by Terry Spear
Marissa Lakeland faces her worst nightmare one dark and misty night when she chases a gorgeous hunk of a guy to prove he’s a vampire. So why does the thought of tall, dark and vampiric appeal to Marissa, when there’s no way a vampire can compel a witch to do his bidding? At least that’s what she’s read in vampire lore. But lore can be mistaken.
Fledgling vampire Dominic Vorchowski knows Marissa’s the only one who can save him. Only why does she have to be a witch? Fate has thrown him together with the bewitching Marissa and if he gains her trust, he’ll have his life back again. Except for that whole eternal thirst for blood thing. And the fangs. Not to mention the aversion to intense sunlight. In any event, he’s set his sights on one girl who’s totally off the menu.
The centuries-old vamp Lynetta wants Dominic to replace the lover she lost, and no teenaged witch is going to take her guy away. Dominic and Marissa must stop the vampiress from winning the battle of the night…but time is running out.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Vampire…In My Dreams:
“Watch well, witch,” the woman called back to me as she squeezed Dominic’s throat. Dressed in a black spandex shirt, matching jeans and a pair of high-heeled, thigh-high boots, she looked like a regular teen.
My heart lodged in my throat while my blood turned to ice, but I wouldn’t run and hide.
“See what I will do to you next!” She turned her attention to Dominic. “Do you think a scrawny thing like her can kill me? Do you? She’s trembling in her sneakers as we speak. Well, as I speak.”
I froze to the concrete sidewalk, unsure what to do next to save Dominic from the vampire. I wanted to pound her into the ground, but the way she held Dominic tightly in her grasp, I knew I couldn’t physically best her. I suspected none of my spells would work against an ancient vampire, and though the woman looked only to be my age, seventeen, she seemed older than time in her actions and speech.
She leaned over and licked Dominic’s cheek, and his expression turned from concern for me to hatred for her.
None of Dominic’s own words had emotionally stirred me to save him like the unbridled actions of the vampire at his throat. Lynetta bared her wickedly sharp pointed canines and hissed. Her long black hair hung wildly to her hips, tangled and teased by the breeze. She was petite like me, but as strong as a male bodybuilder, her grip on Dominic remaining iron tight. Her soulless black eyes, vacant and without a care, really ate away at my heart.
I surveyed the yard for any kind of a weapon I could use against the vampire. My heart surged when I spied a colorful whirligig attached to a wooden stake embedded in my mother’s pampered pansy garden nearby. Without a second’s hesitation, I dashed for it and yanked it out.
Running at the vampire, I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Death to the bloodsucking vampire!” Which gave me some courage. It wasn’t every day I had to beat one vampire off of another, when they didn’t even really exist. Who’d ever thought I’d have to tell Kate she was so right?
All I could think of was aiming the stake at the vampire’s heart—at least that’s what the books said would work on them—except Lynetta used Dominic to shield her. I ground my teeth, dancing around them, taking aim at the vamp anywhere that I could strike, praying I wouldn’t hit Dominic by accident.
With great relief, I thwarted her enough that she was unable to bite him, and I imagined she thought me a pesky, insignificant gnat, just as hard to strike down while she was trying to maintain her grip on Dominic. She snarled in anger, baring her fangs at me. My heart raced, sending the blood coursing through my system while I concentrated on striking the vampire again and again.
But the distressing notion kept running through my mind, I am a failure. I had messed up tons of potions and spells at school, caused an explosion in the lab, and turned a teacher into a baboon. How could someone as inept as me save Dominic from this fiend? Why didn’t he find another witch who had top honors, like Kate, to help him? By choosing me, he’d sealed his fate.
Yet, for now, he had no one else to aid him and I had to squash the sense of hopelessness that ate away at my confidence. I would save him…somehow.
Dominic struggled to get free, and I assumed Lynetta’s grip on him had loosened while I distracted her. Gritting my teeth, I struck the stake at her shoulder as hard as I could, all the while chanting ancient words, “Malachon, revelist, baraths, chalmeon!”
She screamed out in pain, but the stake wasn’t sharp enough to cut her. Now on me, I’d have bruises the size of Texas, but I wondered if a vampire would bruise that easily.
“Witch’s spells won’t work on me, you little…little witch!” she yelled at me.
I couldn’t help smiling the way she called me a witch in such a derogatory way, which meant she was losing her cool and I was winning some of the game. In our dancing back and forth, my attempts to strike the vampire and Dominic’s struggles to get free, I moved us closer to the edge of my front porch. If we could reach my house, I’d invite him in. The vampire couldn’t get to him then, at least for the time being, I didn’t think.
Suddenly, Dominic broke loose, grabbed my arm, and shoved me to the door. “Do it!” he shouted, as if he thought I knew all of the rules about being a vampire. Maybe the books were right.
I screamed back, “Come in, Dominic!”
I fumbled with the key in the lock, then jerked the door open. Dominic wrenched himself free and dove in, carrying me with him.
Both of us fell on the tiled entryway, but Dominic managed to break my fall with heroic effort. Lynetta hissed at the doorway, baring her fangs. The look she gave us was like she was the Medusa herself—minus the writhing snakes shooting out of her head, but able to turn a body to stone anyway.
Dominic jumped to his feet and slammed the door in her face. “Your parents?” he whispered, and helped me to my feet.
His touch was warm and caring and instantly heated my cold, clammy hands. “Away on a trip to Mexico, celebrating their eighteenth wedding anniversary. A witch at seventeen is considered responsible enough to leave alone. Besides, my Aunt Betsy lives two houses down if I have any trouble.”
His dark brows furrowed, and he wiped away some of his long hair dangling at his cheek that had broken loose from the leather strap binding it. “Trouble like me.”
Taking a deep settling breath, I touched the bruises already discoloring his throat in shades of black and blue. “I’m sure no one in my family would have expected me to have this kind of trouble, but for your own safety, you can stay here until Friday. How is your throat? Can I—”
“One of the advantages of being…” His words trailed off for a second, then he cleared his gravelly throat. “We heal at accelerated rates.”
“Oh.” I tried to keep my reaction neutral when it came to discussing his—differences, but I’m sure my eyes widened a little.
He kept his distance, though we only stood an arm’s length away, yet he seemed to want to draw closer. Finally he said, “I want to thank you for your help, Marissa. Only my lifemate would have been able to rescue me.”
Although gladdened he felt I was so useful, I really didn’t feel that way about my capabilities. I’d been lucky, that’s all. “I couldn’t let her hurt you, Dominic.”
“Because we’re connect—”
Silencing him with a shake of my head, I did not want to hear anything more about our fate being written in the stars. I didn’t believe it for one instant. Witches married warlocks and that was that. Any that made the mistake of marrying a human diluted the magical abilities in their gene pool, and their mixed children suffered. Though, my magic wasn’t all that great, and both my parents were magic users—guess it went to show there’s a dud in every bunch. Still, the idea of marrying a vampiric human was scandalous. What kind of children would that spawn? Or would it even be possible? And why was I even thinking about such a thing?
He gently rubbed his wrists where Lynetta had savagely gripped him. “Where can I sleep?”
“
Do you have to sleep with your dirt? Or a coffin?”
At the notion, he grimaced. “A room without rays of sunlight filtering in will do. And no, I don’t sleep with a pile of dirt.” He shook his head. “Old wives’ tales.”
“You can sleep in the guestroom next to mine. It’s all frilly and purple, but the only other bedroom is my parents’ and—”
The phone rang, jangling my already frayed nerves. I grabbed the phone and read the Caller ID. “My Aunt Betsy,” I whispered as if she could hear me. I punched the on button. “Hello?”
“Marissa. I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Aunt Betsy. You know Kate. She led me on a wild goose chase searching for vampires.” I winked at Dominic, and he smiled back at me. He had the most gorgeous smile, but not a tooth too big or wicked at all, making me wonder where he kept his fangs tucked away.
Silence met my ear and I knew at once something was wrong. My aunt had never been a worrywart, in fact I was lucky that none of my family had that dysfunction. “Aunt Betsy?”
“Something killed five humans and drained the blood from them. The police are trying to keep everyone from panicking. They’re saying it’s some sicko pretending to be a vampire.”
Quinn excels at slaying demons. But betrayal is the one demon she never saw coming.
Stripped Away
© 2008 Sydney Somers
Nothing gives Quinn a rush like hunting and vanquishing the very demons that changed her life. But lately something is off. Way off. Nightmares she can’t explain, irrational fears surfacing at the most unexpected moments. And when her twin sister vanishes, Quinn’s world starts to come apart at the seams.
Since becoming an agent for the Shadow Destroyers, Braxton has excelled at playing by the rules. Until, in a moment of weakness, he let his common sense desert him for one night in Quinn’s arms. A night she doesn’t remember. For weeks he’s kept their relationship strictly professional, but seeing Quinn so edgy and lost puts his telepathic abilities—and his restraint—to the test.
As the search for her sister intensifies and everything Quinn thought she knew comes into question, Braxton seems to be the one true thing she can hold onto. Until she discovers he’s been keeping a very big secret of his own.
One that may destroy her trust just when she needs him the most.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Stripped Away:
She edged away from the door and closer to him. “I can see on your face how much you want me.”
He grabbed the doorknob, her proximity stretching his control like a sheet snapping wildly in the breeze before a thunderstorm. If he dropped his head just a bit, he could sample the mouth he’d been fantasizing about since she’d first sauntered through the field office doors.
Her hand closed around his on the door. “Just for a few minutes.”
“We can’t.”
She snaked an arm around his neck. “Yes, we can.” She trailed her mouth along the edge of his jaw. “All you have to do is give in. Like I have.”
“And you’ll regret even going this far in the morning.” It was a chore to even speak at this point. Only his fierce grip on the door kept him from sweeping her straight into his arms.
“I won’t regret a thing because what I’m feeling is real.”
“And was what you were feeling real when you came onto Drew?”
She smiled. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m just pointing out that you don’t care who you get naked with.”
A wounded look filled her eyes before she moved quickly, reversing their positions to back him against the door. “My comment to Drew was nothing more than flirting, and he knew it or else he would have followed me home like the nympho we all know he is.”
She pushed her hands under the edge of his shirt. “What I said to you before, what I’m saying to you now, may be coming out because of that lust demon, but I’m not sorry for it. Not when I’ve wondered what it would be like between us, wanted to have you exactly where I’ve got you now—knowing how bad you want to give in.”
He swallowed hard, unable to fabricate a denial when she had every luscious inch tucked against him.
Quinn reached up and brushed her mouth across his. Sweet softness and the slow silky glide of her tongue exploded across his senses.
Common sense dictated he pry himself out of her arms and get the hell out of there. Although there might be a lot of truth to Quinn’s claim of wanting him as much as he wanted her, he knew she wouldn’t be kissing him senseless if not for the lust demon. But no amount of reasonable argument silenced the one part of him he couldn’t ignore. The part that demanded he take just a minute and appreciate this moment because it might never come back around. He’d be stupid not to take a full taste of her and put his wandering mind to rest about what it felt like to fall into a gut-wrenching kind of kiss with Quinn at the wheel. The kind that led to hours of tangled sheets and slick sweaty bodies.
He groaned and swept inside her mouth, his hands moving from the door to grip her waist. Better than he imagined and worse that now he knew what he would be missing after this one kiss.
One kiss that didn’t end as she fisted her hands in his shirt and pressed every enticing curve into him. When she nudged his impossible-to-hide erection, his muscles locked in sweet anticipation of her doing it again.
That’s how he knew he was in trouble.
Though it killed him, he drew back. “I’m going now.”
“No.”
“Quinn,” he began already knowing his denials were running out of fuel.
“No. Tonight, right this second, that rule book is going in the garbage.” She tugged her shirt over her head.
A better man would have closed his eyes, would have snatched her shirt up and pressed it against her chest. He might not be a rule breaker, but he was far from a saint and couldn’t have stopped his gaze from tracing every smooth plane and inviting curve even if a Scion appeared out of thin air next to them.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door, grappling for the strength to do the right thing.
“Brax.” She lifted his hand and guided it to her breast. “Touch me. Learn me in all the ways I dream about when I’m at home alone.”
She caught his mouth with hers. He let her explore his mouth, and in turn lost himself in the slick stroke of her tongue. The way her body fit so snugly against his. The way she arched against him as he worked her bra off and brushed his thumb down the side of her breast.
One last burst of rational thought tried to squeeze through and kill the moment he selfishly wanted for himself. “You know you won’t remember this in the morning.”
“I might,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Probably not.”
She shook her head. “I want you so badly that nothing is going to let me forget what it feels like to finally have your hands on me.”
Nothing but the infection.
She tipped her face up, her gaze far too perceptive for someone in the peak of a temporary pollution from the lust demon. “If I do forget, I know I can trust you to tell me.”
“Which is why we should stop—” Why he should stop before what was left of his control disintegrated altogether.
She silenced his objection with another kiss that jolted his system. “We’re not stopping. We both know I’m safe from pregnancy from the shots,” she added, squelching his last logical argument for pulling back, “and I’ll remember this. I will, Brax. Please tell me you’re not going to walk away now?”
She didn’t even give him a second to answer before she caged his face in her hands and poured every inch of her into a kiss that knocked his last objection right out of the ballpark.
Then she backed away.
With the siren smile firmly in place, she stripped off her panties and headed for the bathroom. “I feel like a shower.”
Appreciating the sweet curve of her ass as she vanished into the private bathroom, he yanked his shirt
over his head and started after her. She didn’t even look over her shoulder to see if he followed.
Because she already knew what he’d been slower to admit.
He wanted her too damn much to walk away now.
Mafia hit man. Vampire. The criminal underworld just got a whole lot darker.
Blood Vice
© 2009 Keith Melton
The Nightfall Syndicate, Book 1
Business has never been better for hit man Karl Vance. Boston is awash in mafia blood, and Vance has a certain fondness for blood. He’s a master vampire—one of the most powerful of his kind. Having sworn to never again feed on the blood of innocents, Karl preys instead on Boston’s criminal underworld. Which makes him a valuable asset to those who deal in death.
Maria Ricardi intends to use that asset to its full extent in order to gain power within her patriarchal crime family. Vance thinks he’s been hired to keep track of the family’s princess, but she’s got a plan to get her hands dirty and earn the respect she deserves. And she’s not above using their instant attraction to get what she wants.
That driving ambition draws the attention of a rival clan’s newest and most dangerous “consultant.” Alejandro Delgado, Vance’s centuries-old nemesis. Delgado zeroes in on the one chink in Vance’s armor—his fondness for the headstrong Maria.
When she becomes enslaved by Delgado’s unnatural kiss, only one thing is certain. Vance has to decide which he wants more. To settle the score—or rescue her soul.
Warning: Intense, graphic mafia-related violence, profanity, gangster slang, assassinations, fang punctures, explicit vampire sex, betrayal, greed, murder, gangland warfare, pervasive supernatural mayhem, large-scale explosions, and extremely expensive Italian suits.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Blood Vice:
Maria sipped her wine. Chateau Margaux, 1995. The color was almost black, but the taste was smooth and vibrant. She’d just slipped below the froth of suds in the tub, and the water jets pulsed against her skin. A single maroon candle burned on a gold plate near her feet, with rose petals strewn about the rim. Beyond the penthouse windows, Boston reclined in a glittering spread of lights, the ring of lights atop the Prudential Center glowing like a halo over downtown.
