by Tamsin Baker
Romance with a Bite
Contents
Romance with a Bite
Banshee Cry
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
About the Author
Biting Temptation
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Author's Note
Tower Tango
Books by Kim Cleary
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Taken by the Vampires
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty One
Chapter Forty Two
Chapter Forty Three
Chapter Forty Four
Chapter Forty Four
Chapter Forty Five
Chapter Forty Five
Chapter Forty Six
Phoenix Rising
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Her Biker's Bite
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Moonlight Bite
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Vampire Queen
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Epilogue.
Undying Night
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
Wild Orchid
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
The Boobook
Emily Hussey
The Vampire's Mate
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
Chapter 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
Chapter 9
Banshee Cry
Book 1 of The Blood Fae Chronicles
by
USA Today bestselling author
Jen Katemi
© Copyright 2020 Jen Katemi
The alluring cry of the banshee proves too much for a powerful vampire to resist…until seduction turns deadly and these unlikely lovers become the only thing standing between life and the lethal song of death.
Do banshees ever herald their own impending death?
Chapter One
&
nbsp; Aleah
What the hell use is a banshee without a voice?
Well, I do have a voice, sort of, but it's muted and soft. Useless when it comes to sounding a warning. Deadly when the only thing you can do is wail quietly into your pillow while death swoops in downstairs and takes away your father.
I was told by my aunt it took two vamps that night, to slowly suck the lifeblood from my dad. He put up a fight, once he knew what they were. But I didn't give him the warning he needed and when they knocked, he was expecting our neighbors.
He just called out for them to come on in, while I lay in bed upstairs, feeling it coming like a wave of agony. Wailing in a whisper, and not even knowing why until it was over.
Four years old and my first death.
By far, the worst I've ever had. And all because of the vamps.
I stare into the set of icy blue eyes waiting for my response, and the twenty-five-year-old memories of my dad come rushing back in as if it all happened yesterday. The wail rises in my chest, as if called forth simply by the thought of death. No. Not again. Twice in less than twenty-four hours is simply too much to bear.
My fingers twitch toward the stake that sits looped in my belt, but I manage to control the twin urges to scream and stab, and instead take a small step back from the injured vampire standing at my door.
“No.” I shake my head for emphasis. “You may not enter my home.”
“Please.” His gaze flickers and I know he's aware of my weapon. “I was…attacked, and now that the sun is on the rise, I need shelter in order to heal. I need—”
“You're hungry.”
“No, I—”
“You need to feed.”
“I do not.” His voice rises briefly in obvious annoyance, and then he staggers slightly as if even that faint expending of energy is too much. “I happened to be in the Hatton Grove area for work, and yours is the nearest dwelling. I—”
Work? “What sort of work nets you a seriously mangled arm and…” I study the unnatural way he’s cradling himself. “Your shoulder too. Is it—”
“Dislocated, yes. And I think, maybe, a broken rib or two. I’m with the police. I was after a rogue supe reported near here, but…turns out there are more than one. In this case it was a vamp and a shifter, working together. They got the better of me. This time.”
Despite his injury, the words are fierce and a strange reddish glow appears deep behind his eyes. This guy is pissed. For a moment I see beyond the vamp label, and realize the man standing before me is one of the sexiest I’ve ever laid eyes on.
He’s the quintessential tall, dark and handsome, with rakish hair, an angular facial structure and a wide, sensual mouth that calls out to be kissed. I find myself leaning close toward him, and quickly shake my head and blink to try and dispel the allure.
What the hell am I doing, conversing with a vamp? Even one who may be on the right side of the law. Since the Accord thirty or so years ago, I’ve heard of supernatural beings joining mainstream humans in the workforce, but out here on the farm in my little neck of the woods, it’s rare to come across any creature—human or non-human alike. Which is just the way I like it.
I take a deep breath. “Get off my porch!”
Reluctantly, he backs away. He has no choice, now that I’ve compelled him. Vamps can't enter without permission and my porch is technically still under my roof. Though only just, which is why he made it all the way to the kitchen entrance.
“The sun’s up. You're sending me to my death.”
“I'm not.” I would know if death is imminent.
I don't say that out loud, but his gaze sharpens, as if he senses something other than mortal. “You don't care either way, do you?”
“Oh, yes.” Sudden anger burns and I’m sure spots of pink decorate my cheeks. “I care. I care a great deal.”
Once again, his gaze narrows, dropping briefly to where my fist clenches and unclenches beside my stake.
He nods once. "So be it. I’ll try and find a shed. Or something..." He staggers down the porch steps and promptly collapses in a motionless heap at the base.
Fuck it. Fuck it to fucking hell and back.
If he stays there he will die, wound or no wound. Do I stand here and watch and wail in semi-silence while death creeps in and takes him? Do I venture out there and hasten his passing with my stake?
What if it’s just a trick? If he truly is hungry, my blood will call to him far more strongly than any pure-bred human or faerie. I’m a hybrid, a half-breed mix of human and immortal fae, and my veins carry an elixir that holds far greater power than many others. Especially for a hungry vampire.
He doesn’t move. The sun has risen fully and despite the winter season diluting its strength, rays have already reached his crumpled body.
God damn it. “At least move to the tree line.” I call out the instruction as loudly as my defective voice will allow, but he remains slumped and unmoving, as if already dead. "Shit."
I hate vamps. I fucking hate them.
I unsheathe my stake and hold it firmly in my left hand before slamming open the screen door. I stride out onto the porch, watching carefully, but there’s still no movement. Nothing at all, until finally I hunch down beside him and dare to poke at his ribs with my stake.
He lets out a faint groan and one blue eye pops open to stare up at me in weary accusation. “Thought you wanted me dead.”
His voice is definitely growing feebler. If he were genuinely trying to trick me, he’d already be up and at my throat. Vamps move fast. Almost as fast as a full-blooded fae. Some of the tension holding my body tight releases just a touch at his continued stillness.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I kind of do.”
His lids close over the accusatory glare and his wide lips thin slightly. “Then leave me. Just go. It’s…probably…for the best, anyway.” His voice is getting weaker by the minute.
I grit my teeth. “That’s a stupid thing to say. A martyr-like vampire is ridiculous.”
“An oxymoron?”
Despite my wariness, my lips twitch up for a moment. “Maybe. And besides, I can’t leave you here.”
“Why not?”
Because I don’t want to call in your death. I don’t want to call in anyone else’s death today. “It’d be the wrong thing to do.”
“And yet, you carry a stake. Now that’s kind of oxymoron-ish, don’t you think?” Humor laces his response, despite the obvious struggle to speak.
The temptation to grin back at him grows stronger. Only for a second or two, but the lapse shocks me. “Yeah. Funny that. I will use it, if I need to. But only in self-defense.”
“Fair enough.”
Oh my God. A comedic vampire. I don’t want to discover wit or humor in this creature. Why am I responding to him in this way? I should let him die. It would merely be one less vamp for others to worry about in the future.
I feel death when it comes calling. I feel all the aching sadness of what is about to be, and all the angst and grief of what comes after. Just because my voice is husky and weak, doesn’t mean the emotions that well up inside are any less potent. It’s the opposite, actually. I can’t let any of it out in vocal expression, so everything stays coiled up inside me until there’s no room left for anything but the overarching black miasma of death. In those moments I grow truly afraid that I won’t be able to contain it and I’ll end up exploding in a splatter of flesh all over the place.
Death, when it comes, is huge and all-encompassing. Sometimes it passes quickly, like it did last night, striking hard and fast and then dispersing as if it never existed at all. At other times, it takes days for that feeling to dissipate. Days for me to start remembering the joy of life, and to start reaching out once again to the light, instead of losing myself in the endless, horrific dark. Either way, whether hard and fast, or slow and relentless, I won’t bring on more death myself. Not even for my worst enemy. Not unless it’s a choice between me or them, and this vamp, whoever he is, is not
here right now to kill me.
My sigh is long and heartfelt. I cannot believe I’m about to do this. “Just… don’t eat me, if I get you inside.”
A faint snort of laughter shifts his frame. “I don’t eat people. I drink. And as to that…I can’t promise I won’t. I’ll try. And I definitely won’t drink you dry. But…depends how long it takes to recover…”
He won’t drink me dry? The honesty that shines through his warped humor is strangely comforting. “Fine. Just…help me help you. It’s not like you’re as light as a feather, you know.” I’ve managed to sit him up, but I can’t do anything else without his assistance. I have more strength than a human, but it’s not boundless.
It feels…odd, to slide my arm around his muscled frame. For some reason I thought he’d be cold to the touch, and he’s not. Though he’s not warm either. He’s more… room temperature, I suppose.
I shiver at the sensation of being so close to an undead creature. Vamps were the monsters that haunted my childhood. The horror that swept in and took away my family’s happiness.
I expect to feel repugnance this close up, but it’s nothing like that. Instead, my heart races and strange butterflies beat wildly in my belly as he lifts his good arm to rest across my shoulders and the curve of my body melds effortlessly into his, as if we were made for each other.
His scent rises, tempting my nostrils with a heady trace I can’t quite place. Not quite musky, not quite spice. Perhaps something in between? Quite unexpected and very pleasant, indeed. A wave of need sweeps over me so suddenly I stagger.
His grunt brings me back to the task at hand. “Hurts.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, it’s bound to, isn’t it, with those injuries.” I don’t mean to sound quite so short, but my visceral response to his proximity annoys me.
We fumble our way to a standing position and he leans heavily into me for a moment, swaying back and forth before eventually regaining his balance.
“How long before you heal?”
“If I can get out of the sun, a few hours. I think. It’s not my first broken bone, but I’ve never had an arm mangled quite as badly as this. Lucky it’s still there at all.”
He waves the bitten arm and then sways again, and I support him more firmly around the waist as we lurch back up the stairs. Thank goodness for my banshee blood. It provides more strength than if I were merely human. Not as much as a full fae, but some, at least.
“You said there were two?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen it happen before, though not often. Two rogues, working together. It’s a concern.”
“Because…?”
“Because rogues are generally insane and irrational. They don’t work with others—they don’t have reason enough for that. And they particularly don’t collaborate across species. Going rogue seems to exacerbate the underlying discord. Shifters hate vamps, and vice versa. That, in itself, is a huge red flag. Something’s very wrong, and at the present time, whatever it is seems to be centered in this region.”
