Showing posts with label Tamara Jerée. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tamara Jerée. Show all posts

Saturday, September 9, 2023

Book Blitz: The Fall That Save Us by Tamara Jerée

 

The Fall That Saved Us
Tamara Jerée
Publication date: September 5th 2023
Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Paranormal, Romance

Nephilim—humans with direct lines to the angels—are natural demon hunters. All nephilim, it seems, except Cassiel. The weakest among a family touched by archangels, she’s abandoned her angelic inheritance for a mundane life as a bookseller. But even in the noise of the city, she remains burdened by the strict tenets of her old life. And recently, something far more sinister haunts her.

Avitue is a succubus out for revenge—though she has little say in the matter. As part of the greater demons’ plan to ruin Cassiel’s family for slaying a duke of Hell, Avitue’s been sent to claim a particular nephilim soul, one she’s told will pose little challenge. It should be an easy seduction. Quick, fatal. But Avitue is surprised to find her own pain reflected in Cassiel, a nephilim deemed fallen by her own family’s standards.

By choosing trust, they reveal the lies that bind them, but as unwilling participants in an eternal war, trusting each other is the most dangerous thing they can do.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

I try not to speak to the angels, but sometimes, I still hear their songs—when my mind is empty in the white noise of the shower, when I clumsily bloody my hands with the kitchen knife, when I stir sugar into my tea. These incidental joys and pains and nothings are the only times in my new life when I’ve been able to cry, compelled to do so as if by divine command. Their words course through me like molten gold, precious and searing. The world flashes white, then settles anew, unchanged but briefly brighter. Here’s the proof that they still turn their eyes to me. I wonder whether they see a wayward child.

The first time I heard their voices, I’d regained consciousness on the cold cellar floor of my childhood home, my face tear damp. It’s not so incapacitating as that anymore, but neither familiarity nor my angelic inheritance can fully diminish an encounter with the divine. I’m still human despite what my mother would like to believe about us.

Their songs are louder today, more frequent, as if the angels, too, have been keeping count.

Today marks the third anniversary of my leaving. I don’t know what the angel song means on this day, whether the chorus is passing judgment or merely observing with me. They sang the night I left, bright and clear. I took it as a sign.

Three years ago, at midnight, when my sister Zuriel caught me descending the stairs of our family estate, I begged her one more time to come with me out into the world. It’d been our secret for months that I planned to leave, to live in the city among regular people. I’d needed to tell someone, and she was the only one I could tell. My truth turned our relationship tense. We tried to be each other’s shelter as we always had, but it couldn’t last when I was trying at every turn to convince her to leave while she tried to convince me to stay.

“We can survive this if we have each other,” she’d say to me—when she braided my hair, when we traced protective sigils into each other’s skin. We sparred harder at the end as if winning meant the loser would have no choice but to adopt our perspective. I knew that as long as she would fight with me, she would fight for me.

But on those stairs, she’d stared too long at our clasped hands, and I doubted her. I couldn’t breathe. Two stairs separated us, she above, framed by the darkened stained-glass window on the landing. I, below, looking up. A terrible look crossed her face, as if this final meeting was a test of her devotion.

I’d wanted her to say something about us. Instead, she invoked duty and legacy.

“Don’t be like Gabriel,” I said.

We rarely called her mother. To us, she has always been Gabriel. For some, she’s a beacon.

Our records of all the angels and their nephilim are inconsistent, but the one most thoroughly documented through history is Gabriel. For the generation before my mother’s, there was no Gabriel born, no nephilim namesake of the great archangel. The reappearance seemed a sign for some. Other archangels, too, had claimed nephilim in our family. We’d clearly been blessed. When I was young, pilgrimages to our home were common—and also how our mother spread her philosophy of denial and restraint as the way. She was a beacon, and I should’ve been grateful to be her daughter. Our Aunt Raphael might’ve become a black sheep, but in Gabriel’s eyes, my siblings could make up for her lack. Because of their namesakes, Michael and Zuriel were burdened with more expectations, but Zuriel internalized the pressure the most. And suffered from it the most.

My sister gave me a tight smile. “You’ll come back,” she said, withdrawing her hand from mine to weave a familiar blessing in the air. For good fortune and protection, the one we drew before a hunt we knew would be especially dangerous. She pushed its energy toward me, and it settled into my skin with a light shimmer.

I wanted to tell her she had it wrong. I wasn’t the one entering a dangerous world. It was a wasted blessing, and we didn’t waste blessings.

I wanted her to say she’d miss me. I wanted an affirmation that we’d made this life less terrible for each other.

She retreated silently up the stairs, and I fought to breathe in her absence. Alone on the dark stairs, my bag cutting an ache into my shoulder, I considered scrambling after her, making one last bid for us. Together. As we’d always been.

But that had never been the way our family handled emotion. Big displays were anathema to us. For the last time, I followed her stoic lead, this time away from her.


Author Bio:

Tamara Jerée (they/them) is a graduate of the Purdue University MFA Program and the Odyssey Writing Workshop. Their short stories have appeared in the Shirley Jackson Award-winning anthologies Unfettered Hexes: Queer Tales of Insatiable Darkness and Professor Charlatan Bardot’s Travel Anthology. Their poem “goddess in forced repose” in Uncanny Magazine was nominated for the inaugural Ignyte Award. They’ve worked as an indie bookseller and a writer in the video games industry. The Fall That Saved Us (out 9/5/2023) is their debut novel.

Website / Twitter / Instagram


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Excerpt Reveal: The Fall That Saved Us Tamara Jerée

The Fall That Saved Us
Tamara Jerée


Publication date: September 5th 2023
Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Paranormal, Romance


Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

I sleep with the dagger under my pillow, one hand on its hilt, the other on its sheath, ready to pull it free. She shouldn’t appear—she shouldn’t—but still I wait, trying to feign sleep. My entire body is tense with anticipation. Or at least, anticipation is what I’ve chosen to name it. To acknowledge anything else feels like sabotage.

Faint at first, the scent of smoke returns. I think all my anxious wanting has made me imagine it until heat and oppressive shadow follow. The circle blazes to life, but beneath the glow, the wards lie dormant. She’s here.

Am I so fallen that my light does nothing to repel the damned?

I tug the blade free, thrusting upward to bring its edge to bear against the form solidifying above me. Shadow melts from the figure like clearing fog until a woman materializes from its depths, her skin light brown and her hair a long spill of silky black ringlets. And those golden eyes. I know, when I meet them, that I’ve hesitated a beat too long.

“I’ve never been held at knifepoint while trying to seduce someone.” She leans into the edge of the blade as if it’s a silly flirtation. The silver gleams bright against her neck. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she says, suddenly all sincerity. “I should’ve properly introduced myself sooner.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I demand.

“I was sent to find you, watch you. When it was clear you weren’t a big scary angel with a thousand eyes, I thought maybe I could reveal I was here, let you decide how you wanted this to go.”

She leans closer, and I let her, keeping the blade steady at her throat but not pushing back. My training screams against this restraint. I remember what happened to Zuriel. I know the price of offering softness to a demon.

“You’re different than the ones I’ve heard stories about,” she says. “I could like you. As much as a demon could like a nephilim.”

I make myself press the blade into her neck, a warning. Against a human, it’d draw a trickle of blood. With a flick of my wrist, I could kill her body and send her soul back to Hell. A blessed blade alone can’t inflict a mortal wound, but it’s enough to banish a demon from the physical plane.

She’s unbothered by my threat, and I hate that we both know it’s not serious. Despite the heat that radiates from her, I shiver. She smells like the darkness after a candle’s been snuffed, like the close of a ritual, like dying light. I’ve never met a demon civil enough to talk to for any length of time, let alone one who wanted to flirt with me. I wonder whether this is always the form she takes or whether she’s chosen a body aligned with what I find attractive.

“I see what you want. Desire is my specialty, remember?” She says it without threat. “Can I touch you?” she asks.

That she asks for permission startles me. It’s not binding magic, not a trick, just a simple question. A demon’s never asked me such a gentle question before.

I manage to hold the unnatural intensity of her gaze. She lets me think, patient. I wonder whether succubi are like vampires, whether they need an innocent invitation, a welcome, before they can enact their violence. But her eyes hold the same open curiosity I feel, a hope that this meeting doesn’t have to play out the way we both know it should, that we can discard our roles—at least for now.

Against every instinct, I nod.

She reaches confidently for my free hand, heedless of the dagger, and sweeps her thumb over the skin of my inner wrist, pressing it into the bed. Her touch is feverishly warm, as if she’s recently emerged from hellfire.

“You deserve to feel good,” she says. “I can at least give you that. Make up for before.”

The dagger trembles in my grasp. Like the first night she spoke to me, she’s reined her aura in, its hunger defanged for now. I’m not under its influence, but I’m surprised to discover the truth in what she says, how much I want her.

Everything falls apart if I say yes, and I feel seconds away from ruin.

Her brow creases with concern. “I wouldn’t hurt you, but I understand. Of course it’s different for us,” she says, all lust and heat evaporating as if she’d merely been inhabiting a role. “But do me a favor.” She grasps my knife-wielding hand, and I let her also press it down into the bed. I’m pinned. She looms, and I’m hyperaware of my exposed chest and neck. “Take your pleasure if you want it,” she says, flashing a fanged yet unthreatening smile.

Then I blink, and the room is dark again, and the demon is gone.


Author Bio:

Tamara Jerée (they/them) is a graduate of the Purdue University MFA Program and the Odyssey Writing Workshop. Their short stories have appeared in the Shirley Jackson Award-winning anthologies Unfettered Hexes: Queer Tales of Insatiable Darkness and Professor Charlatan Bardot’s Travel Anthology. Their poem “goddess in forced repose” in Uncanny Magazine was nominated for the inaugural Ignyte Award. They’ve worked as an indie bookseller and a writer in the video games industry. The Fall That Saved Us (out 9/5/2023) is their debut novel.

Website / Twitter / Instagram


 

Thursday, July 27, 2023

Book Blitz: The Fall That Saved Us by Tamara Jerée

 

The Fall That Saved Us
Tamara Jerée
Publication date: September 5th 2023
Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Paranormal, Romance

Nephilim—humans with direct lines to the angels—are natural demon hunters. All nephilim, it seems, except Cassiel. The weakest among a family touched by archangels, she’s abandoned her angelic inheritance for a mundane life as a bookseller. But even in the noise of the city, she remains burdened by the strict tenets of her old life. And recently, something far more sinister haunts her.

Avitue is a succubus out for revenge—though she has little say in the matter. As part of the greater demons’ plan to ruin Cassiel’s family for slaying a duke of Hell, Avitue’s been sent to claim a particular nephilim soul, one she’s told will pose little challenge. It should be an easy seduction. Quick, fatal. But Avitue is surprised to find her own pain reflected in Cassiel, a nephilim deemed fallen by her own family’s standards.

By choosing trust, they reveal the lies that bind them, but as unwilling participants in an eternal war, trusting each other is the most dangerous thing they can do.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble


Author Bio:

Tamara Jerée (they/them) is a graduate of the Purdue University MFA Program and the Odyssey Writing Workshop. Their short stories have appeared in the Shirley Jackson Award-winning anthologies Unfettered Hexes: Queer Tales of Insatiable Darkness and Professor Charlatan Bardot’s Travel Anthology. Their poem “goddess in forced repose” in Uncanny Magazine was nominated for the inaugural Ignyte Award. They’ve worked as an indie bookseller and a writer in the video games industry. The Fall That Saved Us (out 9/5/2023) is their debut novel.

Website / Twitter / Instagram


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