The Genesis by K. L. Kerr Blog Tour/Giveaway

Welcome to my stop on The Genesis Blog Tour, Today K.L.Kerr is going to drop by and show us a super cool deleted scene from The Genesis but first I want to show you a bit about this book. I also have a giveaway for you one ebook of this title, no raffle this time just leave a comment on this post letting me know what you thought of the excerpt and or the deleted scene and thats it!!!!

Check it out!!!

 

 

The Genesis

Blood of Ages, Book One

K. L. Kerr

Genre:Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Penrefe Publications
ISBN: 0955984556
ASIN: B00999FXZ0
Number of pages: 314
Word Count: 100,000
Cover Artist: K. L. Kerr

Series Site       Amazon Kindle     

Amazon Print Amazon UK Kindle     Amazon UK Print

Book Description:

The vampires of Dayson city are preparing for war. Having lived in constant fear of the Archway Corporation for decades, desperation has forced them into action. Their solution is to bring the First vampire, Alistair, back from the dead, a warrior famed for eradicating entire armies in the name of his kind.

 

For fledgling vampire Catrina Malinka, the fabled return of some unknown deity falls low on her list of concerns. Between fending off strangers trying to kill her in her dreams and trying to rein in an uncontrollable power that no one else even understands let alone shares, Catrina is forced to fight her assumed role in the war against Archway, which threatens to send her down a path she doesn’t want to travel.

 

The first book in The Blood of Ages series, “The Genesis” is an urban fantasy about the inescapable nature of Fate and the corruption of power.
 

 About the Author:

Born and raised close to North York Moors, initial setting of American Werewolf in London, one might be excused for thinking K. L. Kerr's interests might lie with those furry beasts. But she has always preferred monsters of the fanged variety, having written the very first draft of her novel, The Genesis, aged sixteen. When not writing, Kerr can be found playing the MMORPG, World of Warcraft, or listening to music from video game soundtracks.

She still lives in the North of England, close to The Moors (keeping to the roads, naturally), with two cats who--like all cats--think they're people.

Her Links:

http://bloodofages.com

http://penrefe.com

http://twitter.com/penrefe

http://facebook.com/bloodofages

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6468895.K_L_Kerr

 

 Check out this amazing Excerpt and let me know what you think

Catrina paid little notice to where they were headed, since she was too enrapt in the swirl of streetlights sweeping by the window to listen in on Fox and Rose’s conversation. Her attention broke occasionally when Rose laughed, which she did often. If Fox were the lion, as she’d imagined on their first meeting, that made Rose the hyena.

The nights in Dayson were never truly dark, and the days—which she would only ever be able to recall from memory from now on—were never bright. Skies in varying shades of grey were all that overlooked their fair city, and any break in infinite varieties of rain constituted good weather. Even so, her new eyes could make out the crescent moon floating amongst an ocean of stars as Rose parked the car outside a bar that looked like countless other rundown brick buildings scattered in amongst those made of concrete.

The music pulsed harsh and raw through the open doors, thunderous beats to dance to for those gathered inside the low-ceilinged, dark rooms. Rose left them at the entrance, quickly swallowed up by the mass of bodies.

Catrina followed Fox into the smoky room and was hit by a smell so fierce that it threatened to floor her. Beyond that of sweaty bodies laced with grime and grease from their days of hard labours, the unmistakable scent of blood rose in the air. So much stronger than what she’d sensed from Maria, and in such a tightly packed space, it came inescapably with every breath, like honey-sweet liquid iron sliding down her throat.

The people were all oblivious. No, not all of them. A few stood out, their movements fluid, more calculated. As they slipped through the mass, she noticed the path being created by people was wide enough for them both. The hunger sent sudden, urgent impulses that left her fingers twitching. She barely managed to keep at Fox’s back on the way to the bar, as a mist descended across her vision. So many people and so much blood pumping through frail bodies that seemed barely able to hold it in. Her head ached with the deafening sound of a hundred hearts thumping in time with the pounding bass.

In a far corner, Fox introduced her to a man, his clothes were the same colour as his raven hair, half-blended into the shadows. He didn’t need a name. Fox simply referred to him as “the Moderator.” The Moderator regarded her with hazel eyes too small for his face, tiny glinting gems set in alabaster skin, which snatched her, and the hunger’s, interest from the room’s other occupants. He offered her a hand as though proposing they dance. When she turned to Fox for an answer, he just nodded and left them. With butterflies in her stomach, she accepted the Moderator’s thin hand and let him guide the way.

“This is your first time feeding?” he asked in a soft voice, whispering in her ear to be heard over the music. Painful in its simplicity, the question left her insides churning. She just about managed a nod. “The hunger will torment you until you give it what it needs.” When she winced, he gripped her hand tighter; the pressure alleviated some of the pain. While not an especially attractive man, the Moderator’s presence was all-consuming, and his iron grip and piercing eyes ensured attention stayed on him, before the hunger could release her into the pack of waiting bodies. “I understand your pain, child, but the hunger must be appeased. Despite what you may think, you are not the one in control anymore. The hunger is its own master and you its slave. You will succumb to it when it craves its fill, or else you will both perish. Succumb often, and in careful doses, and given enough time, you will be able to control it completely.”

“And until then…?”

A jester’s smile stretched across the Moderator’s face. “Until then, you will feed like the rest of us.”

As they reached the edge of the crowd, her guide gestured to a man swaying out of time with the music, pupils dilated like saucers and mouth open wide. So this shaggy-haired stallion riding what appeared to be a permanent high would take her vampiric virginity. And while the hunger urged her forwards at the very thought, she saw reason to pause and tightened her grip on the Moderator’s hand.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “The hunger will show the way. And do not concern yourself with our friend’s wellbeing. Observe the skin.” He gestured the man’s shoulder, where she saw scant silver lines tracing all the way up his neck. The thin vest fitted to his shapely, muscled form proudly displayed the scars. “He is a donor. You will find many of their kind in places such as these. I can assure you, he is more than willing.”

When the Moderator released her, the hunger led on. For the next minute, she was no longer Catrina Malinka. She was the hunger. She may have forced the man easily twice her size up against the wall, leaning into him and savouring the musky scent rising from perspiring flesh. If he struggled or resisted, she couldn’t remember. He may have moaned as her fangs sliced through her gums and into the vein. As blood gushed like liquid fire, she too may have moaned, closing her eyes and letting the moment consume her.

New thoughts overwhelmed her sense of reason with each mouthful of blood pumping out of the fissure in his neck, as though for an instant she saw the world through this man’s eyes; the image of their naked bodies tangled together on an unmade bed in what she could only assume was this man’s shoebox of an apartment flashed across her vision.

Spurred, it seemed, by the same thought, he slid a hand up her back, trying to force her closer. But despite his urgency, he had all the strength of tissue paper when put against her. While she revelled in his weakness, the hunger subsided into anger the likes of which she’d never known.

Her dark eyes flashed open and fingers slipped around his shoulder, feeling the top of his spine underneath the thin stretch of skin. One quick twist, and he would be dead. Before she could get her fingers around his neck, strong hands pulled her away, which severed both the lustful thoughts and the absolute desire to destroy him.

The man struggled to breathe as he ran shaking fingers over his neck, but a lazy smile curled his lips nonetheless.

“Our saliva heals the wounds,” the Moderator said as she stared at her first “victim” lurching back into the throng of bodies. “The scarring only occurs from continuously providing donor services, or in cases where the human has been attacked. Here, the donors are safe and aware of what happens to them. Feeding out there—” He gestured to the bar’s entrance. “Is difficult and delicate when you choose not to kill. There will be certain situations where your actions can be more easily dismissed if you choose to feed on someone who does not know what you are.” Such sobering words set her eyes back on the Moderator, who regarded her cautiously, concern stretching lines on his face. “Tell me truthfully,” he said. “How did it feel?”

Without a second thought, she replied, “I wanted to kill him.”

Now guys is time for that deleted scene I told you about check this out and dont forget about the giveaway I mentioned =D

The Genesis (Blood of Ages, #1)

Deleted Scene: The Safe House

 

(It shouldn't be much of a spoiler that Catrina becomes a vampire in "The Genesis". In the final edit of the book, her turning is experienced mostly in flashback, as it was believed the story flowed better that way. However, it did mean losing what I think is a charming little scene, which very briefly introduces Rose's character, as well as the nice interaction between Catrina and the safe house owner, and with Fox. Some of the characters are a little rough here, since the scene was never developed fully, and Catrina's claustrophobia wasn't introduced in this edit, hence why she was going to take the elevator, when now she wouldn't have taken it anyway.)

 

NB: Bonus scenes are provided purely for entertainment. While every care has been taken to ensure their readability, in many cases, such scenes are not professionally edited. As such, they may contain the occasional typo or two.

 

The address on the card was farther than she'd expected. She thought she knew the city like the back of her hand. As it happened, this neighbourhood was entirely unfamiliar. The third time she'd smacked the back of the driver's chair in impatience and asked if he couldn't go any faster, he had threatened to kick her out in the middle of nowhere. She considered using the Beretta to speed him up, but since most cab drivers were armed to the teeth, and she couldn't drive stick-shift, she relented.

Her watch said 20:04 by the time she threw herself out of the cab, leaving a fistful of notes for the driver to pick through. With her head too full of possibilities and what waited at her destination, she hadn't taken stock of the area until the cab was peeling away.

Sirens wailed from a few streets over. Out of habit, she felt for her gun before approaching the stone steps outside the building. She was surprised to see that the sleek, black Mercedes parked outside the house was unscratched, or that there was even one there at all. Thieves and vandals were surely not deterred by the pale, pixie-faced redhead leaning on the hood with a cigarette hanging loosely between her smiling lips.

The girl caught her eye as Catrina passed, nodded a passing acknowledgement before returning her attention to the phone in her hand.

The door at the top of the stairs was locked. While there were what appeared to be ten apartments in this building, none of them were labelled with names. Static burst from the intercom before she had a chance to start hitting random buttons. "Look into the camera."

"Hello?" she called back into the panel. "I'm here to see Fox."

"Look. Into. The camera," came the gruff reply.

When she squinted, she could just about make out a button-sized lens poking out from a darkened corner. She moved into its line of sight. The door buzzed open, and she pushed her way into complete darkness. Once the front door closed, another buzzing indicated the inner door unlocked, and she entered the building itself.

Disappointment swelled in her chest, assuming no government facility make such effort as to cover itself up as what appeared to be a very seedy apartment building. The whole place reeked of mould and mildew. Guided only by the knowledge that she was still armed, and that life without a little risk was not worth living, she approached the portly little man sitting behind what could laughably be called a front desk.

"You're late," he said without looking up from his newspaper.

"By four minutes," she protested, without knowing who she was even arguing with.

He checked the nearby clock. "Six minutes." He looked her over shamelessly, scratching the day-old stubble under his chin that was longer than any hair on his head.

"Getting a good look?" she challenged.

He rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb towards the end of the hall, returning his attention to the paper. "He's in nine. Third floor, on the left. Oh, and the elevator's broken," he called after her, just before she hit the button for it.

Three flights of stairs with a bag full of her worldly possessions was not her idea of a great start. To make matters worse, the room Fox gestured her into when she finally met him on the third floor, had same charm of the rest of the building. It was the kind of place people came to either have illicit sex or consider suicide, perhaps one after the other. Everything was bare; the walls weren't even painted, let alone papered, and the bed consisted of a bare mattress with pillows, but no sheets.

"You're late," he said as welcome, closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, I've been told." She dipped her head, catching her breath, and adding, "Sorry. This place is…" A dump. "Really something."

"It's a safe house. It doesn't have to be anything, so long as it serves its purpose." He kept an unusual distance, close to pinning himself against the door, while concern marred his featureless face. He must've noticed her laboured breathing, because he then asked, "Are you alright?"

She took another sharp intake of air and wondered if will alone could stop her heart from thundering in her ears. "Elevator's broken."

Fox frowned. "No, it isn't."

"That bastard," she muttered, cursing the man downstairs. She put the carry-all down. "Well, here I am. What happens now?"

"So you've decided?" His voice was strained, like the rest of his body language. She tried to smile at him; it went without a response and if anything he only appeared to be more agitated.

"I'm here, aren't I?" This was not the man she remembered from the previous night. Something had to be wrong. Maybe the opportunity had fallen through. "Now, not to sound ungrateful from the offset, but when I start, I won't be based…here, will I?" She looked at the boarded windows, the empty shell of a room inside a broken down building. "No offence, but this place is kind of a step down to what I already--" When she turned back, she came face-to-chest with him. He wasn't quite looking at her, focusing more on a spot over her shoulder. She tried to take a step back, but he followed, keeping no more than a handful of inches away.

And all at once her brilliant choice didn't seem quite so appealing. She was in a strange place, with a man whose unusual abilities were superseded only by his bi-polar behaviour.

Thankfully, she still had her gun. Fast though he might be, he would never outrun a bullet. She was already reaching for her weapon, before he spoke.

"You're going to make this so much harder than it has to be," he whispered as warning. "You have to trust me."

"The hell I do," she snapped. Like the calm before the storm, a few seconds passed in silence, with only the sound of their equally shallow breathing. She clicked the gun's safety with her thumb.

"Don't," he warned, the word coming out like a growl, and the brush of his breath making her whole body shudder. He pressed the balls of his hands against his temples, seething. Seeing the only opportunity she might ever have, she ducked under his arm and made a mad rush for the door.

His boots thundered on bare floorboards as he came after her. She got her hands around the door handle only to find it locked. As she tried to twist it, strong hands locked her arms around her chest, forcing the gun out of her grip. He dragged her, kicking and screaming, away from escape. She kicked her legs out trying in desperation to break the door down, but it only served to push her closer against his unyielding body.

That's when the needle went into her neck.

Any hope at stopping him died in the arms that remained locked by her chest. Her fleeting consciousness wondered how he could administer a lethal injection when both his arms were keeping hers pinned to her chest. She tried to open her eyes but saw nothing other than black spots marring a white canvas. Her own stupidity taunted her failing vision, at how easily she could have let herself be carried away by promises of greatness.

With her heart drumming in her chest, her final, desperate scream died in her throat, and her last shreds of consciousness slipped away, taking her life with it.

 

Downstairs, the bald man continued to turn the pages of his newspaper as the screams resonated through the building's very bricks, and outside the red-headed girl looked up to the third floor, idle curiosity reflecting in her all-black, soulless eyes.