Waterfell by Amalie Howard
Series: The Aquarathi #1
Publication date: October 29th, 2013
Synopsis (according to Goodreads):
THE DEEP CAN BE DEADLY... BUT LOVE CAN BE DEADLIER
Nerissa Marin is far from home. Though she lives an anonymous life on land during her cycle of human study, she is Aquarathi royalty by birth--and the future monarch of a hidden, undersea kingdom. But when her father is murdered, the human world becomes her only refuge.
Adrift and indifferent, Riss indulges her every whim, including her feelings for the new surf king of Dover Prep, Lokeane Seavon. But as the day she comes of age looms closer, old enemies appear and challenges are issued: If she forsakes her throne, her people will suffer for it.
To win her crown, she must become the queen she was born to be.
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SeaMonster by Amalie Howard
Series: The Aquarathi #1.5
Publication date: June 17th, 2014
Synopsis (according to Goodreads):
They say that love is the death of duty...
Speio Marin is land-bound tied to the side of the Waterfell queen-to-be, Nerissa. There's only one problem--she wants nothing to do with any of the Aquarathi or her undersea kingdom, preferring instead the freedom or pretending to be human. Torn between his own desires and his duty to serve his future queen, he spirals into an abyss of malcontent. Speio's mistrust of humans is no secret, and he sees them only as a threat to the existence of his people.
Until he meets Anya Delmonico--a mysterious and enigmatic girl, teetering on the edge of survival. Anya is sedate and secretive, yet reckless enough to brave a hundred-foot cliff jump. Caught between a dark past and an ex-boyfriend who refuses to let her go, Anya knows that getting involved with anyone new is the last thing she should do. But when her past catches up to her, Speio turns out to be the only one she can trust, refusing to let her face her demons alone.
When Anya discovers the truth about Speio, putting her life in mortal danger from the Aquarathi as well as her own sinister pursuers, will he risk everything to protect her? Or will he choose duty above all?
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Oceanborn by Amalie Howard
Series: The Aquarathi #2
Publication date: July 29th, 2014
Synopsis (according to Goodreads):
The coronation is over.
But the battle has just begun.
Nerissa Marin has won her crown. But can she keep it? Already, her ties to the human realm are driving a wedge between Nerissa and her people. When word arrives that her part-human prince consort, Lo, has been poisoned, she makes the difficult choice to leave Waterfell and return landside. As the royal courts debate her decision, even more disturbing rumors surface: a plot is rising against her, led by someone she least expects.
On land, Nerissa learns another shocking truth: Lo does not remember who she is. As her choice to try to save him threatens her hold on her crown, changing loyalties and uncertainty test her courage in ways she could never have imagined. Nerissa will have one last chance to prove herself as a queen... and save the undersea kingdom she loves.
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I walk across the parking lot without looking back, and jump into my car. My hands are trembling with emotion and my throat is dry like sandpaper.
It's too much, I think. All of it is too much.
How can I be expected to lead others when I can't even control myself? I gulp and lean my head against the cool window, heaving breaths into my lungs, hoping to staunch the tide of helplessness that's threatening to overwhelm me. I've never done well with feeling powerless.
My body heats, lights starting to shimmer beneath the surface of my skin. I need to get to the ocean. I need to get out of there before I do something ridiculous like throw up all over the floor of my Jeep or light up like a bucket of sparklers. Or worse.
With my emotions on the rocks, there's always the possibility of worse.
On cue, thunder rumbles in the distance.
Flooring the gas pedal, my tires burn a black path across the asphalt as I peel out of the lot, heading blindly for the shoreline. The drive seems endless even though it's only a few minutes before I see a band of blue on the horizon. Then I'm out of the car and running on the sand as fast as my legs can take me, despite my exhaustion from the earlier hockey game. I don't care about the ache or the burn.
I need the sea.
In seconds, I fling myself off the edge of the pier in a graceful swan dive, letting the icy water envelop every part of me, until suddenly I can breathe again. I ignore the curious glances of nearby surfers clad head-to-toe in wet suits and churn my arms in a strong front crawl that takes me effortlessly past the breakers.
The water is cold for February, but it feels balmy against my bare skin as I duck underneath the last of the breaking waves to make my way underwater to where the ocean undulates with a gentle wide roll.
I'm careful to control my reaction to the sea--it's like life energy to me--and it takes work to stay focused and make sure I don't transform, when every part of me wants to give in to its magical call. But I relax enough to let the cold salty water do what I came here for. I let it soothe me, fill me, pass over and through me until I am calm. Until it fills all the hollow spaces inside of me and I'm whole once more.
It has been only minutes but it feels like days. Floating on my back watching the popcornlike clouds sail across the sky, I don't immediately notice the surfer paddling toward me. Or maybe I do and hope that he'll go away, but I can feel the ripples in the water that tell me he's coming closer.
"Hey, you okay?"
Turning, I make contact with a pair of the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen--a bottomless, glimmering blue, as if he'd leached the color straight from the sun-striated depths of the ocean. The eyes belong to a boy not much older than me. He paddles closer.
I must have imagined the strange, shimmering color, or it must have been some trick of the sunlight, because on closer inspection, his eyes are more dark than light, almost blue-black. His teeth flash white at my stare.
"I'm fine," I manage, tearing my gaze away.
The boy shoots me a knowing glance before his eyes dip to my bare arms beneath my t-shirt. "Um, you're not wearing a wet suit. Aren't you freezing?"
"I'm fine," I repeat, irritated at my lack of self-control over some local with pretty eyes who probably doesn't even go to school and spends all his days tanning and surfing. "Look, thanks for your concern..."
"Lo," the boy supplies helpfully. At my blank look, he clarifies. "Name's Lo."
"Well, thanks, Lo. See you around."
I duck-dive and swim a few lengths underwater before resurfacing several feet away. He hasn't moved and is still watching me with that intense midnight-blue stare. A shiver of something treks down my spine.
"Nice meeting you," he says loudly.
Lo shoots another blindingly white smile in my direction that I ignore. Cute, arrogant surfers are a dime a dozen in this part of the world, and I have more important things to worry about.
I watch him as he deftly paddles to catch a wave, his body sleek as a seal's in his form-fitting wet suit. He rides the lip expertly, skimming along the foamy tip of its crest before disappearing down its face, and then reappearing in a sharp snap to bring the board up and around.
Boy has skills.
As if sensing my stare, at the very last minute on his final turn, Lo rips backward on his surfboard to make eye contact with me one last time--a look that I can feel even as far away as he is--and winks before somersaulting backward into the surf.
I feel that last glance of his all the way to my toenails, and not even the icy touch of the water can calm the deep flush that tunnels its way through me.
It's too much, I think. All of it is too much.
How can I be expected to lead others when I can't even control myself? I gulp and lean my head against the cool window, heaving breaths into my lungs, hoping to staunch the tide of helplessness that's threatening to overwhelm me. I've never done well with feeling powerless.
My body heats, lights starting to shimmer beneath the surface of my skin. I need to get to the ocean. I need to get out of there before I do something ridiculous like throw up all over the floor of my Jeep or light up like a bucket of sparklers. Or worse.
With my emotions on the rocks, there's always the possibility of worse.
On cue, thunder rumbles in the distance.
Flooring the gas pedal, my tires burn a black path across the asphalt as I peel out of the lot, heading blindly for the shoreline. The drive seems endless even though it's only a few minutes before I see a band of blue on the horizon. Then I'm out of the car and running on the sand as fast as my legs can take me, despite my exhaustion from the earlier hockey game. I don't care about the ache or the burn.
I need the sea.
In seconds, I fling myself off the edge of the pier in a graceful swan dive, letting the icy water envelop every part of me, until suddenly I can breathe again. I ignore the curious glances of nearby surfers clad head-to-toe in wet suits and churn my arms in a strong front crawl that takes me effortlessly past the breakers.
The water is cold for February, but it feels balmy against my bare skin as I duck underneath the last of the breaking waves to make my way underwater to where the ocean undulates with a gentle wide roll.
I'm careful to control my reaction to the sea--it's like life energy to me--and it takes work to stay focused and make sure I don't transform, when every part of me wants to give in to its magical call. But I relax enough to let the cold salty water do what I came here for. I let it soothe me, fill me, pass over and through me until I am calm. Until it fills all the hollow spaces inside of me and I'm whole once more.
It has been only minutes but it feels like days. Floating on my back watching the popcornlike clouds sail across the sky, I don't immediately notice the surfer paddling toward me. Or maybe I do and hope that he'll go away, but I can feel the ripples in the water that tell me he's coming closer.
"Hey, you okay?"
Turning, I make contact with a pair of the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen--a bottomless, glimmering blue, as if he'd leached the color straight from the sun-striated depths of the ocean. The eyes belong to a boy not much older than me. He paddles closer.
I must have imagined the strange, shimmering color, or it must have been some trick of the sunlight, because on closer inspection, his eyes are more dark than light, almost blue-black. His teeth flash white at my stare.
"I'm fine," I manage, tearing my gaze away.
The boy shoots me a knowing glance before his eyes dip to my bare arms beneath my t-shirt. "Um, you're not wearing a wet suit. Aren't you freezing?"
"I'm fine," I repeat, irritated at my lack of self-control over some local with pretty eyes who probably doesn't even go to school and spends all his days tanning and surfing. "Look, thanks for your concern..."
"Lo," the boy supplies helpfully. At my blank look, he clarifies. "Name's Lo."
"Well, thanks, Lo. See you around."
I duck-dive and swim a few lengths underwater before resurfacing several feet away. He hasn't moved and is still watching me with that intense midnight-blue stare. A shiver of something treks down my spine.
"Nice meeting you," he says loudly.
Lo shoots another blindingly white smile in my direction that I ignore. Cute, arrogant surfers are a dime a dozen in this part of the world, and I have more important things to worry about.
I watch him as he deftly paddles to catch a wave, his body sleek as a seal's in his form-fitting wet suit. He rides the lip expertly, skimming along the foamy tip of its crest before disappearing down its face, and then reappearing in a sharp snap to bring the board up and around.
Boy has skills.
As if sensing my stare, at the very last minute on his final turn, Lo rips backward on his surfboard to make eye contact with me one last time--a look that I can feel even as far away as he is--and winks before somersaulting backward into the surf.
I feel that last glance of his all the way to my toenails, and not even the icy touch of the water can calm the deep flush that tunnels its way through me.
About the Author:
AMALIE HOWARD is the award-winning author of several young adult novels critically acclaimed by Kirkus, Publishers Weekly, VOYA, School Library Journal, and Booklist, including Waterfell, The Almost Girl, and Alpha Goddess, a Kid's INDIE NEXT selection. Her debut novel, Bloodspell, was a #1 bestseller in gothic fiction, and the sequel, Bloodcraft, was a national IPPY silver medalist and Children's Moonbeam Award winner. She is also the co-author of the #1 bestseller in Regency Romance, My Rogue, My Ruin, in the Lords of Essex historical romance series. She currently resides in Colorado with her husband and three children. Visit her on her website.
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