Alex by Dianne Hartsock – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Alex is twenty and confused. He always is. The world presses on him with its horrors and pain, with scintillating auras that bewilder his eyes and drive the migraines deeper. He hears the cries of the children, sees the brutal images of tortured victims. He feels out of control and his mind slips…

Severely abused as a child, he is left with horrible scars on his body and even worse scars within his mind. Even though it puts him in danger, he’s compelled to help those who call to him. He’s driven, motivated by his visions to rescue them and hopefully uncover the killer. When he can, he helps the police; yet some detectives suspect he’s involved. Often, Alex finds himself alone and afraid in a world he doesn’t always understand.

Enjoy an Exclusive Excerpt


He jumped, spinning toward the voice. “Kyle.”

He had to look away. The young man’s white hair was loose, the blue tips catching the sunlight. The color was irresistible and drew Alex’s gaze back to it. As they walked, he stared at the fluttering strands in bewildered fascination.

Kyle was aware of his fixation and gave a secretive smile. “Here we are.”

They had walked some distance and Alex stopped abruptly, perplexed by the neighborhood he found himself in. They’d passed the college dorms and were on a street with rental homes for students. “What?”

“My house. Didn’t you say you’d look over my sketches?” Kyle searched his face. “Did you forget?” The gold flecks in his eyes unsettled Alex even more. He shook his head, unable to think. Kyle was all brilliant light and color, and Alex, in his exhaustion, was overcome by the visual stimuli. “I should go home,” he mumbled.

Kyle took his arm. “Come in just for a minute.”

Alex stumbled inside. A vague uneasiness fluttered in his stomach, but the thought of returning home was suddenly unbearable. He didn’t want to be alone with his fear. And though the horrible images had stopped flashing in his head, he was terrified he’d lose his mind if the images returned, and there was no one around to help him.

Kyle pushed him down on the couch and pressed a glass of wine into his hands. Distraught, Alex watched as he lit a few candles in the room, then drew a bulging portfolio from a cabinet. Alex settled back on the couch with a slight sigh of relief. Kyle hadn’t lied to him after all.

Kyle pulled a chair closer and opened the folder on his lap. He looked up. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Alex leaned forward for a better look. There was definite talent in the sure strokes and firm lines Kyle used in his landscapes. Just then Alex noticed the long fingers holding the paper, and a sudden awareness of the young man flooded through him. He drew back, confused by the unexpected desire leaping to life in him; he wanted those fingers on his skin. He pulled in a desperate breath, fearing the attraction was a warning his body misinterpreted. What was going on? He wanted to run away, but Kyle glanced up, captivating him. He’d always thought Kyle’s eyes were beautiful.

“Kyle,” he began, then his voice trailed off as the silver and blue of Kyle’s aura swirled around both of them. He followed it with his eyes to where it danced across the ceiling, losing the thread of his thoughts in the dazzling imagery.

He cried out when Kyle suddenly dropped the folder and grabbed his arms. The glass fell from his numb fingers and shattered on the hardwood floor. Alex watched, stunned, unable to move, as Kyle pulled a roll of gray tape from under the couch and bound his wrists.

Kyle leaned closer. “Hush. It’ll be fun.”

About the Author Dianne grew up in one of the older homes in the middle of Los Angeles, a place of hardwood floors and secret closets and back staircases. A house where ghosts lurk in the basement and the faces in the paintings watch you walk up the front stairs. Rooms where you keep the closet doors closed tight at night. It’s where her love of the mysterious and wonderful came from. Dianne is the author of m/m romance, paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind.

She now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. Dianne says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee in her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.

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  1. Thank you so much for hosting my Alex today!


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