TEASER TUESDAY!!!!

Teaser Tuesday is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following..

1. Grab your current read.
2. Open to a random page.
3. Share two 'teaser' sentences from somewhere on that page.
4. Add the title and Author's name too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR pile.

BE CAREFUL NOT TO ADD SPOILERS

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So my teaser this week comes from a book called, Blood Moons by Alianne Donnelly.

Dr. Chase gave him a look. “Tristan, the treatments are mandatory. People can

protest all they want, but whether they like it or not, their children will receive it with or

without their knowledge. There are no loopholes. The guild and the government—since

they’re chief advisors to the president—thinks it’s because these traits are being naturally

selected for.”

“I don’t think I like where you’re going with this.”

It was easy to keep up with the political currents when he was being swept up in

them. And Tristan had been paying close attention.

Since the last fallout, the government had taken a stronger hand in the ruling of its

people. They dictated where people should live, what they should eat; they even

controlled fashion trends, although why anyone would want to get involved with that was

beyond him. Chem treating people right after birth to prevent any problems was just

another way to stay efficient.

If that was starting to fail, people were shit out of luck. Because the next step would

be engineering people according to the government’s specifications.

“Believe me, I don’t like it, either. But the grants have been received, supposedly

with no strings attached—”

“And yet in a few months’ time, officials will be knocking on your door for results

on the studies

they want done,” he finished for her.

“Yes,” Dr. Chase agreed unhappily, then hesitated before blurting out, “They’re

reproductive studies, Tristan.”

It took his brain a moment to process what she’d just said.

The rest she related quickly, as if she didn’t want to pollute her mind even long

enough to put the thought into words. “The preliminary design is to pair inmates

according to three processes—chemical traits, natural selection, and randomization.”

Tristan stared at her, astonished. “Please tell me you didn’t just say what I think you

just said.” They wouldn’t dare.

“It gets worse,” she said. “Interaction is necessary. They don’t want to see in vitro

fertilization in their results because it creates bias. As far as chemical traits and random

selection go, a computer can find candidates fairly easily, but the rest of it, especially the

natural selection part, is nothing more than…”

“Rape.” Tristan’s stomach did a nasty dive. Those bastards. “How will it be

conducted? What’s the scope?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do, damn it!” he growled. “How?”

Dr. Chase took a steadying breath. “Anarchy,” she said succinctly. “They plan to

designate an entire level to it. Men and women will be led inside in near-equal proportion

and then the guards will leave and the doors will close.”

“What’s the scope?”

“Total. No exceptions.”

The next thing Tristan growled was not in English. Dr. Chase stared at him, her

mouth agape. “Was that Greek?” she asked in amazement.

Gaelic, actually. But he spoke Greek and Latin too. Wasn’t worth it to read

The

Odyssey

or The Aeneid in the English translation. Like paying the price of a 3-D

interactive admission to watch the movie on TV. But he couldn’t say that; he could barely

make a sound.

Tristan was struggling to keep from lashing out. The previous studies done on him

had changed him significantly, altered his mental and physical abilities. His muscles have

been enhanced—a side effect of one of the serums Dr. Chase always pumped into him.

They caused him to have outbursts of incredible strength that he couldn’t control, because

they were triggered by stress or anger—times when he didn’t

want to be in control. He

was literally a primed bomb ready to go off at any moment.

Even as he gripped the armrests of the chair he was sitting in, the material indented,

right down to the alloy center. There would be marks left on it.

“Tristan, listen to me. You have to breathe through this. I don’t want to have to

sedate you.”

“Of course not,” he managed to say through gritted teeth. “That would mean no more

experiments today.”

Dr. Chase stepped away. “You know that’s not true,” she said and Tristan could hear

the hurt in her voice. She wasn’t one of them, he tried to remind himself. If she hadn’t

told him, that reproductive study would have come as a nasty surprise.

He breathed in, instinctively reaching out to the only person like him within ten light

years. He

felt Dara start and drop her book. Cursing himself, he pulled back instantly,

throwing up all his shields. He told himself that the next breath came easier, and his

vision settled to normal. He pretended that the details faded until he couldn’t see the

miniscule writing on the computer screen twelve feet away from him anymore.

Dr. Chase was next to him again, her fingers pressed to the inside of his wrist, but

she wasn’t looking at her watch to measure his heart rate. Tristan looked at her and she

blinked. “Your eyes have changed. The pupils contracted vertically just now, like a

cat’s.” There was something in her voice, some kind of emotion he couldn’t pinpoint in

his current state.

His jaw was clenched so hard the muscles ached. “Amelia,” he said, fighting to

regain his senses. “I need to ask you a favor.”

“What is it?”

“Keep her out of it.”

She frowned. “The woman? I’m not sure if I can. I told you the scope—”

Christ, his teeth were about to start cracking. “You can try. There are ways. There

are always options.”

“Tristan, I can’t make her disappear. She’s on the list. She’s coming in tomorrow

for—”

“No,” he told her fiercely, meeting her gaze. His hand turned up to capture hers for

emphasis, though it took everything he had to control his muscles and not crush her

bones. The more he fought himself, the more it enraged him, eroding his control further.

Tristan focused on his breath and nothing more. In and out. He closed his eyes. In and

out.

The security cameras beeped as they turned back on. A deep male voice called

Amelia’s name from the intercom by the door.

“Please,” Tristan said and opened his eyes. If it was all he could ever do for the

woman, he had to keep her away from this mess. Dara exuded innocence like an aura he

could practically see around her. She’d be broken by this. Irreparably. Tristan had seen

rape victims in the memories of some of the men here. Those women had lost everything

that had ever defined them, leaving nothing but a shell of a human being. And if there

was one thing he never wanted to see, it was Dara’s eyes completely empty like that.

Dr. Chase pulled her hand free and answered the intercom. “All clear here, Sergeant.

I must have punched in the wrong combination. Won’t happen again.”

“Need backup?”

“No, thank you. Everything’s fine.” She waved at the camera for good measure.

“All right, then. Security out.” But they weren’t and both she and Tristan knew it.

Amelia picked up the file that lay next to Tristan’s and came to him so she wouldn’t

have to speak loudly. “Dara Frost,” she read. “She was sentenced to life for a series of

bloody murders. Seems she called the police with some information that led them to one

of the victims. He was already dead, and there were no clues to point to the killer. Except

her call.” She closed the file. “The chief of police testified against her, then pleaded for

the jury to spare her life. No one really believed she did it, but the people were screaming

for blood. And hers was the most readily available.”

Tristan felt ice settle in the marrow of his bones. She’d seen it. She’d looked into a

serial killer’s mind because she couldn’t keep it from happening. And now she was far

too close to far too many of them, with no mental guards to keep out their sick thoughts.

How did she survive without going mad?

She doesn’t belong here.

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until Dr. Chase tilted her head, studying him

curiously. “No, I suppose she doesn’t. But there are a lot of us here who could make that

claim. What should be doesn’t change what is.” Her tone didn’t tell him whether she was

talking about him, or herself. “I hope you’re not planning to make a crusade out of this.

It’s not worth it to stick your own neck out for someone you don’t even know.”

Tristan was nobody’s puppet. What the doctors did to him, they did only because he

allowed it. Dr. Chase, for all her sage advice, had her own agenda when it came to him.

Her research was dependent on his full cooperation, and until now, he’d given it without

qualm. That she would stoop to this kind of manipulation was as low as it was

unexpected. Which meant that Tristan shut down. “Perform your experiments, Doc. The

sooner you’re done, the sooner I can get out of here.”

Amelia sighed, smart enough to know when it wasn’t worth it to stay on a subject

anymore. She pulled the ready kit close again and became all business. “It’s an

intravenous treatment to stabilize your fluctuations in strength. It should make outbursts

more controllable.” The serum was already prepared and she measured an exact amount

in the syringe before she injected it into his arm. “The side effects should be mild. A little

headache and muscle soreness. Nothing a guy like you can’t handle.”

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Now iv been putting off reading this book and I really dont know why because now Iv started im really loving it. xx