Reader's Edyn: Blitz: Off Balance (Aunare Chronicles #2) by Aileen Erin

**Off Balance by Aileen Erin**

Good Morning, Everyone! So thrilled to see you all today! We have another new-to-me author and book that releases today! Happy Release Day! Please allow me to feature on the blog Aileen Erin and her latest release, OFF BALANCE … Fair warning – I couldn’t make a decision on which excerpt to use, so you are getting two of them. You’re welcome!

**OFF BALANCE**

**BIO**

Aileen Erin is half-Irish, half-Mexican, and 100% nerd–from Star Wars (prequels don’t count) to Star Trek (TNG FTW), she reads Quenya and some Sindarin, and has a severe fascination with the supernatural. Aileen has a BS in Radio-TV-Film from the University of Texas at Austin, and an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. She lives with her husband in Los Angeles, and spends her days doing her favorite things: reading books, creating worlds, and kicking ass.

To find out more about Ms. Erin, please visit:

**OFF BALANCE**

Publication date: February 11, 2020

Series: Aunare Chronicles #2

Published By: Ink Monster LLC
Genres: Dystopian, Young Adult

**BLURB**

From USA Today Bestselling Author Aileen Erin comes the second book in the Aunare Chronicles.

Broken, beaten-down, and plagued by nightmares, Amihanna di Aetes is surrounded by the Aunare race that makes up the other half of her heritage, but she feels alien amongst them. She’s not sure which is worse: SpaceTech’s overt hatred of Aunare or the Aunare’s covert hatred of halfers. She hears their whispers whenever she enters a room and sees her death reflected in their eyes. Amihanna doesn’t know who to trust anymore, but she hasn’t survived this long by ignoring the warning signs all around her, especially when her instincts are screaming that a familiar choice is coming: flee or fight.

Her parents assure her everything is okay—that there won’t be any reason for her to fight, let alone flee—but with Amihanna’s sudden return, questions arise among the Aunare: who should be blamed for the start of a full-scale war with SpaceTech, how much danger will the war bring, and is Amihanna truly fit to be the next high queen?

Honestly, Amihanna wants to forget all the politics, her betrothal to Lorne, and the possibility of being queen. Her needs are much more basic. All she wants is a solid night’s sleep where she doesn’t wake up screaming with the phantom pain of her skin burning. All she needs is to live without fear of a mob tearing her away from her family. All she hopes for is a chance to dream of a future instead of constantly fighting for her right to live.

And yet, somehow, everything she does leads her back to Lorne. He always seems to know when she’s about to break under the pressures of her new life. His quiet patience is wearing Amihanna’s protective walls down, and she’s terrified of what will happen if they fall.

**EXCERPT 1**

“Let’s get this one thing straight—I’m not breaking our betrothal contract.” He stalked back to me. “Not now. Not ever. If you want to break it, then we’ll discuss it. They’ve talked a lot about our contract on the news, so I’m sure you have it in your head that I’m planning on breaking it. But I’m not. I haven’t brought it up because you’ve been dealing with enough. I was giving you time, but I’d marry you tomorrow if I thought you’d agree.”

Tomorrow? I had zero clue before this moment that he was completely insane. He couldn’t marry me, especially not tomorrow. I couldn’t be queen.

“What if I want to break our betrothal?” I wasn’t sure I did, but I wasn’t sure I didn’t either.

He strode quickly to me, knelt in front of my chair. I hugged my legs tighter to my chest, but he grabbed my ankles. “Look at me.”

I looked everywhere but him.

“Look at me, please.” He squeezed my ankles and let go. “Please.”

I blew out a breath and rested my chin on my knees so that I could meet his gaze. It was hard to really look at him. Every time I did, I wanted him more and more, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could want him without becoming completely addicted. It took everything in me not to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me.

He let go of one ankle and cupped my cheek. “Do you want to marry me?” He was using his low voice, the one that set my skin on fire.

My skin was so bright and my stomach fluttered and flipped and I forced myself to choke down my first immediate response. The dumb one that wanted to slide past my lips effortlessly. I couldn’t answer his question because I didn’t trust myself to give him the right answer. The one that made sense.

All signs of anger melted away from him. His back straightened, he held his head high, his fao’ana stopped flashing, and his skin dimmed a little.

But it was his smile that told me he knew exactly what I’d been thinking.

“This is where being your shalshasa comes into play. I’m as sensitive to frequencies as you are, but even more attuned to yours. I can feel your frequencies as your moods shift. Your immediate answer was going to be yes before you got scared.” He rose just a little, cupping my face with both his hands, and all I could see were his aquamarine eyes.

The color I associated with calm and safety. The color I’d painted the walls in my room on Earth so that I could feel more at home. The color I wanted to get lost in forever.

He brushed a soft kiss on my lips. It was quick, too quick, and it left me wanting more.

“Until you can say no—honestly and without stress—I’m going to assume your answer is yes, and that you just need more time. I don’t want fear to be a part of your decision. Okay?”

He leaned in for another kiss, and I wanted. I wanted it more than anything. But I made myself lean back in the chair, pulling my face from his hands.

“I can’t do this.” The words were shaky, but I’d said them. I had to stop it before this went too far.

“Why?”

“Because…” There were too many reasons.

Because he needed a queen.

Because I didn’t want that much responsibility.

“Because you deserve someone not broken.” That wasn’t the one I meant to go with, but words slipping out of me seemed to be the theme for our little chat.

“You’re not broken. If anything, you’re confused. Which is totally understandable. You’ve been through a very rough thirteen years, and memories that would help you readjust to being home aren’t there. So, you need some time to heal. Which is what I’ve been giving you. I think you’d feel less fragile if you got a decent night’s sleep. If you ate more. If you took a moment to take care of yourself instead of spending twenty hours a day in the gym. Declan and his mission are going to kill you.”

**EXCERPT 2**

“What did he say to you?” He didn’t need to name who he meant. I knew.

When I didn’t say anything, he dropped his head again. “Please.”

I didn’t see any good coming from telling him what his father said to me. I stayed frozen in my spot as I watched him. “It really doesn’t matter. Knowing won’t change anything.”

He stood slowly. “It matters. I know it had to have been horrible.”

If he wasn’t taking no for an answer, then I had to give him the best non-answer I could and then change the subject. “He didn’t say anything that I didn’t already know. You don’t have to worry about—”

His skin flashed bright, and he stepped toward me. I could feel his anger flowing off of him, and I knew I had to say the right thing, or he’d lose it completely. But what good would come from Lorne knowing that his father had propositioned me? And I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if Lorne thought I was worthy or not. If I was, then that made everything more complicated. And if not, then my self-esteem might take a hit. It was a solid lose-lose.

I licked my lips, trying to give myself time to come up with something to say—the right words that would help him out—but my best bet was to pivot the subject at least a little. “Your father’s a mess. At first, I thought he was drunk—”

“He was absolutely wasted. He’s smart and cunning—no matter what state he’s in. What did he say?” Lorne took another step toward me.

I took a small step back. Okay. New subject. “Why haven’t you taken over for him yet?”

“Because I needed you back first. What did he say?” He took another step toward me.

I took a step back. “Me? That’s…” Stupid? Idiotic? Dumb? I couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t be insulting. “Why did you need me back?”

He gave me a moaning sigh. “Because.” He sighed one more time. “Because I didn’t trust myself not to give SpaceTech whatever they wanted just so that I could have the freedom to go back to Earth and search for you myself. I knew you were there somewhere—alive and scared—and if I had even the smallest bit of power, I would’ve used it to get you back.”

What? That made no sense. “You couldn’t possibly care about some girl you knew over a decade ago to give up—”

“You are my shalshasa.” He stomped toward me, nearly closing the distance between us. “It makes complete sense.”

I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry or scream, but damn it—I didn’t understand. We weren’t even speaking the same language.

Plarsha was right. I had to ask him. Instead of taking another step back, I took a step toward him.

I was going to get my answer. Now. Tonight. “Everyone refers to me as your shalshasa, and I have no clue what it means. I don’t understand other than that we’re betrothed, but—”

His eyes were wider than I’d ever seen. All the anger—along with his glow—seemed to drain away from him. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

My ignorance was about to hurt him—and I hated that—but I hated my ignorance more. “My mind was wiped. I don’t have my memories.” I didn’t get why this was so hard for people to understand, but apparently, it was. “I don’t know what shalshasa means or why it’s important or why everyone keeps calling me that. The translator tonight turned it into mirror soul—as if that makes any sense at all—but I still don’t understand. I feel lost and confused all the time, and if I knew what that word really meant, then maybe I would know at least one little piece of who I’m supposed to be and why I’m such a fucking disappointment to everyone.” I shoved him, but he didn’t even move an inch. “Answer the question. What the hell does shalshasa mean?”

“I…” He closed his eyes. “I…” His throat moved as he swallowed. “I’m sorry. I need a second. I’ll answer you. Of course, I will. I just need a second to process. You’ve just shredded me, and I feel like a fool for not understanding sooner. You must be so—”

Damn. I knew this was going to hurt him. I backed away from him. “I shouldn’t have asked.” Everything I did and said was the wrong thing, and that was more frustration than I could take tonight. “Forget—”

“No. I won’t forget. We will deal with this together like two shalshasa should.”

I was going to kill Plarsha the next time I saw her. She planted the idea that I should ask him, and now this was about to be a total shit show. I could already tell.

Lorne gave a crazed, half-laughed, half-cry, and he looked frantic as he shoved his hands through his hair and paced away from me. “Goddess. It’s like my heart keeps getting ripped from my chest in a fun new way every day, and you don’t even know you’re doing it.”

Shit. I’d really fucked this up. “I’m sorry. Can we just forget—”

“Don’t apologize for something that was done to you when you were a child.” His fao’ana flickered, but as he turned to me, the flickering faded and died. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…I’ve never had to explain it before.” He closed the distance between us and gripped my hands in his. “Answer me one question first.”

The way his hands gripped mine and the way he was looking down at me made my skin glow. But that was okay because his was glowing, too. “Okay.”

“Be honest. No lies.”

I stared into his aquamarine eyes and nodded. I couldn’t lie to him. Not really. Not when he was so upset.

“How do you feel about me?”

I was dumbstruck again. Same as with Plarsha. Nothing came out. No words. No thoughts. But a single tear slipped free, rolling down my cheek.

Buy Links