Mini Tour: The Alpha’s Resurrection by Marlowe Roy – Genre: Shifter Romance/ PNR @AuthorMarlowe @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours

We’re thrilled to help launch The Alpha’s Resurrection this week. Read on for more details and exclusive excerpt!

The Alpha’s Resurrection (The AfterEnd Omegaverse Series)

Expected Publication Date: August 23, 2023

Genre: PNR/ Shifter Romance

🔥Redemption story
🔥Forbidden love
🔥Sneaking around
🔥S*x lessons
🔥Age gap

One chance to choose her Alpha.

Zorah’s on a high-stakes mission: choose one of the Morris Hill Alphas to bond before summer ends. If she fails, she’ll return home and accept whomever her controlling parents pick, including her oily cousin.

With a dozen handsome Alphas vying for her attention, her future is under control. Until fate blinds her to all but one. Anti-social, reclusive, with a violent history, he’s lowest in the pack.

And he’s her mate.

His fresh start came with a price.

Desperate for a new life, Jake joins the Morris Hill Pack with a promise to never speak to an Omega. A high price he gladly paid for a shot at redemption.

But when his new village includes an irresistible Omega, he fears his resolve will crumble. Too young, too sweet, and too good for an Alpha trainwreck like him, he vows to stay away.

Forbidden to have and impossible to ignore, her nature calls to his; a destined collision he can’t avoid. Giving in risks his redemption, his place in the pack, and his very life.

But giving her up will tear them both apart.

Excerpt

Oblivious to her soured mood, Riddick snuck his arm around her waist and threw her a saucy grin. “Let’s take a walk and discuss what I might have to offer. What do you say? Care to join me for a moonlit stroll?”

Before she could answer, another unmistakable touch tingled against her nape. More forceful, like a taunt or a warning, it reverberated deep in her body, like the rumble of an earthquake that only she could feel. Zorah took an involuntary step backward and scanned the darkness beyond the fire, seeking the source of the elusive, invisible prickle. Another brush came, this one lighter and more cajoling, a puff of humid breath behind her ear.

It was nothing new. In the weeks since the sensation first wove its way into her awareness, she’d never once laid eyes on her watcher. But she knew him all the same. She knew the way his attention warmed when she laughed. She knew the way it sharpened when she flirted. And, most perplexing of all, she knew the way he recoiled when she sought him out.

Shards of orange firelight slashed against the rough-hewn village structures and flickered against the trees in the surrounding forest as Zorah glared into the black night. Some presence hovered in the gathering darkness, teasing her with these fleeting touches that seemed to communicate so much and yet nothing at all. Sudden frustration surged. Her watcher did not want her to go for an evening stroll with Riddick, yet they refused to come out into the light and even talk to her. It was beyond maddening.

Zorah drained her cup, letting the strong liquor swirl around her taste buds and fortify her nerves. Enough was enough.

“Not right now, sorry,” she said, handing Riddick her empty cup and inventing a plausible excuse. “I need to ask Grace about Ginny’s rash before she goes to bed. I’ll find you later.”

Riddick opened his mouth to protest, but Zorah didn’t wait to hear it. Feet crunching in the dry August grass, she waved off calls to her as she skirted past Packmates enjoying the party. Their laughs and raised voices chafed against her frazzled nerves as she narrowed her eyes and peered into the endless blank spaces between the trees. The touch lingered, a barely-there weight on the curve of her shoulder. Lessened in intensity, but present and real.

At the edge of the clearing, she charged into the tree cover, the depth of night folding around her like a blanket. Head swiveling this way and that, she sought to locate the source of the touch but came up empty. He must be hiding here somewhere. But where? Who was it? Why did she feel him — and she was rather certain it was a him — in a way she felt no one else? Was he special to her in some way, or she to him? Her illusory fated mate?

Her fated mate. As if the phrase was an antidote to the sensation, the touch faded away. No lingering tingle. No alluring caress. Nothing. Gone as if it never existed. A desolate emptiness yawned open behind Zorah’s ribs. An acute aloneness that left her feeling abandoned, neglected, and, strangely, let down.

It couldn’t be her fated mate. At any rate, her mother Ida argued fated mates were a fairy tale. Many Omegas, she alleged, never found a fated mate and were happy enough to make do with another. But, in Zorah’s (perhaps childish) estimation, a non-fated-mating was fine for other Omegas, but surely, she would find hers.

Problem was, Prince Charming Alpha was overdue on his long-awaited appearance. All she had to show after two months here was a cast of suitors, a weird sensation on the back of her neck, and a stomach tied in knots with worry.

With one last fruitless inspection of her surroundings, she pivoted back toward the party. She’d find Riddick and take the stupid walk. Even if she didn’t have a fated mate, and never made that special Alpha-Omega bond, she’d gladly accept him, Matteo, or any number of Morris Hill Alphas before she’d mate with Nelson. Stomping out of the trees, Zorah gritted her teeth. She’d welcome a lifetime of emptiness in place of a lifetime of oppression. No matter what, she had to choose one of these Alphas. And soon.

Get it on Amazon

About the Author

Marlowe Roy is a Midwestern transplant living in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Her husband describes her dystopian omegaverse stories as “punchy and unboring.” She writes late at night and on weekends and does not want to go for a hike.

Author Website: https://marloweroy.com

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/marloweroyauthor/

FB: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMarlowe

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorMarlowe

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