was born and raised in the Toronto area. She studied languages at York University. At various times, she has been an actor, professional belly dancer, holistic nutritionist, and entrepreneur. She currently lives north of Toronto with her family. Reflection of the Gods is her first novel.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win one of five signed copies of Reflection of the Gods by Lisa Llamrei.