Salt to Skye by Adriane Leigh
Series: Legends and Lovers Series
Genres: Fantasy, Paranormal Romance
From USA Today bestselling author Adriane Leigh comes a novel woven with madness, revenge, tragedy, and the everlasting spirit of love.
Fable Prescott believes two lies. The first, that she was chosen at random for the summer study abroad program at her university, and the second, that she came to the wind-whipped Isle of Skye to research her family's mysterious Scottish ancestry. She never expected to find herself embroiled in a cold case that has kept a tiny seaside village on edge for years.
When another woman vanishes into thin air, Fable begins to wonder if there is more to the dark legends that cling to the island like a cold ocean mist. And if her brooding, devastatingly handsome new neighbor, Alder, is the only one that holds the key to her family's tragic past.
LEGENDS AND LOVERS is a collection of dark legends and star-crossed love stories from twenty bestselling authors. Woven with mystery and magic, love and lore, romance and suspense, this multi-author collaboration promises to make your heart pound and keep you reading late into the night. Discover all the books in the series at legendsandlovers.com.
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I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed are my own. I receive no compensation for reviews.
Fable Prescott headed to Scotland to find out what really happened to her Great Aunt. Women have gone missing from Leith Hall Heathermoor Abbey on the Isle of Skye and Fable is determined to figure out what is going on. Not to mention write her senior thesis on everything she discovers. Sounds easy enough right? What Fable doesn’t take into account is that maybe she is there to meet her soulmate who has wait centuries for her to remember.
I am going to say this is going to be a book that you will either love or hate. If you like the paranormal, fantasy romance then this may be just the book for you. It is a complex story that will keep entertained and turning the pages long into the night.
EI feel her before I see her.
I can’t explain this thing between us, why I keep showing up when she needs it most, but it’s real and I’m a slave to follow the instinct.
The instinct that always leads me to her.
I’ve been trying my best to keep our unusual connection low-key, but she never makes it easy. She seems to find herself in the most unlikely places at the most unfavorable times.
Like right now.
I groan as she picks her way along the edge of the seaside cliff. The mist clings to her pale nightdress; the soft fabric is almost sheer as the silver moonbeams cut across her form. My heart is so rattled by her presence, it takes everything in me to resist going to her. My instincts tell me to wrap her in my arms, lock her in the keep of Leith Hall and throw away the key if that’s what it takes to keep her safe, but I know that won’t work. Not this time. Fable is headstrong; it’s what landed her in the loch without breath in her lungs. It’s what brought me to her the first time, and it’s what brings me to her now.
She’s determined to find the truth; I’ll give her that. I imagine she’s just spent the night reading more of the books Keats recommended, the ones I insisted she start with if she has any hope of solving Skye’s oldest cold case. Fable’s great-aunt’s disappearance is famous around here, but they all are. The girls who vanish from this island are all of a type—young, naïve, headstrong, and heart-stopping in their beauty.
Fable fits the mold perfectly, and it terrifies me.
Spending time with Harris won’t end well. I can already see the epic crash and burn in my mind’s eye. She doesn’t know it, but I can sense it coming from a thousand years away. Fable, on the other hand, seems unable to sense anything. Her senses are dulled to the force this island has on people, the way the mist bends the perspective and twists the thoughts. Humans aren’t meant to be so isolated, and Fable is already suffering the effects. Leith is a rambling, imposing monster of cobbled-together ruins and dark, damp corridors. It’s no place for a woman as soft and sweet as she is, but then, there’s nothing I can say that will convince her of that.
Only that I’ll take care of her if she can’t do it herself.
She must hate me for being so abrasive, but I can’t think of another way to make her understand that she’s playing with fire when she asks for the truth.
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