FURY, the much anticipated third standalone of The Seven Deadly Series by Fisher Amelie, releases May 4th, 2015! As we count down the days, Fisher is teasing us yet again! Here is the highly awaited cover!!
And now, without further ado...
About FURY:
Revenge is an euphoric thing. Trust me on this. Nothing compares to the release you get when you ruin someone’s life. When they’ve stolen important things. Things that didn’t belong to them. Things I revel in making them pay for.
What? Have I offended you? I’m not here to appeal to your delicate senses. I have no intention of placating your wishes or living within your personal belief system nor do I care if you hate me. And you will hate me. Because I’m a brutal, savage, cold-blooded murderer and I’m here for my revenge.
I’m Ethan Moonsong...And this is the story about how I went from the world’s most sacrificing man to the most feared and why I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
EXCERPT from FURY, Coming May 4, 2015:
We start where we left off from Fisher’s last excerpt. If you’d like to read it, you can go here!
“Ethan?” she asked. “Is that you?”
“Hello, Finley,” I answered.
“How are you?” she asked, somehow devoid of the pity I’d often heard in so many greetings since Cricket. I was grateful to her for this.
“I’m fine,” I slurred, lifting my head a bit to meet her eyes.
A grin met her lips. “You were always a terrible liar.” Her smile fell a little. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m drinking.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You hate drinking.”
“I learned to love it,” I said, downing the remaining contents of my glass, letting it burn.
She looked me up and down, making me feel self-conscious. “But apparently it doesn’t love you.”
“Thanks,” I snorted, acting like I didn’t care. But I did.
“You look terrible,” she said, ignoring me. “Are you even eating?”
“I’m consuming the daily recommended calorie intake,” I hedged.
“Ah,” she answered, examining my empty glass.
I shook my head and signaled to Vi for another.
Finley narrowed her eyes once more. “Can I get a basket of chicken tenders too, Vi?” she added.
“Sure thing,” she said, ringing up Finley’s food before grabbing the bottle of Jack and filling me to the top.
Finley examined my glass but didn’t say a word.
“What?” I asked, feeling defensive.
“Nothing,” she answered, looking at her hands.
“Judging me?”
“Not at all,” she said sincerely and looked me dead in the eye.
This look froze me, and the glass slipped from my fingers and back onto the bar top, spilling a little from the rim.
“I’ve done that very thing,” she said, gesturing toward my glass.
“Drink ’til you’re numb?”
“No,” she said, “succumb to a vice in order to forget.”
I leaned forward, stunned by this admission, and my eyes found hers. “What, Finley?”
She hesitated, started to open her mouth, but someone called her name and she turned around. It was an ex-classmate of ours, couldn’t remember her name, the one she’d been dancing with, and I found myself feeling anxious all of a sudden. I hadn’t felt anxious in a long time. Hadn’t felt anything, really, other than severe pain and shame, in a very long time. Huh.
“Finley, Chris is gonna give me a ride back home. You cool?” the girl asked, eyeing me. She knew. The whole town knew about my tumble down the rabbit hole.
“Yeah, Holly Raye. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she answered, her brows scrunched in confusion.
Finley was surprised by Holly Raye’s apparent worry which I found odd.
“Okay,” Holly Raye said, kissing Finley’s cheek.
Chris was waiting by the door for her, and we both watched them leave, afraid to speak, our earlier moment gone.
Vi walked up with Finley’s chicken tenders and set them in front of her. Her fingers found one but lifted up quickly with a tiny gasp.
“Hot,” she whispered, resting her fingers against the side of her water glass.
She let them cool for a few moments and we sat in awkward silence. I wasn’t sure what she was still doing there. I didn’t have any clue why she had even started to talk to me either. I mean, I knew in high school she’d had a crush on me, but I figured it was long gone. She used to stare at me a little doe eyed, and I had always done my best to be kind to her but not too kind. I’d considered her a friend but nothing more, even if I did take solace in my conversations with her. I’d never admitted that out loud to anyone then, though, not that I was ashamed or anything. It’s just, I was in love with Cricket.
Cricket.
The ache in my chest burned deep, a restless reminder of all I’d lost. And suddenly I felt guilty for finding Finley attractive even when I thought she was a stranger. Even after Cricket left me for Spencer.
“You should probably leave,” I told her.
She looked at me like I was crazy. “I’ll do whatever I want,” she said, sitting taller, pitching me that confident Finley attitude I remembered from high school.
“Whatever,” I said, then called out to Vi for another round, which she served up quickly.
Finley tore apart a few tenders then handed me half of one.
“Uh, no,” I said, downing my glass.
“Uh, yes,” she mocked, shoving the piece in my face.
“Stop,” I said, swiping it away.
“Eat, damn it,” she said.
I looked at her and the expression on her face told me she wouldn’t quit, so I roughly took it from her and took a large bite. She bit into her own piece, a smug look on her face. She practically hand fed me every piece in the damn basket, but I didn’t care. I knew what she was doing, but it wouldn’t work because the liquor resting in my belly was too substantial to be worked against.
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