Friday, July 18, 2014

Gathering Water
By Regan Claire
Release date: January 26th 2014

Book Description

Della Doe Deare isn't like most people. Most people begin their life on the day they enter the world; the day they're born. Della, well, hers began on the day she turned eighteen. After all, it was the day she first heard her real name, and that of her mother. With nothing but a couple of duffel bags and a folder full of questions, she travels to coastal North Carolina to claim a house that she inherited from a grandmother she never knew. 

She has two goals: discover why her mother ran away from home all those years ago, and avoid the family that had left her to rot in an inept foster care system. Hard to do when the family she's been trying to avoid is dragging her into an unimaginable world... a world on the brink of war, and both sides want her dead. 

All Della ever wanted was to know who she was, but her journey to self-discovery might just lead to destruction.

My Review

This is the first book by Regan Claire that I have read and I was intrigued by the storyline. I’ve read quite a few paranormal books but this one was a little more unique.

Della discovers that her life isn’t quite what it seems. She learns that she isn’t all alone in the world and even though she at first wants to forget everything she’s just learned she ends up traveling to meet her long lost family and the house that was left behind. I can understand why Della is a little standoffish to begin with because she wonders why no one bothered to try and find her. Did they know about her?

Soon, Della learns that there is more to her life than she could ever imagine. Along with her newly discovered relatives (and a possible love interest?!) she begins the journey of discovering what her mother may have been trying to protect her from.


Unsurprisingly, I woke up fairly early the next morning. The method of waking, however, was surprising. Some girls might find the idea of being woken up by a good-looking guy appealing. However, being poked in the ribs by some monstrous huge feet while in a deep sleep is not my idea of a good way to start your day. I, of course, have had experience being woken up very suddenly by unwanted males and didn’t hesitate to grab my still-on lantern by the handle and start beating the stranger as high as my arm would reach, and as quickly as my arm would allow. My arm just so happened to be just the right, or wrong, length to do some serious damage. “Holy mother of—what are you doing ? You crazy b—” and before he had the chance to call me a very ungentlemanly name, he collapsed to his knees grasping at the very tender bits I had just pummeled with my light. I jumped up, my blood rushing and holding my bright yellow lantern like it was a loaded gun and glared down at the yellow-haired fool who dared try to attack me. He looked about my age, and I clutched my lantern tighter when I saw he was in good shape and could probably overpower me if he tried to. Looking back, I may have overreacted just a touch. Not that I’ll ever admit that out loud. “What are you doing here? What do you want?” I managed to get out in between puffs of air. “What am I doing here? You crazy person, what are you doing here? This is someone’s home, not some empty warehouse that you can squat in! Jesus, I can’t feel my legs and I have a date tonight!” He started to stand up, in obvious pain, and I felt a twinge of guilt. Well, I did before his grey, accusatory eyes met mine and reminded me that I hadn’t actually done anything wrong. “I’m not squatting. This is my house. I own it. Do you always just barge into people’s homes and wake up the occupants for no good reason?” “I know for a fact that you do not own this house,” he said. “Well, you clearly need a fact-checker because I do, you idiot. Now get out!” I pointed my free arm in the direction of the door. “You can’t make me get out of a house that you’re pretending to own. There’s no “finders keepers” when it comes to real estate. I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t leave.” This guy was seriously starting to annoy me.

About the Author

A Tidewater girl born and bred, Regan Claire's first friend and love was the Atlantic. Growing up being told the legends about Pirates and American Natives common in coastal VA and NC, coupled with being an only child, did wonders for her imagination; Regan had one foot in fantasy-land ever since, a trait her dear husband heroically endures (and one she secretly hopes her daughters have inherited). Her family moved inland to Nashville while she was entering tweenhood and not a day went by that she didn't miss her childhood playmate and her crashing waves. Nashville has her perks though, namely the love of Regan's life and their two sweet girls. Their insane mutt-dog and the stray cat that refuses to leave their porch aren't too bad either. Regan loves fairytales A LOT, teen movies (preferably with dancing or singing), reads entirely too much, and is constantly late.

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