Wormwood

by D.H. Nevins

(Wormwood, #1)
Publication date: October 10th 2011
Genres: Adult, Dystopian, Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult

Angels. Demons. Love. Deceit.
“Nevins should be at the top of the New York Times Best-sellers List with this series.” – Amazon Reviewer

Tiamat and his brothers, a legion of one hundred half-angels, have orders to end all of humanity. Yet in a moment of weakness, Tiamat risks his life to rescue a hiker named Kali from the very destruction he initiated.
Kali, thrust from the surety of her world into the boundless hell of Tiamat’s, must try to find a way to survive on the Earth’s vast, devastated landscape. Plagued by a legion of Nephilim bent on sending her on, she is forced to trust Tiamat – the one being who could prove to be her greatest enemy.

“OMG … Fabulous. Unputdownable. 5 stars” – Fundinmental Reviews

“A new kind of tormented romance that is absolutely captivating.” – Carlyle Lasbuchane, USA Today bestselling author

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MY REVIEW

The first chapter introduces you to Kali. She is a trail guide at Pinecrest National Park. A quiet hike up to her favorite spot, Lookout Peak, starts out normally enough, but a light breeze quickly becomes a tree snapping gale. The once clear skies have turned a heavy grey-black, the clouds tumbling over each other as they race towards her.

This would not be so bad if the woods had not suddenly gone silent. Not a sound could be heard. The winds had stopped and all was still. Not even a bird song was heard. Into this silence came a rumbling that turned into a roar. The ground began to vibrate under her feet and she could see something was coming. The trees started to shake and then to fall, the ground began to roll. Kali ran.

The earth twists and buckles as she tries to reach the safety of Lookout Peak.  Trees and shrubs reach out as if to grab her. She sees her goal and rushes forward. Stillness. All around her the earth is raging. Great rents appear, lava flows up from below, the skies open up and rain and hail lash down, but from her vantage point all she feels is a mild tremor under her feet. How can this be?

Kali wants to move out from under the overhanging rocks and edges around them to a clear space. The rocks could fall at any moment.  There is a campfire burning. She is not alone up here. A quick look around reveals a figure standing on the cliffs edge, his arms stretched out towards the devastation that is still raging below.

Tiamat.

I tell ya, I was not prepared for this.  I was exhausted from the tension I experienced following Kali’s mad dash to safety. My description is just a wee bit of what she goes through.

I am so excited just thinking about what I want to tell you. This happened and that happened! And what? I have never read a story quite like this. There is so much going on. The story raced to its conclusion, leaving me stunned.

At times I was scared. Other times I was so mad. And at one part, I realized I was crying, and it hurt.

D. H. Nevins has written a fantastic story of the end of the world and the last survivors. Perhaps this description is too simple, but I hesitate to tell much of the story. I want you to read it like I did. Unprepared and wide-eyed.  I want you to get to know each character and discover just what is really causing all the destruction.

I hope when you read Wormwood, you’ll tell me how it made you feel. Did you experience it like I did?

A huge Thank You to the author for an extremely well written story in which to immerse myself.

5 STARS

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EXCERPT:

I hastily threw the saddle on Hero and was up and riding before anyone in the group had a chance to ask me what was wrong. With my pulse thundering in my ears, I pushed the horse, leapt over crevasses and rode hard in a wide circle around the camp, scouring both sides of the stream and looking fiercely for anything that might indicate where my three friends had gone. But after a thorough, fruitless scout of the countryside, I began to slow my pace, the gravity of what may have transpired sinking in like a corrosive poison.

“Tiamat!” I screamed, my voice laced with venom. “What have you done with them? Where are they?” I turned the horse and scanned the gray skies but could see nothing. “Show yourself, you son-of-a-bitch!”

And he did.

Tiamat appeared as a speck on the western horizon. White wings spread out behind him, he grew larger by the second as he neared our location. And all around him, pacing his approach and stretching wide across the sky, rolled towering black clouds, thick and heavy with impending rain.

With my heart hammering in my chest, I kicked Hero into motion and raced back to the camp, watching Death approach on silent wings. He was incredibly fast—we reached the camp at almost the same moment—Tiamat, a vulture circling overhead while I thundered in on my horse.

There was a loud clang as the stew pot fell and splattered into the dirt. The group’s hunger was replaced by awe as they took in this supposed heavenly sign. They stood frozen, gawking at Tiamat in wonder and ignorance. Obviously unaware of the danger they faced, they looked expectantly at him, believing, perhaps, that mercy would come from above.

It did not. Like a warning, rain began to fall in a steady drizzle. It gathered and beaded on our upturned faces, and dripped from Tiamat’s wings and body as he circled overhead.

I watched him closely, my limbs shaking from anger and adrenalin. Keeping my eyes glued to his still passive movements, I slid from Hero’s saddle and scooped up the crossbow—Tiamat’s crossbow, actually. But while I loaded a bolt and cocked it, Tiamat matched my ante and calmly pulled out a knife. I was confused by this move at first. He could kill us in any number of ways; quickly and effortlessly. Why use a blade?

I moved to the center of the throng, trying to protect the others by maintaining a simple proximity to them. “Keep close to me,” I told them. “He’s come here to kill us.” A few of the group moved in toward me, but most looked at me like I was insane. Nellie and the tattered-looking business woman, whose name I had learned was Jennifer, actually stepped a few paces away, as if to show this celestial being they did not share my sentiment.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. What was I to do? Did they think he was going to bless them with his knife? “If you want to slaughter them, you’ll have to kill me too!” I shouted at him. My hands shaking, I aimed the crossbow up into the drizzle.

Tiamat didn’t respond and made no move toward us, but instead brought the edge of the knife to his bared wrist. He held it there for a moment, appearing to exert pressure with the blade, and I lowered the crossbow in shock. “Tiamat, don’t…” I gasped.

With a swift, violent movement, he slashed his left wrist deeply and the blood pumped out like a river, running down his arm as he held his gashed limb above his head. Wasting no time, Tiamat flew straight up into the drizzling sky, gaining height at an incredible speed. Then he ceased flying and immediately began tumbling downward, plummeting as he deliberately smeared the blood from his wrist across the feathers of his right wing. At the last moment, he pulled out of the free fall and swooped above our heads, scattering bloody water droplets onto our upturned faces.

“Oh … oh shit!” I cried, realizing what he was doing. There was something with his blood … what was it about his blood? I raised the crossbow again, watching as he tightly bound his wounded left wrist while he circled us, flinging blood from his wings with every beat. I had to shoot him … I had to…

My hands were slippery on the crossbow and my eyes blurred with tears. With quick, angry swipes, I dragged my arm across my eyes to clear them, and tried to aim again. I had him in my sights; he was about to slice into his right wrist—all I had to do was pull the trigger. I could feel the tears running freely now as a sob escaped my throat. The crossbow shook, but I fought to hold it steady, and focused my aim on his chest, the only way I could be sure…

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About Author D.H. Nevins:

D.H. Nevins was born in Toronto and currently lives in a quiet area of Ontario, surrounded by forests and lakes. By day, she is a personable, friendly school teacher. By night, she silently chuckles as she writes about destroying the world. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys world travel, hiking, camping, flying around on her motorcycle or dabbling in live theatre.

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