Thursday, September 26, 2013

Blog Tour Promo & Giveaway: The Lost Souls by Madeline Sheehan

The Lost Souls (The Holy Trinity Trilogy, #2.5)
By: Madeline Sheehan
Release Date: October 31st

The Lost Souls: A Holy Trinity Novel

(Holy Trinity 2.5)

Tahyra Petros tried desperately to save herself and her sister, and instead ended up forever changed.

Shandor Asenov battled with death, and lost.

Hockey Sava, in a valiant attempt at saving his friends, vanished.

Caroline Andrews lost her brother during a violent attempt at survival and was subsequently left alone in the hands of an unknown fate.

And, Marko Siwak disappeared in the middle of the night and was never heard from again.

These are the stories of their journeys lost in a world where devastation knows no boundaries, where enemies await them at every turn, and where heartache, loss, and death supersede happiness, peace, and love...and the destiny that awaits them.
"Not all those who wander are lost…
- J. R. R. Tolkien
What is fate? Or destiny?
Do we each have a predestined plan? A path to follow on our journey, mapped out long before us?
Does someone, something, somewhere, already know what hasn’t yet come to pass?Are words such as chance, fortune and luck, just words?Are we all just pawns in a game being played by a force of power, so much bigger than us, a force so great, so unfathomably paramount that we, as mere humans, simply do not have the ability to comprehend it?
What if the answer was yes?
What if every step we’ve taken, every choice, every mistake we’ve make, every success, every sad or happy moment in our lives, every person we’ve met, every feeling, every emotion we’d ever experienced, every single breath we’ve taken, our first and our last… 
What if every single moment of our lives was, is, will be --no matter who you are, poor or wealthy, famous, criminal, loved or hated – what if it was all an inevitability, a foreordination, utterly uncontrollable by us?
Would it still be worth it?
“You’re beautiful, Tayhra,” Shandor growled softly, releasing her hair to cup the side of her head and face.
Confused, she froze beneath him.

“The face of a goddess,” he said forcefully, “With the body of a whore. Fată, you’re a goddamn work of art.

Red eyes blinked up at him. Once, twice, three times.

“You’re the sort of beautiful a man doesn’t just want to fuck; you’re the kind a man wants to watch fall apart beneath him and know that it was him who broke her.”

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