Hemlock Veils
Author: Jennie Davenport
Release Date: November 25, 2014
Publisher: Swoon Romance
Summary from Goodreads:
When Elizabeth Ashton escapes her damaging city life and finds herself in the remote town of Hemlock Veils, Oregon, she is smitten by its quaint mystery; but the surrounding forest holds an enchantment she didn’t think existed, and worse, a most terrifying monster. The town claims it vicious and evil, but Elizabeth suspects something is amiss. Even with its enormous, hairy frame, gruesome claws, and knifelike teeth, the monster’s eyes speak to her: wolf-like and ringed with gold, yet holding an awareness that can only be human. That’s when Elizabeth knows she is the only one who can see the struggling soul trapped inside, the soul to which she is moved.
Secretly, Elizabeth befriends the beast at night, discovering there’s more to his story and that the rising of the sun transforms him into a human more complex than his beastly self. Elizabeth eventually learns that his curse is unlike any other and that a single murderous act is all that stands between him and his freedom. Though love is not enough to break his curse, it may be the only means by which the unimaginable can be done: sacrifice a beauty for the beast.
Elizabeth couldn’t swallow. Did she stand in one of the places her father used to speak of—a place where magic existed?
“It?” she asked Eustace. “What will be curious of visitors?”
“The beast, Ms. Ashton.” Eustace turned and pulled her along, but she hardly felt there at all. Since her time as a teen when she’d learned life handed out nothing but disappointments and responsibilities, she’d been skeptical of her father’s fairy tales. She was a realist. She knew them for what they were: children’s stories.
Yet here she was, almost thirty and more seasoned than most, and she couldn’t shake the chill in her spine. A beast? She had to have misunderstood.
He traveled fast, too fast, and she nearly tripped. Taking a deep breath, she ripped her arm from his
grasp and stopped. She could no longer see the high-way through the trees behind them, even when the wide beam of his spotlight shone behind her. He stared at her as though she was the crazy one. “What do you mean, Mr. Bathgate?” she said through shallow breaths. Her hood had fallen in their short journey and her hair was soaked through. “You mean an animal, right? Like a wolf?”
He chuckled, spitting to the side. “Would’ve said wolf if I meant wolf. Not that there aren’t wolves in these parts, but the monster keeps most those buggers away. It’s not the wolves you need to worry about. And the longer we stand around, the more vulnerable we become.”
She pulled her wrist away when he reached for it again. “Not another foot unless you tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You’re actually telling me you’ve never heard? I thought when you said you knew the area, you were from somewhere around here. But you’re not, are you, Ms. Ashton?”
“California. I know only what I’ve studied on maps.”
He straightened, eyeing her with a look she didn’t understand. Was he second-guessing his decision to help her?
“That explains it then. I should have known, since no local would wander alone on Mt. Hood Highway, not between Rhododendron and Government Camp.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Have you heard legends about these forests, Ms. Ashton?”
She recoiled. “Actually … ” Her tongue tripped over her words. “My father came here a lot, told me legends, but … they’re just legends, Mr. Bathgate.”
“Please. Eustace.”
“If you’re Eustace, I’m Beth.”
“How are legends born, Beth?” He lifted his brow, as though he knew her heart would sink at his word choice.
And it did. Legends are born from flecks of truth, her father used to say. But Eustace and her late father sharing the same philosophy didn’t make the philosophy any saner.
Though Jennie Davenport was raised throughout the Midwest, she now lives in the little desert mining town of Bagdad, Arizona, where six guys beg for her constant attention: a husband, three young, blond sons, a German shepherd with a name much mightier than his disposition (Zeus), and a black cat named Mouse. When she isn’t trying to run her home with as little casualties as possible, Jennie loves snuggling with her family, laughing with her friends, delving into brilliant entertainment of any vein, and playing outside. Despite the way being a writer is in her blood, and the wheels of her writerly mind are constantly turning, Jennie likes to think that in another life, she would have been a Broadway star. Or an American Idol finalist.
Jennie lives for the fall, and not just because of her adoration for the NFL (Go Broncos!). In her perfect world, she would have the springs, summers, and falls of Colorado, and the winters of Arizona—someplace where the climate and weather would allow her to go on a trail run all year round. But even though she prefers the pines and mountains, she is a devoted fan of all nature, from sandy beaches to woodsy cabins, and all are her greatest inspiration. She believes nature is one of the best healing remedies, with a magic all its own.
Jennie’s passion for writing is the way she survives, and is as vital to her sanity as oxygen, caffeine, food, and music. Even before she began writing it, well-told, original, and character-driven romance was always her weak spot. Add the paranormal or magical realism element and she may never make it back to reality.
Jennie’s passion for writing is the way she survives, and is as vital to her sanity as oxygen, caffeine, food, and music. Even before she began writing it, well-told, original, and character-driven romance was always her weak spot. Add the paranormal or magical realism element and she may never make it back to reality.
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