Blog Tour Excerpt & Giveaway - The Concealed by Sarah Kleck

The Concealed
Author: Sarah Kleck
Publication date: November 1st, 2015
Genres: Paranormal, Romance, Young Adult

Book Description:
“Can you be happy when what you desire most means your doom?”

Evelyn Lakewood, an orphan, is crushed after the death of her beloved sister Zara. But the nineteen-year old enrolls in Psychology at Oxford in honor of Zara.

There, Evelyn first becomes friends with vivacious Sally and seemingly charming Felix. But the encounter with Jared Calmburry, whose incredibly blue eyes immediately captivate her, fundamentally changes her life. She is instantly drawn to this mysterious stranger around whom unusual things happen and who simply disappears every time Evelyn tries to confront him about his puzzling behavior. After finding a mysterious book with a unique symbol on its leather cover in the university library, her curiosity is perked. She doesn’t know what to make of it but Jared’s best friend Colin Sullivan encourages her with cryptic hints to continue her search for evidence. When she discovers the same medieval symbol is worn by hostile professor Karen Mayflower and engraved on another faculty member’s seal ring, she realizes that an ancient secret surrounds Jared.

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Excerpt

Light shone through the curtain and gently woke me.

Where am I? Suddenly I remembered—I was in my dorm room in Oxford. What time is it? I reached for the alarm clock on the nightstand. It wasn’t there. Damn! It was probably in my suitcase. I sat up and realized I was still wearing my clothes from the day before. A glance at my phone told me it was a little after 7:30. My first lecture started at 8:00, and I didn’t have a clue where I was supposed to be.

Great, that’s a nice start!

There was no time to shower, so I just brushed my teeth and splashed a little water on my face to wake up. Since I couldn’t find my hairbrush, I ran my fingers through my hair and put it in a ponytail.

I slipped my black boots on, threw on my coat, grabbed my bag, and rushed out the door.

It was 7:50 a.m. as I charged across the frozen cobblestones of downtown Oxford. I turned a corner and stopped in my tracks. I thought I’d just seen a man out of the corner of my eye—a man with black leather gloves and a blank expression. I spun around, eyes wide, but I saw only an ordinary streetlight. I was starting to worry that I was losing my mind. What would this guy want in Oxford, two hundred miles from where I last saw him? That was completely absurd. I banished the thought and continued walking. I had a blue folder with all the papers I needed for the first day, and I pulled it out of my bag to see where my first lecture was.

While I ran through the mighty gate of Tom Tower, the main entrance of Christ Church College, and across the courtyard, I scanned the documents in the folder and finally found my schedule.

Monday, 8:00 a.m., lecture: Narcissism and Destructiveness, Professor Carl Bronsen, hall 7.

Where the heck is hall 7?

“Can I help you? You look lost.” A young woman with a Burberry scarf and shoulder-length red hair smiled at me.

“Yes,” I said. “I have to be in hall 7 in five minutes—do you know where that is?”

“Narcissism and Destructiveness with Bronsen?”

“Yes, exactly,” I said, relieved. Obviously, she knew her way around.

“Then you’d best turn here,” she said and pointed in the direction. “Turn right again after about a hundred yards or when you reach the small fountain, then go all the way to the top of the stairs and you’ll be at the door.”

I tried to memorize the route, thanked her, and ran off.

“No problem,” she called after me, sounding as if she couldn’t suppress her laughter.

I almost thought I’d run too far when I finally arrived at the small fountain. Then I turned right, ran up the stairs, and stopped abruptly as I found myself outside the dining hall. I frowned and looked around for hall 7. No, this was definitely the dining hall. There were no lecture halls here.

I took my phone out of my bag—it was 8:05.

Did I turn too early? Did the redhead make a mistake? I was definitely in the wrong place. I remembered that I had a map of the campus and went through my folder until I found it.

Okay, let’s see . . . This is the dining hall, there’s the small fountain that I came by, and that should be hall 7.

I traced my recent route on the map with my finger, and then it hit me. That redhead bitch deliberately sent me in the wrong direction when I had already been standing in front of the entrance to hall 7!

I ran back all the way, slipping on the ice and nearly falling. I arrived to the lecture hall out of breath.

I was almost twenty minutes late.

Damn! I breathed deeply and slipped through the door as quietly as possible. I tiptoed in, trying not to attract attention. Then I saw an empty seat in the last row. Perfect. So far almost no one had noticed. I pushed down the wooden seat and sat on it, relieved, until the seat collapsed under me and I crashed to the floor with a dull thud. A word I never used in public escaped my lips.

At once I felt heat spread across my face and color my cheeks bright red.

This can’t be happening, I thought and carefully pulled myself up. When I looked around, I saw to my horror that almost every head in the lecture hall—and there were at least fifty—was turned my way; I wanted to disappear. Suddenly the ceiling light flickered. Something was probably wrong with it, and fortunately that drew the attention away from me. I looked around embarrassed. The contents of my bag were scattered on the floor. I started collecting my things and attempted to ignore the malicious giggling and a sarcastic “Everything all right, Blondie?” It was the redhead, who now looked down on me from her seat—with no intention of hiding her malice.

Oh God, this can’t be happening!

Suddenly a slim hand with short, brightly colored nails held out my copy of Erich Fromm’s Anatomy of Human Destructiveness. Gentle gray-green eyes met my glance.

“Did you hurt yourself?” the girl sincerely asked, smiling broadly, the stud in her right nostril gleaming. She had a heart-shaped face framed by hair dyed dark red and violet.

“No, I’m all right,” I said and hastily added, “Thank you.”

“There’s an empty seat next to me,” she whispered after we had collected my things. And now that we were standing opposite each other, I noticed how petite she was—at most five foot three, because I was taller by at least four inches. She had noticeable breasts, considering her delicate figure. I nodded and followed her. The professor had reluctantly stopped his lecture and was shaking his head, clearly angered by the disturbance I’d caused.

“Eyes to the front, show’s over,” he said, admonishing his students to concentrate.

After thoroughly checking the stability of the seat, I sat down beside my helper and, although I was sure the worst was over, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Searching for the cause of my discomfort, I raised my head—and saw . . . him. His glowing dark-blue eyes were still fixed on me while all the others were looking forward. I felt hypnotized.

About the Author

Sarah Kleck, born in 1984, studied Education, Psychology and Sociology at the University of Augsburg. Currently, she’s working as a human resources officer and lives with her husband and a newborn in Germany near Lake Constance. 

“The Concealed” is her first novel.

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