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About the author:
Rebecca Main lives in a near constant state of travel, roaming the world with her husband to take in sights of great renown, people of different cultures, and eat until they can barely move. Quitting their respective jobs in early 2017 allowed both to focus on projects and passions that meant something to them personally. And so was born the Soulmark Series!
Growing up obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and Charmed may or may not have spurred her love of all things supernatural and paranormal. Rebecca later fell in love with storytelling thanks to many talented English teachers. Even though friends may call her weird and oddly adorable for her love of all things magical, supernatural, and paranormal it will always be the driving force for her writing.
What inspired you to write your book?
It began in the spring of 1997. The story of a girl destined to take on the forces of evil with the help of her Scooby Gang. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The stories and characters brought to life on the show are what kindled my imagination. Here was a world that lay directly next to my own, constantly skirting the edges of darkness, with all manner of creatures lurking within it. It drew me into the supernatural and paranormal world. It brought me into the epic folds of fantasy. It was my first inspiration, and it still inspires me today.
With so many stories accumulating in my head, the natural conclusion was to write them down. And so here I am. Forging my own world that lies hidden among us.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“Iron,” he tells me, smile slanting just enough to become patronizing, “and witches do not mix well.”
“I’m not a witch,” I whisper back, ensnared by his intense gaze.
“I’d beg to differ.”
Our glares collide in a standoff. Just as I prepare to defend my claim, he concedes, dropping his eyes to my wrists once more. His fingers quickly undo my binds, letting the belt fall to the forest floor with a soft thud. I groan in relief, eyes drifting shut in a semblance of peace as the ache in my bones begins to recede.
Manners ingrained in me long ago beg me to thank my captor, but common sense points out the obvious; my captor, will receive no thanks from me.
When his fingers languidly intertwine with my own, I buckle in shock and stare at him in astonishment. Words lost to his casual demeanor. The move is intentional, no doubt to stun me, and he takes advantage of my bewilderment slipping one steel banded arm around my waist and pressing against me. I suck in a harried breath.
“This might be…unpleasant for you.” He tells me, eyes half-mast as his gaze lays steadfast against my birthmark. “They say the sealing of a soulmark can be quite, intense. But what kind of pleasure doesn’t go without its own pain? Hmm?” He releases my hand to scorch a trail upwards and across my breast.
“Please,” my voice cracks pathetically as his fingers inch towards my birthmark. “You're wrong. It's just a birthmark.” My heart continues its erratic dance, but queerer still is the wild pulse now coming from my birthmark. “Don't!” But it’s too late.
The point of his middle finger brushes against the mark, and I am gasping; reeling; hurtling towards darkness—
And then everything is gone.