When not writing or doing book covers, Tatiana Vila can be found binge-watching series, painting cool abstract stuff, eating way too many candies, and fantasizing about interior design makeovers. Her motto: let the mind run wild.
Check out some of her cool book cover designs at her website:
www.viladesign.net

An ancient book, a seventeen-year-old girl and an exotic boy from a supernatural world hold the key to freedom for a long-oppressed race, but that freedom could come at the cost of the human world.

Seventeen-year-old Kalista is suffering from a broken heart, so when her playwright father proposes they move their lives from New York to New Mexico because he is in need of inspiration Kalista is 100% on-board with him. New Mexico proves to be the perfect balm for her wounds and she is just starting to feel some of her old spunk when Tristan Winfield comes into her life and pulls all of her barriers down. Kalista is captivated by Tristan's unusual silver eyes and feels an inexplicable connection to him, which begins to manifest itself in her dreams with bizarre images of a waterfall and an orb.

While searching for an explanation for her troubling dreams, Kalista discovers an ancient book which holds the secrets of a supernatural race of creatures. But when Killings hit town, she realizes her finding has come at a high price. She's in the middle of a power struggle now, a struggle that seems to be linked to the secret wrapped within the pages of that book. A secret she and Tristan are part of...



The Ylem Trilogy

Tristan was alone. There was no derisive nymph around. "Vincent said you wanted to talk to me," I said, stepping inside the archaic room.


He hesitated a few seconds and turned around, his face hard. "This place is more private."


I stopped several feet away from him, locking my eyes with his. "What's going on, Tristan?"


"Kalista." He stepped closer, opening his mouth to say something. He raised his hand and brushed his thumb against my cheek, his eyes glistening. The golden light from above made them a sparkly shade of sadness, agony even, as if touching me hurt him. And the persistence of his touch had an edge to it, like he was feeling me for the last time.


"Tell me," I pleaded softly. I laced my fingers with his. He slid his other hand behind my neck and pulled me closer. He pressed his lips to my forehead for a long moment and pulled back, releasing my hands.


Chapter 49: Cast-Off, Part 2