Forbidden Secrets Revealed
The Forbidden Trilogy, an award-winning YA paranormal
romantic thriller by Kimberly Kinrade, is now complete with the launch of the
third and final book, Forbidden Life.
Described as "thrilling, dark and deeply
romantic" (Refracted Light YA
Reviews) with a "plot that is
very ALIAS and DARK ANGEL-like with X-MEN as its backdrop" (Sour Skittles Book Blog), the Forbidden
Trilogy tells the story of a group of paranormal teens raised in a secret
school and rented out as spies to the rich.
When Sam, a
girl who reads minds, meets Drake, a boy who controls minds, they discover a
deep secret that could destroy everything and everyone they love. Together,
they must escape and save their friends, before it's too late.
In Forbidden Life, all the secrets of this
corrupt organization are revealed, with more page-turning twists and
nail-biting mystery than ever before.
This series "has romance, mystery, action and
suspense that will keep you hooked from beginning till end." ~Nickle Love
About Forbidden Life
The
road to redemption begins in darkness.
A
sinister force waits for them in darkness, ready to devour their powers and
take their lives.
Sam's
baby is the key to a lock that must never be opened. To keep her child safe,
she will do anything.
Drake
might have found a way to get his powers back and save his family, but at what
cost?
Luke
and Lucy uncover secrets in an organization they thought they could trust, and
the lives of all Rent-A-Kid children are at stake.
In
this last Forbidden Trilogy installment, the secrets to Rent-A-Kid will finally
be revealed.
Read an excerpt of Forbidden Life
Drake slugged another mouthful of cheap vodka and waited for
the burn to dull his pain. The abandoned apartment building he'd holed-up in
stank like shit and piss and vomit, but he didn't care. He sat on an old
mattress with his back against the wall and watched the void where a door had
once hung.
Every second of existence tore at him until even alcohol
couldn't bury the feelings. The place in his chest where his powers had once
lived now felt empty, like the core of a rotten apple. Even when Dr. Pana had
tied him to a hospital bed and drained him of his powers, he hadn't felt this
helpless. There, he'd known it would end. His powers hadn't been destroyed,
just blocked. He hadn't felt empty, just useless.
He'd been so naive to think it couldn't have gotten any
worse.
Sam was out there somewhere, fighting to keep their baby
safe while her father still hunted her.
And what am I doing, loser that I am? Running away. What good am I without my
powers? I couldn't keep them safe, so they were better off without me.
The lies he told himself did nothing to silence the guilt.
When he'd drained the last drop of vodka from his bottle, he
smashed it against the wall, and left his hiding spot to search for more. He
counted the money he had left: five dollars and some change. What the hell
could he buy with five bucks? Nothing strong enough to get the job done, that
was for sure.
The moon hung heavy in the sky as Drake walked the empty
streets. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sun. It seemed a
lifetime ago. Memories of warm rays and the splash of cold salt water haunted
him. Vampires lived like this for centuries, outcasts relegated to the shadows
of life. Drake finally understood why these beings fascinated so many people.
Their plight gave form to the empty death that lived inside him.
A homeless man's cough brought him back to the present. The
man sat against a garbage dumpster, tucked under a newspaper blanket. Drake
didn't care about the smell or the trash; he only noticed the paper bag-wrapped
bottle in the man's hands.
He mustered as much authority as he could now that he'd lost
his powers of mind control. "I'll give you five bucks for that bottle."
The man looked up at Drake and back down at the bottle. His
face looked like an ancient map that had been written on so many times the
lines all blurred together. He smacked his lips, took another swig and then
held the bottle out with a cackle.
Before Drake could take it, the man yanked it back and
rubbed his fingers together in the universal sign for money.
Drake sighed and pulled out the last of his cash.
They traded at the same time, and the man cackled again as
he stuck the money into some hidden compartment in his clothes.
The bottle felt light. Too light. Drake tilted it to his
lips, but only a drop of amber liquid fell into his mouth. Rage fed him as he
threw the bottle to the right of the man's head.
The man cried out as jagged bits of glass flew into his
face. Drake lifted his fist to punch him, but the man held up his arms and
squealed. Fear filled his eyes, and his lips smacked together. When his mouth
opened, Drake saw why the man didn't speak.
He had no tongue.
Drake's anger drained out of him in a flash, and he slumped
against the trash bin. Could he really beat a helpless man because he'd stolen
five dollars?
The man pulled out the money and gestured for Drake to take
it back, but Drake ignored him and ran down the street and around a corner.
He pushed his body to run as fast and as hard as he could.
Lack of food and too much alcohol had made him slow—weak—but he didn't stop.
His lungs burned, his muscles weakened to the point of collapse, but still he
ran.
He turned down an alley and stopped. Three men beat a
scrawny blond-haired boy to the ground.
The biggest man, inked up like a gangsta and wearing pants
too big for him, punched the kid in the face and screamed, "You better
give me those vials, you piss-ant little shit, or I'll beat you until you can't
walk. That drug is worth more than your life, so hand it over."
His two lackeys circled the boy, kicking him and egging on
their leader.
The boy cried and curled into a ball. He couldn't have been
older than twelve. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have
anything."
Another punch. "Yo, my homey here saw you. So don't be
lying to us. We got to account for all those vials, and you don't even know
what you got messed up in. Those drugs, they seriously mess people up—like,
superpowers and shit. I'm not letting some piece of shit like you stop me from
doing my job. Hand 'em over."
The boy couldn't take it much longer, but Drake wasn't a
superhero anymore. Still, this drug had him curious. Could there be a drug that
brought out para-powers?
He charged in, pushing back the three gangsters and pulling
the kid out of the way. "Run!"
The fight was a blur. Drake had neither super strength nor
mind control. His basic skill and strength bought him a few minutes, but in the
end the street thugs overwhelmed him.
After too many blows to count, they left him lying in the
alley, bleeding and aching with broken ribs. Drake coughed, and blood spewed
out of his mouth. Maybe worse than just
broken ribs.
He pulled himself to the wall and tried to sit up, but the
pain stopped him. Every move seemed to cause a new break or tear in his
now-fragile body. Before he could make it to the wall, a new kind of darkness
wrapped around him, and he faded into nothing.
Seduction comes in many forms. 
