Also by this author: Odium II, Limerence 2, Odium Origins. A Dead Saga Novella. Part Two
On route to find their friends, Nina and Michael find so much more.
After almost being killed by the Hell’s Highwaymen—a fifty strong motorcycle gang, Nina and Michael are forced to take refuge at their headquarters until Michael recovers.
Finding a new purpose in life isn't easy, but Nina is realizing that she's stronger than she believes and needed more than she knows. At least, that’s what Shooter—the brutish, blue-eyed president of the biker gang, keeps telling her.
Meanwhile, Mikey is trapped in the candy store. Phil is gone, so is O’Donnell, and who knows what’s happened to Ricky. All Mikey knows is that he’s in for a whole world of pain unless he can think of a way to escape before Tim and Clare turn him into their lunch.
With both of their lives hanging in the balance and heading in completely different directions, Nina and Mikey drift further apart. And it’s not just distance that separates them.
Because when your fates keep pulling you away from one another, maybe it’s time to just call it a day and move on.
Part five in the bestselling Dead Saga series
The Odium series keeps getting better and better. Not every series can sustain itself through five installments, but Odium V most definitely can and does. Every book in the series introduces us to new and exciting characters while keeping us attached in love and/or hate relationships with the ones who are already in our lives.
We are seeing more and more similarities to the personalities of Nina and Mikey. Though they are on different paths, they seem to be experiencing the same feelings of guilt and shame over the things they have encountered. I honestly haven’t always been Nina’s biggest fan. For quite a while, I thought she was just a whiney baby who had gotten lucky enough times to keep surviving. She has grown on me. While I can’t say I love her as much as I do some of the other characters in the series, I definitely have more of an understanding and respect for her, even when I think she’s being a dumbass. She seems to be finally finding her purpose, which is a very good thing.
Claire C. Riley seems to keep finding new and exciting ways to keep this story going. Odium V is filled with all kinds of situations we haven’t seen in previous books. We are seeing just how deceiving appearances can be more and more. I like how some of the characters who were previously strangers are all still connected and intersecting at the necessary times and all that good stuff.
Overall, Odium V doesn’t disappoint. The world of Odium continues to excite and disgust me, just as a zombie apocalypse should. I’m going to be sad one day when it finally ends, but hopefully that won’t be for a very long time.
Other books by Claire:
Excerpt from Odium V.
“We’re not friends,” he replies, his tone even and calm. And I can’t deny that the comment hurts.
“That was mean.”
“Not trying to be, but we’re not friends. I don’t do friends.”
“Me neither,” I reply, thinking of all the people that I’ve gotten close to in the last year and then thinking of how many are actually still alive.
“People piss me off too much. Always so self-absorbed and obnoxious.” He shakes his head. “It’s a world of selfie-taking, reality tv wannabes. Pathetic!”
“Not anymore,” I reply.
Michael smiles, and it seems pretty genuine. “Best thing about the apocalypse if you ask me.”
“Jesus, you’re seriously disturbing, you know that?” I roll my eyes. “I thought I was bad, but I’m a saint compared to you. I mean, why do you always have to be so grumpy? Who stole your kitten as a child?” I look out the side window, seeing deader movement in the tree line. A scraggly old deader stumbles out from between the trees, the tattered remains of what was a white wedding dress still clinging to her emaciated body, and for a moment I can imagine who she was—who she had been.
I see her, this once-beautiful woman with her long blond hair trailing down past her shoulders, and small white flowers threaded through it. Pink lips, smoky dark eyes, and a heart filled with hope and love.
And then this had happened.
The end of the world.
And now she was dead. Her new husband more than likely dead. And her future…her plans, and hopes and dreams…all dead too. But hey, at least it’s one less selfie taker to worry about, right?
I can’t tear my gaze away from Shooter’s. His whole body is trembling with untamed rage, and I realize that I’ve never seen someone look so furious—with me, or with anyone else. My heart is in my throat when he thrusts out his hand to me, and I tentatively take it.
He grabs hold of my hand and pulls me up in one quick movement, and then I’m being pulled against his hard chest and his hands are in my hair, pushing it back from my face so he can get a good look at me. I’m weak-kneed and shaking, and this time it’s a mixture of everything that makes me shake—a little of the adrenaline wearing off, a little of shock from the many people I just killed, and a lot to do with the way he’s looking at me right now.
It’s somewhere between anger and lust.
“I told you to lock yourself in your room. You could have been killed,” he growls out.
I open my mouth to say something back, but he silences me with his mouth roughly pressing against mine. The air is sucked from my lungs as he kisses me, hard, his arms holding me roughly against his body. I don’t kiss him back, though I can’t say I don’t want to. But he takes what he needs from that kiss and he gives me something indescribable back with it. When he pulls away I feel weak, like he just took away all of my strength.
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, the world continuing on, and us oblivious at the death and the destruction littered at our feet.
“You and me, Nina, we’re two of a kind. We crave the violence while still searching for the peace, and one day you’re going to kiss me back,” he says, sucking in his lower lip and releasing it again. “One day soon.”
Violence, anger, love, lust. It gets to a point where it all mingles into one. I do crave the violence, almost as much as I crave the love. But I think that’s what makes me human. I need both of those things to still feel alive. I need theextreme.
And if Shooter is anything, it’s extreme in every sense of the word.
Copyright Claire C. Riley 2017