Exclusive Excerpt + Contest: Web of Memory by Tara Fox Hall

tfhall-pm-web-of-memory

tfhall-wall-of-memoryI am excited to welcome author Tara Fox Hall, who is celebrating the release of her fifteen Promise Me novel, Web of Memory.

Sarelle’s return to her loved ones brings a brief measure of solace, even as she mourns all that changed in her absence. Rene’s presence and Sar’s pact with Shaker add as much tension as comfort, as the delicate balance of Sar’s life threatens to collapse under the weight of all she endured as Michael’s prisoner. Determined to reclaim her life, Sar fights back, inadvertently sparking Danial’s memory as an unseen ancient enemy prepares to strike a fatal blow.

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Exclusive Excerpt: Web of Memory

I nodded. “Exactly, V. Don’t hoard the years you have like a pile of money. Years of living will mean nothing unless you spend them being happy, loving yourself and others.”

Devlin’s eyes met mine. “Listen to your mother. She said it all right there—”

“I’m still better because I’m Sar’s real daughter,” V said stubbornly. “And you’re my father, and everyone does what you tell them!”

I gave Devlin a meaningful look telling him to speak up. “It’s true I favor you, V,” Devlin said, hugging her tight. “I waited for you a long, long time. But that doesn’t make you better than Elle.”

“I’m a princess,” V said contemptuously. “Like Sharon is! And Elle’s a peasant!”

“I am a peasant then, too,” I said coolly. “I’m not vampire, V.”

“But you’re Dad’s Oathed One,” V said in a reassuring tone, taking my hand. “You’re a queen, I heard Samuel refer to you as one—”

Fucking Samuel, I was going to knee him in the balls the next time I saw him, for screwing V’s values up. Then I kicked myself, because if I’d spent more time talking to V about the stuff that mattered, things wouldn’t have got this bad.

“—and we’re all rich, and Elle’s not—” Venus went on.

“Being rich doesn’t make us better,” I interrupted, appalled. “All my clothes and Sharon’s are designer,” V said nastily. “Elle’s probably came from Wal-Mart.”

Okay, that was it. I got to my feet, and went up to V’s room, Devlin trailing me with V still in his arms. I looked around, and began pulling out clothes, checking labels, but I was at a loss. I’d never owned designer clothes in my life, so I didn’t know if these names were designer or not. These clothes were faded and worn out looking. Shouldn’t designer clothes be better made?

In a few moments, I was overwhelmed. By the pile on the floor, V owned about fifty pairs of jeans, and at least that many pairs of pants, and that was just from the smaller dresser. I hadn’t even gotten to the walk-in closet, the bigger dresser, or to her shoes.

“What are you doing?” Devlin said curiously.

I turned to face him. “V, you are saving out ten pairs of pants and jeans, and twenty tops. And the rest you are to fold up and we are donating them to charity.”

V looked at me aghast, and Devlin did too. “I bought them for her when you were gone,” Devlin said gruffly. “It wasn’t an easy time for her or me. Her love of clothes matches my own—”

“I understand that,” I said gently. “But no one, um…younger than twenty needs this many expensive clothes, especially not a young girl who is using them as a basis to look down on others. Besides, V and I will go shopping after we drop off the clothes and get her some new ones.”

V looked overjoyed, and began picking through the mess. And Devlin gave me a quizzical look that said he didn’t understand my reasoning, but he left to get some boxes, when I told him to trust me.

The next morning saw us dropping off close to ten boxes of clothes at a local church’s clothing bank. After we dropped them off, I took V across town to shop.

“Where are we going?” she said expectantly. “And don’t you dare say Wal-Mart, Mom!”

“It’s not Wal-Mart,” I said, giving her a smile, and she beamed at me.

She was horrified when I pulled up in front of the Salvation Army. “What are we doing here? This place is for poor people!”

“Clothes shopping,” I said self-righteously. “Now come on.” “I’m not going in!” she spat at me, her eyes turning red. “You can’t make me!”

“Suit yourself,” I said, flipping open my phone. “I’ll call Titus, and he can teleport you home. But if you don’t come in, and pick out a few things, you won’t be seeing or talking to or texting Sharon for the next week. Now what’s your decision?”

V looked at me, then looked away and didn’t move. But when I dialed the phone and began talking to Titus, she relented.
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Meet Tara Fox Hall!

Tara Fox Hall’s writing credits include nonfiction, erotica, horror, suspense, action-adventure, children’s stories, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal fantasy Lash series and the paranormal romantic drama Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice.

tara-fox-hallContact Info: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | GoodReads | Amazon

Want to purchase Tara’s novels?
Web of Memory
Fate’s Prison
Hope’s Return
Stalking You
The Tightening Spiral
Just Shadows
Tempest of Vengeance
The Oath
Eye of the Storm
A Quick Bite of Flesh : An Anthology of Zombie Flash Fiction
Propose To Me : A Romance Anthology
Second Chance For Love : A Romance Anthology

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About Jackie 3282 Articles
I am a 30-something SAHM with two adorable boys and a supportive husband who is very tolerant of my reading addiction. I love to read and easily go through about a dozen books a month – well I did before I had kids. Now, not so much. After my first son was born, I began to take my hobby of reviewing a little more serious and started Literary Escapism to help with my sanity. I love to discuss the fabulous novels I’ve read and meeting all the wonderful people in the book blogging community has been amazing.

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