Monday, August 1, 2022

Now On Tour Hunted – A Vampwitch Novel by Kathleen Harryman #PNR #ExclusiveExcerpt

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Hunted – A Vampwitch Novel
Book One
Kathleen Harryman

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: February 2021
ISBN: 978-1637603239
Word Count: 73988
Cover Artist: Kathleen Harryman

Tagline: Loving a werewolf is complicated. When everyone wants you dead, complicated is easy.

Book Description: 

Secrets can kill you…

For twenty-five years, Alice Quinn, believed she was human. That was until a fire demon killed her mother, and her father walked back into her life. As a vampire, being dead is not an acceptable reason for staying out of Alice’s life. 

Forced to accept her heritage and the dormant power she possesses as half-vampire and witch, Alice becomes submerged into a world of danger, where deadly forces threaten to strip away her humanity.

Stuck with a newfound family that doesn’t understand her. A ghost who doesn’t want to be dead, and a grumpy gnome, sent by her grandfather from Faerieland, to spy on her, life is more than challenging.

Alpha werewolf, Ethan Jefferies, has a choice, bring Alice back from the Ghost Plane or allow her to die. Ethan’s wolf has its own agenda, claiming Alice, he binds them together. But Alice wants more—she wants the man. 

Exclusive Excerpt from Chapter Nine

After five hours of tossing and turning, I give up on sleep. Throwing on my running gear, I wander into the kitchen, trainers in hand. Aunt Dot has a thing about shoes being worn in the house, and while she can’t see me, I abide to her strict rules. 

Westminster chimes sound from the grandfather clock, announcing the ridiculous time I’m up. Despondent, I shake my head.

Darkness adds to my misery, coating the house in eery silence. Roseley is a hub of noise and activity, where people congregate, plan and cogitate the dangers of life and their next strategy. At this hellish hour it is still and silent, yet to wake from slumber. 

Tiredness makes my limbs heavy, but my head is having none of it. Its constant churning preventing any chance of sleep.

Today I start my witch studies and my nerves have been jingling all night. Uncertainty is a hideous and demanding master, and I name it the source of my sleep deprivation.

The large patio doors have turned into mirrors. I squint at the dishevelled person staring back at me. She is a pathetic creature. Dark circles sit under my eyes, obscured for a moment as I raise the mug of camomile tea to my lips. It’s strange to look at the woman before me, and feel her sadness and apprehension, viewing her in the third person.

What advice would I give her? Stay calm and focused? Tell her she can do this? I’m not so sure she can. The enormity of what lays ahead of her, of me, prevents me from believing success can ever be ours. There’s so much I don’t know. How, in a few short days, can I be ready to face Aeden and MAMS?

Vampire abilities are easier to adjust to than a witch’s magic. They are a physical power. Speed, sound, smell. A witch relies on spells and knowledge and understanding herbs and their properties. It is laborious and boring and will emphasise my lack of skill and finesse. Something I am already aware of and doesn’t need further stressing.

The mug hits the granite worksurface with more force than intended. I need to run, to hear my trainers beat a path upon the earth, and for my heart to beat a fast and steady rhythm within my chest. To feel alive. 

I make my way into the orangery, ignoring the tiredness clinging to my legs and arms. It’s difficult preparing yourself to die. No matter what everyone keeps saying, that’s what I am about to do. 

A sigh escapes as I warm up. Arms above my head, I stretch, coming into a half-plank position. Hands falling to the ground, I kick back my right leg and lower down until the muscle pulls. I count to fifteen and transfer legs. My body wakes up as I go through my warm-up routine. Air fills my lungs and I breathe deep, breathing in positive energy, blowing out negative as my yoga teacher taught me.

Oblivion calls and my feet dance as I throw open the orangery doors. The soft tread of rabbits thumping across the field is like an earthquake banging against my eardrums. Dampness pours into my lungs, engulfing me in its scent. A smile lights my face and I leap towards the trees.

Amber eyes stare at me as I reach the woods.

“You want to play wolf?” I shout.

Fur flies at me. Large paws landing by my feet, the wolf twists his body about my legs. A cool nose presses against my hips as he tips back his head and howls, revealing razor-sharp teeth. I think he’s smiling.


His head bobs.

My fingers brush against his thick pelt. “Let’s play.”

Feet thundering across the grass, Ethan at my heels, we hit the woods. Branches snare my clothes, slowing me down. The wolf races ahead. A soft rumble echoes from him and I’m aware he’s laughing at me.

I jump over a fallen tree into a small clearing, gaining speed.

“Bet you thought you had me there, wolf,” I shout, catching him up.

He diverts around a tree and I’m in front. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Teeth glistening in the moonlight, he snarls at me. It’s my turn to laugh. I grab a low branch, using it to catapult myself forward. Paws beating on the earth, the wolf’s feet kicks up moss and dead leaves, as he runs.

For the first time since forever, I am free from the constant doubt that sits on my shoulder, nagging at me. There is nothing but the sensation of enjoyment and being one with moment and time. Air burns my lungs and my unbound hair flies around me. The wolf is gaining ground and I take a sharp turn over the small humpback bridge. Ethan’s wolf clears the water, his tongue hanging out from his jaw. We dash through the next cluster of trees as we double back, making our way towards Roseley.

The house comes into view and I command my legs to go faster, stretching them out and increasing my stride. Together we hit the patio, trainers and paws striking the concrete slabs as one. Our warm breath billows around us and we come to a stop.

I drop to my knees and throw my arms around the wolf at my side. If Ethan was in human form, I would never act this way.

But this is his wolf, not the man.

“Thanks, wolf.” His tongue comes out, licking at my cheek, making me laugh.

“If you’re lucky, I might even see about getting some sausages under the grill for when you get back,” I tell him.

The wolf lets out a howl.

“Yeah, I know ketchup, not brown sauce.” 

I watch him disappear back into the woods in search of a rabbit. Hoofing off my trainers, my heart’s rapid beat slows to a steadier rhythm. Warmth from the underfloor heating soaks into my damp feet as I make my way towards the stairs.

Aunt Dot’s voice echoes from the kitchen, and I turn, poking my head round the door frame.


She turns at the sound of my voice, a smile on her lips. “Hello dear.” 

It’s time for my witch studies to start.

“I went for a run with Ethan. It won’t take me long to get showered and changed.”

“Not to worry, dear.” 

On impulse, I walk over hugging her. “Thanks.”

My actions surprise her, and her eyes sparkle with tears as she wraps her arms around me, holding me tight 

“I’ll get your breakfast started while you freshen up.”

“Can we have sausages? I kind of promised Ethan.” She shakes her head at me, a smile still on her lips.

“You two are going to eat me out of house and home.”

I laugh at her as I make my way upstairs to change.

About the Author:

Kathleen Harryman is an award-winning storyteller and poet, living in historically rich city of York, North Yorkshire, England.

Kathleen was first published in 2015, a romantic suspense, The Other Side of the Looking Glass. Since then, she has developed a unique writing style, which readers enjoy, and is now a multi-published author of suspense, romantic suspense, psychological thrillers, historical romance, paranormal romance, and poetry.

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