ROOK (Book #1)

From USA TODAY and WALL STREET JOURNAL bestselling author, a psychic warfare adventure set in a gritty alternate version of Earth. Contains strong romantic elements. Apocalyptic. Psychic Romance.


Was he her enemy? Her savior? Her guardian? Or something much more terrifying?


Seers, the mysterious race of beings discovered on Earth, have fascinated Allie since childhood, since the first time she went to see them in an exhibit with her father at the Oakland Coliseum in California.


But you have to be rich to own a seer, and it’s illegal to let them roam un-collared, since they’re dangerous as hell. With their insanely strong psychic powers, seers have been used to wage wars, commit terrorism, expand organized crime, even take over governments.


As a waitress and college dropout, Allie only sees seers at a distance, usually working in front of sex clubs, or on the leash of powerful businessmen… until Revik bursts into her life.

Before long, Allie is thrown into a world behind the world, one most humans never dreamed existed, where she discovers she may not be all that human, after all.

Worse, Revik tells her that the seers believe she will destroy the world.

She will kill all the humans.

She will be the one to finally free them from slavery.


Psychic romance. Apocalyptic.


The first chapter in an epic, soul-crushing, science fantasy romance.


THE BRIDGE & SWORD SERIES is a dark, gritty psychic warfare romance. Set in a gritty, alternate version of Earth, it stars Alyson Taylor and her partner, dark and dangerous infiltrator, Dehgoies Revik. For fans of romantic, character-driven science fiction and fantasy worlds, filled with twists and turns and backstabbing betrayals, with heroes and villains who are sometimes the same people. The Bridge & Sword books span continents and historical periods as Allie and Revik try to save the human and seer races from destroying one another, and keep their friends and loved ones alive in the process.


The world is dying. Everyone feels it, and yet... no one knows.

They said that when the end was near, a Bridge would come,

and lead them out of the darkness of that dying world.

My name is Allie Taylor, and I am that Bridge.

*Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and violence. Mature readers only. Not intended for young readers.*


Praise for ROOK

“Be forewarned, once you get started, you will be hooked on the series!” ~ Alchemy of Scrawl


“The sexual tension is scorching...” ~ The Muses Circle


“[S]uch strong chemistry between Allie and her guide, Revik, that it takes your breath away.” ~ Literary R&R


“[F]illed with more backstabbing betrayal, twist and turns than I even thought possible…” ~ I (Heart) Reading


"[A] fascinating world and an action-packed story; a version of the battle of good versus evil.” ~ Dreamstime Books


“[I]t sucked me in and sent me scampering off to get the second book the moment I was done reading.” ~ New Myths


“...I think I was as exhausted as the hero/heroine from being so emotionally invested.” ~ A.B. Shepherd, Book Blogger


“If you are a fan of fantasy or paranormal romance, you must read this!” ~ The Indie Bookshelf


“What an interesting unique read!!” ~ Keeping Up With the Rheinlanders


“I started reading this book and soon found that I could not put it down.” ~ ML Sawyer, Book Blogger




HE CLEARED HIS throat again. I heard impatience that time. Annoyance.

“May I speak with you?” he said. “It’s important.”


I blinked.


Nope. He was still there.


He was also definitely talking to me.


I glanced at Cass, who was staring up at him, too, her red-lipsticked mouth ajar where she still leaned over the lunch counter, her short-skirted butt in the air. When I glanced back at Mr. Monochrome, though, he hadn’t followed the direction of my gaze.


Those clear eyes remained locked on me.


His narrow lips curled in a frown. The impression of impatience strengthened.


“Now, Alyson,” he said. “It can’t wait.”


He spoke like someone used to having his words obeyed.


I wasn’t really someone used to having to listen to people who spoke to me like that, though, maybe because I’d never had jobs high-paying enough that I had to care. Even our boss at the diner, Tom, didn’t go there with me.


With this guy, I hesitated.


Maybe part of it was the sheer fact of his physical presence.


I’d never stood this close to him before, not while he was standing, too, so I’d never really realized how tall he was, or how broad-shouldered. I definitely hadn’t realized that my head only came up to about the middle of his chest. He had one of those frames that made him look more lean than big, more of a runner type than a weight lifter, but now that he stood directly in front of me, I realized that impression might be deceptive, too.


Up close, he looked more like one of Jon’s martial arts buddies, or even Jon himself. The muscles this guy wore definitely looked functional, not purely decorative.


Until now, he’d never looked me in the face before, either.


When he ordered from me, he never looked up from the table, or away from the window. He didn’t so much as glance in my direction when he walked into the diner, or when he left.


He was looking at me now, though.


His light-colored eyes stunned me in some way I couldn’t quite articulate to myself, maybe in part because they weren’t what I expected. I’d known his eyes were on the light side, but I hadn’t realized how light. Looking at them now, they appeared to have almost no color at all, apart from a vague tint. I supposed technically they must be blue or gray, but they reminded me more of crystals I’d seen in New Age rock shops. Their lightness was made stranger by his eyes’ almond slant and the pitch black hair, but I didn’t see how they could be contact lenses.


Maybe he’d gotten some kind of cosmetic surgery?


Either way, it wasn’t my finest moment, me gaping up at him like a drunk teenager.


Mr. Monochrome stared back at me, exuding impatience.


Then, without warning, he moved.


Before I could jerk back, or get out a single word, he caught hold of my upper arm. His fingers felt like flesh-wrapped steel, not bone; they closed around my bicep like a vice. He gripped me tightly enough that I let out a surprised sound, but I didn’t fight him.

I was still staring at his face, when something slammed into my chest, a flood of warmth.

I didn’t see anything, but it felt nearly physical in intensity. It confused me, calmed me, wiped out my ability to think. It was thorough, too, whatever it was. I relaxed totally under his fingers. It didn’t even cross my mind to fight the sensation.


When my vision cleared, he was watching me, his eyes sharp, filled with scrutiny, as if he was trying to read something in the details of my face.


“All right?” he said.


Thinking about his question, I nodded. 


“Okay.” I nodded a second time. The motion felt odd, almost mechanical. “Yes.”


I saw his shoulders relax, but something about the way he moved, even the nod he gave me in return, struck me as strange. Not in an alarming way; rather, it fascinated me. He moved oddly. It reminded me of something, that small gesture, those little adjustments of his body and face. The way he stood there. His angular face.


I tried to remember what it reminded me of.


He didn’t wait for me to finish that line of thought.


“Come on,” he said, gruff.


Before I’d made sense of the words, he’d already dragged me through the opening in the linoleum-topped lunch counter.


I followed him, without a care in my mind.



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