Gifted

Title: Gifted: The Hayven Series

Author: J.A. George

Genre: YA Romance / Fantasy / Dystopian

“Why do birds fly? Why do lions hunt deer? Why does the sun shine and the moon glow? Because it must. I wish I could tell you why, I truly do. It mustn’t be easy, such pressure weighted on such young shoulders, but we do not always choose the lives we must lead.” 

Avery Gray had no choice but to be different. She was not born that way; she was chosen. 

After having met a special, silver-haired woman, and the handsome and enigmatic Theodore-James Connors, Ava finds herself in Hayven, a city separated from the rest of the world, where only gifters – ordinary people with extra-ordinary gifts – can go. With Theo, his friends, Hayven, her gift, and the ability to ‘travel’ in different colours, Ava must now accept that she can no longer classify herself as normal. As friendships develop, and Theo and Ava become closer than she anticipated, it turns out her new gifted life comes with a catch. With no choice or say on the matter, Ava must save a city she is starting to fall in love with; a city that has almost begun to feel like home. 

Author Bio

J.A. George is the author of the four-part series, GIFTED: THE HAYVEN SERIES. Jessica spent years of her life reading book after book before sitting on her bed one morning, opening her laptop and typing Chapter One into her word document. Now, not only does she read book after book, she now writes book after book too. When she's not writing, she's trying to break her record of finishing a tub of Oreo ice cream in less than forty-five minutes.
You can contact her at Jess.george@hotmail.co.uk

Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Gifted-Hayven-Book-J-George-ebook/dp/B00XIGZ41S/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1432732686&sr=8-1&keywords=gifted+hayven
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25561417-gifted

Book Excerpt

Amidst my shock and inability to speak, I found myself staring at my dripping hands in awe. On the opposite side of where I was kneeling, I watched a trail of blood flow from the woman’s back and it matched the blood on my hands; regular red coloured blood but as if it had been doused in glitter; it shined and sparkled even in the dimly lit room. It was almost…beautiful. The stream of blood continued to travel, cutting a slashed line across the floor, decorating the cream and coffee coloured marble swirls with red.

Suddenly, the flowing line of blood stopped as if an invisible dam had blocked its path, and slowly but surely the blood trail began to disappear, retreating up the route it had travelled down in as if being sucked back into the woman. The blood on my hands began to fade as well as if I was doing nothing more than washing red sparkling paint off my hands under a running tap. Hardly able to breath, I continued to study my hands with non-still eyes when the woman opened her eyes and grabbed my exposed arm at the wrist. I jolted at her sudden cold touch and looked down at the woman. Her eyes looked as if they were dark blue glass mirrors and I could see my panicked expression reflected in them. Then the woman opened her mouth to speak, her stare non-wavering, “The Cliders have returned…growing each day in strength and numbers…Madrina…Hayven…you must lead as I once did…you must fight…you must win…or…terrible darkness.”

The woman’s breathing became dangerously erratic, her voice weak and hoarse. Her grip on my arm tightened with a strength I never thought possible in such a frail and dying woman. With tears in my eyes, I looked down to her grasp, hoping to try to pry her hand off but ended up gasping at the sight. The woman’s hand that tightly held my wrist become transparent, her blue veins more prominent and as I watched, her pale blue veins turned purple then back to blue, to silver and back to blue again. One look at my arm and I saw the numerous lines of veins doing the same. I watched, transfixed and horrified as my veins turned purple then blue, then silver and then blue again. My mind grew foggy and my gaze hazy; I heard the blood in my system flowing fast, as if running late; my pulse drumming loudly in my ears. As my gaze cleared again, I looked down at the silver-haired woman. She smiled up at me as she released her grip and let her hand fall limp again to her side.

“You will do well, Ava,” she said before she took her final breath, closed her eyelids contentedly, and died.