Please share a little about yourself, your genres,
any other pen names you use.
My name is Skylar, but my pen name is
Emery Skye. I love reading YA paranormal romance and fantasy most, but I enjoy
philosophy and just about everything else too. I’m twenty-four-years old, and
have been writing and telling stories for since I can remember. I’m from
Colorado, born and raised, and recently graduated from Regis University in
Denver. I grew up showing horses and hiking the Rocky Mountains. I have an
amazing little sister and an awesome family.
Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming
release.
I just released my debut novel, Devoted (An Angel Academy Novel). Devoted revolves around the life
of Anna Hasdiel. Anna is an Angel Noviate training at an Academy for angels who
will become either Warriors Legites or Harbingers for the Legion United: The
elite force comprised of Angels from all nine choirs.
Anna excels at living the cookie cutter life of a
noviate on the fast track to being a Legite, but as we all know, things don’t
always go as planned. Noivates disappear from the Academy and there are suspected
murders. Her little sister acts out and eventually they have to travel to the
one place angels are forbidden to go. She never planned for him. Anna will have to make a choice
between her duties: the duty to her heart and her duty as an Angel. What will
she choose?
Have you ever based your book or characters on
actual events or people from your own life?
Yes, oh my goodness yes. The relationship I share
with my little sister is one thing that inspired me to write this novel. I
think everything I’ve written is somehow based on something I’ve experienced of
been witness to.
Is there a theme or message in your work that you
would like readers to connect to?
Family. Most specifically the importance of family
is one theme. Anna lives in a world where family isn’t the most important
thing. Duty is. She’s expected to put her duty as an angel before everything
else, but she struggles with that. Amalie is more than Anna’s sister; she’s her
best friend, confidant, and her inspiration. Amalie is one of the reason Anna
has always worked so hard and she’s the reason Anna finds the light in the
Darkness that’s fighting her.
Balance. One of the overarching themes in my writing
is finding balance. I think we all struggle with that to some degree.
What would your readers be surprised to learn about
you?
I hated reading when I was younger. I struggled so
much and actually had to be tutored all through the second grade, because I was
so far behind. I dreaded reading out-loud and was, actually, made fun of
because I couldn’t sound out words like all the other kids. Thankfully, one of
my teachers (with the help of hooked-on-phonics) was able to get me past the
learning curve. She asked me to write down everything that I could and to read
every chance I got (no matter how hard it was) and I did just that and still
do. No one ever told me to stop J
I think all the hard work and time I invested into reading made me love and
appreciate it that much more.
When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have
any hobbies or guilty pleasures?
Hiking and reading are two of my favorite pastimes.
I also love to ride my horses and have morning coffee chats with my mom and
sister while we play with my nephew, Micah. Micah’s six-months-old right now
and he is such a happy baby! He’s my little buddy J
If this book is part of a series…what is the next
book? Any details you can share?
Devoted
is part of the Angel Academy Series. In the next book, Anna finds herself in
Bethel, the Silver City fighting new battles as the past comes back to haunt
her.
Enoch, the Angel Matatron, has questions for Anna
that she can’t answer. He has a special hatred toward the Watchers as he was
the one in charge of washing the world of them. His son, Shane is a Legite
who’s sole mission is to hunt down the children of the Watchers. He has an
affinity toward finding them, and his radar goes crazy when he’s around Anna.
The search for the truth becomes increasingly
dangerous as the Powers become skeptical about her, and Lucifer continues his
hunt for her. While navigating the labyrinthine of Angel Politics, dodging
attack after attack; not to mention trying to handle her emotions toward Nathan
and Shane; Will Anna discover the piece she plays in this match before it’s too
late?
What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled
upcoming releases or works in progress?
I recently finished Hybrid. Hybrid is a YA Paranormal Romance novel about a girl named
Lexi attending Fairmount Boarding School on an academic scholarship. It’s her
last semester and all she wants is to graduate and become a private detective
with the hopes of finding her parents murderer and finding her missing brother.
Too bad her brother’s already found her and it’s not for a family reunion.
A transfer,
Hunter, starts school and is the thorn in Lexi’s side. She’s his mission, but
he doesn’t know why.
What book are you reading now?
What is in your to read pile?
To many books to list! J
Devoted
Angel Academy
Volume 1
Emery Skye
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Publisher: LemonPress Publishiing
Date of Publication: August 20, 2014
ISBN: 1936617250
ASIN: B00MWZDSM8
Number of pages: 388
Word Count: 96K
Cover Artist: Tamara Sands
Book Description:
“Her world, her mission…is about to change. What do you choose when your blood is on the line.”
A world where your life is a mission and to succeed you must have resolute devotion to duty.
Seventeen-year-old Anna Hasdiel is a noviate at Hope Academy, a secret school for young angels where she and her sister, Amalie, train to become Warrior Legites with the duty of protecting humans from Demons for the Legion United.
Anna's devoted to the angelic cause.
She's always known she would be a Warrior for the Legion. Her world is about to change.
Noviates have been disappearing from Angel Academies around the world. No one knows why. They just hope they won’t be next.
The Powers send in Legite Nathaniel Deror for protection. Legite Deror is strong, fierce and mysterious. He seems to have it in for Anna one second and the next he’s rescuing her. He makes her feel things she shouldn’t.
They must travel to the home of the fallen Archangel Lucifer, where they will fight past a host of deadly enemies. Where do loyalties lay?
She never planned for this. She never planned for him.
Amazon Kindle BN Amazon Print
Excerpt from Chapter 1
I
was enveloped in darkness. I tried to run, but my limbs were frozen. I tried to
scream, but couldn’t. Invisible icy fingers squeezed my throat shut.
It
was happening again.
The
darkness slowly lifted like the curtains on a stage. Only this was anything
but. My surroundings materialized. Large mounds of black rock encircled me.
There were three gloomy, sinister tunnels ahead of me. Orange light flickered
from a few torches held in the mouths of metal brackets on the stone walls. The
shadows they cast licked the sides of the room while air whistled around stone
stalagmites protruding from the ground. I envied the wind. It was free to move,
free to leave. I wasn’t.
The
high back of a scarlet chair with eagle talons for feet faced me. I tried to
shut my eyes. I didn’t want to watch. Like any nightmare I was afraid of what I
would see.
But,
a stronger force was making me watch. Too bad that force wouldn’t get a life.
A
demon hurried around the corner. I studied him as best I could. He wore all
black from his chin to the ground obscuring his feet. The skin on his bald head
appeared pasty white, out of place in the darkness. His head was bowed. I
couldn’t see his face. He was shaking. It made me pity him. It made me think of
somebody having a violent seizure.
Unexpectedly,
a cavernous voice came from the chair and filled the space giving it an
oppressive quality that felt both hot and curiously thick. It made my skin
crawl. I couldn’t see the man responsible for striking fear into the creature.
He was faced away from me. The demon was trying hard to control his movements,
I could tell by the jerking of his arms.
“Shamir,
I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come,” I could practically hear his
jaws grinding together.
The
pale demon looked at the voice in the chair, and I was immediately drawn to his
bottomless eyes. The sorrow I saw made me want to cry and run like a coward.
But,
I quickly realized I had no control in this room. Not of myself or the
unfolding scene. I never did. If it were a normal stage, I’d have the ability
to run onto it, but this wasn’t normal.
Shamir
was gruesome. His face was concave: he had a prominent forehead; six fingers
high, and eyebrows that dipped into his forehead. The nose was small and curved
inward. His chin was also flat, but with an outward curve like a dirt bike
ramp. Deep wrinkles and heavy lacerations marred his already awful features.
His thin lips were tightly stretched into a grimace. Shadows slithered in his
mouth. After an arduous moment, he spoke in a mournful voice.
“Sire,
I came when I could. There is chaos in the Dark World, but,” his hands crossed
in front of his stomach, he fiddled with his thumbs. His nervous energy was a
buzz against my skin.
The
suddenly irate voice from the chair interrupted him. “Silence! Why do I give
such a pitiful creature as you a place on my council? Can you answer me that,
Shamir?”
“Because,
Sire, I am your loyal servant,” he sounded both afflicted and distant. I saw
millennia of anguish in his eyes that had me shaking in my slippers.
“That
you are Shamir... Do you know why I called you to me?” The voice paused
momentarily and then began again, “it is time Shamir. Do you know what time it
is?” Every word dragged on.
“How
can that be sire?” Shamir remained composed; distant, yet, his eyes took on a
fiery glow like an inferno.
“You
must find…”
A
moment of ringing silence passed and my stomach knotted. I strained my ears and
eyes to catch the words... images that blurred at the edges, but it was
useless. My time was up.
Not
yet! I thought furiously, Just a little longer! I need to hear more... just a
little more!
Ring!
Ring! Ring!
I swung my arm around
and hit my alarm clock. Sweat beaded down my head and my clothes were
practically drenched -- I'm sure I looked like I’d been lying in a steam room
all night.
I peeled my down
comforter off my sticky body, planted my feet on the carpet that felt soft and
reached I for the spiral bound notebook laying on my end table. I began jotting
down notes about the dream… or... nightmare.
My mother told
me it would
help me understand them, but it
hasn’t. Night after night I dreamt about the voice in the chair. It made the
hairs on my arms stand at attention and my toes curl. The person in the cave
sometimes changes, but the voice from the red chair never does.
“We’re going to be
late, Anna!” My sister shouted from the other side of my paper-thin door. Her
voice as different than his as night is from day. It warmed my skin like
sunshine.
I shuffled sleepily
into my bathroom. I glanced in the mirror and was slightly horrified, to be
perfectly honest. It’s not like I’m the super girly type, but this took things
to the other extreme. The damn thing was mocking me. My face was shiny, (in the
'I just ate four cheeseburgers' way) and my hair was an absolute freaking rat’s
nest. I quickly turned on my straighter - a present from my sister – (she would
be disgusted by my appearance). It took a while to heat up. In the meantime, I
jumped into the shower that desperately needed some bleach. Small mounds of
black residue sat in the corners of, the otherwise, pristine shower. It wasn’t
much, but enough. I’m a teenager. Cleaning is not my strong suit. This was only
a problem because the Academy was a lot like a military school. Cleaning the
floors with a toothbrush wasn’t far off.
I love steaming hot
showers. My usual shower was about five minutes. Five minute showers were
something that we, my sister and me, learned about by the time we were four. My
mom always told me, “showers aren’t supposed to fun.” Blah, blah, blah. Thus, I
had to learn to love and enjoy the hot, relaxing water, quickly. For me showers
helped drum out the constant thought collisions in my mind. I jumped out of the
shower; I started the slow walk to my shoebox of a closet and was greeted by
the crisp, clean scent as fresh as spring air from an open window.
I looked casually
through my wardrobe that offered a slim selection of worn and practical
clothing. As I sorted through my clothes the feeling of wool, cotton, and denim
rubbed against my hand. I plucked a ball of lint from a violet shirt hanging
crookedly on a wooden hanger and tossed it in the plastic trashcan. I chose a
black long-sleeved V-neck shirt and my favorite pair of loose black cargo
pants. They were comfortable and practical.
The only problem left
was my crazed hair. It looked like a cat had thrown up a fur-ball and it landed
on my head. I took a small chunk of it and began the irritating straightening
process. Gradually, my silky, blonde hair transformed into something slightly
easier on the eyes. I was relieved to see that my skin was clear, and sighed.
My mother always told me that my fair skin was a blessing, but I couldn’t help
the jealously that ate me when I thought of the other girls’ tan skin.
Suddenly, my train of thought was interrupted.
“Anna, hurry up woman!”
Of course, my sister, Amalie, would be up and chipper at this time in the
morning. She was the spirited one. I envied, and sometimes disliked her for
that.
I grabbed my heavy,
black coat. When I inhaled the little hairs from the synthetic fur hood tickled
my nostrils and caused an unladylike sneeze to erupt from my body as I ran
downstairs to the dorm lounge, the free area for noviates. The sound of cutlery
clattering against a table and the murmur of conversation greeted me in the
stairwell.
“Hey, Am,”
I smiled so wide my
cheeks hurt. Just the look of my little sister put me at ease. Mom said it was
a miracle that two sisters could be best friends. It’s understandable that mom
didn’t have a close relationship with her sister
— Aunt Trisha. If I
didn’t know any better, I would say that she was a fiend — or close to it. We
never talked about Aunt Trisha.
The dorm lounge was
like everything at Hope Academy: white, immaculate, and dreadfully boring.
There was a large kitchen with a dozen small, round, white tables dotting the
room. They each had a metallic napkin dispenser in the middle that reflected
the sunlight streaming in through the large bay windows. Old bookcases lined
the perimeter of the room. Every book a noviate could ever want to read was in
the Academy somewhere, or at least I thought so. I hadn’t exactly looked to see
if that was a fact, but I wouldn’t doubt it. That was something that I truly
appreciated—books. Books were my escape. A desperately needed escape from the
excellence demanded by the Academy and that I demanded from myself.
“What took you so
long?” she griped.
I didn’t respond to
Amalie. I was still consumed by the dream. The voice haunted me in my sleep,
and started to haunt me when I was awake. After a moment she chucked a granola
bar in my direction. “Earth to Anna,” she barked.
“Sorry. My hair refused
to cooperate.” I noticed Amalie’s hair always cooperated. Amalie, unlike me,
had dark, thick hair. It wasn’t quite black, but it wasn’t just brown, sort of
chestnut. She was sitting at the kitchen bar with a notebook open. Amalie was
an avid artist. You’d never guess it, because she hid it so well.
“What’s the topic
today?” I asked referring to the artwork of the day…or week.
She glanced down at the
page that had various black lines running across it and shook her head.
“Nothing special,” she told me. I didn’t believe her. The depth of her eyes
told a different story. Amalie could see the beauty in even all the fine,
straight lines of the Academy.
“Okay then,” I
muttered.
She closed the book and
stood up.
She was a slender,
short girl at just over five foot. I had almost six inches on her. Her eyes
gleamed a sapphire blue and changed to an almost indigo color when she was
upset about something. They were a little indigo now. She always dressed
fashionably. Today, she had outdone herself. She looked beautiful in a
glistening white blouse—with just a bit of her nearly non-existent cleavage
revealed — and tight, skinny jeans with knee high black boots. A poet in Chanel
surrounded by robots in Gortex.
“What’s the occasion?
Are you going to a modeling gig?” I asked, laughing.
“Well, actually, no.
You forgot didn’t you?” She was disappointed, chin down down.
“No... no... I didn’t
forget.” I said awkwardly, and too late. I had forgot, and wished I still did.
With my birthday just under a month away, Amalie had been begging to take me to
the new club—the Inferno—and her persistence finally beat me down. “I'm
excited,” I said, trying for glee, but it came out strained, so I gave her a
reassuring smile. Amalie had the attention span of an ant. That worked because
she usually forgot what she was mad about pretty quickly.
“You did too forget.
Lucky for you, I worked way too hard on this outfit to let it go to waste.” She
twirled a few times, watching me, hopeful.
I grabbed her arm,
stopping her from twirling and gave her a big hug. “You’ve worked hard on every
outfit you’ve worn this week. But yes, this one is, by far, the best.” I stood
back like a spectator at an art show and took another good look at my best
friend, confidant, and sister. She smiled back and then pulled me to her. We
held each other briefly. Noviates started passing by and Amalie released me and
went back to her food.
“Thanks, sis. We're
going to have so much fun at the Inferno. I wish were going this weekend!
Everyone says the Inferno is off-the-wall.” She continued to speak; in a
language I didn’t fully understand, while pausing every few words to shovel in
a spoonful of oatmeal. The Inferno was her kind of place, carefree and fun. “I
just can’t believe we haven’t gone yet—”
“Eat much?” Taylor came
around the corner and pulled up a stool on the other side of the island
stroking the white counter with a finger capped by a perfectly manicured nail.
Bleh. Taylor was a superficial beauty even though I hated to admit it. She had
short, brunette, spiky hair, and foxy green eyes that held a spark my dull,
green eyes lacked.
“Don’t be mad ‘cause
I'm skinnier than you, Taylor. Be mad 'cause I don’t need anorexia to pull it off,”
Amalie shot her a haughty look that would make any big sister proud.
Taylor was slender, but
a bit curvier than the rest of us, and had a darker complexion too. Everyone
envied her for looking exotic in a place that made me, and the rest of us, feel
so ordinary. That was probably why she was so popular, that, and she was
reputedly the biggest slut for hundreds of miles. We live in Hope, Alaska for
Power’s sake.
Amalie scanned Taylor
from head to toe with predatory eyes thinned to slits. Amalie had taken it upon
herself to be my sidekick when it came to Taylor, who had insisted on being my
arch nemesis for as long as I could remember.
“You’re not skinnier,
just without essential curves, if you
don’t mind my saying.” She then shifted her attention to me and said, “Only
twenty-five more days till I leave for Bethel.”
She and I were in the
same class at the Academy. Her birthday was before mine, by two days, and she
never let me forget it. When a noviate turned seventeen, they were sent to
Bethel, capital city of The Fourth Dimension, where The Powers resided for a
pronouncement hearing. When noviates returned, everyone else at the Academy looked
him or her at in a new light. It was our first step toward success. It was our
equivalent to a human getting their driver's license. Except if the noviate
failed their “driver’s test” they could never show their face at the DMV again.
The Powers were the
authority of the Archangels and lower angels. The Archangels, unlike other
angels, protected mankind from evil spirits,
also known as demons. There's more. I can explain it,
but politics aren't my thing. Plus, we were taught to do our jobs not ask
questions.
There are seven
angel-training academies around the world; one for each of the seven Archangels
that no one ever actually sees. They are as much a mystery to us as humans, but
we know they exist. They are among the superiors in the Legion United, the
elite fighting force made up of the best angels from the Nine Choirs. The Nine
Choirs were split between three spheres. The first sphere was the Counselors:
Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones. The second sphere was the Governors:
Dominions, Virtues, and the Powers. The third sphere comprised the Harbingers
or Warriors: Principalities, Archangels, and Angels. Everyone was a part of the
whole, and vital to keep the machine operating smoothly. The smallest wrench
could cause disaster.
We were taught that God
created the seven Archangels, then removed Himself and put the Angels in
charge.
She pursed her full
lips with a deeper cupids bow than could possibly shoot an arrow. “I’m more
than ready. Are you?” she baited.
When an Angel Noviate
(AKA angel in training) became a junior, he or she went to Bethel where The
Powers would determine if the noviate would continue until graduation, or if
they would have their wings clipped.
A thin-lipped smile was
my answer. She hung on my last nerve.
Since we are all born into
this life, it only made sense that we were kept close track of by the Powers,
who supervised all the Lower Choir angels to ensure dedication and purity,
meaning that no angel used their abilities against another angel, or any human.
It was uncommon for a noviate to have their wings clipped. Every angel was
needed in the war against demons. However, no one was immune to that outcome,
either. If the noviate’s wings were cut, they would be forced to spend the rest
of their days in the human world, living a mortal life. I cringed at the
thought.
We were constantly at
the mercy of The Powers.
About the Author:
Gemini Emery is a horse trainer living in Colorado with two yappy dogs and a few quirky horses.
She graduated from Regis University with a BS in Business Administration and a minor in philosophy.
A life-long reader, Emery has always had a special affection for the urban fantasy and paranormal romance realms.
When not riding horses or writing, she likes archery, hiking and shooting. She reads until her vision blurs, spends time with family and drinks an excessive amount of chai and coffee.
Devoted is her first novel.
@Emeryskye
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