Emily Reese's "Second Life" Blog Tour

Tour Stops

April 4, 2016
My Fiction Nook

April 5, 2016
Dani's Book Review Blog

April 6, 2016
 Romancing the Readers

April 7, 2016
 T&L Book Reviews

April 8, 2016
 BookwormBridgette's World

April 9, 2016
 Lampshade Reader

April 11, 2016
 Untamed Bibliophiles

April 12, 2016
 My Nook, Books & More

April 13, 2016
 Alpha Book Club

April 14, 2016
 Buffy's Ramblings

April 15, 2016
 Patricia W Fischer

April 17, 2016
Talk Supe

April 18, 2016
  Pure Textuality

April 19, 2016
 books are love

April 20, 2016
 Share My Destiny

April 21, 2016
 Queen of All She Reads

April 22, 2016
Black Words-White Pages

April 23, 2016
 Readaholics Annonymous

Second Life
(The Second Series, Bk #2)
By Emily Reese

Blurb: 
She thought her trials were over...

When she ended the Second Life of the serial killer turned vampire responsible for her own transformation, Claire assumed she’d be able to move on with her life. The “man” was a literal monster, and the world would be better off without him.

If only the rest of her world shared that opinion.

With the help of new allies Claire must race against the clock to prove her acts justifiable… or risk following her tormentor to the grave. And as for Mike, whose rescue was the catalyst for her current troubles, what kind of life will he awaken to? And will he ever forgive her for her actions that night?

In the thrilling sequel to Second Death, the story of Claire Wallace and Mike Monroe continues to unfold, immersing readers in the complex and often brutal world of the supernatural. A world that exists all around us.

Available for purchase at 

   

Excerpts

It had never been my intention to become a nighttime avenger for victims of sexual assault, but it certainly seemed to be turning out that way. I jumped down from the roof and landed behind Creepy Guy; the two men were so focused on each other, I had to speak to get their attention.

“Hey boys,” I said and cocked my hip out to the right. “Everything going okay?”

Creepy shot me a glare over his shoulder. “None of your business, bitch. Me and this queer are having some words. Leave, or your next.” He wasn’t even scared, just pissed that now I was going to cause him to rush things. I'm going enjoy my meal tonight.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I had in mind. You mind if I go first, kid?” I looked around my victim to the petrified boy; he was so scared he couldn’t even nod. All I was getting from him was: Help. Help. Help. Please help. I don’t want to die. I just want to go home. This isn’t happening. Oh, God, help me. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I opened my arms and said, “Okay, asshole. Show me what you’ve got.”

Turns out what said asshole had was a lot of rage. Rage at the boy for being beautiful and gay, rage at himself for being attracted to men, rage at me for being a woman, baiting him, challenging his precious manhood while doing nothing for his libido, making him feel even more wrong. All of it hit me in a wave, the seething hate so hot my skin warmed. If he hadn’t been such a psycho, I might’ve felt sorry for him.

“You’re gonna hurt, bitch. I don’t like interruptions.” He charged me, leading with his knife, sure his bulk would help him in this fight. I couldn’t wait for him to get close enough to prove him wrong.

With my speed, it was as if he moved in slow motion. I grabbed his arm and brought it down over my knee, forcing him to drop his knife. Still gripping his arm, I spun into him and sent an elbow into his ample gut, causing him to double over and wheeze. A knee to the groin, (which seemed appropriate given the context,) had him on the ground, coughing and whimpering. I put him in a headlock and lifted him up, though, given my height, his feet were dragging. I was about to let my teeth out, when I realized the boy hadn’t moved. He was still up against the car, his mouth hanging open. Between nearly being killed and watching me take down an armed guy nearly double my size, the kid was more or less in shock. Instead of the normal flow of emotions I picked up from humans, all I got from him was static. Total disconnect.

“You should go, kid. You’ve seen enough tonight — you’re not going to like what comes next.”

The poor kid nodded slowly and began stumbling back toward the lights and the crowds. Just before he walked into the light, he turned. He looked to me as if he wanted to say something, but his voice wasn’t cooperating.

I nodded, and returned my attention to a recovering Creepy Guy. He began to struggle and pull at my arms around his neck.

“What… the… hell… are you?” he managed to gasp.

“I used to be just like that boy, with some dickhead just like you making my life a living hell. I survived. Then I killed him. What do you think that means for you?”

“Detective Martinez,” Mike said shaking the man’s hand carefully, fully aware too much pressure could crush it in an instant.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Monroe.” The police officer eyed Mike’s heavy jacket and the vampire standing to his left.

“This is my cousin, Rob. Rob, this is the detective investigating what happened back at my place.”

“Thank you for making the trip, Detective.” The Louisiana accent Ben assumed was flawless; Mike’s eyes darted to him, just to make sure it was still the same guy. “Robert Archer.”

“I wasn’t aware Mr. Monroe had any remaining family.” Mike felt the suspicion begin to build in the detective’s mind, but Ben stuck to the story they’d concocted.

“Distant cousins. Michael found me while searching for a lead on Meghan. I asked him to stay with me, as his home is…” a crime scene, went without saying. As planned, Ben squeezed Mike’s shoulder in a show of support; thanks to the jacket, the tingles Mike felt we no worse than icy hot on a sore muscle.

“And you’re located at?” Martinez began making notes on a small pad, pausing for Ben’s response.

“Here. This is my hotel.”

“Nice.” Looking around the luxurious lobby, he nodded appreciatively and put his notes away. “I’ll be quick, Mr. Monroe. We were able to isolate a face in the footage from that night. All in all, it’s pretty decent given what we’re working with.” Removing his phone from a pocket, Detective Martinez pulled up a picture and turned the phone out to Mike. “Do you recognize this woman, son?”

And that’s when the bottom dropped out.

The hair was longer, and the blood covering her face highlighted the madness barely contained behind blue irises. And yet Mike could’ve picked her out of a crowd in a pitch black room.

Meghan is alive.

The Second Series 

The Second Death
Book #1

Available for purchase at 

   

About The Author

Emily Reese graduated from the University of North Texas with a degree in Communication Studies, which makes it a little easier to write dialog… when her characters are cooperating. She lives out in the middle of nowhere with her husband, their two daughters, two cats, and a Pug. She loves smushed faced animals, the creative power of Junior Mints, the glory of naps, baking, video games (especially BioWare,) and the sound of her girls giggling together. Her works include Second Death, Second Life, and Servant of the Three coming September 2016.

You can find Emily at 

         

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