Series: Wasteland #2
Author: Lynn Rush
Age Group: New Adult
Genres: Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy
Elements: Angels, Demons
Publisher: Crescent Moon Press
Format: Electronic ARC
ISBN-13: 978-1937254216
Published: February 2012
Source: Bewitching Book Tours
Events: Book Tour
Rating: 4.5/5 STARS
Series Reviews: Wasteland
Purchase: Paperback
Russell Leonard is a centuries-old Guardian who’s lost faith in his purpose. So when he’s charged with procuring the first female Guardian in over two centuries, he can only hope it’s the red-headed beauty who’s been haunting his dreams for months. And if it is, he intends to claim her as his. But when he finds his dream woman, Annabelle is mute and bears no Guardian’s Mark.
He soon realizes she’s been tainted by an ancient evil. Russell must somehow release the secrets trapped within this delicate soul to help her tap into the only weapon powerful enough to silence a millennia-old demon—her voice.
Annabelle Slater is a 19-year-old mute heiress who was kidnapped and tortured by demons when she was a young girl. When she was freed, she came back different. Dark mood swings, violent outbursts, and disturbing artwork were among the changes Annabelle came back with. Most disturbing is that when these things happen, Annabelle's eyes go completely black, like a demon's. One of Annabelle's vision-paintings was of Russell that she had done six years earlier.
In Awaited, we see the soul-weariness of a centuries-old warrior who has lost his faith in his mission. But when Russell meets the woman of his dreams in person, he feels reawakened. There is a lot of talk in this book about how love is the most powerful thing in the world and we really see how love does give someone a strength they never had before.
Awaited is a much darker sequel to Wasteland, where faith is lost and sometimes love isn't enough. The demons are doing experiments to gain back the power the lost when the Guardians got David. But even with everything seemingly falling apart and being destroyed, there is an air of hopefulness as the story progresses.
With surprise revelations, steamy but sweet romance, and heart-stopping action, Lynn Rush brings us a world where darkness may abound, but love and Light are an unbeatable power. I have a feeling that the next and final book in the Wasteland Trilogy will be Jessica and Durk's story...something to look forward to!
My feet finally found the water’s floor. I tugged the female from Durk’s grasp and hoisted her up into my arms.
The water had washed away the crimson stains, but left her lips thin and blue. Durk pressed his fingers to her neck. “No pulse.”
“Go. Find wood dry enough to burn. We need fire. I’ll start CPR.”
He bolted to his feet and darted away. I settled her on the damp foliage covered floor and ripped her buttoned blouse apart. I rested my ear to her chest. Nothing. Cheek to her mouth. Nothing.
I clamped my hands together and started counting out compressions. “Please. You can’t die. I just found you.”
Her chest caved beneath my weight with each push I offered to start her heart. Pumping it for her. She looked so cold. So small. So fragile. Darkness tainted her lips. I imagined they’d be full and bright red like in my dreams. Her glowing skin was now dull and lifeless.
Please. Michael.
There must have been a reason for me to be on this plane. This time. This date. This instance. Not to let me find someone I’d dreamt about, then to lose her.
I pinched her nose. With my other hand I cradled her neck and opened her mouth to mine. My lips formed a seal around hers, and I blew. Her chest raised. One more breath.
I turned my head, listening. Nothing.
I repeated it for another cycle. Durk returned holding an armful of branches. He ripped open his pack and pulled out a bag.
“Zip lock?”
“Jessica made an appearance at my room while packing.” He held it up. “I thought she’d lost her mind. Matches, magazine, and tiny foil blanket.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“Told me not to.”
Durk went to work on the fire as I finished the second round of compressions. I leaned down to breathe for her again and paused an inch before contact with her lips. “Please,” I whispered and sealed her mouth with mine.
I breathed into her, then turned and drew in a gulp of air and let it flow into her. A gentle scent of sandalwood and sugar wrapped around me. Coiled me in warmth. The woman flinched beneath me.
Then coughed.
I tilted her to the side and water spewed from her mouth. A tremor rocked her little body. The crackle of a flame, and the scent of burning leaves filled the air. “There you go. Get it out.” I patted her back.
She flopped back and her eyes opened wide.
The same honey irises I’d seen a hundred times in my dreams stared at me. “Can you hear me?”
The lids hung heavy over her dilated eyes, then slid shut.
“No. No. Stay with me.” I patted her shoulder.
Durk joined me, kneeling beside her on the other side. I pressed my finger to her neck.
“She’s got to be in shock. Freezing. Get that fire going.” I peeled my shirt over my head as I stood. “Find all you can to get a small shelter formed around the fire.” I ripped at the belt securing my soggy pants to me. “I’ll warm her up.”
Wasn’t exactly how I’d dreamed I would first lay with a woman, but I’d be damned if I was going to let her die.
She was mine.
The water had washed away the crimson stains, but left her lips thin and blue. Durk pressed his fingers to her neck. “No pulse.”
“Go. Find wood dry enough to burn. We need fire. I’ll start CPR.”
He bolted to his feet and darted away. I settled her on the damp foliage covered floor and ripped her buttoned blouse apart. I rested my ear to her chest. Nothing. Cheek to her mouth. Nothing.
I clamped my hands together and started counting out compressions. “Please. You can’t die. I just found you.”
Her chest caved beneath my weight with each push I offered to start her heart. Pumping it for her. She looked so cold. So small. So fragile. Darkness tainted her lips. I imagined they’d be full and bright red like in my dreams. Her glowing skin was now dull and lifeless.
Please. Michael.
There must have been a reason for me to be on this plane. This time. This date. This instance. Not to let me find someone I’d dreamt about, then to lose her.
I pinched her nose. With my other hand I cradled her neck and opened her mouth to mine. My lips formed a seal around hers, and I blew. Her chest raised. One more breath.
I turned my head, listening. Nothing.
I repeated it for another cycle. Durk returned holding an armful of branches. He ripped open his pack and pulled out a bag.
“Zip lock?”
“Jessica made an appearance at my room while packing.” He held it up. “I thought she’d lost her mind. Matches, magazine, and tiny foil blanket.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“Told me not to.”
Durk went to work on the fire as I finished the second round of compressions. I leaned down to breathe for her again and paused an inch before contact with her lips. “Please,” I whispered and sealed her mouth with mine.
I breathed into her, then turned and drew in a gulp of air and let it flow into her. A gentle scent of sandalwood and sugar wrapped around me. Coiled me in warmth. The woman flinched beneath me.
Then coughed.
I tilted her to the side and water spewed from her mouth. A tremor rocked her little body. The crackle of a flame, and the scent of burning leaves filled the air. “There you go. Get it out.” I patted her back.
She flopped back and her eyes opened wide.
The same honey irises I’d seen a hundred times in my dreams stared at me. “Can you hear me?”
The lids hung heavy over her dilated eyes, then slid shut.
“No. No. Stay with me.” I patted her shoulder.
Durk joined me, kneeling beside her on the other side. I pressed my finger to her neck.
“She’s got to be in shock. Freezing. Get that fire going.” I peeled my shirt over my head as I stood. “Find all you can to get a small shelter formed around the fire.” I ripped at the belt securing my soggy pants to me. “I’ll warm her up.”
Wasn’t exactly how I’d dreamed I would first lay with a woman, but I’d be damned if I was going to let her die.
She was mine.
Driven to write, Lynn Rush often sees her characters by closing her eyes watching their story unfold in her mind. Lynn Rush is a pen name that is a combination of two sources – Lynn, the first name of her mother-in-law, who passed away and Rush – since the author is a former inline speed skater and mountain biker. All of Rush’s books are dedicated to Lynn, her namesake.
Rush holds a degree in psychology from Southwest Minnesota State University and a master's degree from the University of Iowa. Originally from Minneapolis, Rush currently enjoys living in the Arizona sunshine by road biking nearly 100 miles per week with her husband of 15 years and jogging with her two loveable Shetland Sheep dogs.
Disclaimer: This review was originally posted in 2012 to my book blogs, Zodiac Book Reviews and A Bibliophiles Thoughts on Books.
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