GtPGKogPYT4p61R1biicqBXsUzo" /> Google+ Book Review: Traveller by Abigail Drake + Excerpt, Giveaway | I Smell Sheep

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Friday, March 18, 2016

Book Review: Traveller by Abigail Drake + Excerpt, Giveaway

by Abigail Drake
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
February 26, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-5092-0569-1 Paperback
ISBN: 978-1-5092-0570-7 Digital
Number of pages: 250
Word Count: 80,000
Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor
Former Junior Miss Kentucky Emerson Shaw won pageants using martial arts as her talent and Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War” as her guide, but a painful secret leads her to the University of York, and puts her in the path of tattooed and pierced bad boy, Michael Nightingale.

Michael is a Traveller, part of an ancient line of mercenary gypsies who protect the world from vicious monsters called the Moktar. When Emerson gets attacked, she has no choice but accept Michael’s offer of protection or face certain death.

Traveller society, full of outdated rules and ridiculous superstitions, isn’t a good fit for the headstrong Emerson. Traveller women aren’t allowed to fight. Traveller women aren’t allowed to win. Traveller women aren’t allowed to leave. But Emerson will do what she must, even if it means losing the one person who matters most. 

As a self proclaimed "cover whore", this title got me right in the ole sweet spot. My vampire heart. Hot smexy guy, uh yes please! Add some tattoos, baby blues and a sword...yea I'm sold. Though, truth be told, sometimes a cover can be the only good thing about a story, happily this was not the case! 

Traveller (No, it's not misspelled) is a warrior filled world of super powerful gypsy beings who set out to kick some monster booty and save us mere mortals. Cause, if this type of scenario does come true, we really will need a little help on team homosapien. Just saying. 

There's a good helping of comedic relief all throughout the story. While some may find it a tad too much laugh and giggle, I enjoyed the humor and snark a lot. 

I will say that the one down-side: at times the character dialogue does border on cheese overload. It's a little unrealistic to fall head over heels within a few days of knowing someone. Even for a made up PNR world, that's just not believable. I mean, vampires seem more realistic then falling for your soul mate after the first date! 

If you add up all the sums of this story, there's a lot here to enjoy. It's a tad young reader focused and not as "mature" in the sex department as I would have liked. BUT overall this is a good read that will keep you in the moment and turning the pages to see what's could possibly happen next!

 Getting 3 and 1/2 Sheep 


“Who are you and what do you want from me?”

I took a deep breath. It probably wouldn’t be a good start to tell him he occupied my every waking thought and most of my dreams, too. I decided to go with a more conventional approach.

“You’re here every morning, and I thought I’d say hello.” I stuck out my hand. “Emerson Jane Shaw.”

He surprised me by reaching for my extended hand and holding it firmly. His hand, large, warm and rough, had cuts and bruises all over the knuckles. He had faint bruises on his face, too, and some small wounds still in the process of healing. He’d been in some kind of fight recently.

It didn’t surprise me. He had the look of a warrior about him, the lean strength and watchful eyes of a predator, and he was lethal. Sun Tzu would have seen it, too. He would have recruited him without a moment’s hesitation.

“Michael Nightingale.” He stared at me with those hypnotic eyes as he continued to hold my hand, using it to pull me nearer to him.

“I know. Mrs. Burke told me.” I couldn’t focus on what I was saying while he touched me, not that I’d done such a great job up until now with my witty repartee.

He tilted his head to one side, studying me the way a lion studies a gazelle before he eats it. His face was only inches away from mine.

“Do you like to flirt with danger, Emerson Jane Shaw?”

“Not usually, but today I can make an exception.”

The touch of his hand sent an electric current through my body that made my heart speed up and my brain slow down. He was intoxicating. I almost had to fan myself.

Abruptly, Michael let go of me and stood up, shoving his books into his backpack. I stood up, too.

“What’s wrong?”

Michael glared at me, threw some bills on the table and stomped out of the shop. Like an idiot, I grabbed my backpack and followed him.

He walked quickly through The Shambles, dodging pedestrians and umbrellas with ease. I wasn’t quite as lucky. The rain poured down, filling the street with puddles. Michael wore combat boots and jeans. I had on a useless pair of flats and no jacket. It only took seconds for me to be soaked to the skin and miserable. In minutes, I looked like a little blonde drowned rat.

I’m pretty fast, even in slippery shoes, and I was motivated. I kept him in my sights until he reached a side street at the end of The Shambles that led down a narrow lane. I was only half a block away when he turned and looked at me, his eyes locking with mine, and disappeared.

He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t moved. He’d been there one second, and gone the next. Running as fast as I could, I reached the spot where I’d last seen him and looked down the lane and on either side of the street. My ribbon flew out of my hair, blowing away in the wind as I slid on the wet cobblestones and nearly fell. I skidded to a halt, realizing I hadn’t been fast enough. It was a dead end, and he was gone. 

About the Author:
Abigail Drake has spent her life traveling the world, and collecting stories wherever she visited. She majored in Japanese and International Economics in college and worked in import/export and as an ESL teacher before she committed herself full time to writing. She writes in several romance genres, and her books are quirky, light, fun, and sexy. Abigail is a trekkie, a book hoarder, the master of the Nespresso machine, a red wine addict, and the mother of three boys (probably the main reason for her red wine addiction). A puppy named Capone is the most recent addition to her family, and she blogs about him as a way of maintaining what little sanity she has left.

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