Willowberg, excited for a fresh start. Once there, she discovers that her
birthmark is more than it seems. She has been marked by a vampire’s soul. Not only does she hold his soul, but Amelia is also his soulmate.
the painful memories of her past and uncovers a powerful secret. But before she
has a chance to explore her newfound edge, she finds herself caught in the middle
of a deadly game of revenge and is forced to realize that YOU CANNOT RUN FROM
- ‘The Soul’s Mark: FOUND’ Won 2012 Royal Dragonfly
Book Award With a Perfect Score for Young Adult Fiction.
- The Soul’s Mark: FOUND has been IndieReader
“Verdict: While this classic vampire-human love story could have
been no more than another Twilight- style tale of possession, Stoyanoff takes
care to create both an innovative backstory for the creation of vampires as
well as a believable and entertaining romance.”
slightly. “It’s coming from the
kitchen. This can’t be good.” She shot Amelia a frazzled look and then
dashed up the steps of the porch. At the
glass double doors, she turned back and waved, gesturing for Amelia to
follow. “Come on, honey,” she called,
before rushing into the house.
clatter echoed through the doorway.
Amelia rushed after Angelle, jogging over the inter-locking stone, dazed,
as if she had stumbled into an alternate universe. She climbed the three steps of the
stone-covered porch and peeked through the open door, trying to stay out of the
way of whatever chaos had been unleashed.
by a man’s agonized yell. Amelia glanced
around, realizing she was walking into the kitchen.
amused. His arms were raised in an
attempt to protect himself from the blows of a broom swishing furiously at
him. “It was an accident!” he cried out.
elderly woman who looked to Amelia like she was made of circles, with a round
pudgy face and plump round body. She had
on a flowery apron splattered with some kind of yellowy goo and she was
screaming unintelligible utterances at the man as she continued to beat him
fire crackling and blazing. Forgetting
the scene in front of her, she dropped her bag and rushed in. What had her mother said about grease
fires? Baking soda, use baking soda, Amelia thought, that was it. She whipped
open the fridge, frantically searching and grabbed a box of baking soda from
the door. She dumped it on the burning
grease-lit frying pan. The fire extinguished in a billowing cloud of smoke and she
coughed when she sucked in a breath.
yelled, jumping in between them. She
snatched the broom out of the woman’s hands and tossed it out of reach. It flew across the room, and slammed into the
wall before clattering to the marble floor.
“That’s enough.” She grabbed the
man by the shoulders and shoved him away.
a tizzy, surveying the mess. Amelia
followed her gaze and noticed that the yellowy goo was splattered everywhere,
smeared across the large cherry island, globbed on the weathered black wall
cabinets, dripping from the ceiling, as if a bomb of stickiness had gone off.
at Angelle as if she had really hurt him.
Amelia stood back and watched, trying to stay out of the way. He was just as tall as Angelle, and bulky
with muscles like a football player, a really hot football player. “I was just trying to make pancakes for
Amelia,” he said, smiling bashfully at Amelia.
Then he looked back over at Angelle, “And in case you missed it, she was
hitting me. Why did you shove me like
of annoyance, “I’m sure you deserved it Eric.
You usually do.” She looked over
at the woman, who was now scurrying around the kitchen trying to clean up the
mess. “What did he do, Mabel?”
Eric, Amelia realized. She giggled.
He really was looking green.
That’s what the guard had been talking about. His shaggy, uneven, punk style haircut was dyed
in a vibrant, bright green. Hot, she thought. Green hair, hot? Well, on him, yes, it was really hot. He was covered in the same sticky goo—pancake
said. Her voice was stern and a touch
motherly and she had a soft accent, maybe English, Amelia thought. And she
looked absolutely fit to be tied.He just shrugged. “Stirring was taking too long.”
hair?” Angelle laughed. “You look like a
back against the island, arms folded across his chest.
chauffeur. And I think it looks
great. I thought you would appreciate
it.” He batted his eyes and struck a
pose. “It totally matches my eyes.” He looked Amelia over and then pushed off
from the counter, strolling towards her with a mischievous grin on his face.
her and she really hoped she wasn’t drooling, because man, he was sexy, like
head to toe sexy. He stopped about a
foot away from her and she met his eyes, which indeed matched his new hair
giggled like a little schoolgirl. He
took her hand in his, and kissed it lightly.
“Welcome my lady,” he said playfully.
Stoyanoff lives in Whitby, Ontario and loves diving into the magical
world of creating fiction. Over the years she has written numerous short
stories. The Soul’s Mark: FOUND is her debut novel. When not writing, she can
be found reading sappy novels, watching cheesy chick flicks, and buying far too
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